|Playing this afternoon at Toxic Shock records. Christ. It's about 95 degrees here & much hotter in the fucking record store, it's going to be a nightmare but oh Tucson is so nice. The little cybercafe I'm at serves booze,& Andy's gone to get me some Sherman's, & I'm sucking on a Tom Collins & life's a breeze.
Sorry my last entry was so bland. I was in such a foul mood... Our show at the Argo was good enough, though; we played well, and a few people seemed to enjoy themselves. There were a bunch of folks there, but I think they came for the $2.00 tap beers which were probably each about a six-pack in size....
Josh Robertson had told us that the trip from Denton to Tucson would take us 20 hours, and when I laughed in his face, he scowled & shook his head & said, "you'll see...." I think we made it in nine.
Last night we drove through a massive Texas storm, with lightning to the North, to the South, and far up ahead, shooting off like rockets. I nearly got whiplash & drove us into a ditch. In a valley to the South the rain was like a white wall, but we stayed relatively dry. It was so fucking gorgeous, we'd be buried in black clouds with the higher clouds lighting up like mad, & in the rearview mirror the sky was dark radiant blue as the sun set.... It makes Texas look pretty good. Seattle storms just don't match up.
Oh! that reminds me: I meant to talk about how fucking homesick I am. Actually, it's not so bad now that we've come so far west; but going across Georgia the other day, I wanted to be home and nowhere else. I wanted to concentrate on the countryside & on trying to find plantations & tin shacks, but I was gripped by a melancholy boredom. I'll get to see the mighty Pacific tomorrow -- or at least Los Angeles -- so I'm breathing easier now.
My cigarettes have arrived.
I also meant to talk about constipation. In Charleston I was talking to a guy named Alex & his girlfriend Kim, & they claimed that Seattle had the most suicides per capita of the US, & I claimed it was Wisconsin. They were thinking it was Seattle due to the grey weather, but Wisconsin due to the cheese, which leads to suicide-inducing depths of constipation. Sure! And this explains the ageless rock&roll fascination with suicide & stupid drug overdoses: when you're on the road, it's very difficult to eat anything more than a Wisconsin-level diet, & get stopped up for days! On this very trip, one of my cohorts couldn't take a reasonable crap for five days! That's almost a week! Not only does this sort of thing cause physical degeneration, it is very, very dispiriting. It makes it alot easier to understand these poor kids who throw it all away at such a young age.
I know I've got more things to say but I can't think of 'em. I'm hoping to see my former roommate Lulu, she lives in Tucson, she threw her life away to run off to the desert with some guy, & apparently it worked out okay. I left my fucking address book in Charleston, though, so my hands are tied.
Friday I get home and everyone buys me drinks.
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