March & April '06
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Old Shit
4/17/06
Just came from a meeting where the topic was forgiveness... nothing I ever gave much thought to. The fact is... in my mind there is only one person that has ever has ever wronged me... myself.
If you steal from me... it's MY fault for allowing you to... by being too trusting or too vulnerable. If you are my girlfriend and you cheated on me or broke my heart... it's MY fault because "I chose you" or "I should know better". Hell... it goes so far as if I hit too many red lights is a row... its my fault because I chose the wrong route. If you're my parents...uh.... well... I don't even want to go there.
How narcissistic and vain is that? To think that I'm responsible for all the bad in the world. It's all about me. Selfish, self centered alcoholic.
There's a lot of shitty things I've done to others throughout my life... things I might want forgiveness for if felt I deserved forgiveness. My self abuse issues run too deep right now to think I deserve anything.
Forgive myself? Forget about it. I've never even entertained the thought. I'll get there someday.
It's funny... every time I go to a meeting someone says something directly applicable to me or something that happened to me on that very day. It's usually so on the money that it seems somewhat magical. I've been finding alot of serenity at meetings lately... it gets me out of isolation that I seek and loneliness that I wallow in. I hope that I find some fellowship soon...
Recording is almost done... we're on to mixing. God... I love it so much.
I'm moving out of my place in a couple weeks... I've been remodeling Mom's basement for the past month to house my studio and a bed for me. The electrical, framing and drywall are done and tonight I was down there spraying some texture on the wall before I start priming and painting. That shit is so fucking toxic... I didn't realize is while I was down there spraying... there isn't really any ventilation down there and when I stopped and went upstairs... I was quite dizzy. Crap... I almost feel like I should have a new sobriety date.
Thanks for reading my gibberish y'all...
4/7/06
Wow... where the fuck was I?
Thank you all for the supportive emails and messages of encouragement. Things are looking hopeful for me... change is hard and I'm going through alot of it right now. So although I can't say that I'm doing really good... I can say that I'm doing exactly what I'm supposed to be doing right now. At this moment... I'm in a good place... I feel like I've been living in a washing machine stuck on the spin cycle but thankfully someone added some fabric softener so I'm a little more comfortable in my own skin. I've felt a little lonely at times but I'm trying not to isolate. Just gotta trust this process, and clean house. I've been extremely emotional over this past week... which is good for me. I've gone my whole life not allowing myself to feel and through all this I've had some sort of spiritual awakening and it's really tipping me off balance... or maybe it's that I'm finally getting my balance... hmmmm. I don't know shit.
The Floater record is almost done... we're in the last phase of tracking. Just a few percussion overdubs and miscellaneous effects then it's on to mixing and mastering. This recording process hasn't been without it's own drama... at times it's seemed like giving birth... only the baby's coming out breech. I've never been involved in a recording project that hasn't had some drama at some point... my own music or others.
I'm so amazed at some of the sounds we're getting... this thing is gonna sound so good. At fist I was worried we were gonna get all kinds of standing or summed waves and phasing problems cuz my tracking room is a box and in a box it's pretty inevitable that those issues are gonna pop up. But it sounds pretty damn good... mind you we didn't do alot of room miking... but still... the drum sounds alone stoke me beyond belief. The songs are good and we've had enough time to capture the best performances out of everyone. It's not my record but I'm really proud of it already. I hope you all buy it if for no other reason than to hear my first shot at producing. But I'd rather you buy it cuz you trust me when I tell you it's good.
My dog has developed a really bad gas problem. Can you give a rottweiler Beano? He just lies around the house torturing me with his foul ass. I'm not feeding him anything different... it wakes me up in the middle of the night sometimes. So does his snoring though. My dog Bo has been a tremendous source of comfort for me lately even though his butt makes my eyes burn.
Postboard bully Nelson came up to Portland and hung out with me for the evening a couple weeks ago. He's a nice guy and all... but I kept catching him checking out my package... and he kept making comments about what a great kisser he was... hmmm.... I wonder what all that was about. It was while his wife was away. I think he rubbed one out in my bathroom.
Anyway... thanks again everyone for the thoughtful mail and the T-shirt purchases. A couple of you have sent me photos of you in your shirts... thanks. Bamooki... you look hot in yours lemme tell ya.
I'm out for now... I'm fine... I'm living.
3/19/06
Back in November I was at 1 year and ten months of sobriety. A mighty feat for me. It felt so good to have that time behind me… it was a legitimate possession.
But at the time I was pretty unhappy… unhappy with two big things in my life. Number one… my job. When I was in LA building the Foo studio I was very challenged and a reasonably important person… I had a say in what was going on… how things got built… who got to be involved… and not to toot my own horn, but damn it, I did a great job. I put together a great team of people to get it done. Coming in to it like I did it was brutally stressful… once the gears were turning and having to learn about everything immediately… managing 5 or 6 sub contractors… I’ve never done anything like that before. It was highly rewarding on a personal level. Yes… at the time, I was overworked and overwhelmed, but I felt I had earned something then. The trust and respect of my Foo family. From Grohl himself to management to crew. It felt good to rise above the dishwasher status that tends to stick to a roadie. Once people get to know you as one thing… a dishwasher… it’s hard for them to accept you as a doctor. Whether or not you’ve earned the title or not. After the record was out and the touring preparation started up. I felt like the rug was yanked right out from under me. I didn’t seem to have a say in anything anymore besides what strings to buy. I tried my heart out to stay involved but just ended up offending people. So I backed off… shut up… and did my guitar tech job. A little gun shy of everything that was going on and frankly, a little resentful. But hell, who was I to be resentful… I had a great job. Working for my favorite band and good friends. Nevertheless… the feeling was there. So I kept my head down and just did my job… trying not to step on anyone’s toes by wandering outside my job description. The machine had gotten so huge. A touring group of eighty people… wow. It was easy to feel small. Opportunities like live recording and video documentation were being given to other roadies… things that would’ve helped make things interesting for me… kept me busy… challenged me… my resentment grew. I didn’t like some of the new hiring personnel decisions. I don’t care how qualified a person is… you can’t hire qualifications… you have to hire roommates. People have to live together in a small metal tube with wheels. Anyway… like I said… I just wasn’t that happy. I felt like my family was being torn apart. The place that once felt like I was meant for seemed to big for me now.
Problem number two… the girl that I was dating at the time was a fucking lush. I have to admit though… it was part of the reason I was so attracted to her. I could stay sober myself and still keep one foot in the drug and alcohol world. She was hot and drunk… what more could a guy ask for right? Well, the more I got to know her… the more I wanted love and intimacy. I wanted someone to understand me and the strife I live in. someone to be close to. The problem is… that as soon as she started doing drugs or drinking… I ended up alone. Usually I would end up taking care of her. She would get blackout drunk quite often. But I found myself in love with her… pathetically. I didn’t ask of her to choose my lifestyle of sobriety although my chosen lifestyle seemed to be providing it’s own road blocks. I ended up being a mirror for her that reflected something she didn’t like to see. But regardless of the problems we had, I always looked forward to the breaks in-between tours so as to spend time with her and also I flew her all over the country to spend time with me as often as I could. But in November I was coming off a long Euro tour and was feeling pretty depressed. I really wanted to come home and be close to my girl. Not just fuck… I felt like I really needed to talk to her and share how I was feeling and shit like that but knew that at that time she had been on quite a bender and doing coke and I was gonna come home and we’d be on completely different levels… and I was right. I got home after the Portugal MTV Euro awards thingy and she had been raging for the past several days… she was never very forthcoming with specifics… partly cuz of felling guilty (the mirror thing) and partly cuz she didn’t remember. I was feeling so desperate for intimacy that I mentally masturbated myself into a corner. I figured if I just partied with her one night… we could be on the same level… I wanted the night off… to get fucked up with my girl and have a good time then jump right back on the wagon and forget it ever happened. I know it doesn’t work that way but my mind and my heart were playing tricks on me. I knew I couldn’t drink… it’s too available in my life… around me all the time… legal… if I drank… it would be the end of me for sure. She liked the nose candy also… I figured I don’t really have access to this crap and I really don’t even like it anymore… so there it was… I do some lines with her and blow off some steam. We’d do some lines, have fun together and it would be back to the righteous path tomorrow. So she called her dealer and he came by and dropped off an 8 ball… We did some lines. After a couple hours she wanted to get in the Jacuzzi. So we wandered out back and hopped in. We were in the tub for about 5 minutes and started fooling around. She was sitting in my lap and we were kissing.
Her head snapped back and her body shot into a straight out rigid board. She was convulsing…eyes rolled back in her head… making choking sounds. I tried to stay calm. I lifted her out of the tub and placed her on a towel on the ground. Whatever was going on… it was preventing her from breathing so I tried to blow some air in her lungs. To no avail. I was so gripped… I felt completely helpless. She stayed in this state for at least 5 or 8 minutes… then the worst thing that could ever happen… happened.
Her body went limp and she exhaled a long sigh that seemed to go on forever. It wasn’t followed by an inhale. Panic shot through me… I lost my mind just then. I checked her pulse and listened for a heartbeat… nothing. I started what I could remember of CPR… It had been about 10 years since my last CPR class. I was so past terror… I was having mind movies playing about how I was going to tell her parents and friends that she was dead. But I stayed on the compressions and the breathing for what felt like an eternity. I screamed at the top of my lungs to my next door neighbor who also happens to be my Mother to call 911…CALL 911. I was calm and focused and lost in fear and shame. I didn’t care about anything except her living.
Her body jerked violently and she shot upright, loudly inhaling a breath as long as her dying exhale. It was like she’d been holding her breath for 5 minutes and finally came up for air. I asked her what her name was, did she know where she was… shit like that. She answered in gibberish. I carried her inside, dressed her, and wrapped her in a blanket. She slowly came back to coherence. With no memory of what just took place. The paramedics, fire department and police showed up and I hid nothing from them. I told them yes… cocaine was involved… I just wanted her to be OK. I didn’t care about anything else. The paramedics took her to the hospital. The cops searched my place but they didn’t need to… I gave them the leftover 8 ball. I also told them exactly what happened... and of my long sobriety that I wrecked this awful evening. I’m not sure if they believed it or not but they corroborated my story with my mother. Filled with self hate and shame was I. A piece of me wanted them to take me to jail and kick my ass all along the way. Instead of that they gave me a felony possession ticket and a lecture then left me in my turned over house. Mom drove me to the hospital to pick up the luckiest girl in the world. On the drive there I thanked her for her calm and apologized for once again putting her through my chaos. Yes… I’ve put her through some shit in my lifetime.
Now I could point the finger at alot of things... unhappy with my job... unhappy with my girlfriend... I had no pressure relief valve... I didn't smoke, drink, do drugs... hell... for awhile I wasn't even eating.... and they all have they're place in the circumstances but Even with a good support system surrounding me... my mother and good supportive friends that are sober that understand how hard it can be sometimes... I didn't choose to call them in my moment of weakness... MY CHOICE. Lame.
Seeing her in the hospital was pretty hard for us… she was so embarrassed. Which kinda pissed me off. Fuck embarrassment… there’s a lot more she should’ve been feeling. But for her… the event didn’t happen. She didn’t remember a thing.
So for the past few months I’ve been going through some shit. Legal shit, money shit, emotional shit and sobriety shit.
This event has the potential to fuck up my career. A felony would prevent me from traveling to Canada, Australia, and who knows where else. Since I’ve never been arrested before I’m eligible for a program called Stop. It kind of like the diversion program for DUI’s. Basically I plead guilty and enter a court mandated treatment program and also do piss tests and make periodic court appearances for up to a year… then go back to the judge upon successful completion and he dismisses the charges. This deal with the DA happens any day now. I don’t really fit in to the courts program though. Most of the people that are charged with this kind of crime don’t have good jobs or are useful members of society… the later is debatable for me. I just hope that this stop program will be slightly flexible with my job and my traveling.
In the months following that awful November day became harder and harder for my girlfriend and I. I had to see a therapist for awhile due to what he called a “severe case of post traumatic stress disorder”. For two months… I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes I saw all the gruesome imagery of that night. When she and I slept together any little twitch or sound she made in her sleep would spin in into a panic attack. There was no sleeping in the cards for me. Our relationship became harder and harder because of what I was going through and the guilt she felt for it.
I never blamed her for anything. I made my own bad choices that evening. I spiraled into a lot of self abusive behavior… No drugs or drinking though. The one thing that the event did do is that it reaffirmed my sobriety choice with a very large exclamation mark.
About three weeks ago I started my court mandated treatment program. It’s like a cross between an AA meeting and group therapy except that it’s four thousand bucks for three months. I have to go to these meetings on Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday from 9pm to noon. It’s not very close to me. It takes about half an hour each way. I hate it. But I also love it. I’m not sure I can explain it. Maybe it’s for a later post. I supposed to go to regular AA meetings on the days that I don’t go to the treatment center. All that time in addition to at least 8 to 10 hours a day recording… remodeling my moms basement… Jack’s party… moving out of my house… personal shit like laundry, car maintenance, bills, taxes, weddings, birthdays, mailing T-shirts, these fucking posts, shopping, and whatever just didn’t leave a lot of time for the girlfriend and when I did have time for her I just wasn’t that much fun. I realized that I was carrying around a bunch of resentment for her… but not for what you’d think. My first day in the treatment program I was angry at the irony that I had been walking the righteous path of sobriety for two years and even after dying she was still in full denial and drinking even more than before. She should be sitting in the seat I was in treatment. I don’t know if she was still doing coke. If she was doing coke she was lying to me about it. I was resentful that I ended up with ALL the consequences from the bad night… . I got the legal crap that could potentially ruin my career… I got the court mandated treatment program and all the costs associated… lawyer, treatment fees, and court fines… I got the stress disorder… and most of all I have the crappy…all she ended up with was just two lame consequences… embarrassment and guilt. She didn’t even have the memory to share with me.
The less time I had for her the more time she spent with her ex-boyfriend which pushed all my jealousy buttons… I’m not a jealous guy either. My spidey sense was off the scale. She assured me that they were just good friends.
About a week and a half ago I finally got a confession out of her that she had made out with the ex and she wanted to give it another shot with him.
Well I don’t have to write how that made me feel. I moved all my shit out of her house immediately.
So here I am… chewed up and spit out.
My current and future employers could read this… hell, the DA or the cops could read this… I’ve told this story to a few select close friends because I needed to… it’s a big thing to live with. Especially since the girl didn’t want anyone to know at all… It’s much easier for her to hide in the bottle and pretend it didn’t happen.
The thing about honesty is… it keeps you honest. With yourself especially. That’s where I’m at in my life… I don’t want to lie or keep secrets anymore. It’s too much work. If I get fired over this post or someone wants to use it against me in some way… so be it.
I made some really bad choices and mistakes… sue me. I learned from all of them and although it’s killing me now… I’ll be a better man because of them.
I can be around booze and drugs all day long on tour and not want them. I’m busy out there… I’m a professional… kinda. At home I can go to the bar, play pool and not want to drink. But the second I’m alone or Idle… and feelings or anxieties start to bubble up I want to run. I’m no good at feeling. Never have been. That’s why I’m good at my job… in times of extreme chaos and stress I can stay really calm and focused not feeling a thing. So even in my sobriety I surround myself with distractions from feeling. If I get anxious at home I’ve got a hot rod to tinker on, a recording studio to turn knobs in, a dog to take care of, a web site to upkeep, instruments to play, skateboarding, golf, sex, fucking whatever… even my job is a diversion from feeling. I’m a mess. I’m not gonna bore you with all my lamenesses… I pay a therapist for that.
The point is that my triggers for drugs and alcohol are emotionally related. I suck at feeling. I use to be proud of it… Mr. Even Keel… no drama in my life I’d say.
Reading this might be a mirror for some of you with drug and alcohol problems… “I can quit if I want to” you might say. Well could you quit if you didn’t want to? One is too much and a thousand isn’t enough.
Man I love partying… it just doesn’t love me. I could tell you lots of great stories… but that’s all they’d be is stories.
I’m not a god guy… agnostic would probably describe me best. But it sure seems like divine intervention that such a little slip by me gets such a huge cock punch. I’m thankful that she lived… and I’m thankful that I got a chance to reaffirm why I choose sobriety.
I hope that it all works out for me… That I get through this year of legal bullshit… and that I find a way to pay for it all… and that I don’t lose my job. And even though I’m angry… I hope it all works out for the ex-girlfriend… that she gets a hold of her life before it kills her…. Again…. And that she keeps her house and friends and job and finds love in all the right places. But right now… fuck you… for being so self centered and weak and scared.
I’m sorry to all of those people that are close to me that are learning of this just now through this post… I wanted to tell you all in person one at a time but it’s all just too big for me. I needed to come clean with the world. I'm sorry to my family and friends and employers for the pain and trouble this has caused and may cause down the road.
I AM AN ALCOHOLIC DRUG ADDICT... and it is a physiological disease that will affect me for the rest of my life even if I never drink or do drugs again... ever.
I'm sure there are people that have it way worse than I do but that knowledge doesn't seem to give me much solace right now... I am so angry with myself for knowing better... my self esteem is through the floor... but being able to get this out lets me start getting better and working on things that help me make better choices in life. This is the second time in ten years that I've killed a considerable time of sobriety over a girl. God dammit ... I'm a sucker.
I'm probably alienating the people that visit and revisit this site seeking Foo and D gossip. This website has been a blessing for me in many ways... It has enabled me to get alot of feelings and thoughts out to the world. It's original purpose... to promote my music... has fallen my the wayside. Instead it's where I bitch and moan and whine about my great life. It's where I can keep myself honest...
I you feel you have to respond to this… fine respond. But I don’t want advice and I don’t want sympathy and I don’t want your guilt or personal denials of your own problems. If this post brings up feelings for you... good... feel them... don't do what I do.
Sorry peeps... there are no pictures with this post... if there were, they'd cause nightmares.
(Nelson... please kick me in the nuts)
3/16/06
I am spread so thin these days... Last week I was supposed to fly down to LA to help put some backline gear together and baby-sit it at this little club in Silver Lake called El Cid for Jack Black's wedding party. Yes... he got married to the lovely Tanya Haden... Daughter of the famous jazz bassist Charlie Haden. They eloped and this party was to be a sort of reception for all their family and friends. I got a call on Tuesday from Good friend and tour manager Ben saying that the event guest list had blossomed from 150 to 350 people and that they had to move venues. The new venue was a photo studio / movie set on La Brea called the Miauhaus. Basically a big empty warehouse with no stage, no PA, no lights, ... no nuthin. I had three days to figure out stage, sound, lights, video projection and backline from Portland without ever having seen the room. I started to wind up a little... but just a little. I kinda felt bad for Floater... the band I'm recording now... cuz I was on the phone alot that week... during their recording time. But they were OK with it... good guys. I flew down to LA on Friday and went straight to the venue for the stage load in... sound in, lights in, and piano. There were to be 5 acts the next day. All Jack and Tanya's family members... with the magnificent Charlie Haden headlining the evening. On Saturday... Party day... the piles of backline rolled in at about noon and my afternoon was spent chasing a damn video projector in the valley. Soundchecks started at 6pm for those that wanted them. Guests started getting to the hoedown at about 8pm... and thank god... everything was up and running by then. The show started at 9pm with Jack and Tanya doing a puppet show for everyone that transitioned into a video slide show that was hilarious... after that it was on to the music... first up was some middle eastern music and dance... then on to sister Rachel... then on to a Haden lad and his band (it was really good.)... then the three Haden sisters singing with their father playing bass (this was really awesome... my favorite.)... then papa Haden and his band shredding some tasty jazz... I was kinda pissed that most of the crowd started talking and being loud during his set... fucking rude. What ya gonna do though... it's upitty jazz that for most is an acquired taste. I loved it. In between bands and afterwards, that one dude from Faith No More... Key dude I think... was DJ-ing with some mad classic jams. The party went till two am then load out ensued for me and my crew... we knocked it out pretty quickly... we had the place completely empty by about 4:30 AM. What a relief it was to have that behind me. On Sunday I checked out of the hotel and returned video shit and flew home... right back to recording and my other obligations that I'll write about in a few days... I've got a big heavy post coming up soon but it's kind of a big deal so I need to take my time with it.
Here's some photos of the party... I didn't have time to take many.
I never say thanks to all of you that visit my website... so thank you all for reading my bullshit stories and sending me mail... it's what keeps me doing it. I haven't had alot of time lately to write back to most of you... soon I swear. Also thank you to the pile of you that bought T-shirts from me in the past couple weeks... I've really needed the dough. I hope you guys like the cotton.
For the rest of y'all buy some fucking shirts from me!!!
See ya bitches.
3/1/06
Well well well... Hello all... it's time for a little BB update.
I've been such a busy little bastard... After getting well about the middle of the month, I began recording Floater. I can't even begin to describe to y'all how happy I've been doing this. I look forward to it every day. My studio is functioning perfectly and it sounds like a million bucks. I get to be a part of the creative process from a different place than I usually do when writing my own music. I love it... I feel like I get to help the band that's in here, zero in on the best of their creativity and provide an impartial ear to help find what's best for the song that we might be working on. Feedback and criticism can be a tricky thing though when dealing with what someone considers their "art". It's easy to hurt feelings and step on toes... So tact and grace goes a long way in helping someone arrange a song or create their part. No matter how much I contribute... the song or the part of the song needs to come from "the artist". I dunno... I just love it... and immediately feel right at home in the hotseat. This is it people... this is what I'm doing with the rest of my life. Producing bands and running my studio... Bliss. My back is sore, my eyes burn, and my ears are tired from sitting at the pro tools rig all day and night for the past two weeks but it's so nice to fell excited and passionate about something again. It's been awhile... at least since go cart racing in Germany... But I don't think I can make much of a career in go cart racing in Germany plus I don't like sauerkraut. We've just finished tracking drums and are moving on to bass... then guitar... overdubs... and vocals... it'll probably be another month of tracking. 21 so far at this point that we'll have to narrow down to 13 or so that'll make the record. This will be Floater's 7th record. They've done pretty well for a regional band... they're most popular record has sold about 25000 copies to date... which is nothing to shake a stick at. (WTF does that mean anyway... I've always wondered... hmmm... stick shaking.). This record is gonna be so fucking awesome... you fuckers better buy a copy when it's released... these guys are good... and the songs for this new record will fuck your fanny hard... and there is nothin bad about a little butt fuckin. Plus there'll be a little BB in there so it'll be like me doin' your pooper.
Here are some shots of my control room... which is a spare bedroom in my house. I've been collecting this gear for years... and never have been able to put it together and make it all work together until now... y'all have no idea how satisfying this is to me.
Since there'll be no Foo touring for awhile... June I think... All of you that have been pestering me for BB shirts can finally get them as I'll be home for quite awhile and can send them to you. Just paypal me 14 bucks plus shipping and I'll send you a shirt. How much is shipping you ask? Well it depends where you live. So since I don't have a fancy e-commerce cart oriented interface... we'll actually have to do this the old fashioned way and actually communicate. You email me at bbandhisfob@yahoo.com with the the style of shirt you want, what size you want it in and where I need to send it. I'll then email you back with a shipping cost and confirmation that I haven't run out your size or something dumb like that. At this point you'll paypal me some much needed and deserved dough, kipe, lettuce, greenbacks, the big mazoo, duckets, dinero, shitters, or just good old fashioned US currency. Even though US currency isn't very valuable any more... I still want it. You'll paypal the bbandhisfob@yahoo.com email address... and the money will make it to me... then the kickass and very fashionable BB shirt will make it's way to you... those of you that are pleasant about the transaction just might get a special extra surprise in your package.
Once again here's what the T-shirts look like...
and here are how boobs look in the girl shirts...
Nice.
2/9/06
Well shit... the Hamburg Show kicked ass... so many hotties in the crowd.
The boys had some interviews during the day which is pretty commonplace... The next day a select few of us were to do an Oslo TV show with the band. We were supposed to stay behind and ride a charter plane up to Norway... The show got cancelled but everything was already paid for so thankfully some of us still got to fly... only to Sweden instead of Norway now.
It was real nice to sleep in the next day in the cushy hotel bed. The flight was nice as well... not as nice as some of their other charters but still pretty sweet.
It was snowing in Stockholm when we landed... B.A.C. (bite ass cold). Straight to the hotel and I went straight to the gym. Worked out for about an hour... then back up to my room. It hit me like a ton of bricks... I felt dizzy and sore... everything was swimmy... you know when you turn your head and everything kind of has to catch up... I dunno... I felt awful. My throat was burning and I had a fever that wouldn't quit. I turned up the heat in my room and climbed under the covers and shivered all night. I got a little scared at one point... I thought I was gonna have to call an ambulance. I got up to pee but couldn't keep my balance... I think I fainted but caught myself. It was so awful.
The next day wasn't any better... same shit only worse... The important people didn't want me anywhere near the band so I got sent back to the hotel room. So sorry kids... no pics of the gig... and no words about it either... I wasn't there.
My flight home from Sweden was kinda like torture. I thought I would die. I'm sure the people around me were quite nervous about my state.
Well, I've been home in bed for a few days now and starting to feel a little better. No fever at least... that's really all I care about. I hate finishing a tour that way... Oh well.
No Foo gigs for awhile. My immediate future is all about recording a pretty big Northwest band called Floater here at my recording studio in Portland. Down the road who knows... I'll keep posting occasionally with trite personal adventures that I'm sure no one really cares about. Maybe I'll get Nelson to "guest post" about his band Soapbox's rise to power in small town Corvallis. Yeah.. then again...
Bye
2/2/06
Brussels show was OK... punching the clock as they say.
Most of the crew headed off to Amsterdam after the show while a few of us stayed behind for a TV show the next day...
TV show went well... We played with the stinky cheese that they got the band for their dressing room. It was really really....well... er... stinky. Some of it was so over the top gross out bad that they had to remove the cheese from the dressing room cuz it was unbearably smelly. But it never really went away.
They asked Dave about Kurt and Nirvana stuff during his interview... for some reason I always hold my breath whenever the subject comes up.. in any situation. Dave's answers were heartfelt, eloquent, and tactful... It was actually nice to hear an relaxed conversation about it all. The interview was really good. The performance was good too. Best of you... seamless.
We headed off to Amsterdam right after the TV show... Arrived at about midnight. I went out for a walk down to Canal street to see who I could bust being naughty... Ran into a few members of our entourage with funny looks in their eyes... but not to crippled. Took a couple of laps around town... got my fill of the freak show then went back to the hotel and crashed.
The Amsterdam show the next day was to be a huge live video shoot. Everyone always thinks that places like Amsterdam, New Orleans, and Vegas are great places for special events... Not so much. Everyone is always so fucked up... and not just that... they're jaded. These people are used to seeing spectacles... Nothing excites them. Or most of them that is. The A-damn crowd were almost sleeping. Well... I'm exaggerating... but compared to other shows it was sleepy. The band performance was kind of a train wreck at times... but super entertaining... Dave was in rare form. I love these kind of shows. Where they just kind of free form it all the way through. Making up new words to songs and stuff like that... Not sure what the video footage will be like... but hell... at the Foo Fighters worst.... is still better than Creed or Nickleback's best. Hmmm... I guess that's not saying much. You know what I mean.
Which brings me to Hamburg for a day off. Awesome day off!!! I went to the hotel gym and had a good sweat then hooked up with a bunch of the guys and headed off to an indoor cart racing track. We all chipped in and rented the track for an hour. It cost about 500 euros. It was a pretty fancy set up... fast carts... helmets... qualifying... the whole nine. I've never done anything like that before... I'm hooked... I had so much fun. All the guys are complaining today about sore this and sore that... pussies. Some of 'em did take some pretty back wrecks. Those carts would get up to about 30 miles an hour. Fast enough to hurt yourself.
Our cook Stu came in first... the cheater!!! I got second... and Nico third... Ian fourth. Martin had the fastest top speed and lap time... and I the second. All I've got to say is I was robbed.
After racing we had a crew appreciation dinner at a little Italian joint. It was just like a real dinner only smaller. One has to keep in mind that dining in Europe is a different animal. you plan on going somewhere for at least three hours and eating many small courses... with lots of time in between. You make a night of it. This doesn't always work with American touring crews... the more time you give us... the drunker we get. Yes... everyone was pretty shitty by the time dinner was over. Myself and a few of the fellas went to this place called the Reaper Bahn or something like that. It's kinda like the red light district of Amsterdam... only much more like a barfight. The window hooker area was deserted and you had to walk through these big foreboding metal gates to enter the street like checkpoint Charlie or whatever. But the scary part was the street hookers you have to walk through to get to the gate. So aggressive... grabbing you and blocking your way... ganging up on you... "lets go upstairs NOW! 30 euros!!!!"... It was like that old game Robotron. Seriously... even for a big guy like me it was kind of scary... a couple of 'em grabbed on to my jacket and would not let go... tugging me back with all their might. I had to drag 'em down the street till they finally let go. Cussing me in German all the way. creepy.
Show tonight... I've got a good feeling about it.