3:05 am
Suite
I'm in love with an Irish Woman.
Just one.
She's all I need.
And right now she's sitting with me out here on the terrace, under this big ol' yellow moon in the crisp Irish night air. Curled up against me under this sexy-soft mink blanket, sipping champagne and stealing puffs off my cigar and whispering sweet nothings in my ear.
And I ain't gonna sit here and write in my book any more about it.
I got better things to do.
Heh heh.
1:05 pm
Suite
Back from my swim. Felt good. Haven't done swimming for exercise in ages--it ain't easy to find a hotel with a pool big enough for laps. But this one worked.
Matty convinced the hotel to close the indoor down for an hour so I could work out without being bothered or ogled. Dean gave me a few aquatherapy exercises for my knee, then I just did laps.
I'll probably have to do a lot more swimming and yoga and a lot less running in the future. My old joints have had it. I'm pretty sure I'm gonna get scolded by the Doc after my surgery tomorrow.
Oh well.
Gotta get ready to go to the Fan Club Q&A thing. I always dread going to those deals, but once I get in the room I usually enjoy myself. I just get tired of being "on", and of hearing the same questions over and over again and the same song requests.
I don't mind people asking me to play something -- it's nice that people have songs they're so attached to that they ask for them. But inevitably they ask me for something we can't do. Some obscure deep cut or B-Side from somewhere that I don't even remember ever doing live, or something we haven't done since the 90s.
We just aren't set up to do everything--there's lights and sound and tuned guitars and all kinds of other shit to think about every time we do a new song. That's why I have to list out my possible audibles on the setlist. It drives the crew bonkers when I go off-list 'cause they have to scramble to get shit together.
So inevitably I have to say "no" to somebody's request. And then when I can't do it it makes me look like an asshole.
Oh well. You can't please everybody.
Maybe I can let Russell go in my place. Whaddya say, Russ? You up to being the Rock Star for awhile? Wanna get your picture taken a hundred times and get groped by a bunch of giggly women? And possibly a few guys? Ha ha.
Not your thing, huh? What are you gonna do, then? Hang out with Cate at the pool? Catch some rays?
Yeah, thought so.
Even the weasel gets to vacation while I gotta work.
7:20 pm
Dressing Room
"Sometimes you're on top... Sometimes she is."
I fucking give up.
But I'm keeping this one.
11:55 pm
Dressing Room
Completely drained, but I feel damned good.
Can't go out and celebrate though, can't do anything but drink water and go to bed. No food before surgery. Or wine.
Goddammit.
When I got back here and got showered up I went out to find my Wife. She was over in a corner in the hospitality room, talking to a group of people. Her back was to me so I snuck up behind her and slipped my arms around her waist.
That's when I realized she was holding a baby. The cutest little blond-haired baby girl you'll ever want to see. She was about 9 months old, curled up on Cate's chest, her chubby little cheek resting against Cate's shoulder, her little baby breath ruffling Cate's hair. She was fast asleep, the little angel. Don't know whose relative she was, but she was just beautiful.
Cate turned around and gave me a smile that almost brought tears to my eyes. She looked so content, so happy with that slumbering baby in her arms. There was a light in her eyes.
I just smiled back and kissed her.
Wednesday, June 29
3:15 am
Bed
Can't fucking sleep.
Cate's asleep. And snoring a little.
Need to sleep, but can't.
Tried to lay here in the dark and force myself to fall asleep. But that just made me more awake.
Russell's keeping me awake.
Fucking imaginary ferret. I bring him on the road with me, help him pick up chick-weasels, and this is the thanks I get. Nocturnal bother.
He's staying home for the rest of the tour. Can't handle him anymore.
Goddammit.
Can't even go to the gym because of my knee. Can't do yoga or anything.
Guess I could lift a little, but not in the mood to do that.
Shit.
Wonder if Cate would mind if I woke her up for a quick blowjob. Or a slow one. Heh heh. That always relaxes me.
Maybe then I could sleep.
If she didn't rip my balls off for waking her up, that is.
Fuck.
Guess I'll read a book.
9:45 am
Cafe
Beautiful morning here in Dublin. Even if it is raining and I've only had about 5 hours of sleep.
But the coffee's great and the scones are delicious. And I'm enjoying the quiet companionship of the most beautiful red-haired, blue-eyed Irish Lass you'd ever want to meet.
She wasn't quiet about an hour ago, heh heh. Nothing quite like waking up to really fantastic sex in one of my favorite places on Earth.
Cate's smiling at me. She knows I'm writing about her. And that I'm happy.
It's gonna be wonderful to stay here a few extra days, even if I am healing. I wish Cate could stay the whole time, but she has to go back to work next week. But we'll have a few days of vacation together.
I'll take what I can get.
Ha ha -- she just took a photo to text to Romey. Russell having breakfast in the flower box in the cafe window. Apparently he's stopping to smell the roses.
I love that my Wife plays with my Kid.
How wonderful it would be if Baby B is conceived here in Dublin. A perfect souvenir of our first visit here together. The first of many, I'm hoping.
Guess a Baby's a better memento from Ireland than from a Vegas strip club, ha ha.
7:20 pm
Dressing Room.
Fortune Cookie time.
This time I'm SURE nobody's tampered with my cookie. I pulled three random people from the crew, watched them pick cookies from Dawn's cookie box, then made them open the fortunes while I watched. None of the cookies left my sight, not even for a second. As Cate would say, the Chain of Custody was pristine.
All three were normal goofy Chinese fortunes, the ones that are kinda boring but a little bit profound.
I didn't let Dawn put away the cookie box after Simon, Josh, and Linda picked their cookies. She and Cate and Matty all watched me pick out a cookie and shove it in my jeans pocket. It's been there 'til right now. Nobody's touched it. It's a little crunched, but it hasn't left my body.
And it says....
"The word of the day is "legs." Spread the word."
MOTHERFUCKER!!!!
HOW the FUCK is this HAPPENING????
Bed
Can't fucking sleep.
Cate's asleep. And snoring a little.
Need to sleep, but can't.
Tried to lay here in the dark and force myself to fall asleep. But that just made me more awake.
Russell's keeping me awake.
Fucking imaginary ferret. I bring him on the road with me, help him pick up chick-weasels, and this is the thanks I get. Nocturnal bother.
He's staying home for the rest of the tour. Can't handle him anymore.
Goddammit.
Can't even go to the gym because of my knee. Can't do yoga or anything.
Guess I could lift a little, but not in the mood to do that.
Shit.
Wonder if Cate would mind if I woke her up for a quick blowjob. Or a slow one. Heh heh. That always relaxes me.
Maybe then I could sleep.
If she didn't rip my balls off for waking her up, that is.
Fuck.
Guess I'll read a book.
9:45 am
Cafe
Beautiful morning here in Dublin. Even if it is raining and I've only had about 5 hours of sleep.
But the coffee's great and the scones are delicious. And I'm enjoying the quiet companionship of the most beautiful red-haired, blue-eyed Irish Lass you'd ever want to meet.
She wasn't quiet about an hour ago, heh heh. Nothing quite like waking up to really fantastic sex in one of my favorite places on Earth.
Cate's smiling at me. She knows I'm writing about her. And that I'm happy.
It's gonna be wonderful to stay here a few extra days, even if I am healing. I wish Cate could stay the whole time, but she has to go back to work next week. But we'll have a few days of vacation together.
I'll take what I can get.
Ha ha -- she just took a photo to text to Romey. Russell having breakfast in the flower box in the cafe window. Apparently he's stopping to smell the roses.
I love that my Wife plays with my Kid.
How wonderful it would be if Baby B is conceived here in Dublin. A perfect souvenir of our first visit here together. The first of many, I'm hoping.
Guess a Baby's a better memento from Ireland than from a Vegas strip club, ha ha.
7:20 pm
Dressing Room.
Fortune Cookie time.
This time I'm SURE nobody's tampered with my cookie. I pulled three random people from the crew, watched them pick cookies from Dawn's cookie box, then made them open the fortunes while I watched. None of the cookies left my sight, not even for a second. As Cate would say, the Chain of Custody was pristine.
All three were normal goofy Chinese fortunes, the ones that are kinda boring but a little bit profound.
I didn't let Dawn put away the cookie box after Simon, Josh, and Linda picked their cookies. She and Cate and Matty all watched me pick out a cookie and shove it in my jeans pocket. It's been there 'til right now. Nobody's touched it. It's a little crunched, but it hasn't left my body.
And it says....
"The word of the day is "legs." Spread the word."
MOTHERFUCKER!!!!
HOW the FUCK is this HAPPENING????
Tuesday, June 28
1:15 am
Back Corner of Bar
Dear Diary:
I just played a big concert in the rain for thousands of people who screamed and yelled and clapped and cheered while I sang to them. They all think I'm handsome and funny even though I'm not really funny at all and I dance like a white boy with a stick up my ass, especially with this bionic leg.
It was the Best Day Ever.
But I'm counting my lucky stars. I realize I'm one Lucky Fuck. I live a charmed life.
I have a gorgeous redheaded Shiksa Goddess wife with a great rack who can kill me with her pinky finger. For some reason she chooses not to. She loves me in spite of my temper tantrums, my brittle joints, and my smaller-than-average penis. And the gray hairs on my ass. I don't know what she sees in a loudmouth egomaniac like me, honestly I don't.
I would think my Hot Babe Wife would be more attracted to strong, sexy, musical geniuses with curly sunshine locks and sparkling eyes that are blue as the sky. The kind of guy who makes accordions and just about everything else on the face of the Earth look unbearably sexy. The kind of guy who knows how to treat a woman, how to put her on a pedestal and make her the center of the Universe. The kind of guy who is hung like a Champion Clydesdale Stallion.
But for some reason she likes scrawny Italians with thinning hair and big noses.
I'm also damned lucky that I have the best fucking keyboard player and musical genius of the world in my band. Honestly, I'd be just another Justin Beiber or Backstreet Boy if it weren't for David Bryan. He's amazingly talented, incredibly generous, and so handsome I'm surprised he doesn't have to swat modeling contract offers away like flies. David Bryan is so good-looking even I would date him, if I swung that way.
And from what I hear he can more than satisfy the ladies. A couple at a time. All night, every night. Heh heh.
Man, I wish I was as cool and handsome and funny and smart and talented as David Bryan. But the Good Lord didn't make me like that; after David Bryan they broke the mold. The world can only have one perfect specimen, after all.
David Bryan is my Hero.
He's ever so dreamy.
XOXO
Johnny B.
12:50 pm
Suite
Fucking Lemma.
I gotta stop leaving this thing laying around.
Back Corner of Bar
Dear Diary:
I just played a big concert in the rain for thousands of people who screamed and yelled and clapped and cheered while I sang to them. They all think I'm handsome and funny even though I'm not really funny at all and I dance like a white boy with a stick up my ass, especially with this bionic leg.
It was the Best Day Ever.
But I'm counting my lucky stars. I realize I'm one Lucky Fuck. I live a charmed life.
I have a gorgeous redheaded Shiksa Goddess wife with a great rack who can kill me with her pinky finger. For some reason she chooses not to. She loves me in spite of my temper tantrums, my brittle joints, and my smaller-than-average penis. And the gray hairs on my ass. I don't know what she sees in a loudmouth egomaniac like me, honestly I don't.
I would think my Hot Babe Wife would be more attracted to strong, sexy, musical geniuses with curly sunshine locks and sparkling eyes that are blue as the sky. The kind of guy who makes accordions and just about everything else on the face of the Earth look unbearably sexy. The kind of guy who knows how to treat a woman, how to put her on a pedestal and make her the center of the Universe. The kind of guy who is hung like a Champion Clydesdale Stallion.
But for some reason she likes scrawny Italians with thinning hair and big noses.
I'm also damned lucky that I have the best fucking keyboard player and musical genius of the world in my band. Honestly, I'd be just another Justin Beiber or Backstreet Boy if it weren't for David Bryan. He's amazingly talented, incredibly generous, and so handsome I'm surprised he doesn't have to swat modeling contract offers away like flies. David Bryan is so good-looking even I would date him, if I swung that way.
And from what I hear he can more than satisfy the ladies. A couple at a time. All night, every night. Heh heh.
Man, I wish I was as cool and handsome and funny and smart and talented as David Bryan. But the Good Lord didn't make me like that; after David Bryan they broke the mold. The world can only have one perfect specimen, after all.
David Bryan is my Hero.
He's ever so dreamy.
XOXO
Johnny B.
12:50 pm
Suite
Fucking Lemma.
I gotta stop leaving this thing laying around.
Monday, June 27
1:45 pm
Bed
I am so fucking tired.
It's fucking raining AGAIN.
I just want to stay here in bed all day. Sleep straight through until Wednesday. Then they can wheel me on a gurney to the plane and I can sleep on the flight to Dublin.
I feel like I was run over by a lorry. Twice.
Sucks to have to get up to go to work.
6:10 pm
Dressing Room
Alright, I figured out the cookie thing.
Davey's fucking with me. Saw him lurking around my door before the Hard Rock show, before we went out to get in our little golf carts to go to the stage.
He switches out the cookies. I'm sure of it. I go into the john to take a dump or have to talk to some press idiot or something and he sneaks in and nabs the one Dawn sets out for me, then leaves a dirty one in his place.
HA! Busted, Bryan.
And guess what? Tonight I'm gonna foil your little Evil Plan, you Snidely Whiplash Motherfucker. I'm gonna have Cate get my cookie from Dawn's cookie box. And have her get one for herself. Not gonna eat the one Dawn sets out.
Yeah, Buddy. I'm smarter than the Average Bear.
7:40 pm
Dressing Room
SONOFABITCH.
I watched Cate pull my cookie out of Dawn's Box. (That sounds really dirty, ha ha). She picked one for me and one for her. I opened it right on the spot, no chance for Lemma to do a Switcheroo.
Hers: "Good Luck is the result of Good Planning."
Mine: "You will find a place to hide your Sausage."
What the FUCK?
Bed
I am so fucking tired.
It's fucking raining AGAIN.
I just want to stay here in bed all day. Sleep straight through until Wednesday. Then they can wheel me on a gurney to the plane and I can sleep on the flight to Dublin.
I feel like I was run over by a lorry. Twice.
Sucks to have to get up to go to work.
6:10 pm
Dressing Room
Alright, I figured out the cookie thing.
Davey's fucking with me. Saw him lurking around my door before the Hard Rock show, before we went out to get in our little golf carts to go to the stage.
He switches out the cookies. I'm sure of it. I go into the john to take a dump or have to talk to some press idiot or something and he sneaks in and nabs the one Dawn sets out for me, then leaves a dirty one in his place.
HA! Busted, Bryan.
And guess what? Tonight I'm gonna foil your little Evil Plan, you Snidely Whiplash Motherfucker. I'm gonna have Cate get my cookie from Dawn's cookie box. And have her get one for herself. Not gonna eat the one Dawn sets out.
Yeah, Buddy. I'm smarter than the Average Bear.
7:40 pm
Dressing Room
SONOFABITCH.
I watched Cate pull my cookie out of Dawn's Box. (That sounds really dirty, ha ha). She picked one for me and one for her. I opened it right on the spot, no chance for Lemma to do a Switcheroo.
Hers: "Good Luck is the result of Good Planning."
Mine: "You will find a place to hide your Sausage."
What the FUCK?
Sunday, June 26
5:25 am
Terrace
I.
Am.
A.
Golden.
God.
Okay, maybe not. At least not according to my Wife.
But I sure as fuck rocked the SHIT out of Hyde Park tonight. Or last night, whatever. All of us did. This band kicked that crowd's ass. With a one-legged drum major for a singer, no less. Ha ha.
American Fucking Rock and Roll, Baby.
Cate and I just got back from the afterparty. It's getting light outside. Living the full-on Rock Star life tonight. Party 'til the sun comes up.
I'm buzzed and wide awake. I was good, Cate wouldn't let me drink much with my meds, but we had to celebrate. Nothing better than an adrenaline high, 6 hours after you come offstage.
Even Cate was in awe of our show tonight. She's seen us play a million times -- the good, the bad, and the downright ugly. She says this was damn close to the best we've ever been. "Electric," she said. Feels good.
I got a real kick out of watching my Wife today. All the shows and bullshit awards ceremonies and stuff she's been to with me, she still gets so starstruck. She was completely captivated by Ray Davies today, and I thought she was gonna swoon when she met Rod Stewart. Gonna be fun to go watch his show with her later tonight.
Of course, Rod the Bod is no Slash, but still. He's quite the Scottish Gentleman. For a dirty old man, ha ha. But he had my Wife giggling and blushing like a silly schoolgirl. He's still got it, after all this time.
Hmm. Naughty Schoolgirl Cate. I like that idea. Heh heh.
Maybe I should sing a little Rod to Cate when she comes out of the bathroom. Do a little dirty dancing with her out here on the terrace. Maybe a little Hot Legs.
Or Do Ya Think I'm Sexy? Ha ha. Betcha I can guess her answer to that question.
I know I'm gonna crash pretty soon, but I'm not ready yet. Wanna enjoy this a little longer, wanna share it with my Baby, just us. Now that we're done with the public party it's time for the private one.
I got a little slip of paper in my pocket that the Missus needs to check out. And let me demonstrate. I made sure to keep this one, have been carrying it around since the show's over, ready to whip it out when I could steal Cate for a moment alone. Which didn't happen 'til now.
"A cunning linguist is popular in any language," it says. Heh heh. That's really fucking dirty. I'm liking these crazy-ass fortune cookies a little more every day.
And I'm multilingual, Baby. Heh heh heh.
Terrace
I.
Am.
A.
Golden.
God.
Okay, maybe not. At least not according to my Wife.
But I sure as fuck rocked the SHIT out of Hyde Park tonight. Or last night, whatever. All of us did. This band kicked that crowd's ass. With a one-legged drum major for a singer, no less. Ha ha.
American Fucking Rock and Roll, Baby.
Cate and I just got back from the afterparty. It's getting light outside. Living the full-on Rock Star life tonight. Party 'til the sun comes up.
I'm buzzed and wide awake. I was good, Cate wouldn't let me drink much with my meds, but we had to celebrate. Nothing better than an adrenaline high, 6 hours after you come offstage.
Even Cate was in awe of our show tonight. She's seen us play a million times -- the good, the bad, and the downright ugly. She says this was damn close to the best we've ever been. "Electric," she said. Feels good.
I got a real kick out of watching my Wife today. All the shows and bullshit awards ceremonies and stuff she's been to with me, she still gets so starstruck. She was completely captivated by Ray Davies today, and I thought she was gonna swoon when she met Rod Stewart. Gonna be fun to go watch his show with her later tonight.
Of course, Rod the Bod is no Slash, but still. He's quite the Scottish Gentleman. For a dirty old man, ha ha. But he had my Wife giggling and blushing like a silly schoolgirl. He's still got it, after all this time.
Hmm. Naughty Schoolgirl Cate. I like that idea. Heh heh.
Maybe I should sing a little Rod to Cate when she comes out of the bathroom. Do a little dirty dancing with her out here on the terrace. Maybe a little Hot Legs.
Or Do Ya Think I'm Sexy? Ha ha. Betcha I can guess her answer to that question.
I know I'm gonna crash pretty soon, but I'm not ready yet. Wanna enjoy this a little longer, wanna share it with my Baby, just us. Now that we're done with the public party it's time for the private one.
I got a little slip of paper in my pocket that the Missus needs to check out. And let me demonstrate. I made sure to keep this one, have been carrying it around since the show's over, ready to whip it out when I could steal Cate for a moment alone. Which didn't happen 'til now.
"A cunning linguist is popular in any language," it says. Heh heh. That's really fucking dirty. I'm liking these crazy-ass fortune cookies a little more every day.
And I'm multilingual, Baby. Heh heh heh.
Friday, June 24
7:25 pm
Dressing Room
Alright, Goddammit....
"You will look fantastic reflected on my ceiling."
Where the FUCK did these cookies come from?
Dressing Room
Alright, Goddammit....
"You will look fantastic reflected on my ceiling."
Where the FUCK did these cookies come from?
Thursday, June 23
5:30 pm
Suite
Is it EVER gonna stop fucking RAINING?
Jesus Christ. Had a little bit of sun this morning, now it's back to cloudy and gray and the weatherman's saying more rain tonight. May catch a break for tomorrow night's show, but rain forecasted for Hyde Park on Saturday too.
Another soggy show at Murrayfield last night. It's driving me absolutely fucking nuts to have to watch every single damned step I take on the stage, to not be able to go out on the ramp because it's wet and slick. I feel like I'm doing these shows half-assed because I can't dance and run around, even though I know my voice is spot-on.
Cate told me not to worry, I'm certainly full-assed. Or maybe she said I'm being a full-on Ass. That was probably it. She's had enough of my whining about this fucking brace. Though she's still glad to be here with me instead of back home by herself.
For better AND for worse, Baby. Ha ha.
Yesterday I showed up for soundcheck and got another surprise. Two, actually. The first one was a gift from PK and the crew -- a brand new, pimped-out rock-and-roll cane for the Old Crippled Geezer. Apparently Dawn and Abby fixed it up -- it's got a big-ass silver skull at the top. Looks like something from a Harry Potter movie. Or part of Alice's stage show.
Ha ha, now that's a thought. Wonder what the fans would think if I limped out on stage with my big scary cane a top hat and freaky-eyed makeup and a boa constrictor wrapped around my shoulders. And a leather codpiece. Now THAT would get some press, ha ha.
No More Mister Nice Guy. Heh heh. Jonny's Little Shop of Horrors.
The other surprise wasn't quite as an affectionate gesture. More of a Fuck-with-the-Lead-Singer deal. I went up onstage to start the check and found my mic stand was missing. In its place was one of those old-man walkers. You know, the cage thingie, with tennis balls on the feet so it doesn't clomp around? And welded to the front crossbar of the thing was half a mic stand, with my cordless sitting right in the clamp. It was the perfect height, all I had to do was go lean on the walker and the head was right at my lips.
And the whole thing was spray-painted white.
Fucking Smartass Bryan.
So it was a weird soundcheck. I refused to clomp around in the walker in the rain, just took the mic and hobbled along with my skull-stick. Asked Cate what she wanted to hear; she told me she likes that I've been doing Wild is the Wind lately. Apparently it's her favorite song off New Jersey.
Huh. Learn something new about my Wife everyday. Or maybe I knew that already and just wasn't paying attention when she told me. That's the more likely scenario, ha ha.
So I did Wind for her in soundcheck, and added it to the acoustic set. It works pretty nice, I think.
After soundcheck we hung out, did the press stuff and photo ops with the opening act contest winners, met some VIPs, all that shit. I managed to sneak Cate away to my dressing room for a little makeout session before I had to start getting my head in the game.
Oh, and I asked Dawn about the weird fortune cookies. She told me she has no earthly idea what I'm talking about -- sexy fortunes? I didn't have the evidence from the last couple cookies on me, so I told her she had to take my word for it.
Well, Dawn was completely confused so she pulled out her big cookie box and told me to pick one out and open it, see what it says. I did, and got some usual boring prediction like "an unexpected visitor will grace your home" or some shit like that. So I picked out 2 more, totally at random, and got other boring shit.
WTF? Now Dawn thinks I'm crazy. She tried to humor me, though. Said maybe a couple "non-standard" cookies got mixed in with the "inspirational" ones she ordered. I guess this new place has certain theme packs of cookies, for different events. Maybe they have a "dirty cookie" pack or something.
Anyway, I figured she was right, until I broke open last night's cookie and it said "Champagne can tickle the throat... and so can you."
Now THAT's a dirty fortune.
I showed it to Cate and she just laughed and told me to relax, Dawn's probably right. Just a minor mix-up with the bakery. And she said I should be flattered, because it's not exactly a prediction, it's reality.
Well, she does have a point there. So I told her to prove it to me again. Heh heh. Make my fortune come true.
She told me to get over myself and earn a fucking blowjob. Ouch.
Maybe tonight, ha ha. Stevie and Maureen are in town; we're going out to the theater and late dinner with them. A nice play, a candlelight dinner, some good wine and great company... maybe that will put the Missus in The Mood.
Then we can come back here and she can polish my Pimp-Stick. Heh heh.
Suite
Is it EVER gonna stop fucking RAINING?
Jesus Christ. Had a little bit of sun this morning, now it's back to cloudy and gray and the weatherman's saying more rain tonight. May catch a break for tomorrow night's show, but rain forecasted for Hyde Park on Saturday too.
Another soggy show at Murrayfield last night. It's driving me absolutely fucking nuts to have to watch every single damned step I take on the stage, to not be able to go out on the ramp because it's wet and slick. I feel like I'm doing these shows half-assed because I can't dance and run around, even though I know my voice is spot-on.
Cate told me not to worry, I'm certainly full-assed. Or maybe she said I'm being a full-on Ass. That was probably it. She's had enough of my whining about this fucking brace. Though she's still glad to be here with me instead of back home by herself.
For better AND for worse, Baby. Ha ha.
Yesterday I showed up for soundcheck and got another surprise. Two, actually. The first one was a gift from PK and the crew -- a brand new, pimped-out rock-and-roll cane for the Old Crippled Geezer. Apparently Dawn and Abby fixed it up -- it's got a big-ass silver skull at the top. Looks like something from a Harry Potter movie. Or part of Alice's stage show.
Ha ha, now that's a thought. Wonder what the fans would think if I limped out on stage with my big scary cane a top hat and freaky-eyed makeup and a boa constrictor wrapped around my shoulders. And a leather codpiece. Now THAT would get some press, ha ha.
No More Mister Nice Guy. Heh heh. Jonny's Little Shop of Horrors.
The other surprise wasn't quite as an affectionate gesture. More of a Fuck-with-the-Lead-Singer deal. I went up onstage to start the check and found my mic stand was missing. In its place was one of those old-man walkers. You know, the cage thingie, with tennis balls on the feet so it doesn't clomp around? And welded to the front crossbar of the thing was half a mic stand, with my cordless sitting right in the clamp. It was the perfect height, all I had to do was go lean on the walker and the head was right at my lips.
And the whole thing was spray-painted white.
Fucking Smartass Bryan.
So it was a weird soundcheck. I refused to clomp around in the walker in the rain, just took the mic and hobbled along with my skull-stick. Asked Cate what she wanted to hear; she told me she likes that I've been doing Wild is the Wind lately. Apparently it's her favorite song off New Jersey.
Huh. Learn something new about my Wife everyday. Or maybe I knew that already and just wasn't paying attention when she told me. That's the more likely scenario, ha ha.
So I did Wind for her in soundcheck, and added it to the acoustic set. It works pretty nice, I think.
After soundcheck we hung out, did the press stuff and photo ops with the opening act contest winners, met some VIPs, all that shit. I managed to sneak Cate away to my dressing room for a little makeout session before I had to start getting my head in the game.
Oh, and I asked Dawn about the weird fortune cookies. She told me she has no earthly idea what I'm talking about -- sexy fortunes? I didn't have the evidence from the last couple cookies on me, so I told her she had to take my word for it.
Well, Dawn was completely confused so she pulled out her big cookie box and told me to pick one out and open it, see what it says. I did, and got some usual boring prediction like "an unexpected visitor will grace your home" or some shit like that. So I picked out 2 more, totally at random, and got other boring shit.
WTF? Now Dawn thinks I'm crazy. She tried to humor me, though. Said maybe a couple "non-standard" cookies got mixed in with the "inspirational" ones she ordered. I guess this new place has certain theme packs of cookies, for different events. Maybe they have a "dirty cookie" pack or something.
Anyway, I figured she was right, until I broke open last night's cookie and it said "Champagne can tickle the throat... and so can you."
Now THAT's a dirty fortune.
I showed it to Cate and she just laughed and told me to relax, Dawn's probably right. Just a minor mix-up with the bakery. And she said I should be flattered, because it's not exactly a prediction, it's reality.
Well, she does have a point there. So I told her to prove it to me again. Heh heh. Make my fortune come true.
She told me to get over myself and earn a fucking blowjob. Ouch.
Maybe tonight, ha ha. Stevie and Maureen are in town; we're going out to the theater and late dinner with them. A nice play, a candlelight dinner, some good wine and great company... maybe that will put the Missus in The Mood.
Then we can come back here and she can polish my Pimp-Stick. Heh heh.
Wednesday, June 22
8:15 am
Terrace
Up early, couldn't sleep. Having coffee out here on the balcony and running some scales and melodies on my Tak. Practice makes perfect, or so they say.
Cate's still sleeping. She's almost on London time and getting used to the vamp hours. We went to bed around 2 am, after a delightful evening at a couple lovely local Pubs. Neither of us drank much; we just enjoyed the company and being together in this great city.
When we came back to the room we poured a couple glasses of cognac and curled up together out here on the balcony, looked out over the city. Just took time to relax and breathe and talk.
For the first time in the last couple days we talked about Operation Baby B, as she calls it. Cate said she was a little disappointed when Aunt Flo showed up last week; she was really hoping she was pregnant. But she knows this may take awhile, especially since we're at the mercy of our globetrotting schedules for the next couple months. We just gotta keep trying.
Practice makes perfect when it comes to that, too. Heh heh.
Cate seemed a little melancholy, kinda quiet and introspective. Not sad or anything, just... gentle. She told me how much she's missed me these past couple weeks, how she's been trying to stay wrapped up in her work but she just can't focus.
And she really surprised me when she told me something she technically shouldn't have. I mean, I already know most of the story and this was kind of an update or epilogue or whatever... but still. She told me where she was the last few days, and what she was doing. The truth. No cover stories or code words.
Cate was on Grand Cayman. She had to go back to appear at some kind of court hearing and to give a deposition. And not about her case. About her attack.
The Cops caught the guys who tried to abduct Cate, apparently after they kidnapped and raped some other poor girl. She had to go identify them as her attackers, then sit through whatever their court procedures are to charge them and get them set up for trial. She also had to be deposed by the defense attorney, which was the reason for her delay in getting out of the country.
She has to go back when they go to trial. She has to testify. I fucking hate that idea, but at the same time I want to be sure these assholes get what they deserve. Well, they won't get what they deserve, but hopefully they'll be locked up for a long damned time and they won't be able to hurt anybody else.
Of course Cate swore me to secrecy and of course I won't tell anybody. I think she needed to tell me, to lift some of the burden from her heart as well as to be honest with me. This is something she needs to share, to let somebody help her with. Especially since she has to walk a fine line in this court proceeding, because she can't reveal her true occupation or reason for being in the Caymans when the attack happened. She can't blow her cover or the case. It's gonna be hard, but if anybody can pull this off, My Baby can.
I marvel at my Wife's strength and smarts. I honestly don't know how she does it. She makes me so proud. I'm humbled that she agreed to spend her life with me, that she wants to bear my child.
And I'm so thankful she's here with me now. Safe and sound.
1:20 pm
Airport
Is it ever gonna stop fucking raining?
Saw a story on the morning news about some guy in Denmark who's building an ark. An actual, seaworthy ark. He's filling it with a bunch of plastic animals right now but plans to get real ones.
Yeah, coulda used that damned thing in Helsinki.
Terrace
Up early, couldn't sleep. Having coffee out here on the balcony and running some scales and melodies on my Tak. Practice makes perfect, or so they say.
Cate's still sleeping. She's almost on London time and getting used to the vamp hours. We went to bed around 2 am, after a delightful evening at a couple lovely local Pubs. Neither of us drank much; we just enjoyed the company and being together in this great city.
When we came back to the room we poured a couple glasses of cognac and curled up together out here on the balcony, looked out over the city. Just took time to relax and breathe and talk.
For the first time in the last couple days we talked about Operation Baby B, as she calls it. Cate said she was a little disappointed when Aunt Flo showed up last week; she was really hoping she was pregnant. But she knows this may take awhile, especially since we're at the mercy of our globetrotting schedules for the next couple months. We just gotta keep trying.
Practice makes perfect when it comes to that, too. Heh heh.
Cate seemed a little melancholy, kinda quiet and introspective. Not sad or anything, just... gentle. She told me how much she's missed me these past couple weeks, how she's been trying to stay wrapped up in her work but she just can't focus.
And she really surprised me when she told me something she technically shouldn't have. I mean, I already know most of the story and this was kind of an update or epilogue or whatever... but still. She told me where she was the last few days, and what she was doing. The truth. No cover stories or code words.
Cate was on Grand Cayman. She had to go back to appear at some kind of court hearing and to give a deposition. And not about her case. About her attack.
The Cops caught the guys who tried to abduct Cate, apparently after they kidnapped and raped some other poor girl. She had to go identify them as her attackers, then sit through whatever their court procedures are to charge them and get them set up for trial. She also had to be deposed by the defense attorney, which was the reason for her delay in getting out of the country.
She has to go back when they go to trial. She has to testify. I fucking hate that idea, but at the same time I want to be sure these assholes get what they deserve. Well, they won't get what they deserve, but hopefully they'll be locked up for a long damned time and they won't be able to hurt anybody else.
Of course Cate swore me to secrecy and of course I won't tell anybody. I think she needed to tell me, to lift some of the burden from her heart as well as to be honest with me. This is something she needs to share, to let somebody help her with. Especially since she has to walk a fine line in this court proceeding, because she can't reveal her true occupation or reason for being in the Caymans when the attack happened. She can't blow her cover or the case. It's gonna be hard, but if anybody can pull this off, My Baby can.
I marvel at my Wife's strength and smarts. I honestly don't know how she does it. She makes me so proud. I'm humbled that she agreed to spend her life with me, that she wants to bear my child.
And I'm so thankful she's here with me now. Safe and sound.
1:20 pm
Airport
Is it ever gonna stop fucking raining?
Saw a story on the morning news about some guy in Denmark who's building an ark. An actual, seaworthy ark. He's filling it with a bunch of plastic animals right now but plans to get real ones.
Yeah, coulda used that damned thing in Helsinki.
Tuesday, June 21
1:25 am
Suite
Wide awake.
One of the downsides of sleeping 12 hours. And of the Vampire Life. Middle of the fucking night and you're nowhere near sleepy.
Poor Cate's completely fucked up. She's crossed 9 time zones in the last 3 days. She's trying her best to get in sync with my clock but it's not easy. In a couple days she'll be up with me; we'll be able to actually enjoy her little vacation, I hope. Think I'm gonna hop over to Paris with her for a day or 2 after Hyde Park, if she wants to. Or maybe we'll just go straight to Dublin. We'll see what she feels like doing.
Had a great evening out with my Wife. Did a little shopping, had a nice candlelit dinner on the Thames. She wasn't much in the mood to shop and was worried about me hobbling along on my cane and brace, so we didn't spend long in the boutiques. She got the necessities; a couple pairs of jeans, a few tops, a pair of shoes. Plus a few lacy little things at a lingerie shop. That was fun, watching her try them on. Heh heh.
Just got off the phone with the Kids. I've been so out of it last couple days I didn't even realize I missed Father's Day. I guess I do remember Jakey and Romey telling me "Happy Daddy Day" when we were in Denmark, but it kinda went in one ear and out the other.
But that also means I forgot to call my Dad and give him good wishes. I feel like a shit for that, though I'm sure he understands. Cate covered my ass though; sent him a gift certificate for a couple rounds of golf at that resort he likes. Now he can get away from Mom for a couple hours, ha ha.
So anyway, Jakey and Romey started their summer Arts Camp today. Music and drama and filmmaking. Jakey's eating that stuff up, of course. It's only Day One and he's already been cast as the male lead in whatever play they're doing. Of course, he can't remember what it is -- he just knows he's the Lead, ha ha. That's my Boy. Complete spotlight hog.
Romey said he had fun too; he likes the music part. Totally into percussion. Said he wants to be a drummer like Uncle Teek. Guess Dorothea will need to soundproof his room too, ha ha.
Romeo asked me where Russell went today after he woke up from his nap with Cate; apparently Russell forgot to text. I told Romeo he was out on a date. Russell met some cute little Brit-Girl Ferret and they're off riding the London Eye, ha ha. Romey didn't quite know what that meant. Guess my sense of humor is a little over his head.
As for Jess, he started football camp today and is wiped out. Says he's going to bed early, but I doubt that. He'll be in his room texting the night away. Turns out he had a pretty good weekend. Dorothea suspended the last couple days of his sentence for good behavior and let him take Bridget out Saturday night, though she did tighten up curfew.
Jess and Bridget went out for dinner and to the movies. I teased him a little about whether he got a goodnight kiss, and he actually kinda chuckled a little and said "Yeah, Dad. I got a kiss." Which tells me he got a little more than that. Probably at least second base, heh heh.
Didn't get a chance to talk to Princess. She's working at the Parrot tonight though she did text me to say Hi after she saw she missed her call. Dorothea said that arrangement seems to be working out well so far; Steph loves having the Hamptons house to herself. I'm sure she does.
So now I'm all caught up on what's going on back home. And I'm wide fucking awake.
Wonder if Cate's up to a Pub Crawl?
11:25 pm
Suite
Russell went to Wimbledon today. He thought it was really cool. Sat on Cate's shoulder and watched the tennis ball flying back and forth over the net. His little ferret head just went side to side to side to side to side to side....
Things got a little hairy when he decided he wanted to chase the ball. Thank God he listens to Cate.
I love hearing Romey giggle like a lunatic when I tell him shit like that. God, I really miss my Little Buddy. Right now I'm living for August, when we can all just hang out on the beach. But I'll get to see him next week too, when I pop back around home for some clean undies and a little 4th of July BBQ before we head to Turkey. Can't wait for that. I miss my Kids.
Don't know if Russell will want to come back out on the road with us for July. Think he may miss Romeo too much.
Cate was less impressed with Wimbledon than Russell was, ha ha. She doesn't hate tennis, but she's not exactly a fan. She did say it was pretty cool to be at such a prestigious event, though. I think that was just her way of being nice and humoring her Husband, ha ha.
After the matches we went out for a light dinner (if there is such a thing in London), then came back here to meet up with some of the Gang. Going out for a proper Pub Crawl tonight since we didn't do it last night. Ended up just hanging out in the hotel bar. What a bunch of Old Farts we are -- too lazy to even leave the damned hotel for a pint when all of London Town is right outside our door. Pathetic.
Tomorrow I have to be up relatively early. We have some press shit to do for Hard Rock, then gotta catch the jet to Edinburgh for the show. Cate's a little bummed we won't have any time to sightsee there. She was hoping to see a castle or a loch or something. Knowing her she wants to track down Nessie, ha ha.
Turns out my lovely red-headed wife with the Irish maiden name is also a quarter Scottish. Her father's mother was a Scot. That explains a lot, ha ha. I'll have to bring her back here later this year, when we have some time to relax and enjoy the sights. Maybe I can find her ancestral castle or something and we can stay near there. I'll add that to the to-do list for August, ha ha. Genealogical research.
Gonna have to have something to keep me occupied when I'm laid up after my knee surgery. Dammit, second time under the knife in 6 months. That's gonna suck. But at least this time I won't have to shave my balls.
Wifey-poo's ready to go, it seems. Time to round up the Lads and hit the town.
Wonder if Russell drinks Guinness?
Suite
Wide awake.
One of the downsides of sleeping 12 hours. And of the Vampire Life. Middle of the fucking night and you're nowhere near sleepy.
Poor Cate's completely fucked up. She's crossed 9 time zones in the last 3 days. She's trying her best to get in sync with my clock but it's not easy. In a couple days she'll be up with me; we'll be able to actually enjoy her little vacation, I hope. Think I'm gonna hop over to Paris with her for a day or 2 after Hyde Park, if she wants to. Or maybe we'll just go straight to Dublin. We'll see what she feels like doing.
Had a great evening out with my Wife. Did a little shopping, had a nice candlelit dinner on the Thames. She wasn't much in the mood to shop and was worried about me hobbling along on my cane and brace, so we didn't spend long in the boutiques. She got the necessities; a couple pairs of jeans, a few tops, a pair of shoes. Plus a few lacy little things at a lingerie shop. That was fun, watching her try them on. Heh heh.
Just got off the phone with the Kids. I've been so out of it last couple days I didn't even realize I missed Father's Day. I guess I do remember Jakey and Romey telling me "Happy Daddy Day" when we were in Denmark, but it kinda went in one ear and out the other.
But that also means I forgot to call my Dad and give him good wishes. I feel like a shit for that, though I'm sure he understands. Cate covered my ass though; sent him a gift certificate for a couple rounds of golf at that resort he likes. Now he can get away from Mom for a couple hours, ha ha.
So anyway, Jakey and Romey started their summer Arts Camp today. Music and drama and filmmaking. Jakey's eating that stuff up, of course. It's only Day One and he's already been cast as the male lead in whatever play they're doing. Of course, he can't remember what it is -- he just knows he's the Lead, ha ha. That's my Boy. Complete spotlight hog.
Romey said he had fun too; he likes the music part. Totally into percussion. Said he wants to be a drummer like Uncle Teek. Guess Dorothea will need to soundproof his room too, ha ha.
Romeo asked me where Russell went today after he woke up from his nap with Cate; apparently Russell forgot to text. I told Romeo he was out on a date. Russell met some cute little Brit-Girl Ferret and they're off riding the London Eye, ha ha. Romey didn't quite know what that meant. Guess my sense of humor is a little over his head.
As for Jess, he started football camp today and is wiped out. Says he's going to bed early, but I doubt that. He'll be in his room texting the night away. Turns out he had a pretty good weekend. Dorothea suspended the last couple days of his sentence for good behavior and let him take Bridget out Saturday night, though she did tighten up curfew.
Jess and Bridget went out for dinner and to the movies. I teased him a little about whether he got a goodnight kiss, and he actually kinda chuckled a little and said "Yeah, Dad. I got a kiss." Which tells me he got a little more than that. Probably at least second base, heh heh.
Didn't get a chance to talk to Princess. She's working at the Parrot tonight though she did text me to say Hi after she saw she missed her call. Dorothea said that arrangement seems to be working out well so far; Steph loves having the Hamptons house to herself. I'm sure she does.
So now I'm all caught up on what's going on back home. And I'm wide fucking awake.
Wonder if Cate's up to a Pub Crawl?
11:25 pm
Suite
Russell went to Wimbledon today. He thought it was really cool. Sat on Cate's shoulder and watched the tennis ball flying back and forth over the net. His little ferret head just went side to side to side to side to side to side....
Things got a little hairy when he decided he wanted to chase the ball. Thank God he listens to Cate.
I love hearing Romey giggle like a lunatic when I tell him shit like that. God, I really miss my Little Buddy. Right now I'm living for August, when we can all just hang out on the beach. But I'll get to see him next week too, when I pop back around home for some clean undies and a little 4th of July BBQ before we head to Turkey. Can't wait for that. I miss my Kids.
Don't know if Russell will want to come back out on the road with us for July. Think he may miss Romeo too much.
Cate was less impressed with Wimbledon than Russell was, ha ha. She doesn't hate tennis, but she's not exactly a fan. She did say it was pretty cool to be at such a prestigious event, though. I think that was just her way of being nice and humoring her Husband, ha ha.
After the matches we went out for a light dinner (if there is such a thing in London), then came back here to meet up with some of the Gang. Going out for a proper Pub Crawl tonight since we didn't do it last night. Ended up just hanging out in the hotel bar. What a bunch of Old Farts we are -- too lazy to even leave the damned hotel for a pint when all of London Town is right outside our door. Pathetic.
Tomorrow I have to be up relatively early. We have some press shit to do for Hard Rock, then gotta catch the jet to Edinburgh for the show. Cate's a little bummed we won't have any time to sightsee there. She was hoping to see a castle or a loch or something. Knowing her she wants to track down Nessie, ha ha.
Turns out my lovely red-headed wife with the Irish maiden name is also a quarter Scottish. Her father's mother was a Scot. That explains a lot, ha ha. I'll have to bring her back here later this year, when we have some time to relax and enjoy the sights. Maybe I can find her ancestral castle or something and we can stay near there. I'll add that to the to-do list for August, ha ha. Genealogical research.
Gonna have to have something to keep me occupied when I'm laid up after my knee surgery. Dammit, second time under the knife in 6 months. That's gonna suck. But at least this time I won't have to shave my balls.
Wifey-poo's ready to go, it seems. Time to round up the Lads and hit the town.
Wonder if Russell drinks Guinness?
Monday, June 20
12:35 pm
London
In Bed with My Wife
I feel like Hell. I look like Hell.
But if this is Hell, I'll take it.
Cate's here, sleeping beside me. Not gonna wake her, just gonna watch her sleep. She's exhausted, poor thing. She looks so vulnerable and innocent with her eyes closed and her lips parted and all that red hair tangled up everywhere.
She's hugging her pillow. Pretty sure Russell's curled up somewhere in that pillowcase or in a nest of Cate's hair, happy as a clam. He's smiling because Cate's here too, I'm sure. Ha ha. In fact, think I'll take a pic to send to Romey. Quietly, so I don't wake her.
We ain't got nowhere to be today. Staying right here. Recovering. Hiding away from the world for awhile. That's all I can handle right now. Room service and sleep, not necessarily in that order.
Got in from Denmark around 2 am. Got up to our suite, put out the Do Not Disturb sign, and collapsed into bed. Thank God Cate was here to help me undress; I would have ended up sleeping in my clothes. Didn't have an ounce of energy left to undo that fucking leg brace.
Think that may have been the only time ever I didn't want to jump my wife when she took my pants off. Okay, that's not completely true. I wanted to.... I just had no physical capability. None.
But that's okay with Cate too I think. She peeled off her clothes and snuggled up close to me and was out cold before I could tell her one more time how grateful I am to have her here.
I have a feeling she knows.
Just took my pill like a Good Boy; Nurse Cate set it out on my nightstand with a bottle of water so I didn't even have to get up. Think I'm gonna close my eyes again and see how long I can stay in Happyland....
6:15 pm
Suite
I feel like a new man. Amazing what 12 hours of sleep and a good, hard orgasm will do for an Old Guy. Even my knee feels good.
A little sexual healing, ha ha.
Getting ready to go out with My Baby and do a little shopping, then grab some dinner. Gotta buy her some new duds; she's still wearing my clothes. Sent all her stuff but a pair of jeans to the hotel laundry.
That means she's not wearing panties, heh heh. And she looks sexy as hell in my shirt, the tails tied up around her waist. Love it when Cate dresses like that, just casual in jeans and a shirt and no makeup and her hair up in a ponytail. She's so beautiful, so natural.
But I'm gonna go spoil her, buy her whatever pretty things she wants. Have a nice little date with my Wife, then come back and let her make love to me again.
London
In Bed with My Wife
I feel like Hell. I look like Hell.
But if this is Hell, I'll take it.
Cate's here, sleeping beside me. Not gonna wake her, just gonna watch her sleep. She's exhausted, poor thing. She looks so vulnerable and innocent with her eyes closed and her lips parted and all that red hair tangled up everywhere.
She's hugging her pillow. Pretty sure Russell's curled up somewhere in that pillowcase or in a nest of Cate's hair, happy as a clam. He's smiling because Cate's here too, I'm sure. Ha ha. In fact, think I'll take a pic to send to Romey. Quietly, so I don't wake her.
We ain't got nowhere to be today. Staying right here. Recovering. Hiding away from the world for awhile. That's all I can handle right now. Room service and sleep, not necessarily in that order.
Got in from Denmark around 2 am. Got up to our suite, put out the Do Not Disturb sign, and collapsed into bed. Thank God Cate was here to help me undress; I would have ended up sleeping in my clothes. Didn't have an ounce of energy left to undo that fucking leg brace.
Think that may have been the only time ever I didn't want to jump my wife when she took my pants off. Okay, that's not completely true. I wanted to.... I just had no physical capability. None.
But that's okay with Cate too I think. She peeled off her clothes and snuggled up close to me and was out cold before I could tell her one more time how grateful I am to have her here.
I have a feeling she knows.
Just took my pill like a Good Boy; Nurse Cate set it out on my nightstand with a bottle of water so I didn't even have to get up. Think I'm gonna close my eyes again and see how long I can stay in Happyland....
6:15 pm
Suite
I feel like a new man. Amazing what 12 hours of sleep and a good, hard orgasm will do for an Old Guy. Even my knee feels good.
A little sexual healing, ha ha.
Getting ready to go out with My Baby and do a little shopping, then grab some dinner. Gotta buy her some new duds; she's still wearing my clothes. Sent all her stuff but a pair of jeans to the hotel laundry.
That means she's not wearing panties, heh heh. And she looks sexy as hell in my shirt, the tails tied up around her waist. Love it when Cate dresses like that, just casual in jeans and a shirt and no makeup and her hair up in a ponytail. She's so beautiful, so natural.
But I'm gonna go spoil her, buy her whatever pretty things she wants. Have a nice little date with my Wife, then come back and let her make love to me again.
Sunday, June 19
4:35 pm
Venue
If I was a racehorse they'd shoot me.
Jesus Christ, I don't know when I've ever felt this awful. The popped calf last summer wasn't this bad. Drugs or not, I hardly slept last night, my back is killing me, I'm hobbling around on crutches with this fucking brace.
Maybe they should just shoot me.
But first I gotta do soundcheck.
Gonna be some shitty show tonight. But Goddammit, I'm doing it. Motherfucking pain pills and all.
Think this is the Music Gods telling me it's time to pack it in. This tour was it, the final straw. Too damned long, too damned big, too damned much. Why the fuck did I let the promoters talk me into this shit? We're all just barely holding it together, physically, mentally, emotionally.... All this time away from our families, all the abuse our bodies are taking.
I'm done. These last few shows, then I'm done. Gonna stay home and play with my kids and cook dinner for my wife and visit my daughter in college.
Done.
6:55 pm
Dressing Room
Is it possible for an employee to sexually harass her Boss?
Today's fortune: "Your passport photo doesn't do your nude photos justice."
Dawn?
Nah....
Surely not.
I don't think so, anyway....
Dressing Room
Is it possible for an employee to sexually harass her Boss?
Today's fortune: "Your passport photo doesn't do your nude photos justice."
Dawn?
Nah....
Surely not.
I don't think so, anyway....
7:55 pm
Dressing Room
My Wife is amazing. I can hardly speak, my heart is so full from what she's done for me this time. Just sitting here, smiling like a goof from my pain meds and from pure, unadulterated Joy.
She's here.
My Baby flew all night and half the day to get to me. She said knows how much I need her right now, and she needs to be with me too. She said nothing else matters to her right now but me.
God, I love her so much.
After I finally stopped kissing her and let her take a breath Cate told me what happened. She said the minute she heard what happened Friday she couldn't think of anything else but me. When she had a break she called her boss to extend her leave that she already had scheduled to come to London, then she called the airline and got herself on the next flight home.
Cate wanted to get to me as soon as possible, which I understand. She still feels guilty that she wasn't there when I got hurt last time, at Giants. But then when she went back into her meeting the Judge -- I guess she was in some court thing -- shut everything down for the day and told everybody to come back tomorrow.
So she was pissed, had to call back and rebook her flight for Saturday night. She said she hardly slept Friday, she kept worrying about me. But she didn't want to tip me off to her plans, just in case something went wrong and she couldn't make it over here. She said that sucked, talking to me and hearing me so out of it and in pain and biting her tongue to keep from telling me she'd be here soon to take care of me.
In all honesty I'm not sure if I would have remembered her telling me she was coming anyway--everything after the Vicodin's kind of a blur, ha ha. But she's right, knowing she was trying to get to me and being delayed by her job would have just been more torturous for me.
Saturday morning Cate got up and went to wherever she had to go and only half the people were there so they ended up sitting around waiting. Her contact or whoever told her they may have to reschedule for Monday. Cate's answer to that was "Bullshit." She told whoever she was meeting with they had 4 hours to get their shit done, then she was leaving whether they liked it or not.
So apparently that kicked things into high gear and calls got made and people showed up. And Cate did exactly what she said she threatened, got up and left when it was time, went to the airport, and got on the last flight out. If she hadn't made that plane she would still be stuck there.
No flights out on Sunday? Where the fuck was she, anyway?
Cate wanted to get to me as soon as possible, which I understand. She still feels guilty that she wasn't there when I got hurt last time, at Giants. But then when she went back into her meeting the Judge -- I guess she was in some court thing -- shut everything down for the day and told everybody to come back tomorrow.
So she was pissed, had to call back and rebook her flight for Saturday night. She said she hardly slept Friday, she kept worrying about me. But she didn't want to tip me off to her plans, just in case something went wrong and she couldn't make it over here. She said that sucked, talking to me and hearing me so out of it and in pain and biting her tongue to keep from telling me she'd be here soon to take care of me.
In all honesty I'm not sure if I would have remembered her telling me she was coming anyway--everything after the Vicodin's kind of a blur, ha ha. But she's right, knowing she was trying to get to me and being delayed by her job would have just been more torturous for me.
Saturday morning Cate got up and went to wherever she had to go and only half the people were there so they ended up sitting around waiting. Her contact or whoever told her they may have to reschedule for Monday. Cate's answer to that was "Bullshit." She told whoever she was meeting with they had 4 hours to get their shit done, then she was leaving whether they liked it or not.
So apparently that kicked things into high gear and calls got made and people showed up. And Cate did exactly what she said she threatened, got up and left when it was time, went to the airport, and got on the last flight out. If she hadn't made that plane she would still be stuck there.
No flights out on Sunday? Where the fuck was she, anyway?
Anyhow, Cate flew back to New York, had the duty agent meet her at JFK in the middle of the damned night, handed off her gun and her leave paperwork and some case stuff, then turned right around and got on a redeye to London. She said she barely made her connecting flight to Denmark; she was afraid she wasn't going to get here before the show started. And she knew I needed to see her before I go out there on that stage tonight.
She's right. I do need her. So very much.
She looks like hell, exhausted from frustration and worry and traveling and being way upside down timewise. She's using my shower right now, trying to wash the "travel ick" off her, as she says. Wish I could get in there with her and just hold her and kiss her and wash her hair, but with this stupid brace and icepack on my knee there just ain't no way. Besides, Dawn would kill me. I'm already dressed and my hair's done, ha ha.
All Cate has with her is her laptop and the carryon she packed for her little 2-day trip to somewhere warm. She said she froze her ass off on the way over here from the airport; it ain't supposed to be this cold in the summertime, ha ha. Dawn set Cate up with one of my shirts and jackets for the show since she doesn't have anything clean with her. She's gonna have to go shopping tomorrow, pick up some clothes and girl stuff.
But she's here. That's what matters. I don't care what she looks like. She's here, and she's staying with me the whole next couple weeks. All the way through Dublin. That makes me so fucking happy I can hardly stand it.
She didn't tell anybody she was doing this. She didn't even call Matty until she was on the plane from London, and then just to ask him to send a car to the airport because she was afraid if she had to rely on public transportation she wouldn't get here in time to see me before the show. My Wife and my Little Bro conspiring to take care of me again.
I'm one lucky Bastard. A banged up, broke down Old Bastard, but a lucky one for sure.
Gonna get through this show and get outta town, somewhere I can curl up with my Wife and lick my wounds and try to heal. Someplace quiet, just us, away from the Circus.
But now I know I can do it. After that fucking wretched soundcheck I actually seriously doubted my ability to make it through this show. I haven't done that since the 80s, when my chords were shot.
But My Baby's here. And I got good painkillers and one good leg and a fucking great band. I can leap tall buildings in a single bound, bum knee or not, ha ha. I'm fucking Superman.
Bring it on, Denmark. Gonna kick your ass.
Saturday, June 18
1:50 am
Suite
Fuck me. I'm too fucking old for this shit.
Knee went to shit again, right in the middle of the show. I gutted it out but it's fucking KILLING me now. Good thing my pants were tight because that was the only damned thing that kept it from ballooning up. I made it offstage by myself but have never been so fucking happy to see a chair in my entire fucking life as I was to see the one at the bottom of those stairs. Had to sit for a few minutes before I could grit my teeth and walk to the cars.
PK and Matty wanted to carry me to the car. I said no fucking way. It's open-air, not underground like at Giants. Ain't nobody gonna see this old man being carried off the stage. I may limp off, but nobody's fucking touching me.
The second I got in the backseat and the door closed I damned near passed out.
PK had a doc already waiting back at the hotel. We went in the back way, the guys went up to their rooms and I went straight to another room for a quick once-over by Dean and the Doc before PK hustled me out another door and into a van for a trip to the ER.
Another pair of stage jeans, ripped to shit. Dawn will be thrilled, ha ha. At least I was wearing underwear this time.
X-rays negative, just a bad sprain. But my knee looks like somebody took a sledgehammer to it. I've been alternating ice and heat the last hour, it's still throbbing like a Bitch.
Dean said he's sleeping in here tonight to keep an eye on the swelling, help me with ice, etc. I didn't get to cool down so he's concerned about my back, too. I told him I'll be fine; I won't be sleeping much. He laughed and said "Hell you won't, the Vicodin's gonna knock you on your ass in about half an hour."
I think he may be right. I'm starting to get a little woozy already.
Cate knew before I got off the stage; thanks to Twitter-world she saw the frantic eyewitness reports of my new "horrible injury." She texted me and told me to call when I can. Then she texted Matt; he told her the deal and that I'm being my usual stubborn-ass self, refusing to take it easy or cut the show short.
I called her from the car on the way to the ER. She was in a meeting but broke out long enough to talk to me for a few minutes. Told me to keep her posted; she'll call when she can. And she said something else that took a load off my mind -- she's taking an earlier flight out of wherever-the-hell-she is, leaving tonight. So she'll be home and safe by tomorrow morning.
Thank God. I don't need to worry about her too, while I'm hobbling around on the fucking crutches they're making me use until I go onstage tomorrow.
And I WILL go onstage tomorrow. My voice still works, I ain't completely broke.
If I can just survive 18 more shows.... then I can break down. Be a Broke Down Piece of Man, ha ha.
Man I am getting woozy....
3:50 pm
Suite
Stuck in my fucking gilded cage.
Everybody's being so fucking nice to the decrepit old handicapped Rock Star. Driving me batshit crazy. Had to tell Dean and PK to get the fuck out of my room, leave me alone. Need some Goddamned peace and quiet.
So everybody else went out shopping and shit. Still trying to decide whether we're flying to Denmark tonight or not. I've had Doc poking and prodding at my knee every couple hours since practically first fucking light. And guess what? It's STILL injured. DUH.
He's a nice guy, the Doc. A Brit, with that very proper Brit bedside manner. So he apologized quite properly when he shoved a fucking three-inch needle in my football-sized knee and sucked out a big tube of fluid a couple hours ago.
That fucking sucked. Then he gave me a cortisone shot, which sucked even more. Now I'm sitting here with my bag of ice and my heating pad while Matt's sitting in the other room, probably with his fucking ear up against the door listening to be sure I'm not trying to walk around.
Little fucking pain-in-my-ass Bro. Probably fucking narced me out to Mom, too. She tried to call a couple times; I ignored her. Don't feel like dealing with her right now.
I gotta get out of this damned room. Even if it is to get on a plane to another hotel room. Goddammit.
I can't get in touch with Cate either. She texted me and said her plans changed too, now she has to stay an extra day wherever the fuck she is because some meeting had to be postponed to today or some shit. I really need to know she's out of that damned place and home safe. Or at least talk to her to know she's okay.
These painkillers I'm on ain't exactly killing the pain, but I think they're making me see things, ha ha. I actually had a conversation with Russell over what movie to watch while I'm stuck here in this damned room. He wants to watch Harry Potter and I want to watch The King's Speech. And I have thumbs and the remote, so I win. Ha ha.
I'm talking to an imaginary ferret.
Well, I guess I have been taking pictures of an imaginary ferret for the past week and a half.
Whatever.
Maybe ferrets are bad luck. Maybe the Ferret Lady back in Oslo put some kind of curse on me, made all this shit happen. Maybe I somehow pissed off the Ferret Gods and this is retaliation. Being stuck in a cage like a weasel.
God, I gotta get some damned sleep.
11:30 pm
Suite
I feel a little better now. This afternoon I finally took a nap, passed out, whatever you want to call it. All I know is I was dead to the world for a few hours.
And I talked to Cate. She's still stuck wherever the fuck she is, apparently still battling with the dickheads she's meeting with. But she said come Hell or high water she's flying out of there tonight, back to New York. She's had enough of their fucking around. She said she came prepared to work and they didn't so she's not cutting them anymore slack.
That's my Girl. No tolerance for Mickey-Mouse bullshit. When she puts that Special Agent suit on she's professional to the core. You don't fuck with her when she's in work mode. These idiots oughta know that. If they didn't they sure as shit do now.
She said she probably won't call me when she gets home because she wants me to get some rest, but she'll text to say she made it home safe. I told her I can live with that as long as I get to talk to her before the show tomorrow.
I miss her.
Anyway, knee feels a little better, swelling's down a little, probably because I've stayed off it. But now my leg is stiff as hell from that fucking brace. Doc wanted me to sleep in it, but the way I felt just after a 3-hour nap, no fucking way.
The Guys took pity on me tonight. PK got with the hotel people and had them put together a little dinner for us up here on the floor. Matt actually let me out of the cage to limp all the way down the hall on my crutches (which is only like 4 doors down) to the hospitality suite. Fucking Prison Warden.
It was nice, the hotel did a good job and the food was great. I didn't eat much though, not much appetite. Guess it's because of the meds. Then the guys and I all came back to my room and hung out for awhile, had a few drinks and shot the shit. I had a glass of wine though I probably shouldn't have with the meds, but I don't fucking care. If I'm stuck in my room I'm gonna at least enjoy myself a little.
Actually, I think it helped. I was definitely in a better mood after that, ha ha.
And of course, the evening couldn't be just as simple as a bunch of guys sitting around and chewing the fat. Nope, not with this bunch. Around 10:00 there was a knock at the door and Matt jumped up to answer it. I figured it was the Doc, coming back to check out my knee again.
It wasn't. It was a nurse. A tall blonde nurse in a garter belt and high heels. With perfect, gorgeous tits.
Leave it to Sambora to find high-class strippers in fucking Finland.
Well, I was feeling pretty good from my glass of wine so I didn't protest too much. Nurse Janna was very professional, made sure to give me a nice, thorough, gentle examination. She gave the guys check-ups too, just to be sure everybody was in good health, ha ha.
Actually, she was very talented. Graceful, beautiful, alluring -- a great dancer. She told me she has studied ballet since she was a little girl, and she dances with a city company as a hobby. She definitely had dancer's legs. No fucking doubt about that.
Apparently exotic dancing pays much better than classical ballet. Like that's a surprise, ha ha.
So anyway, Janna did her thing for her hour, Richie tipped her and thanked her and escorted her to the door, then everybody decided to call it a night. I musta looked tired or something. Or the guys all wanted to go back to their rooms and watch porn and spank the monkey, ha ha.
Except Richie. Knowing him, he probably gave Janna his room number along with that tip. I'll probably hear the headboard thumping the wall and moaning in Finnish any time now.
Well, maybe not. This ain't exactly the Holiday Inn.
So I hobbled back into my bedroom, took off that fucking brace, and very carefully stripped down and crawled into bed. Just gonna lay here and flip through channels until I either find something interesting or fall asleep.
Heh heh. Naughty Nurse.
I have good friends.
Suite
Fuck me. I'm too fucking old for this shit.
Knee went to shit again, right in the middle of the show. I gutted it out but it's fucking KILLING me now. Good thing my pants were tight because that was the only damned thing that kept it from ballooning up. I made it offstage by myself but have never been so fucking happy to see a chair in my entire fucking life as I was to see the one at the bottom of those stairs. Had to sit for a few minutes before I could grit my teeth and walk to the cars.
PK and Matty wanted to carry me to the car. I said no fucking way. It's open-air, not underground like at Giants. Ain't nobody gonna see this old man being carried off the stage. I may limp off, but nobody's fucking touching me.
The second I got in the backseat and the door closed I damned near passed out.
PK had a doc already waiting back at the hotel. We went in the back way, the guys went up to their rooms and I went straight to another room for a quick once-over by Dean and the Doc before PK hustled me out another door and into a van for a trip to the ER.
Another pair of stage jeans, ripped to shit. Dawn will be thrilled, ha ha. At least I was wearing underwear this time.
X-rays negative, just a bad sprain. But my knee looks like somebody took a sledgehammer to it. I've been alternating ice and heat the last hour, it's still throbbing like a Bitch.
Dean said he's sleeping in here tonight to keep an eye on the swelling, help me with ice, etc. I didn't get to cool down so he's concerned about my back, too. I told him I'll be fine; I won't be sleeping much. He laughed and said "Hell you won't, the Vicodin's gonna knock you on your ass in about half an hour."
I think he may be right. I'm starting to get a little woozy already.
Cate knew before I got off the stage; thanks to Twitter-world she saw the frantic eyewitness reports of my new "horrible injury." She texted me and told me to call when I can. Then she texted Matt; he told her the deal and that I'm being my usual stubborn-ass self, refusing to take it easy or cut the show short.
I called her from the car on the way to the ER. She was in a meeting but broke out long enough to talk to me for a few minutes. Told me to keep her posted; she'll call when she can. And she said something else that took a load off my mind -- she's taking an earlier flight out of wherever-the-hell-she is, leaving tonight. So she'll be home and safe by tomorrow morning.
Thank God. I don't need to worry about her too, while I'm hobbling around on the fucking crutches they're making me use until I go onstage tomorrow.
And I WILL go onstage tomorrow. My voice still works, I ain't completely broke.
If I can just survive 18 more shows.... then I can break down. Be a Broke Down Piece of Man, ha ha.
Man I am getting woozy....
3:50 pm
Suite
Stuck in my fucking gilded cage.
Everybody's being so fucking nice to the decrepit old handicapped Rock Star. Driving me batshit crazy. Had to tell Dean and PK to get the fuck out of my room, leave me alone. Need some Goddamned peace and quiet.
So everybody else went out shopping and shit. Still trying to decide whether we're flying to Denmark tonight or not. I've had Doc poking and prodding at my knee every couple hours since practically first fucking light. And guess what? It's STILL injured. DUH.
He's a nice guy, the Doc. A Brit, with that very proper Brit bedside manner. So he apologized quite properly when he shoved a fucking three-inch needle in my football-sized knee and sucked out a big tube of fluid a couple hours ago.
That fucking sucked. Then he gave me a cortisone shot, which sucked even more. Now I'm sitting here with my bag of ice and my heating pad while Matt's sitting in the other room, probably with his fucking ear up against the door listening to be sure I'm not trying to walk around.
Little fucking pain-in-my-ass Bro. Probably fucking narced me out to Mom, too. She tried to call a couple times; I ignored her. Don't feel like dealing with her right now.
I gotta get out of this damned room. Even if it is to get on a plane to another hotel room. Goddammit.
I can't get in touch with Cate either. She texted me and said her plans changed too, now she has to stay an extra day wherever the fuck she is because some meeting had to be postponed to today or some shit. I really need to know she's out of that damned place and home safe. Or at least talk to her to know she's okay.
These painkillers I'm on ain't exactly killing the pain, but I think they're making me see things, ha ha. I actually had a conversation with Russell over what movie to watch while I'm stuck here in this damned room. He wants to watch Harry Potter and I want to watch The King's Speech. And I have thumbs and the remote, so I win. Ha ha.
I'm talking to an imaginary ferret.
Well, I guess I have been taking pictures of an imaginary ferret for the past week and a half.
Whatever.
Maybe ferrets are bad luck. Maybe the Ferret Lady back in Oslo put some kind of curse on me, made all this shit happen. Maybe I somehow pissed off the Ferret Gods and this is retaliation. Being stuck in a cage like a weasel.
God, I gotta get some damned sleep.
11:30 pm
Suite
I feel a little better now. This afternoon I finally took a nap, passed out, whatever you want to call it. All I know is I was dead to the world for a few hours.
And I talked to Cate. She's still stuck wherever the fuck she is, apparently still battling with the dickheads she's meeting with. But she said come Hell or high water she's flying out of there tonight, back to New York. She's had enough of their fucking around. She said she came prepared to work and they didn't so she's not cutting them anymore slack.
That's my Girl. No tolerance for Mickey-Mouse bullshit. When she puts that Special Agent suit on she's professional to the core. You don't fuck with her when she's in work mode. These idiots oughta know that. If they didn't they sure as shit do now.
She said she probably won't call me when she gets home because she wants me to get some rest, but she'll text to say she made it home safe. I told her I can live with that as long as I get to talk to her before the show tomorrow.
I miss her.
Anyway, knee feels a little better, swelling's down a little, probably because I've stayed off it. But now my leg is stiff as hell from that fucking brace. Doc wanted me to sleep in it, but the way I felt just after a 3-hour nap, no fucking way.
The Guys took pity on me tonight. PK got with the hotel people and had them put together a little dinner for us up here on the floor. Matt actually let me out of the cage to limp all the way down the hall on my crutches (which is only like 4 doors down) to the hospitality suite. Fucking Prison Warden.
It was nice, the hotel did a good job and the food was great. I didn't eat much though, not much appetite. Guess it's because of the meds. Then the guys and I all came back to my room and hung out for awhile, had a few drinks and shot the shit. I had a glass of wine though I probably shouldn't have with the meds, but I don't fucking care. If I'm stuck in my room I'm gonna at least enjoy myself a little.
Actually, I think it helped. I was definitely in a better mood after that, ha ha.
And of course, the evening couldn't be just as simple as a bunch of guys sitting around and chewing the fat. Nope, not with this bunch. Around 10:00 there was a knock at the door and Matt jumped up to answer it. I figured it was the Doc, coming back to check out my knee again.
It wasn't. It was a nurse. A tall blonde nurse in a garter belt and high heels. With perfect, gorgeous tits.
Leave it to Sambora to find high-class strippers in fucking Finland.
Well, I was feeling pretty good from my glass of wine so I didn't protest too much. Nurse Janna was very professional, made sure to give me a nice, thorough, gentle examination. She gave the guys check-ups too, just to be sure everybody was in good health, ha ha.
Actually, she was very talented. Graceful, beautiful, alluring -- a great dancer. She told me she has studied ballet since she was a little girl, and she dances with a city company as a hobby. She definitely had dancer's legs. No fucking doubt about that.
Apparently exotic dancing pays much better than classical ballet. Like that's a surprise, ha ha.
So anyway, Janna did her thing for her hour, Richie tipped her and thanked her and escorted her to the door, then everybody decided to call it a night. I musta looked tired or something. Or the guys all wanted to go back to their rooms and watch porn and spank the monkey, ha ha.
Except Richie. Knowing him, he probably gave Janna his room number along with that tip. I'll probably hear the headboard thumping the wall and moaning in Finnish any time now.
Well, maybe not. This ain't exactly the Holiday Inn.
So I hobbled back into my bedroom, took off that fucking brace, and very carefully stripped down and crawled into bed. Just gonna lay here and flip through channels until I either find something interesting or fall asleep.
Heh heh. Naughty Nurse.
I have good friends.
Friday, June 17
7:30 am
Bed
Just talked to Cate. She's at her hotel, had a long day of flying and meetings, but she's going to bed now. Wanted to say goodnight.
I must have asked her 50 times if she's okay. She finally told me to stop fucking asking, she's FINE, ha ha. But I could tell from her voice she understands I'm worried. She promised she'll call me when she wakes up, which will be afternoon here. I definitely want to talk to her before the show. I need to talk to her before the show, to put my mind at ease.
I just gotta trust her, have faith that she knows what she's doing. She was right when she told me back when it happened that her getting attacked was just a case of bad Karma. It could have happened to anybody; she wasn't targeted because of her job or anything. She was simply a female target of opportunity for those assholes.
They picked the wrong woman. Of course that didn't make what happened any less horrible. But Cate did have a point -- if those thugs had picked some other woman in the bar that night they may have been successful. Some poor girl would have suffered who knows what kind of terrible things, what kind of awful fate. At least Cate could fight. And she did.
Still, thinking about some asshole grabbing my wife, beating her.... it makes me sick to my stomach. Cate swears it will never happen again; she's now hyper-aware of her surroundings and takes every possible precaution to keep herself from being a target. But we both know she can't guarantee her safety, just like I can't guarantee my plane won't fall out of the sky.
Life is full of risks.
Now I'm gonna do what my smart, beautiful wife told me to do. I'm gonna take a few deep breaths, I'm gonna pull up those pics of her and me on my iPhone, I'm gonna smile at the happy memories, and I'm gonna go back to sleep for a few hours. I got a show to do later.
And I'm gonna be careful not to squish Russell. Per Cate's orders.
Yes Dear.
4:45 pm
Venue
Just arrived for soundcheck.
Got in the van and Richie was wearing Groucho Glasses.
Better late than never, I guess, ha ha.
So long as he's the ONLY one wearing them.
7:20 pm
Dressing Room
Today's Fortune: "Nice Pants. Can I talk you out of them?"
Think there was a mix-up in Dawn's cookie order....
Bed
Just talked to Cate. She's at her hotel, had a long day of flying and meetings, but she's going to bed now. Wanted to say goodnight.
I must have asked her 50 times if she's okay. She finally told me to stop fucking asking, she's FINE, ha ha. But I could tell from her voice she understands I'm worried. She promised she'll call me when she wakes up, which will be afternoon here. I definitely want to talk to her before the show. I need to talk to her before the show, to put my mind at ease.
I just gotta trust her, have faith that she knows what she's doing. She was right when she told me back when it happened that her getting attacked was just a case of bad Karma. It could have happened to anybody; she wasn't targeted because of her job or anything. She was simply a female target of opportunity for those assholes.
They picked the wrong woman. Of course that didn't make what happened any less horrible. But Cate did have a point -- if those thugs had picked some other woman in the bar that night they may have been successful. Some poor girl would have suffered who knows what kind of terrible things, what kind of awful fate. At least Cate could fight. And she did.
Still, thinking about some asshole grabbing my wife, beating her.... it makes me sick to my stomach. Cate swears it will never happen again; she's now hyper-aware of her surroundings and takes every possible precaution to keep herself from being a target. But we both know she can't guarantee her safety, just like I can't guarantee my plane won't fall out of the sky.
Life is full of risks.
Now I'm gonna do what my smart, beautiful wife told me to do. I'm gonna take a few deep breaths, I'm gonna pull up those pics of her and me on my iPhone, I'm gonna smile at the happy memories, and I'm gonna go back to sleep for a few hours. I got a show to do later.
And I'm gonna be careful not to squish Russell. Per Cate's orders.
Yes Dear.
4:45 pm
Venue
Just arrived for soundcheck.
Got in the van and Richie was wearing Groucho Glasses.
Better late than never, I guess, ha ha.
So long as he's the ONLY one wearing them.
7:20 pm
Dressing Room
Today's Fortune: "Nice Pants. Can I talk you out of them?"
Think there was a mix-up in Dawn's cookie order....
Thursday, June 16
5:40 am
Bed
Woke up heart pounding, drenched with sweat. Scared to fucking death. Don't know why, other than a nightmare. I can't remember the dream, no details other than I was panicking because I couldn't find Cate.
I had to call her to be sure she's okay. She is. Thank God.
She talked me down, told me she wishes she was here to hold me and stroke my hair and tell me everything's okay, like I do for her when she has night terrors. But since she can't do that, she said she'd stay on the phone with me as long as I want.
She told me about her day, asked me about the show, talked about the news and the weather and stuff... just everyday normal stuff to calm me down. Reminded me she'll be with me in a week. Asked me what kind of things we might have time to do when she visits, where we can go to spend some time alone.
It helped. Hearing her voice, thinking ahead to when she's here... it brought me back to reality. Made me realize everything's really okay. But it took awhile for my pulse to slow down.
After about 20 minutes I told her to go to sleep. I could hear how tired she was in her voice. I know she didn't get home until after 10 and tomorrow morning she's gotta catch a flight.
I told her to call me back when she wakes up, tell me good morning. I'll probably be getting ready to head to Finland, we'll have time to talk. Or she can call me from the airport if she doesn't have time when she's running out the door.
And now I don't want to go back to sleep. Afraid of what I may dream about.
Gonna take a shower. Sleep later.
2:15 pm
Suite
I'm tired as hell.
Didn't go back to sleep. Went to the gym instead, then a long shower, then hit the spa for a massage before lunch. My body feels good, but my brain is beat.
I'll take a nap on the plane.
If I can sleep, that is. Talked to Cate this morning when she was at the airport waiting for her flight. Knowing where she's going ain't gonna help me relax. Well, kinda knowing. She gave me enough clues to make me realize what's going on, but of course she can't give me details. Especially not over the phone.
She said she's going to Puerto Rico. Idiot that I am, I said "Oh, that's nice. Maybe you'll get a little time on the beach." And she said "No, Baby. I'm going to Puerto Rico."
It took me a minute but her words and her tone sunk in through my thick skull. She's not really going to Puerto Rico. She's going back to wherever the Hell it was that she got attacked. Great. Her first trip out of the country since that awful experience, and she's gotta go back there.
I really fucking hate her job sometimes.
She said she doesn't want me to worry, it's a quick trip, in and out for a meeting. Fly in today, work tomorrow, back home Saturday. Not an Op. But she thought she should tell me. She sounded a little strange, kinda like she's nervous. That's not like Cate. She's usually completely calm and controlled.
I asked her what was wrong and she told me she's just tired. I think that's bullshit; she's obviously uncomfortable going back there. But what the Hell can I say or do about it? It's her job, her case, her life. She'd just get pissed if I complained about it, and she doesn't need that. I don't need that. So I just gotta bite my tongue and beg her to keep in close touch with me, let me know she's okay.
She promised to check in as much as she can, probably by text. No Skype even though Cate has her laptop; doesn't want to take a chance of tipping off her location. She said she'll call me too, at least once a day. With the time change it's gonna be difficult but we'll manage.
She's on her plane now, I'm heading for mine soon.
Next Friday can't get here soon enough.
Bed
Woke up heart pounding, drenched with sweat. Scared to fucking death. Don't know why, other than a nightmare. I can't remember the dream, no details other than I was panicking because I couldn't find Cate.
I had to call her to be sure she's okay. She is. Thank God.
She talked me down, told me she wishes she was here to hold me and stroke my hair and tell me everything's okay, like I do for her when she has night terrors. But since she can't do that, she said she'd stay on the phone with me as long as I want.
She told me about her day, asked me about the show, talked about the news and the weather and stuff... just everyday normal stuff to calm me down. Reminded me she'll be with me in a week. Asked me what kind of things we might have time to do when she visits, where we can go to spend some time alone.
It helped. Hearing her voice, thinking ahead to when she's here... it brought me back to reality. Made me realize everything's really okay. But it took awhile for my pulse to slow down.
After about 20 minutes I told her to go to sleep. I could hear how tired she was in her voice. I know she didn't get home until after 10 and tomorrow morning she's gotta catch a flight.
I told her to call me back when she wakes up, tell me good morning. I'll probably be getting ready to head to Finland, we'll have time to talk. Or she can call me from the airport if she doesn't have time when she's running out the door.
And now I don't want to go back to sleep. Afraid of what I may dream about.
Gonna take a shower. Sleep later.
2:15 pm
Suite
I'm tired as hell.
Didn't go back to sleep. Went to the gym instead, then a long shower, then hit the spa for a massage before lunch. My body feels good, but my brain is beat.
I'll take a nap on the plane.
If I can sleep, that is. Talked to Cate this morning when she was at the airport waiting for her flight. Knowing where she's going ain't gonna help me relax. Well, kinda knowing. She gave me enough clues to make me realize what's going on, but of course she can't give me details. Especially not over the phone.
She said she's going to Puerto Rico. Idiot that I am, I said "Oh, that's nice. Maybe you'll get a little time on the beach." And she said "No, Baby. I'm going to Puerto Rico."
It took me a minute but her words and her tone sunk in through my thick skull. She's not really going to Puerto Rico. She's going back to wherever the Hell it was that she got attacked. Great. Her first trip out of the country since that awful experience, and she's gotta go back there.
I really fucking hate her job sometimes.
She said she doesn't want me to worry, it's a quick trip, in and out for a meeting. Fly in today, work tomorrow, back home Saturday. Not an Op. But she thought she should tell me. She sounded a little strange, kinda like she's nervous. That's not like Cate. She's usually completely calm and controlled.
I asked her what was wrong and she told me she's just tired. I think that's bullshit; she's obviously uncomfortable going back there. But what the Hell can I say or do about it? It's her job, her case, her life. She'd just get pissed if I complained about it, and she doesn't need that. I don't need that. So I just gotta bite my tongue and beg her to keep in close touch with me, let me know she's okay.
She promised to check in as much as she can, probably by text. No Skype even though Cate has her laptop; doesn't want to take a chance of tipping off her location. She said she'll call me too, at least once a day. With the time change it's gonna be difficult but we'll manage.
She's on her plane now, I'm heading for mine soon.
Next Friday can't get here soon enough.
Wednesday, June 15
3:40 pm
Suite
Getting ready to head to the venue.
Just talked to Romey -- he's all excited about the new pictures of Russell I sent. He got 3 of 'em today. One was from last night, Russell eating dinner with us (he liked the smoked herring, ha ha). Another one was from today of him working out in the gym with me. Romey was a little concerned about that one, told me to be careful that Russell doesn't get his tail caught in the treadmill. I told him that's Dean's job, to keep an eye on Russell. When he's not spotting Russell doing bench presses, that is. Ha ha.
The third pic is the one that totally freaked Romey out. I ran into the Ferret Lady again. Last night we saw a couple more people walking around with ferrets, and we all just kinda shrugged and thought WTF? Then I got on the elevator this morning with Matt and Dean to go down to the gym. It stopped a couple floors down, and there she was. Tall blonde, dressed to the nines, carrying all three of those fuzzy little weasels. They had on their little pink harnesses and leashes again.
She got on the elevator and I couldn't resist asking her about them. She obviously had no fucking idea who I am, which was fine, but she was very nice. Her name was Anya. Turns out she's from Austria, in Oslo for -- get this -- a Ferret Show. People actually breed and show those things! Apparently this is a pretty big show, about 500 ferrets or so. When I told Richie he laughed and called it "Weasel Westminster." Like the dog show in NYC.
Wonder if the ferrets at this show fetch and run an obstacle course and all that stuff? Ha ha. Maybe I'll tell Romeo they do so he'll train Russell.
This Anya lady said she has over 40 ferrets, but these 3 were her big prizewinners. The white long-haired one is actually an Angora Ferret. I had no idea there were such things. Gotta admit, they were pretty cute.
And she was nice enough to let me take a picture of her pets. And to let me hold one while Matt took my pic, so I could send it to Romey. I held the long-haired one, which was a girl named Lisl. Russell tucked right up beside her on my arm, ha ha. See? I told Romeo Russell was gonna meet chicks on this tour, ha ha.
Dorothea said Romey freaked when he saw that picture, and she did a little too. Said I better not be bringing one of those damned things home with me. No worries, apparently they're pretty hard to bring from Europe to the States because of customs laws. Besides, the imaginary one is keeping me busy enough--I don't need to take care of a real one for the rest of the tour.
So I guess I'll know what the deal is if attendance is down at our show tonight. Everybody will be at FerretPalooza.
7:25 pm
Dressing Room
Today's cookie: "You deserve a spanking."
WTF?
Suite
Getting ready to head to the venue.
Just talked to Romey -- he's all excited about the new pictures of Russell I sent. He got 3 of 'em today. One was from last night, Russell eating dinner with us (he liked the smoked herring, ha ha). Another one was from today of him working out in the gym with me. Romey was a little concerned about that one, told me to be careful that Russell doesn't get his tail caught in the treadmill. I told him that's Dean's job, to keep an eye on Russell. When he's not spotting Russell doing bench presses, that is. Ha ha.
The third pic is the one that totally freaked Romey out. I ran into the Ferret Lady again. Last night we saw a couple more people walking around with ferrets, and we all just kinda shrugged and thought WTF? Then I got on the elevator this morning with Matt and Dean to go down to the gym. It stopped a couple floors down, and there she was. Tall blonde, dressed to the nines, carrying all three of those fuzzy little weasels. They had on their little pink harnesses and leashes again.
She got on the elevator and I couldn't resist asking her about them. She obviously had no fucking idea who I am, which was fine, but she was very nice. Her name was Anya. Turns out she's from Austria, in Oslo for -- get this -- a Ferret Show. People actually breed and show those things! Apparently this is a pretty big show, about 500 ferrets or so. When I told Richie he laughed and called it "Weasel Westminster." Like the dog show in NYC.
Wonder if the ferrets at this show fetch and run an obstacle course and all that stuff? Ha ha. Maybe I'll tell Romeo they do so he'll train Russell.
This Anya lady said she has over 40 ferrets, but these 3 were her big prizewinners. The white long-haired one is actually an Angora Ferret. I had no idea there were such things. Gotta admit, they were pretty cute.
And she was nice enough to let me take a picture of her pets. And to let me hold one while Matt took my pic, so I could send it to Romey. I held the long-haired one, which was a girl named Lisl. Russell tucked right up beside her on my arm, ha ha. See? I told Romeo Russell was gonna meet chicks on this tour, ha ha.
Dorothea said Romey freaked when he saw that picture, and she did a little too. Said I better not be bringing one of those damned things home with me. No worries, apparently they're pretty hard to bring from Europe to the States because of customs laws. Besides, the imaginary one is keeping me busy enough--I don't need to take care of a real one for the rest of the tour.
So I guess I'll know what the deal is if attendance is down at our show tonight. Everybody will be at FerretPalooza.
7:25 pm
Dressing Room
Today's cookie: "You deserve a spanking."
WTF?
Tuesday, June 14
3:15 pm
Plane
Heading for Norway. Land of fish and blonde people and perpetual daylight, ha ha.
All kidding aside, it's a beautiful country. Too bad I won't have time to see much of it.
Someday when I retire I need to go back and re-visit all these places I've been and actually experience them. See stuff other than hotels and restaurants and venues.
Add that to the bucket list.
I really wish Cate could have taken a couple months leave from work and come with me. But I guess it wouldn't have been much fun for her; I'd be working most of the time and we wouldn't really get to do much sightseeing. But it would have made these days off a lot easier for me. These are the days when I really miss my family, miss my Wife.
But she has a life of her own. A career that she loves. I have to respect that. I don't have to like it, but I have to respect it. She's her own woman, one of the things I love most about her.
Counting the days until she meets me in London.
Speaking of the Kiddos, talked to them all last night before I went to bed. Jakey and Romey are already driving their mother crazy now that school's been out a whole day, ha ha. She's got them enrolled in a couple summer camp things, but they don't start for a week yet. So Dorothea's trying to keep the Chuckleheads entertained in the meantime. Today they're out in Jersey; going to Wildwood with friends. That oughta be a fun time.
Jess actually talked to me, didn't just grunt and mumble like last time. Maybe he's letting me off the hook a little since his house arrest is almost over. He starts football camp next week; goes through the end of June. So he'll be busy, and probably too damned tired at the end of the day to give Dorothea any shit. I'm hoping he'll revert to his usual mellow, relaxed self. This moody teenager stuff doesn't work well for him. Or me. Or D.
Funny what Girl Troubles can do to a guy, ha ha.
Apparently Bridget forgave Jess for having to scratch on their date Saturday night. She came by the house Sunday night with Steph after their little girls' week down the Shore was done. Jess said she just hung out and watched a movie, no big deal. But when I talked to Stephie she told me Bridget and Jess sat on the couch together and she caught them holding hands.
Steph's apparently gotten over her revulsion at the idea of her friend being interested in her little brother. She's not exactly cheerleading them to get together, but she's okay with whatever happens. Stephie said she and Bridget had a lot of time to girl-talk when they were laying around the beach and she now sees how the old boyfriend was "kind of a dick" to Bridget.
It's weird hearing my Baby Girl say stuff like that, but guess I better get used to it. She's a grown woman now, and I'm pretty sure she's inherited my mouth, ha ha.
According to Steph Bridget thinks Jess is sweet and very grown-up for his age. And she likes that he's into community service and stuff. I guess she's gonna be a pre-law student at Princeton in the fall and she's volunteering this summer in one of those free law services clinics in the City. Gotta admire that. This girl obviously has some goals.
So we'll see what happens between Miss Bridget and Mr. Cool. It's good he's got his eye on a girl with some substance, somebody who's making him work for her affection. Knocks his giggolo attitude down a few notches, ha ha. Makes him realize it ain't all about getting laid.
As for Steph, she's gonna work at the Parrot again this summer, starting next week. This will be a big step for her -- Dorothea's gonna let her go stay out at the Hamptons house by herself. D will bring the Chuckles out now and again and Cate will come out for a weekend here and there, but Steph is gonna pretty much take up full-time residence at the house. Good for her to get used to living on her own.
We'll see how many wild parties there are, ha ha.
And I don't want to know how often Brendan sleeps over.
6:50 pm
Suite
I cannot fucking BELIEVE what I saw in the hotel lobby when we were walking in. A beautiful, very-well dressed woman walking her pets on leashes.
Seeing people with dogs or even cats in hotels isn't that unusual in Europe. But I've NEVER seen anything like this.
That chick had three ferrets on strings. Two white, one brown. Fancy, fluffy ones. With little bejeweled pink harnesses and leashes.
What the Fuck?
Romey's gonna freak out when I tell him. I was so shocked I didn't even think to stop and take a picture to send to him.
I think Russell's a little turned on, ha ha.
Plane
Heading for Norway. Land of fish and blonde people and perpetual daylight, ha ha.
All kidding aside, it's a beautiful country. Too bad I won't have time to see much of it.
Someday when I retire I need to go back and re-visit all these places I've been and actually experience them. See stuff other than hotels and restaurants and venues.
Add that to the bucket list.
I really wish Cate could have taken a couple months leave from work and come with me. But I guess it wouldn't have been much fun for her; I'd be working most of the time and we wouldn't really get to do much sightseeing. But it would have made these days off a lot easier for me. These are the days when I really miss my family, miss my Wife.
But she has a life of her own. A career that she loves. I have to respect that. I don't have to like it, but I have to respect it. She's her own woman, one of the things I love most about her.
Counting the days until she meets me in London.
Speaking of the Kiddos, talked to them all last night before I went to bed. Jakey and Romey are already driving their mother crazy now that school's been out a whole day, ha ha. She's got them enrolled in a couple summer camp things, but they don't start for a week yet. So Dorothea's trying to keep the Chuckleheads entertained in the meantime. Today they're out in Jersey; going to Wildwood with friends. That oughta be a fun time.
Jess actually talked to me, didn't just grunt and mumble like last time. Maybe he's letting me off the hook a little since his house arrest is almost over. He starts football camp next week; goes through the end of June. So he'll be busy, and probably too damned tired at the end of the day to give Dorothea any shit. I'm hoping he'll revert to his usual mellow, relaxed self. This moody teenager stuff doesn't work well for him. Or me. Or D.
Funny what Girl Troubles can do to a guy, ha ha.
Apparently Bridget forgave Jess for having to scratch on their date Saturday night. She came by the house Sunday night with Steph after their little girls' week down the Shore was done. Jess said she just hung out and watched a movie, no big deal. But when I talked to Stephie she told me Bridget and Jess sat on the couch together and she caught them holding hands.
Steph's apparently gotten over her revulsion at the idea of her friend being interested in her little brother. She's not exactly cheerleading them to get together, but she's okay with whatever happens. Stephie said she and Bridget had a lot of time to girl-talk when they were laying around the beach and she now sees how the old boyfriend was "kind of a dick" to Bridget.
It's weird hearing my Baby Girl say stuff like that, but guess I better get used to it. She's a grown woman now, and I'm pretty sure she's inherited my mouth, ha ha.
According to Steph Bridget thinks Jess is sweet and very grown-up for his age. And she likes that he's into community service and stuff. I guess she's gonna be a pre-law student at Princeton in the fall and she's volunteering this summer in one of those free law services clinics in the City. Gotta admire that. This girl obviously has some goals.
So we'll see what happens between Miss Bridget and Mr. Cool. It's good he's got his eye on a girl with some substance, somebody who's making him work for her affection. Knocks his giggolo attitude down a few notches, ha ha. Makes him realize it ain't all about getting laid.
As for Steph, she's gonna work at the Parrot again this summer, starting next week. This will be a big step for her -- Dorothea's gonna let her go stay out at the Hamptons house by herself. D will bring the Chuckles out now and again and Cate will come out for a weekend here and there, but Steph is gonna pretty much take up full-time residence at the house. Good for her to get used to living on her own.
We'll see how many wild parties there are, ha ha.
And I don't want to know how often Brendan sleeps over.
6:50 pm
Suite
I cannot fucking BELIEVE what I saw in the hotel lobby when we were walking in. A beautiful, very-well dressed woman walking her pets on leashes.
Seeing people with dogs or even cats in hotels isn't that unusual in Europe. But I've NEVER seen anything like this.
That chick had three ferrets on strings. Two white, one brown. Fancy, fluffy ones. With little bejeweled pink harnesses and leashes.
What the Fuck?
Romey's gonna freak out when I tell him. I was so shocked I didn't even think to stop and take a picture to send to him.
I think Russell's a little turned on, ha ha.
Monday, June 13
1:05 am
Suite
Getting ready to head down to the Bar. Sent Hughie and PK and Obie ahead for recon; they say it's not too bad. Lotsa fans like usual, but we've got the whole back of the bar to ourselves so we'll be cool.
Wanted to talk to my Wife first, though. Silly Girl texted me while I was onstage, just a photo. And not the nips-pic I've been begging for all day, either. Goddammit.
She texted me a picture of Cap'n Crunch. Only the Captain's jacket was red, not blue. And he was wearing shades.
Smartass. She should be banned from Photoshop.
So my reply was "Ha Ha, very funny" and to stay close to the computer because I was gonna Skype her when I got back here. She was home, waiting for my call. First thing she said was "Hey, Baby. Where's Tennille?"
Hilarious, my Wife.
But she told me she really liked the jacket; she loves it when I wear red. I told her I picked it because it hides my love handles, ha ha. Actually, Dawn thought it would be good for the webcast and because that's such a big-ass stadium in Munich. If I was the Man in Black the folks way in the back wouldn't be able to see me. Cate agreed, said I should always listen to Dawn. She's way smarter than I am.
Agreed.
So then we got on Skype and things got really good. There was was my Hot Mama, sitting in our living room in that big leather chair. Half-naked.
That was GOOD. But what she was wearing made me laugh. She somehow managed to find half a marching band uniform. It was blue, not red, but she had the jacket with all the gold trim and buttons and cords and shit. And the white hat with the bottle brush on the front.
And she wasn't wearing anything else but black lace panties and high heels. She was turned sideways in the chair, had her legs up over the chair arm, crossed like she was posing for some sorta sexy pinup shot. Showing a good amount of skin, too.
It was fucking FANTASTIC.
But she still wouldn't flash me, Goddammit. She did, however, make a few lewd remarks about blowing my horn in a couple weeks, ha ha. Told her she can play me like any damned instrument she wants.
So she told me to log off Skype and she'd help me along with my visualization.
That woman is damned good at phone sex.
Now I'm nice and relaxed. Ready to hang out with the guys until it's bedtime. Promised Cate I'd call her to say goodnight before I close my eyes. That's a promise I'll damned sure keep.
3:30 pm
Suite
Just heard from Cate, she's in court, waiting to be called to the stand. She's at the beginning of a shit week, sounds weary already. Said she can't wait to come see me and just curl up in my arms.
And she got her period. No Roxy this month.
Dammit.
Suite
Getting ready to head down to the Bar. Sent Hughie and PK and Obie ahead for recon; they say it's not too bad. Lotsa fans like usual, but we've got the whole back of the bar to ourselves so we'll be cool.
Wanted to talk to my Wife first, though. Silly Girl texted me while I was onstage, just a photo. And not the nips-pic I've been begging for all day, either. Goddammit.
She texted me a picture of Cap'n Crunch. Only the Captain's jacket was red, not blue. And he was wearing shades.
Smartass. She should be banned from Photoshop.
So my reply was "Ha Ha, very funny" and to stay close to the computer because I was gonna Skype her when I got back here. She was home, waiting for my call. First thing she said was "Hey, Baby. Where's Tennille?"
Hilarious, my Wife.
But she told me she really liked the jacket; she loves it when I wear red. I told her I picked it because it hides my love handles, ha ha. Actually, Dawn thought it would be good for the webcast and because that's such a big-ass stadium in Munich. If I was the Man in Black the folks way in the back wouldn't be able to see me. Cate agreed, said I should always listen to Dawn. She's way smarter than I am.
Agreed.
So then we got on Skype and things got really good. There was was my Hot Mama, sitting in our living room in that big leather chair. Half-naked.
That was GOOD. But what she was wearing made me laugh. She somehow managed to find half a marching band uniform. It was blue, not red, but she had the jacket with all the gold trim and buttons and cords and shit. And the white hat with the bottle brush on the front.
And she wasn't wearing anything else but black lace panties and high heels. She was turned sideways in the chair, had her legs up over the chair arm, crossed like she was posing for some sorta sexy pinup shot. Showing a good amount of skin, too.
It was fucking FANTASTIC.
But she still wouldn't flash me, Goddammit. She did, however, make a few lewd remarks about blowing my horn in a couple weeks, ha ha. Told her she can play me like any damned instrument she wants.
So she told me to log off Skype and she'd help me along with my visualization.
That woman is damned good at phone sex.
Now I'm nice and relaxed. Ready to hang out with the guys until it's bedtime. Promised Cate I'd call her to say goodnight before I close my eyes. That's a promise I'll damned sure keep.
3:30 pm
Suite
Just heard from Cate, she's in court, waiting to be called to the stand. She's at the beginning of a shit week, sounds weary already. Said she can't wait to come see me and just curl up in my arms.
And she got her period. No Roxy this month.
Dammit.
Sunday, June 12
6:40 pm
Dressing Room
Big one tonight. Shitload of people out there.
Bring it. I'm ready.
Chilling out, texting with Cate while she waits for the feed. She wishes she was here to see it live.
Me too, Baby.
Got my tea, got my earbuds in, Zen-ing out. Getting ready for the huddle.
What the Fuck? My fortune cookie today is even goofier than the ones I had last show: "Shaken, not Stirred. Because you Shake It so Well."
Ha ha ha... wonder if Dawn knows what goes into these things? Pretty damned funny. Kinda like this new cookie place.
Okay. Now just gotta try one last time to convince my wife to text me a pic of her tits, then I gotta get serious. Cone of silence time.
Heh heh.
Dressing Room
Big one tonight. Shitload of people out there.
Bring it. I'm ready.
Chilling out, texting with Cate while she waits for the feed. She wishes she was here to see it live.
Me too, Baby.
Got my tea, got my earbuds in, Zen-ing out. Getting ready for the huddle.
What the Fuck? My fortune cookie today is even goofier than the ones I had last show: "Shaken, not Stirred. Because you Shake It so Well."
Ha ha ha... wonder if Dawn knows what goes into these things? Pretty damned funny. Kinda like this new cookie place.
Okay. Now just gotta try one last time to convince my wife to text me a pic of her tits, then I gotta get serious. Cone of silence time.
Heh heh.
Saturday, June 11
2:35 am
Swuite
heh heh heh heh.
just skyped Cate again.
I like skype. its easy.
can even do it aftr a bottle of wine. And without my pants.=
Cate laghed at me and told me I'm crazy but she loves me annyway. I told he I played her song and she said she knew and she loves me and thankyou.
She said I look HOT in the pictures she saw from the show. I told her I know Im HOT. Wife likes my sunglasses and my rubber shirt.
its not realy rubber.
But she said its tight. she likes that but she can see my love handels when I wear it.
I told her I rather she see my Luve Muscle. heh heh heh.
But she woudnt let me show her my love Muscle on skyp. Say its too easy for people to steal the signal and maybe see me nakked. Said she would just close her eyes and imagin me naked.
sonofabitch!! Stupid geeks spoil all my dirrty fun.
But I moo ned her anyway. Ha ha.
Goin to bed now Tired
10:40 pm
Hotel
Laying around my suite, watching a movie and rubbing my belly. My tummy hurts. Too much German food. I'm farting like a bean-eating camel, even after a half a pack of Tums.
And I discovered today Russell doesn't like sauerkraut or weinerschnitzel. Apparently he texted Romey and told him that. I suspect it's because Romey doesn't like sauerkraut. Hmmm.
But Romey did like the pic I sent him of Russell, sitting on the shoulder of the polka-band accordion guy. He said Russell liked his lederhosen and green felt hat. Hmmm. Maybe the ferret's gonna give up the rock star thing and go the polka route.
Jakey was out at some birthday party so I didn't get to talk to him. Jess grunted at me for a few minutes, but apparently he's sulking in his room since he doesn't get to take Bridget out tonight. Guess I'm still the Bad Guy, even though Momma's the Jail Warden.
Just got off Skype with Cate a little bit ago. I've mastered it now, so my poor Wife won't get any break from my ugly mug, ha ha. Or my ass, apparently. I remember talking to her last night but don't really recall what I said. Or did. Cate said I was sweet and funny and very clearly drunk and horny. And she reminded me that German wine is a lot more potent than what I'm used to.
And apparently I should hide my journal when I know I'm gonna be drinking, ha ha. Though it is pretty amusing to read the next day.
It's raining here in Munich, and back in NYC. Cate was working on some case stuff, just hanging out at home. This morning she went to the gym and to the market, nothing exciting. Just a boring day, she said.
I miss being boring with her. And I haven't even been gone a week yet.
When I called she was being lazy, blowing off the case work she needed to do to watch YouTubes of last night's show. She likes my new red jacket, asked if she can borrow it, ha ha. I told her only if she would peel it off my body first. Heh heh.
She also told me again she likes the new black shirt, but it's a little tight. She calls it the "rubber shirt" ha ha. And shit, I agree with her now that I've seen the pics. That thing makes me look like I have a huge fucking gut. I realize I'm not the skinny little punk I used to be, but Jesus... don't need pics of me looking like that flying out over the wires.
But I guess it's a little late for that, huh?
May have to tell Dawn to shelve that one for a few weeks, until I drop a few pounds.
I certainly can't wear it now, after eating my way through half of Munich tonight. Thank God for t-shirts and shorts with elastic.
Stupid cabbage.
Swuite
heh heh heh heh.
just skyped Cate again.
I like skype. its easy.
can even do it aftr a bottle of wine. And without my pants.=
Cate laghed at me and told me I'm crazy but she loves me annyway. I told he I played her song and she said she knew and she loves me and thankyou.
She said I look HOT in the pictures she saw from the show. I told her I know Im HOT. Wife likes my sunglasses and my rubber shirt.
its not realy rubber.
But she said its tight. she likes that but she can see my love handels when I wear it.
I told her I rather she see my Luve Muscle. heh heh heh.
But she woudnt let me show her my love Muscle on skyp. Say its too easy for people to steal the signal and maybe see me nakked. Said she would just close her eyes and imagin me naked.
sonofabitch!! Stupid geeks spoil all my dirrty fun.
But I moo ned her anyway. Ha ha.
Goin to bed now Tired
10:40 pm
Hotel
Laying around my suite, watching a movie and rubbing my belly. My tummy hurts. Too much German food. I'm farting like a bean-eating camel, even after a half a pack of Tums.
And I discovered today Russell doesn't like sauerkraut or weinerschnitzel. Apparently he texted Romey and told him that. I suspect it's because Romey doesn't like sauerkraut. Hmmm.
But Romey did like the pic I sent him of Russell, sitting on the shoulder of the polka-band accordion guy. He said Russell liked his lederhosen and green felt hat. Hmmm. Maybe the ferret's gonna give up the rock star thing and go the polka route.
Jakey was out at some birthday party so I didn't get to talk to him. Jess grunted at me for a few minutes, but apparently he's sulking in his room since he doesn't get to take Bridget out tonight. Guess I'm still the Bad Guy, even though Momma's the Jail Warden.
Just got off Skype with Cate a little bit ago. I've mastered it now, so my poor Wife won't get any break from my ugly mug, ha ha. Or my ass, apparently. I remember talking to her last night but don't really recall what I said. Or did. Cate said I was sweet and funny and very clearly drunk and horny. And she reminded me that German wine is a lot more potent than what I'm used to.
And apparently I should hide my journal when I know I'm gonna be drinking, ha ha. Though it is pretty amusing to read the next day.
It's raining here in Munich, and back in NYC. Cate was working on some case stuff, just hanging out at home. This morning she went to the gym and to the market, nothing exciting. Just a boring day, she said.
I miss being boring with her. And I haven't even been gone a week yet.
When I called she was being lazy, blowing off the case work she needed to do to watch YouTubes of last night's show. She likes my new red jacket, asked if she can borrow it, ha ha. I told her only if she would peel it off my body first. Heh heh.
She also told me again she likes the new black shirt, but it's a little tight. She calls it the "rubber shirt" ha ha. And shit, I agree with her now that I've seen the pics. That thing makes me look like I have a huge fucking gut. I realize I'm not the skinny little punk I used to be, but Jesus... don't need pics of me looking like that flying out over the wires.
But I guess it's a little late for that, huh?
May have to tell Dawn to shelve that one for a few weeks, until I drop a few pounds.
I certainly can't wear it now, after eating my way through half of Munich tonight. Thank God for t-shirts and shorts with elastic.
Stupid cabbage.
Friday, June 10
1:35 am
Suite
Getting used to Vampire Time again.
This creaky old body's starting to adjust, staying up all night and sleeping half the day. One last round before I get to lead normal hours again.
Helps that we're ahead of back home. Dinnertime there is midnight here. On off-nights gives me something to do to keep me busy besides go to the bar. I can call home and pester my family.
Talked to all of my boys again tonight. Jakey and Romey were happy to hear from me. Jesse not so much. He talked to me a little, but he clearly isn't happy with his Old Man.
I told him I couldn't go to bat for him with his Momma again, about this date he wants to have with Bridget on Saturday night. I tried to explain to him that it's not that I don't want him to take her out. Just not in Jersey.
First of all, he'd have to get over there. He can't legally drive himself, and I'm damned sure Dorothea ain't gonna chauffeur him. And there's no way in hell he could even come close to making curfew. He'd have to stay out at the Jersey house. It would be one thing if D had plans to be out there this weekend, working at the Kitchen or something. But she doesn't. She has stuff to do in the City.
So it would be a huge production and a major imposition on her to accommodate LoverBoy's little rendezvous with his crush. That's too much to ask, especially when Jesse's still grounded for his little DC hotel beer bash. I told Jess if Bridget wants to meet him in the City next weekend or something I can probably support that, but this is over the limit.
Plus I'm afraid to ask Dorothea to even consider it. She already thinks I'm a pushover.
Of course I didn't tell Jess that.
So now he's pissed at me. He didn't mouth off or freak out or anything like that, he just mumbled his way through the rest of our conversation and hung up as soon as he could. That kinda hurt my feelings, but I'll get over it. So will he.
Look at me, being all Parent-y, ha ha. Sometimes it ain't all it's cracked up to be. Think I'd rather have the sex talk again.
After I talked to the boys and said Hi to D I did something I haven't done much because I'm a techno-idiot. I called Cate, then got on Skype so I could have a little date with my lovely Wife.
She was home, which kinda surprised me. Usually when I'm on the road she works late and goes to the gym. But not tonight. She said she was really tired, had a shitty day and just wanted to come home and veg out in the peace and quiet. She was on the terrace when I called.
We talked for almost 2 hours, which was nice. She carried me around the apartment with her while we were talking, ha ha. Fixed herself some dinner, which I could see when she pointed her webcam in the right direction. It was kinda cool, almost like I was there with her. We're gonna have to make this Skype-Date thing a regular event, I think.
I told her about last night's show and about the hotel and the food in Zagreb. She kinda snorted and giggled at me going on and on about Croatia; after awhile I realized why. She's been there, back when she was in the military. Her experience wasn't quite so posh as mine, ha ha.
But she was glad to hear about the guys and the crew, especially about Richie. She said I seem happier this time than I usually do when I'm on the road. I agreed when she said it's because Richie's back, and because I know this is the last trip for awhile. It's been a long damned tour, and the end is in sight.
Then I'm home with my Babies. And hopefully my Baby-to-Be. She smiled and patted her tummy when I said that, said she hopes so too.
So Cate told me a little about what's going on with her job, and about the beast of a week she has ahead of her. She's in court first thing Monday and apparently as soon as she's done with that she's gotta fly off on some quick trip for a case. I didn't ask where and she didn't offer; I know the drill. But she doesn't sound enthused about it, for damned sure.
She did promise me that she wouldn't have any trips that would interfere with her flying over to meet me in London, though she can't control what goes on with court. She better not have to cancel on me. I'm gonna NEED to see her by then. To hell with the wheels of justice turning tirelessly, and all that bullshit.
I could tell my Baby's worn out. She asked me to sing for her, something she rarely does when I'm on the road. She prefers me to serenade her in person. Maybe it was because we could see each other on Skype, even if it is a little weird.
Of course I was more than happy to oblige. We both popped open a bottle of wine and shared a toast across the miles and time zones. I told her the jukebox was free tonight, whatever she wanted I'd play. She had a couple requests for her favorites, most of them not mine. Some Sinatra, some Southside, some Sam Cooke, some Righteous Brothers. She almost killed me with Unchained Melody, ha ha. Can't quite reach some of those notes anymore.
And I played a few of mine for her too, ones she loves. Right Side, Joey, Hello... and of course Superman. When I play that song for her, her smile just fills my heart. Takes me back to that chair beside that big bed in that seaside Georgia villa, when I watched her sleep and the words and music came to me. My beautiful Muse.
So finally, after a second glass of wine and one last song she told me to go to bed. Said she was gonna go take a long, hot bubble bath. Despite my whining and pleading she refused to take her netbook in the bathroom and keep me on Skype while she did that, ha ha.
Still can't talk Cate into naked Skyping, dammit. She'll talk dirty to me all damned night long, but can I even get a flash of nipples? Nooooo......
Anyway, I reluctantly kissed her goodnight and let her go off to her bath. Then I texted her that I love her just to remind her again.
And now I think I'm gonna go take a bubble bath myself. No sense letting that big-ass tub in there go to waste. And then I'll sleep like a baby.
4:30 pm
Venue
Soundcheck Dresden.
Big-ass stadium. Gonna be packed to the gills.
Band's all here, just jammin' out for a bit before we get down to work. Richie's in a Beatles mood today. Wandering around practicing his Liverpool accent, which actually sucks.
Good to have the Big Goof back.
And not a pair of Groucho Glasses in sight.
6:50 pm
Dressing Room
Ahhh... Routine. Back in place. Everything in order.
And Dawn did give me TWO fortune cookies tonight, to make up for neglecting me in Zagreb, ha ha. Said she got 'em from a new place in the City, not the usual place in Chinatown where we get our custom orders. The cookies were great, but the fortunes weren't quite what I expected, although they did make me laugh.
First one: "Confuscious say Man who put hand in pocket feel Cocky." Ha ha -- an oldie but a goodie.
Second one: "Eat Me."
What kinda cookie place IS this? Ha ha.
Alright, on with the pre-show routine....
Suite
Getting used to Vampire Time again.
This creaky old body's starting to adjust, staying up all night and sleeping half the day. One last round before I get to lead normal hours again.
Helps that we're ahead of back home. Dinnertime there is midnight here. On off-nights gives me something to do to keep me busy besides go to the bar. I can call home and pester my family.
Talked to all of my boys again tonight. Jakey and Romey were happy to hear from me. Jesse not so much. He talked to me a little, but he clearly isn't happy with his Old Man.
I told him I couldn't go to bat for him with his Momma again, about this date he wants to have with Bridget on Saturday night. I tried to explain to him that it's not that I don't want him to take her out. Just not in Jersey.
First of all, he'd have to get over there. He can't legally drive himself, and I'm damned sure Dorothea ain't gonna chauffeur him. And there's no way in hell he could even come close to making curfew. He'd have to stay out at the Jersey house. It would be one thing if D had plans to be out there this weekend, working at the Kitchen or something. But she doesn't. She has stuff to do in the City.
So it would be a huge production and a major imposition on her to accommodate LoverBoy's little rendezvous with his crush. That's too much to ask, especially when Jesse's still grounded for his little DC hotel beer bash. I told Jess if Bridget wants to meet him in the City next weekend or something I can probably support that, but this is over the limit.
Plus I'm afraid to ask Dorothea to even consider it. She already thinks I'm a pushover.
Of course I didn't tell Jess that.
So now he's pissed at me. He didn't mouth off or freak out or anything like that, he just mumbled his way through the rest of our conversation and hung up as soon as he could. That kinda hurt my feelings, but I'll get over it. So will he.
Look at me, being all Parent-y, ha ha. Sometimes it ain't all it's cracked up to be. Think I'd rather have the sex talk again.
After I talked to the boys and said Hi to D I did something I haven't done much because I'm a techno-idiot. I called Cate, then got on Skype so I could have a little date with my lovely Wife.
She was home, which kinda surprised me. Usually when I'm on the road she works late and goes to the gym. But not tonight. She said she was really tired, had a shitty day and just wanted to come home and veg out in the peace and quiet. She was on the terrace when I called.
We talked for almost 2 hours, which was nice. She carried me around the apartment with her while we were talking, ha ha. Fixed herself some dinner, which I could see when she pointed her webcam in the right direction. It was kinda cool, almost like I was there with her. We're gonna have to make this Skype-Date thing a regular event, I think.
I told her about last night's show and about the hotel and the food in Zagreb. She kinda snorted and giggled at me going on and on about Croatia; after awhile I realized why. She's been there, back when she was in the military. Her experience wasn't quite so posh as mine, ha ha.
But she was glad to hear about the guys and the crew, especially about Richie. She said I seem happier this time than I usually do when I'm on the road. I agreed when she said it's because Richie's back, and because I know this is the last trip for awhile. It's been a long damned tour, and the end is in sight.
Then I'm home with my Babies. And hopefully my Baby-to-Be. She smiled and patted her tummy when I said that, said she hopes so too.
So Cate told me a little about what's going on with her job, and about the beast of a week she has ahead of her. She's in court first thing Monday and apparently as soon as she's done with that she's gotta fly off on some quick trip for a case. I didn't ask where and she didn't offer; I know the drill. But she doesn't sound enthused about it, for damned sure.
She did promise me that she wouldn't have any trips that would interfere with her flying over to meet me in London, though she can't control what goes on with court. She better not have to cancel on me. I'm gonna NEED to see her by then. To hell with the wheels of justice turning tirelessly, and all that bullshit.
I could tell my Baby's worn out. She asked me to sing for her, something she rarely does when I'm on the road. She prefers me to serenade her in person. Maybe it was because we could see each other on Skype, even if it is a little weird.
Of course I was more than happy to oblige. We both popped open a bottle of wine and shared a toast across the miles and time zones. I told her the jukebox was free tonight, whatever she wanted I'd play. She had a couple requests for her favorites, most of them not mine. Some Sinatra, some Southside, some Sam Cooke, some Righteous Brothers. She almost killed me with Unchained Melody, ha ha. Can't quite reach some of those notes anymore.
And I played a few of mine for her too, ones she loves. Right Side, Joey, Hello... and of course Superman. When I play that song for her, her smile just fills my heart. Takes me back to that chair beside that big bed in that seaside Georgia villa, when I watched her sleep and the words and music came to me. My beautiful Muse.
So finally, after a second glass of wine and one last song she told me to go to bed. Said she was gonna go take a long, hot bubble bath. Despite my whining and pleading she refused to take her netbook in the bathroom and keep me on Skype while she did that, ha ha.
Still can't talk Cate into naked Skyping, dammit. She'll talk dirty to me all damned night long, but can I even get a flash of nipples? Nooooo......
Anyway, I reluctantly kissed her goodnight and let her go off to her bath. Then I texted her that I love her just to remind her again.
And now I think I'm gonna go take a bubble bath myself. No sense letting that big-ass tub in there go to waste. And then I'll sleep like a baby.
4:30 pm
Venue
Soundcheck Dresden.
Big-ass stadium. Gonna be packed to the gills.
Band's all here, just jammin' out for a bit before we get down to work. Richie's in a Beatles mood today. Wandering around practicing his Liverpool accent, which actually sucks.
Good to have the Big Goof back.
And not a pair of Groucho Glasses in sight.
6:50 pm
Dressing Room
Ahhh... Routine. Back in place. Everything in order.
And Dawn did give me TWO fortune cookies tonight, to make up for neglecting me in Zagreb, ha ha. Said she got 'em from a new place in the City, not the usual place in Chinatown where we get our custom orders. The cookies were great, but the fortunes weren't quite what I expected, although they did make me laugh.
First one: "Confuscious say Man who put hand in pocket feel Cocky." Ha ha -- an oldie but a goodie.
Second one: "Eat Me."
What kinda cookie place IS this? Ha ha.
Alright, on with the pre-show routine....
Thursday, June 9
2:05 am
Suite
That felt fuckin' GREAT.
He's Back.
3:15 pm
Suite
Getting ready to head to Dresden, waiting for the Saddle-Up call to head to the plane.
Watching Today Show on the Internet. There's My Girl Savannah, her first day on the job as co-anchor in the 9:00 hour. And she's with Natalie Morales. Now there's a sandwich I wouldn't mind being the filling in, heh heh. Lucky Bastard, that Al Roker.
Gonna miss Meredith, but sometimes change is good. It ain't gonna be the same for sure; Matt and Meredith had such great chemistry. But Ann will do well as co-anchor too. And if it made way for Savannah... Well, I'm good with that.
Cate's already texted me about this, ha ha. Asked if Savannah's moved up a notch on my "free pass" list yet. Silly Wife. Not that she'd ever let me USE one of those free passes. Besides, Savannah could probably hurt me. She's an Amazon. Ha ha. Then again, Cate can hurt me too, and she's littler than I am.
Didn't think I'd say this, but feels good to be back in the routine. Great energy last night, a damned fun time up on that stage. Felt so good to have Richie back. And the love he got from that crowd -- Fantastic. I know he was truly touched. We still have a little rust to shake off, not everything went quite as planned. But we'll get there. A couple more shows under our belt and we'll be back in the groove.
I think we were all a little off last night. Takes awhile to get used to being outside again, back on that big-ass stage. Plus playing European stadiums is a lot different from big venues in other parts of the world. And of course adjusting to the time zone, weather, food, yadda yadda yadda. Just takes us all awhile to get dialed in.
And it doesn't help when your pre-show routine is upset. I'm not superstitious, but I gotta follow my routine to get myself psyched up for the show. Dinner, my music, my warmups, my ginseng and tea and meditation... if I do them out of order or skip a step I just don't feel right, don't feel centered. My Chi is off, ha ha.
That's what happened last night. The logistics of Europe are always a challenge, and with it being our first show back after a few weeks off the whole crew is a little discombobulated. Half Richie's wardrobe was missing (Abby found it right before encore), and the little homey niceties Dawn usually does weren't quite in place.
She even forgot my fortune cookie last night. Of course I gave her shit about that, but I was just teasing. She's been with me long enough that she told me to get over it and pull up my Big-Boy pants and get my ass out onstage, ha ha. But she promised she'll have my "damned cookies" for Dresden. I told her I better get TWO damned cookies Friday night, to make up for the oversight, ha ha.
Thank God for that woman. My Road Wife. Cate often says Dawn has the worst job on the crew, having to deal with me. She's probably right. Dawn ends up being more my Mama than my assistant most of the time. A Saint, she is. I'm damned lucky to have her.
Aha... some loud jackasses are out in the hall, causing a disturbance and pounding on my door. Sound suspiciously like PK, Bryan, and Sambora. Better look out the peephole before I open up. Never know what may be lying in wait for the Lead Singer out there.
Maybe I'll send Russell out first, just to see what happens.
Suite
That felt fuckin' GREAT.
He's Back.
3:15 pm
Suite
Getting ready to head to Dresden, waiting for the Saddle-Up call to head to the plane.
Watching Today Show on the Internet. There's My Girl Savannah, her first day on the job as co-anchor in the 9:00 hour. And she's with Natalie Morales. Now there's a sandwich I wouldn't mind being the filling in, heh heh. Lucky Bastard, that Al Roker.
Gonna miss Meredith, but sometimes change is good. It ain't gonna be the same for sure; Matt and Meredith had such great chemistry. But Ann will do well as co-anchor too. And if it made way for Savannah... Well, I'm good with that.
Cate's already texted me about this, ha ha. Asked if Savannah's moved up a notch on my "free pass" list yet. Silly Wife. Not that she'd ever let me USE one of those free passes. Besides, Savannah could probably hurt me. She's an Amazon. Ha ha. Then again, Cate can hurt me too, and she's littler than I am.
Didn't think I'd say this, but feels good to be back in the routine. Great energy last night, a damned fun time up on that stage. Felt so good to have Richie back. And the love he got from that crowd -- Fantastic. I know he was truly touched. We still have a little rust to shake off, not everything went quite as planned. But we'll get there. A couple more shows under our belt and we'll be back in the groove.
I think we were all a little off last night. Takes awhile to get used to being outside again, back on that big-ass stage. Plus playing European stadiums is a lot different from big venues in other parts of the world. And of course adjusting to the time zone, weather, food, yadda yadda yadda. Just takes us all awhile to get dialed in.
And it doesn't help when your pre-show routine is upset. I'm not superstitious, but I gotta follow my routine to get myself psyched up for the show. Dinner, my music, my warmups, my ginseng and tea and meditation... if I do them out of order or skip a step I just don't feel right, don't feel centered. My Chi is off, ha ha.
That's what happened last night. The logistics of Europe are always a challenge, and with it being our first show back after a few weeks off the whole crew is a little discombobulated. Half Richie's wardrobe was missing (Abby found it right before encore), and the little homey niceties Dawn usually does weren't quite in place.
She even forgot my fortune cookie last night. Of course I gave her shit about that, but I was just teasing. She's been with me long enough that she told me to get over it and pull up my Big-Boy pants and get my ass out onstage, ha ha. But she promised she'll have my "damned cookies" for Dresden. I told her I better get TWO damned cookies Friday night, to make up for the oversight, ha ha.
Thank God for that woman. My Road Wife. Cate often says Dawn has the worst job on the crew, having to deal with me. She's probably right. Dawn ends up being more my Mama than my assistant most of the time. A Saint, she is. I'm damned lucky to have her.
Aha... some loud jackasses are out in the hall, causing a disturbance and pounding on my door. Sound suspiciously like PK, Bryan, and Sambora. Better look out the peephole before I open up. Never know what may be lying in wait for the Lead Singer out there.
Maybe I'll send Russell out first, just to see what happens.
Wednesday, June 8
5:45 pm
Dressing Room
Trying to get myself psyched up.
First show of the last leg. Back in the stadiums. Crazy European crowds.
Gonna need their energy to get me up for this one. Still jetlagged, back's still sore, bones are still creaky, and I miss my family like crazy.
Good thing I have Russell here to keep me company, ha ha.
Just finished press, had to grin and bear it through another endless round of camera flashes in my face and inane questions. God, I hate that part. But we gotta do it. It's good for business.
Richie was of course the focus of most of the questions. And he was in his normal laid-back form. Wish I could learn to handle this press stuff like he does. No matter how personal or in-your-face the question, he just let things roll off his back, gives that little shrug and smile and "Hey, Man..." drawl with his answer.
Guess I'm not built that way. Cate always tells me I need to smile more, stop looking so serious. Actually I think the word she used was "pissy", ha ha. I know she's right, but it's hard to remember.
Speaking of Cate, didn't get to talk to her much last night. She worked late then went to work out, called me when she was in the cab from office to gym. She started some new exercise class and didn't want to be late. I'm glad she's keeping busy while I'm gone, but the selfish part of me just wanted her to go home and sit on the terrace and talk to me for an hour.
I did talk to the kids last night, though. Jake and Romey were at home with Momma, then I talked to Steph on her cell. She's down the Shore with her pals, in somebody's rented beach house for the week. She says she's not with Brendan, just a bunch of the girls. I was skeptical about that until she told me he's in the City, started some summer internship on Monday. Right after graduation, off to work.
Knew I liked that kid.
So I told Stephie to have fun and let me know what she's up to. Then I talked to Jesse for a little while. He was cramming for his exams, but he took a break. His last test is tomorrow then he's done for the summer too. He said he thinks he's doing pretty well on his finals, but time will tell.
And he did want to talk to me about something. My Dad-intuition was right. Things are going well with Bridget, it seems. She's down the Shore with Steph in the girl-house, but she agreed to go out with Jess Saturday night if he can talk his way out of his home detention. Hence his how's-it-going text to me, he was buttering me up because he wants me to put in a good word with Dorothea.
I'm kinda torn on that one. I went to bat for him with the Prom, big time. And he's technically still grounded until the middle of the month. But Jesse's been working his ass off studying for his finals, he's been keeping his mouth in check, and he was absolutely great last weekend with all the Steph-Madness going on.
But here's the kicker -- he wants to go out to Jersey and take Bridget out over there. Saturday night down the Shore. And believe me, D and I BOTH know what that means.
Can't say I really mind... after all, summer nights are for young romance, right? But not sure what Dorothea's gonna think. She made it pretty clear a couple months ago when we had our sit-down about our horny son that he's MY problem. And with me out of the country, not sure she's gonna relax on the tight-leash policy.
Gonna have to think on this one a little. I told Jess I'd call him back after the show tonight and we'll talk about it a little more. At minimum I'm gonna need details of how he's gonna get out to Jersey, what he's gonna do about curfew, what he's willing to do for Momma in return.
But gotta admit, I wanna help the Kid out. The way he's acting about this Bridget girl -- it's different than the others he's told me about. There's real emotion there. A serious crush. More than him just wanting to get in her pants.
Apparently we Bongiovi boys have a weakness for redheads, ha ha.
There's the dinner bell -- gotta go get something to eat so it can settle before I gotta shake my ass all over that gigantic stage. And I gotta take a picture to send to Romey. He said Russell texted him (apparently the weasel figured out how to use my iPhone) and said he wants steak for dinner. So I have to send a photo of Russell at the buffet.
That ferret's getting a Rock Star Ego and it's only the first damned stop on the tour.
Dressing Room
Trying to get myself psyched up.
First show of the last leg. Back in the stadiums. Crazy European crowds.
Gonna need their energy to get me up for this one. Still jetlagged, back's still sore, bones are still creaky, and I miss my family like crazy.
Good thing I have Russell here to keep me company, ha ha.
Just finished press, had to grin and bear it through another endless round of camera flashes in my face and inane questions. God, I hate that part. But we gotta do it. It's good for business.
Richie was of course the focus of most of the questions. And he was in his normal laid-back form. Wish I could learn to handle this press stuff like he does. No matter how personal or in-your-face the question, he just let things roll off his back, gives that little shrug and smile and "Hey, Man..." drawl with his answer.
Guess I'm not built that way. Cate always tells me I need to smile more, stop looking so serious. Actually I think the word she used was "pissy", ha ha. I know she's right, but it's hard to remember.
Speaking of Cate, didn't get to talk to her much last night. She worked late then went to work out, called me when she was in the cab from office to gym. She started some new exercise class and didn't want to be late. I'm glad she's keeping busy while I'm gone, but the selfish part of me just wanted her to go home and sit on the terrace and talk to me for an hour.
I did talk to the kids last night, though. Jake and Romey were at home with Momma, then I talked to Steph on her cell. She's down the Shore with her pals, in somebody's rented beach house for the week. She says she's not with Brendan, just a bunch of the girls. I was skeptical about that until she told me he's in the City, started some summer internship on Monday. Right after graduation, off to work.
Knew I liked that kid.
So I told Stephie to have fun and let me know what she's up to. Then I talked to Jesse for a little while. He was cramming for his exams, but he took a break. His last test is tomorrow then he's done for the summer too. He said he thinks he's doing pretty well on his finals, but time will tell.
And he did want to talk to me about something. My Dad-intuition was right. Things are going well with Bridget, it seems. She's down the Shore with Steph in the girl-house, but she agreed to go out with Jess Saturday night if he can talk his way out of his home detention. Hence his how's-it-going text to me, he was buttering me up because he wants me to put in a good word with Dorothea.
I'm kinda torn on that one. I went to bat for him with the Prom, big time. And he's technically still grounded until the middle of the month. But Jesse's been working his ass off studying for his finals, he's been keeping his mouth in check, and he was absolutely great last weekend with all the Steph-Madness going on.
But here's the kicker -- he wants to go out to Jersey and take Bridget out over there. Saturday night down the Shore. And believe me, D and I BOTH know what that means.
Can't say I really mind... after all, summer nights are for young romance, right? But not sure what Dorothea's gonna think. She made it pretty clear a couple months ago when we had our sit-down about our horny son that he's MY problem. And with me out of the country, not sure she's gonna relax on the tight-leash policy.
Gonna have to think on this one a little. I told Jess I'd call him back after the show tonight and we'll talk about it a little more. At minimum I'm gonna need details of how he's gonna get out to Jersey, what he's gonna do about curfew, what he's willing to do for Momma in return.
But gotta admit, I wanna help the Kid out. The way he's acting about this Bridget girl -- it's different than the others he's told me about. There's real emotion there. A serious crush. More than him just wanting to get in her pants.
Apparently we Bongiovi boys have a weakness for redheads, ha ha.
There's the dinner bell -- gotta go get something to eat so it can settle before I gotta shake my ass all over that gigantic stage. And I gotta take a picture to send to Romey. He said Russell texted him (apparently the weasel figured out how to use my iPhone) and said he wants steak for dinner. So I have to send a photo of Russell at the buffet.
That ferret's getting a Rock Star Ego and it's only the first damned stop on the tour.
Tuesday, June 7
7:20 pm
Hotel
Getting ready to head out to dinner with the guys.
Went over to the venue today, stadium's looking good. I forgot how fucking big that stage is. Lotta room to run around on. Assuming I'll be able to run. It's a struggle just to walk, I'm so fucking tired.
Of course I didn't let that stop me from going to the gym. Just stuck to the elliptical and weights today. I'll do more tomorrow.
And my back's fucked again. Had Dean give me an adjustment, made a visit to the spa for a massage. Feels a little better but still stiff as Hell. Thank God for naproxen.
Richie's bouncing around like he's a Goddamned teenager. I'm glad he's feeling good, full of energy and zest for life, but... shut the hell up, ya Chipper Fuck. Let the grumpy old man creak along in peace, ha ha.
I talked to Romeo earlier today, called him before he left for school. Just him, not Jake or Jess or Steph or Mama. A special call for my Buddy. He sounded better, not so sad. Even when he told me he misses me and wants me to come home.
I told him Russell slept like a Baby Weasel last night, curled up in his super-soft pillow. In fact, he didn't want to get out of bed this morning and go to the gym. So he stayed in and had room service and watched the news while I went down to work out. Romey giggled at that idea. He asked me what Russell had for breakfast. When I told him eggs and fruit he reminded me that ferrets are carnivores so I have to be sure he gets chicken or steak for dinner.
Damned imaginary weasel's gonna double my room service bill, ha ha.
Anyway, it was a good call, got him off to a good start. D texted me later and told me he was fine, went off to his classroom without a care in the world. Thank God. I don't think I can go through another call like last night.
So Romey's Ferret-Pic of the Day was Russell sitting on the edge of the fountain out in the hotel courtyard. In other words, it was a photo of the fountain in the hotel courtyard. But I'm sure Romeo will see his little pal there and think it's great.
I can see it now, I'm gonna come home and have to look at a scrapbook of crappy iPhone pics of random things from my trip, none of which will depict an actual ferret, ha ha. But if it keeps my Buddy happy, that's fine by me.
Cate's having a crap day so I didn't get to talk to her much. She said she'll call me later when it's evening her time, which means about midnight-ish here. These fucking time zone differences suck. But at least it's not as bad as when we were Down Under before Christmas. I was way in the future then, ha ha.
And Jess texted me earlier just to say Hi. That usually means he has something to tell me. But he's in school now, so I'll catch up with him later. Wonder what it is?
A pair of giant feet with a Sambora attached just wandered into my room, so guess it's time to make like a tree and get the fuck outta here.....
Hotel
Getting ready to head out to dinner with the guys.
Went over to the venue today, stadium's looking good. I forgot how fucking big that stage is. Lotta room to run around on. Assuming I'll be able to run. It's a struggle just to walk, I'm so fucking tired.
Of course I didn't let that stop me from going to the gym. Just stuck to the elliptical and weights today. I'll do more tomorrow.
And my back's fucked again. Had Dean give me an adjustment, made a visit to the spa for a massage. Feels a little better but still stiff as Hell. Thank God for naproxen.
Richie's bouncing around like he's a Goddamned teenager. I'm glad he's feeling good, full of energy and zest for life, but... shut the hell up, ya Chipper Fuck. Let the grumpy old man creak along in peace, ha ha.
I talked to Romeo earlier today, called him before he left for school. Just him, not Jake or Jess or Steph or Mama. A special call for my Buddy. He sounded better, not so sad. Even when he told me he misses me and wants me to come home.
I told him Russell slept like a Baby Weasel last night, curled up in his super-soft pillow. In fact, he didn't want to get out of bed this morning and go to the gym. So he stayed in and had room service and watched the news while I went down to work out. Romey giggled at that idea. He asked me what Russell had for breakfast. When I told him eggs and fruit he reminded me that ferrets are carnivores so I have to be sure he gets chicken or steak for dinner.
Damned imaginary weasel's gonna double my room service bill, ha ha.
Anyway, it was a good call, got him off to a good start. D texted me later and told me he was fine, went off to his classroom without a care in the world. Thank God. I don't think I can go through another call like last night.
So Romey's Ferret-Pic of the Day was Russell sitting on the edge of the fountain out in the hotel courtyard. In other words, it was a photo of the fountain in the hotel courtyard. But I'm sure Romeo will see his little pal there and think it's great.
I can see it now, I'm gonna come home and have to look at a scrapbook of crappy iPhone pics of random things from my trip, none of which will depict an actual ferret, ha ha. But if it keeps my Buddy happy, that's fine by me.
Cate's having a crap day so I didn't get to talk to her much. She said she'll call me later when it's evening her time, which means about midnight-ish here. These fucking time zone differences suck. But at least it's not as bad as when we were Down Under before Christmas. I was way in the future then, ha ha.
And Jess texted me earlier just to say Hi. That usually means he has something to tell me. But he's in school now, so I'll catch up with him later. Wonder what it is?
A pair of giant feet with a Sambora attached just wandered into my room, so guess it's time to make like a tree and get the fuck outta here.....
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