Schio, Centro Stabile di Cultura
Schio... was a long time ago. But Schio is a nice little town, it seems like a rich town. The cops are young and they give you so much attitude - if they're staring into space and you say "excuse me" they'll tell you to wait until they're done staring, just to make you feel small. The club here is a noble instituion, it's sort of an artist's co-op/community center, the whole place is self-sufficient as far as I can tell with people selling clothes, great records, and other stuff, putting on performances & rock shows, it was a very nice place filled with very nice people, the kind of people that make you glad they exist and pray that they continue and thrive and produce children.

Before the show, Matt and Ago and I rocked out for a while - Matt on bass, Ago on Andy's strat, I on drums. Agostino is a bad motherfucker on guitar, let me tell you. He was on it. He was very good. We all tried to convince him that the three of us could be the opening act - mainly because we wanted to watch him play the guitar some more - but he'd have nothing to do with it.

The show was fine, sparsely attended. The folks there were attentive, and one guy even ran to the stage and began pounding Andy's shoes! Pounding them! Immediately one of the fine people grabbed his belt and yanked him back to earth. Matt talked to the pounder later on; it turns out he was upset because he knew the people there were enjoying the music but nobody was expressing it, so he of course ran to the stage and pounded Andy's shoes with the best intentions. Everyone made up, we all felt good, and later someone put on some odd gypsy music and we began to dance, Agostino especially danced, he danced blissfully with all of us and with a very drunk young woman, dancing jigs and polkas with a constant smile and a cigarette, it was such a display, it was inspiring! He danced and danced while Matt and I tried to keep up and failed, and we sad and watched him dip and drop the drunk girl over and over. It was too much, too much! It was a joy, and we were all also drunk and felt very good. We spent the night in a cute hotel on a small cute street across from a yellow church and a red flat-fronted house; I stayed in Tim and Vick's room so that Agostino could have his own, and snore.

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