Wednesday, February 29, 2012


So we're doing this event to get our Pres another 4 years. They put us up in this hotel on Park Avenue. Full on secret service, bags checked prior to entry. No rooms ready yet, but they are kind. Escort me to the library for breakfast which is $22 for eggs and bacon. I'm sitting next to a couple...the woman's body knocks. She has o be 60. She used to be pretty. The ring on her finger costs more than my 2 houses combined I'm sure of it. She and her husband identify another couple. My couple man: "hi, do you remember me?" Lady: me out. My couple man: we were on that cruise Lady: which cruise. Her husband then comes around the corner... Husband: heeeey, I remember you...on that cruise. Lady: was it Barcelona? My couple man: yes Barcelona! Lady: your body is a knock out! have you been on any cruises since then? My couple Lady: no, but we canceled one. Husband: do you remember how that boat wasn't Too not up to par? My couple Man: I do. Husband: do you remember the name of it? My couple man: it's that one sitting on its side in the middle of the ocean. Husband: exactly! They all chortle. Who talks like that?! Where the hell am I? New York City. Park Avenue. The 60's. Ew.

Thursday, February 9, 2012


There is something about this cold thing.  It's freezing outside and yet it happens to have been one of the most beautiful days of my life.  I've never seen actual water frozen over.  I think I saw ice in the Schuylkill during my official Dundee Philly days.  But nothing like people walking on ice and ice skating.  So amazingly fresh.  I want to go.  I turned into a giddy school girl over that shit.  I wanna go tomorrow but Lou says the ice sounded like it was cracking when he stepped on it and it freaked him out.  That would be a dumb ass way to go.  My family would be was she doing walking on water and shit.  Seriously?  So I walked on it.  And while it was exhillirating, it was still scary as fuck. I think this week I have been balls to the wall.  More aggressive than ever in exhibiting my needs.  And just as I thunk one could hang.  It's an amazing lump in my stomach.  Not being understood.  Having too much power and not enough.  Having too much access and not enough it does crazy things indeed.  Sometimes I don't know which way I'm going.  I'm sure if I married some older jewish guy he could help guide me...but would I be truly happy.  I don't know.  Again...the more I know life and circumstances, the more I miss my dog, and that's just the truth.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012


My bus driver is a chain smoker.  I've been on the bus once this entire time.  Tomorrows the last bus ride.  We almost caught a train but the last one left at 11 somethin'.   That would have been bomb to travel overnight through Switzerland.  I wish there was some food though.  I'm hungry.  And I know good and damn well there is no where to stop.  Sigh.  I will go to sleep hungry.  No one needs to eat this late no way.  That damn Chris Dave is the truth.  Seriously.  He's so on and in the pocket.  Our rhythm section is hot.  "Another Life" is arranged so beautifully.  And Pino tears it up start to finish.  Sucks I only have 1 more show.    I swear after I rest a bit - as we are all on fumes - I'll actually write something.

Monday, February 6, 2012


I'm so damn sleepy I can't sleep.  I have this jam session this weekend, I have a film to produce, I gotta pay rent and I still have to wash band clothes tomorrow.  I think I'm the only person who works during a supposed "retirement".  Such a fake out.  I'm worse than Jordan.

So Peter - one of my favorite promoters in the world, tells me tonight that i'm late on my blog.  How dare he.  Nice to know he cares.  I looked up tonight and realized that there are some truly beautiful people here in Oslo.  My production coordinator dude should be a model.  Seriously.  I'm like, stop sagging those damn genes blondy and be who the world wants you to be! On my coffee table!  Cutey patootey.  ANd Jesus was even there.  rocking it.  All fine and built and knowing the words and shit.  People were making out everywhere, standing ovations, the sound was crisp and clean.  It was a great show. 

I learned today to slow my roll on the anger thing though.  I spiral and it lasts for 3 days and then fucks everything up.  I gotta check that shit.  Getting on my own nerves. 

Okay but seriously?  Lobby call in 4 hours.  I gotta at least get some zzzzzzz.

Saturday, February 4, 2012


I was watching from the VIP bar.  It's nerve wracking getting an artist on stage.  Completely.  You gotta come up with tricks.  Tight or rubber pants work well.  One of my favorites.  It's even more complicated to move the rest of the group once their motivation is lost....or dragging.  Oh the dragging...why so much dragging?  All I can say is stage fright is real.  And why shouldn't it be?  All of us managers, agents, wardrobe stylists, runners...we people who stand on the sidelines and coach or cheer...we're behind a curtain.  Our life isn't on display out for all of the world to see.  It's awful.  It's scary.  I have nothing but empathy particularly since my black ass ain't out there.  Oh I sing a great background from behind monitor world....but don't be fooled.

And yet...the action at Brixton did not let us down.  There were some bootlegger issues but those quickly subsided...oh, and the Rastafarian who walked across the stage in the middle of the Shit, Damn solos....but he got escorted out.  Thanks to my new security guard I had the chance to hire.  I love security guards.  It's the one time I can talk crazy shit without possibly getting punched.  It's a rush.

We have been dealing with some young promoters who pretty much accomplished a great deal and took a great risk and that's awesome.  They showed the big guys out.  AEG, LIVE NATION...all of them will be sniffing behind us.

But alas......a new night and a new day..... time for me to wash bandanas and wife beaters.  Did I mention I love my job?


Thursday, February 2, 2012

Douchebags Anonymous

Dearest Douchebag Buster,

How does one decipher and breakdown a Douchebag?  ---

Douchebags are fairly easy to identify.  They usually have absolutely no affiliation with the group they are harboring and like to use fast talk to chime their way into the situation - i.e. backstage, breakfast, dressing rooms.  They come fully equipped with hot girls, usually with camera phones, some sort of quasi necklace/choker that went out with the term "MetroSexual", slightly ambiguously gay, and always have a penchant for knowing just about everything.  Oh and they chew gum a lot.
EVERYONE but EVERYONE is their "boy".  And they like to flash the dollars.  They point out specifics that only Douchebags would notice because they are always vying for a spot...anyones.  They play the Art of War pretty damn good with one exception.  They actually believe their hype.  They are habitual LIARS.  They believe they are smarter than everyone in the room.  This makes them treacherous.  As for the Douchebag in our group?  I'm coming for you.....