Monday, March 14

8:45 pm
Living Room

Waiting for my wife. Again.

She's putting the finishing touches on her hair.  Don't know why she's so worked up about going out to this event, of all things.  Normally she hates doing stuff like this, especially during the week when she has to go to work in the morning.

Hell, I don't even wanna go.  But I have to.  Gotta go kiss ass at this party, schmooze with all the corrupt bastards who tell me to my face how wonderful I am then trash me behind my back.  If we wanna have any chance of ever being in the Hall I have to put on my Happy Face and play nice.

Ugly fucking business I'm in.

I'm sure somebody will snark about me not being at the actual ceremony.  Some asshole will accuse me of pouting or throwing a tantrum or sour grapes or whatever, just because we didn't get in this year.  That's not the case at all.  I would have liked to be there to see Alice finally get his moment, to see Waits get his due.  But the fact is I wasn't invited.

Just another little slap in the face from the bastards.

But everybody who's anybody goes to the after-party.  And I do want to shake Alice's hand and congratulate him.  He shoulda been in the Hall long ago; woulda been if this organization was anything but a commercial enterprise rather than a true shrine to the history of music.  He and I have talked about it many times.  So have Bruce and I.  It's a double-edged sword; if you're not in the Hall you're shut out, somehow seen as not worthy.  If you're in you're seen as a suck-ass who greased all the right palms.

The only people who really get to enjoy their place in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame are dead.  Or they've just gone home.  Right, Elvis?

What the fuck ever.  I'm gonna show up with a gorgeous leather-wearing redhead on my arm and have a glass or three of wine and shake some hands and grin and bear it.  Maybe make Cate smile a little bit, make her a little starry-eyed when I introduce her to some real Rock-and-Rollers.

At least I won't have to keep a close eye on her -- Slash is in Asia.  No chance of him stealing her away from me tonight, ha ha.

She'll help get me through this.  Maybe I can convince her to sneak off into a coat room or a dark corner or the john with me and have a little Rock-and-Roll Quickie, heh heh.  She ain't the only one who gets turned on by leather pants.  Lord Have Mercy.

I may not be Hall of Fame material, but I still know how to Rock and Roll, Baby.