Oh where oh where has my little band gone? I am lost, I am found, I'll be getting home on a geyhound. John Jughead Pierson reporting from NYC. I am only one block away from ground zero, and I have joined a highly mainstream fitness center called "Crunch". Down the block from Wallstreet. Here is a conversation I heard in the locker room between two chiseled businessmen in their underwear:
"Hey where's Bob?"
"Bob only works out on his lunch break every other day."
"I wonder what routine he's on."
"I banged his sister a couple of times last year without him knowing." (Laugh)
"That's cool, dude." (a slight envious snicker)
I had nothing to say. They weren't talking to me, plus I don't know Bob or his sister. And also I'm not sure what a "routine" is.
I miss my band. We have these long stretches of time where we don't see each other. Right now I am in NYC, Brad is on the road driving to Jersey City, Dan-e is at school in Detroit, Liz is working and trying to save money on "the southside!" in chicago, and Bice is driving cross country to visit his family in Idaho on his way to San Francisco.
We are all planning to get back together in June for a short short tour, (somewhere) and then we will be touring all of July, and then we are off to EUROPE in October!
Ya' know, I'm up late and I thought that that may cause me to write an interesting blagelty oggerdoo but this entry is boring me. Boring me. Boring me!
Sometimes when you are living an exciting life, the last thing you want to do is sit down and write about it. I would like to think that that is my current problem. If not, I must ask, "who stole the funny?"
Here is a question my friend had to answer in order to prepare for her oral class project this week. "How do you explain that Chekov is funny?" How do you even attempt to explain humor? I did not envy this challenge.
She also told me that her theater teacher said to her once while she was at the end of a rather physical solo piece "Now feel it in your cunt." I laughed, I laughed a double coincidence laugh. I had been trying to remember for awhile a comment an old hippie lady made to Liz after our first living room show. It was for a room full of senior citizen fag hags, fops, and a hand full of friends. It was so much fun, and extremely entertaining. Anyway, after the performance this old hippie lady approached Liz and said, "You are a great singer, I could feel it in my cunt." Liz, being a wonderful human being, burst out with a genuine laugh and gave the woman a hug. Now I have memories that allow me to laugh at hearing the word "cunt" instead of feeling like I have to lash out at some neanderthals while they are bragging about their conquests, or criticizing their targets sexual rejections.
If you are in NYC check out the new Too Much Light... cast in Brooklyn. You can find out about it on the www.neofuturists.org page. Look for the Brooklyn link.
Take care and see you all soon.