05-12-1997
New York City,
 
Oh, too much to catch up on. It's such a gorgeous morning here, but I was up too late & drank too much to feel as good about it as I should.

The last I wrote was before the show in Boston, railing about New England & the smart kids at MIT. Boston was our first show on the Pavement/Shudder to Think tour...

Christ, this is going to suck. I'm too hung over to make sense or remember anything. I had a dream last night that there was a horrendous storm in Seattle, I was in my cab & had been called to pick up an old man in a

wheelchair at a resort on Orcas Island, and my cab was falling apart, & in the midst of this horrendous storm these red & blue fish started falling from the sky, blowing up out of Puget Sound apparently. They'd lay on the ground & twist like a lazy cat, & each twist would flip them so their colors would shift from red to blue & vice versa.

I stayed with my friend Nancye on 21st street, & her friend Mark slept over as well. Nancye's daughter Fay was asleep when I showed up, & Mark was sacked out on the couch, so Nancye & I stayed up 'til all hours. We watched a Guns & Roses video, & were so inspired that we sought and found this remarkable hard-core pornography channel, showing genuine New Yorkers fucking on street corners, caught by a hidden camera. Nancye's boyfriend, Paul, was out of town, but I kept my cool, & slept in Fay's bed while she slept with her mom.

I am reminded, however, of a painful experience in Philadelphia. Philadelphia was a painful place. I broke my snare drum onstage, & quickly borrowed one from Kevin, Shudder to Think's drummer. The drum sounded like such dogshit that Tim was fit to burst after the show, because, y'know, I could've brought a spare snare, but I didn't think I'd need it & he just wanted to ripme a new asshole because that Shudder to Think drum sounded like such dogshit. So I felt bad & drank myself into a stupor, which made me susceptible to the heavy-handed come-ons of a gorgeous red-haired woman from Hungary. I should've known something was wrong, but who wants to worry when a lovely woman is holding your hand, reading your palm, looking in your eyes, making your heart beat fast, saying, "you vill tell me storees?" So of course I told her all my best stories, some stupid ones with strong romantic content, just to test the waters, & my stories were traded for kisses and I thought, well this is certainly a welcome little adventure. I heard someone ask her, "where is Paul?" but I forgot to ask who Paul was. She was talking to another guy (oh! To the singer for the Strapping Fieldhands, who had just played & who were wonderful), & I was feeling snubbed & said I was going to go & she looked at me deep & said, "stay." So what could I do? Soon I was sitting on the stage & she was leaning on my thigh, holding my hand, looking in my eyes, & Strapping Fieldhands guy came up. She hugged him & he said, "yeah she's a great gal. She's a great singer, too, a great torch singer. She's an inspiration. And she's married to one of my best friends."

I'm sure you can imagine my surprise. I said, "you're married? Yes. "And faithful to your husband?" Yes. Well my little heart just sank. I tried not to let it get to me & make me feel bad, but it was a little rough. I thanked Mr. Fieldhand, & walked back to Howard & Karen's, just down the street, where the rest of the band had long been asleep. Christ! I know I have a one-track mind & it can get the best of me, but, gosh!

Howard & Karen fed us a fine, simple breakfast, though, & I felt a whole lot better.

It's very nice to be touring with the Pavements again. They become more & more like the Grateful Dead as time goes by, & a guy in Boston with a big belly & a Dead shirt agreed with me: it's only a matter of time before the flower dancers come en masse & sell cheese sandwiches to the kids outside.

I've got to get out into the sun so I'm going to finish this. I have to say, though, that Evan fucking Dando was at the show last night, and I peed on his floor-length firemen's coat while he was waiting for Kim Gordon to get out of the bathroom, which took at least twenty minutes. Evan didn't feel a thing.

Okay, I'm distracted and I have things to do. If I forgot anything I'll try to take care of it next time.

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