Sunday, March 6

1:50 pm
My Office

My head is going to fucking explode.

Swear to God I'm gonna throw my phone out the fucking window into the fucking rain.  I've had the Goddamned thing glued to my ear since I got up this morning.  Even when I was on the treadmill I had it on speaker.

Just got off my 5th call with Obie.  Still don't know what the fuck is wrong with the fucking soundboards.  He and the crew pulled them off the trucks and spent the whole night having the best audio techs in the City running diagnostics on them.  And what do they find?  NOTHING.  Best guess is there's some kind of short.  Ya THINK?  The entire fucking sound goes when we're out on the circle and the best you can tell me is that it's a SHORT?  Motherfuckers.

We're better than that.  This band does NOT have "technical difficulties."  I'm Bon-FUCKING-Jovi.  There is no fucking excuse for this shit.  When we lost sound at Giants last summer, I could deal with it.  New stadium, new stage setup, first rock show, still learning the ropes with the sound.  I get it.  But with our arena setup we've been using for a damned year, twice in one week, first in Boston and now at the Garden?  What is this, fucking High School Musical shit, with some AV-Club geek running the mics?

I know, I know--it wasn't the crew, it's the equipment.  The sound guys were just as surprised as I was, and they all feel bad.  Rew did his best to back them up and try to take the blame, and I certainly took a few heads off last night.  But I don't fucking care--they have to pull this show off EVERY Goddamned night.  Perfectly.  I know they're human, a one-time snafu I can deal with.  Twice?  Unacceptable.

And I don't pay top fucking dollar for the best sound equipment in the universe to have it blow up in the middle of a Goddamned show.  TWICE.  Better be a fucking warranty on this stuff.  I told Obie to whip out the big black credit card and get me another brand-fucking-new setup for Chicago and make the fucking company take this piece of shit back.  He tried to argue with me that it would take too long to program a new board, we can't get it done before Tuesday.

Bullshit.  There's 24 hours in a day and 2 days to go.  He can fucking make it happen.  He just doesn't want to.

Of course he's just gonna do what the fuck ever he wants.  He'll probably pay some 20-year-old Nerd to come in and replace some red fucking wire or something and hope it works.  He better fucking hope it does or I'll have his nuts in a vise.

The problem with Obie is he's known me too damned long to be afraid of me.  He actually laughed at me before he hung up this last time.

I get no fucking respect.

2:20 pm
Bedroom

Now my wife's busting my balls.

I'm trying to fucking pack for Chicago while Obie's yapping away on speakerphone.  Cate came in with a pile of clean clothes and set them on the bed next to my suitcase.  I kinda pawed through them looking for my blue shirt, and I guess I messed up her neat little stack because she gave me that look she saves for when I do something stupid.  Of course I gave her the evil eye right back and just for good measure I sent that pile of clothes flying across the bed.

She didn't like that one bit.  She crossed her arms over her chest and gave me a her cop-scowl and interrupted Obie.  Told him I was busy and I'd call him back when I wasn't being a prick.  Of course Obie laughed and said he'd never hear from me again.  Then he hung up and left me to deal with Cate.  Fucker.

So Cate stood and stared at me and I stared right back at her -- two can play that game.  Unfortunately she's better at it because she's become immune to my so-called StinkEye.  Goddammit.  Finally she asked me in that dangerously calm, controlled voice of hers if I was ready to act like a grown-up instead of a petulant child.  Well I wasn't, but I said "Yeah."  When I heard my voice I cringed a little, because I DID sound like a pouting brat.  But I sure as fuck wasn't going to admit it to Cate.

Then she told me to stop being a whiny asshole and re-fold the fucking laundry and put it away myself because she's not my damned maid.  And to come find her when I'm ready to be civil and stop bitching about something that's over and done with and can't be changed.

Bitch.

I hate it when she's right.


8:50 pm
Living Room

Feel considerably better now.  Apparently I'm no longer being a giant Flaming Asshole either, per my wife.

That woman knows me too well.

Cate could see I was just gonna stomp and pout my way around the house all day today, so she forced me to do something she knew would make me stop.

She went and got my kids.

That's a dirty rotten trick she played.  She knows I can't stay pissy around my Boys.  Even when the Chuckleheads are driving me bat-shit crazy I just fucking melt around them.  I'm a complete pushover.  Nobody can make me laugh like they do.

After my little passive-aggressive laundry stunt I sat and brooded for awhile, then I realized I better pick up the mess I made or Cate would kick my ass.

Then I called Obie back and he laughed at me for being afraid of my wife.  He's one to fucking talk.  He's afraid of her too.  Anyway, I was strangely humbled and calmed down so I didn't even yell at him when he told me to trust him, he'll get the soundboard mess straightened out.

I do trust him.  More than just about anybody.  I just need to kick him around every now and then, which Obie understands and tolerates.  He just lets my temper tantrums go in one ear and out the other, then he tells me to go blow myself and fixes whatever the problem is.

That's why he's my oldest and bestest friend, ha ha.

Anyway, after I got off the phone with Obie I slunk out into the living room and found Cate and mumbled an apology for being a Dickwad to her.  She gave me a kiss and told me to get my coat, we were going out.  Of course I whined that I didn't want to, and she told me to shut the fuck up and do as I was told.

So I did.

We climbed in a cab and went to Dorothea's and picked up Jakey and Romeo, who were bouncing off the walls.  Dorothea looked thoroughly relieved to get them out of her hair for a few hours.  Apparently they've been wound up since the show last night, where they were little Hellions running around backstage.  D looked like she was ready to kiss Cate for coming to take the Chuckleheads off her hands for a few hours.

I swear, those two Boys can be at the same time the most exasperating and most adorable creatures on the planet.  They had me laughing within 5 minutes of arriving at Dorothea's.  And wanting to strangle them within 10 minutes of arriving at the cinema.

Cate thought I needed something to take my mind off last night's colossal fuck-up, something that would make me laugh.  So we took the boys to see that new animated movie, Rango.  The one where Johnny Depp voices the lizard.  That was a great idea my wife had -- the movie was freakin' HILARIOUS.  Romeo laughed so hard I thought for sure he was gonna pee his pants.

Apparently his imaginary pet ferret Russell liked it a lot too.  Russell spent the entire movie sitting on my shoulder.  According to Romey he likes the way my hair smells.

I'm a little worried about that kid.

Anyway, Cate said for a few hours I wasn't allowed to be anything but Daddy, so that's what I did.  We loaded up on popcorn and candy and sodas at the concession stand and laughed our butts off in the movie theater.  I sat in between the Boys and Cate sat beside Romeo.

The best part of  the whole movie was when I looked over at Cate and saw her holding Romeo on her lap, giggling and smiling.  Then she looked over at me and mouthed "I love you."

Suddenly shit like shorted-out soundboards and crappy vocals didn't mean a damned thing.  I have what's really important.  My family.

The rest of it is all bullshit.