Friday, December 10

8:45 am
Melbourne

Sitting on the balcony of my suite, having coffee, taking a few minutes of peace and quiet before we start the crazy weekend.  2 shows here this weekend, then Brisbane and 3 nights in Sydney.  Plus Oprah and some other shit in between.  Next week's gonna be rough.  Better enjoy some peace while I can.

But then I'm back home for Christmas.  Counting the days.

It's been a good trip so far but now we're 2 weeks in and everybody's starting to get a little lonely.  Especially since back home all the holiday cheer is in full swing.  Of course, they're also all freezing their butts off as we wander around in shorts and flip-flops, ha ha.  That part doesn't suck.  But not being able to share it with our families sucks big time.

Found out last night before bed that the RRHOF inductees will be announced at 10:30 am EST on the 15th.  That means 2:30 in the afternoon the next day here.  I think.  Shit.  These time zones have me all fucked up.  So Thursday afternoon?  WTF-ever.

We'll get the courtesy call before it's officially announced one way or the other, anyway.  Hope it's a good call, but you never can tell with this political shit.  I just hope the Hall has some common sense this year.  Alice should have been in the HOF long ago; I think he's a shoe-in for this year.  Waits should be there too, but I'm not confident about him.  The rest of it's a crapshoot.

I'd be lying out my ass if I didn't admit I'll be disappointed if we don't get in.  Some days I think we've got it, others I think there's no way in Hell.  All those poison-pen reviews from the so-called critics over the decades keep flying back through my mind.  Keep trying to tell myself it doesn't matter; we're still here, still making music, still having fun, still at the top of our game and the top of the heap.

But it matters.  It's the Hall of Fame.  Stones, Beatles, Dylan, Elvis, Bruce.  I want to be in their company for eternity.  I want my grandkids' kids to see my name up on that wall and see my tight leather pants and ugly-ass 80's coats in a glass case, ha ha.  Man, what they would think, all those years in the future.... Who knows?

It's out of my hands, I can't control it.

Fuck, I hate that feeling.

Anyway.... listening to Duffy's new record.  It's more modern and poppy than her last, but I like it.  That girl has crazy talent, that voice and that presence.  For a tiny little thing she sure sings big.  Wasn't crazy about the first single but I know in Britain the pop-dance thing is what gets the airplay, so I understand why she picked it.  Glad to see she's released the title track as the second single.  It plays to her strength, that velvety blue-eyed soul she does so well.  As for the other tracks on the record, some good stuff -- I played Breath Away a couple times last night.  Made me think of Cate.  She likes Duffy too, plays Rockferry a lot when she wants to chill out.

Hmm.  Maybe I could get Duffy to play a private show for Cate for a Christmas present?  But when?  Fuck.  Guess that won't work, no time.  Still have NO damned idea what to get my wife for Christmas.  As far as that goes, I still owe her an anniversary present.  And a honeymoon.  Shit, I'm so far in the gift-giving hole I'll never dig myself out.  Good thing she doesn't care about presents or material things.  She'd have left my ass a LONG time ago, ha ha.

Maybe Tiffany???  Have to check out the website.  Few women can resist that little blue box with the white ribbon.

I really need to do something for our anniversary.  It's coming up fast, and we'll be on the road.  Whenever I bring up about wanting to finally schedule our honeymoon or celebrate one of our other milestones she just gives me that gentle little smile that makes my knees weak and tells me every day of our lives together is a celebration.  Jesus, that woman knows how to turn me into jello.  Thank God she's secure and understanding and gets how crazy our lives are.  We have so little time together--we're so Goddamn busy and I need to spend time with my kids.  But sooner or later we need time for us, just for us.  Even if it's only a weekend.

A weekend ain't long enough for a honeymoon, but at least it's something.  Maybe I can pull that off -- a weekend getaway, just the two of us.  After we've done the family thing and the kids thing, before we have to hit the road again.

That might work.

But Tiffany is always a good Plan B.

12:30 pm
In the car

My wife is a TEASE.

She sent me a "hint" about what she got me for Christmas.  It's a text photo, and all I can see is the partial body of what looks like a Tak Dreadnought, in front of a very sexy bare thigh and hip.  And the hip has a faded Slippery tat.  I know that tat VERY well.

WTF?  My wife naked with a guitar?  For Christmas?  Not that I'm complaining, mind you.... but WTF?

All KINDS of thoughts running through my head.  And my pants.  Goddammit.  And I gotta go to work now and do Press.

Like I'm gonna be able to focus on a DAMNED thing now.