Back in Chicago for many shows with the Highway Robbers, and so far so good, with the exception of an encounter with Illinois's's finest on the way down south to the Hangar 9 show in Carbondale. He had SCMODS, and he was not at all amused by our band name. Neat little college town, lots of hippies, patchouli in the air. Smelled like old times.
The first show was at the big Shaw's Oysterfest smack in the middle of downtown. Nice to play in front of a couple thousand oyster-slurping shuckers. I think everybody was in a fabulous mood, with the possible exception of the sound guy who obviously was out for blood. It certainly felt like my head was being sawed off with a nail file, but all is forgiven. Huge stage, mighty friendly folks, nice hotel, nice dinner at $haw's. Delightful place, a simply perfect martini, but singularly the most expensive crab cake in the world. Go anyway. I'm pretty sure Al Capone sat in my chair many times.
Last night's show was at Club 151 downtown. New place, and they're still working out some kinks (more buzz-saw acoustics). But they will, and one day it'll be a great place. Some down time today. Just sitting in front of this lovely fire I just willed into existence. Yes, since you asked, my middle name is Prometheus. Half way through this tour, and having a blast. Stay tuned for part 2.
I murdered Dick Cheney.
So I invited George W. Bush and Dick Cheney over for dinner the other night. I prepared a delightful meal, and a nice post-meal round of port and cigars. They started babbling at each other about "policy", and at some point George became utterly dismayed at something Dick said. George shot a glance my way as if to say "you know what to do."
Apparently I did. I grabbed Dick by the throat with both hands and started swinging him around above my head. I slammed his body onto the ground several times, throttled him some more, and eventually let him fly across the room and into a crumpled heap on the floor. Dead as Julius Caesar. George thanked me and left the room.
Then I woke up.