[Previous entry: "SEPTEMBER 25 2005"] [Next entry: "SEPTEMBER 26 2005 - WELLINGTON"]

10/26/2005: "FLASHBACK - SUMMER 2004"

- - - ----



FLASHBACK:

SUMMER 2004

I somehow managed to jump aboard a swedish singer songwriter festival that toured from town to town. Since I had been living in denmark for the summer it seemed convenient. The added perk is that I will see my old friend richard buckner on the bill. I have not seen rick since I made his vocal recording at my tucson house a duet with neko case, that showed up on the last “…blacky ranchette” album.

We met up in gotenborg. It was a fine night. The next day we shared a train to stockholm for the final show. I managed to talk a conductor into letting us on the super fast train that was on the track next to our super slow train. It was a trick of the eyelids. He put us in 1st class for a while, just for good luck. we had some time there to wonder about it all.

At the stockholm show, richard asked me to play some keyboard during his set. unfortunately, his guitars were lost on his flight over, so I let him use my old ‘52 gibson with the p-90 pick-up, which he managed to destroy as he came onstage to do his set. his faced slacked. he was severely distraught over the accident of the guitar. he then leaves the stage in shock and in search. that left me with a festival crowd waiting on his set to begin. so I was just sitting there at a digital keyboard, having since concluded my own set an hour earlier, and having already allowed myself the luxury of a beer buzz in the duration.

My only choice left, to commence with a rock opera I would make up then and there on the spot. apparently it was good enough because the press wrote way too much about the whole ordeal. when we would return to play stockholm several months later as giant sand, a huge crowd turned out because of whatever the paper wrote about that disabled set.

Anyhow, buckner manages to get himself back on stage and continue on with a fine set mostly because he has one of the finest voices on the planet. we both drink ourselves into a mid summer nights oblivion that sunny night. funny to stumble to the hotel at 2 am and have the morning sun shine to reveal all the other drunks doing the same.

Up early again to catch a plane. Head down to sicily to meet up with the rest of the new giant sand band for a show there. supposedly the opening of a new rock cafe, or so I think i had been told.

When I get to the airport in stockholm, there is anders pedersen (giant sand slide player and the illegitimate son of pea soup andersen) in line at the ticket counter. somehow his connection to sicily from denmark had him here in stockholm, so we rode down the skies together.

We landed in catania, the town just below the live volcano of mt. etna. met up with peter dombernowsky and thøger t. lund, giant sand drummer and bassist. first time I played here solo a few years back, I was put up in what we call a ‘texas’ hotel. a one star hotel, texas being the lone star state. this time it looked like about 5 stars were involved and it sat just across the street from a strip of beautiful beach. the waters around this island being extremely warm and inviting.

Later, we hooked up with Italian agent enrico and local promoter johnny, who looks a lot like robert deniro and used to have a club called taxi. his english is not good, so we rely a lot on enrico. the rock café turns out to be a hard rock café. big surprise. I thought it would be just another rock club. a hard rock café would have caused me to second guess the offer. too late now. there it sat amongst the ancient crumblings of several roman ruins and the amazing fish market. inside we met the owner. he looked obviously like a mafia honcho, but instead turned out to be an english professor. gold neck chain and big cigar, silver hair and bravado paunch.

We do a sound check and then I need to head out and walk out of there into the real heat of the day. take in the ancient city alone. I was out the door and ready to disappear when enrico called me back. a picture with the owner. no problem. we met there just outside the doorway. the entire work force of the club assembled in a flash as if on cue all around us in formation and a paparazzi appeared out of thin air to photograph it all. then a gold star was handed to me with the band’s name on it, and then tv crew cameras rolled. it was placed directly in front of us in the sidewalk, like all the other hard rock cafes around the world that have band names on stars imbedded in the sidewalk leading up to the entrance.

It was a fellini moment. at the base of a volcano, in the ancient city of catania, there sits a hard rock café with one lone star cemented in the sidewalk out front with the name giant sand on it, like it matters. must be a texas sidewalk.

Next morning ecrico had to leave the island early for another tour back on the main land. taxi driver johnny would come to fetch us and get us to the airport on time later that same day. I was looking forward to sleeping in and then taking in some of that amazing beach. water never fails to perk up an arizonan. the rude wakening was some kind of plans for lunch in which I was unaware of. the danes had set it up with johnny. My tour gut said no. the beach was the way to go. but the danes are very clandestine. they move in a pack when they make a move. it seemed preposterous to leave that stunning beach behind for lunch, even in italy. but look at the poor singed danes. they were already toasted from the little sun they soaked up. they are “lobster children”, is what I think I heard anders call themselves. red and burnt already. they needed to flee the beach. I bent to the democratic rule, which is sort of a mistake since them boys always like to bust a move in a group. mob mentality can be a train wreck too.

So we head up the mountain to johnny’s house for lunch. It is a spectacularly long and twisted ride. every mile whispers the notion of missing our plane. we get there and have a great lunch. johnny’s voluptuous girlfriend seems to have taken a shine to peter, and this is something to see since peter is so reserve and subtle. johnny goes missing for a long time after lunch. they offer me their little plastic pool to drench my beach longings in. it cools my sizzle a bit with frown intact.

now it is getting way too late to make our plane. What gives ?
johnny is lost in the internet, having problems with his computer, like all time has evaporated. several urgings and he finally jumps to it, realizing it is going to be close to make our plane. normally italians react like arizonans, leaving as late as possible to make their travel arrangements, which is why it also usually feels so comfortable here as opposed the regiment of punctuality in northern climates.

But this was ridiculous. no way could we make this plane. so we flew down the mountain with Johnny as the taxi driver. flew. it was a sickening display of road curvature served up for dessert. endlessly the road elongated. I thought about all the casual hours on the beach that were dismissed in lieu of this.

We get to the airport and there is only minutes left before our flight and they simply will not let us check in. too much baggage, too little time. an argument in Italian goes on forever. we have no choice now but to buy new tickets to fly out the next day. I am getting heated at the danes and the entire absurdity of the way the afternoon has played out.
when we get outside, johnny’s car is gone. towed.

Ok, so we get to stay back up the volcano at johnny’s again. great. the night is not bad. we head out to witness hugo race perform at an outdoor venue somewhere up the mountain. we get to order many pizzas after midnight. I am caught up in the splendor of having another night in this paradise. then we spend some time at a woman’s house and she shares with us her photos of being inside the crater of the volcano when it is at its most voluptuous. they are stunning shots. the mountain does not allow many up to witness this thing. she has been given passage by the powers that be.

Ok then. sleep after that. then we head down early to a gelato shop by the sea to wait out the final hours before our new plane will leave. during the last hour, probably in some form of retaliation, I insist on going in for a swim. I am the only one who does. the danes remain back in a pack. just before I dive in I am warned of the medusas, the kind of jelly fish here. the water is amazing. the sea here is so very salty, it practically throws you back out when you jump in. floating about, I drift into a jelly fish. she kisses my ankle like a blessing from the sea. I guess it is time to leave. by the time I make it back to the boys, my ankle is burning from the venom. I manage the ritual cure of pissing on the wound to kill off its poison, and it works. the swim was worth it, but now johnny is looking a little worried about making the plane again.

We fly to the airport again. something is wrong. the car starts to sputter when we have to go up the small hills. finally it dies altogether. all the while we have been with johnny, he can never explain whatever is going on because of his lack of english.

So we all get out, me and the danes, and begin pushing the car to the airport. this is hilarious. the absurdity of how impossible it is to leave this place has a severe tickle to it. we push the car up one hill, get in and glide down to the next hill, then get out and begin to push it up the next hill, laughing all the while and having no idea how far away the airport is cause Johnny can’t tell us. insane.

Then over the top of the second hill, as we jump back in the car, we can see the airfield down below. we glide down to the airport like a dream in slow motion. finally push the car into a parking spot. We all hustle into the airport still a giggle. the boss, the old man behind the desk, charges johnny an extra 1400 euros for the new tickets. I think he is about to have nervous breakdown. I wonder if his internet was worth that much. I opt to hand over 500 euros to take some of the sting out of the ordeal. we did have another night of pizzas there in paradise on the volcano, which in itself is priceless. and we were paid way too much money for this trip.

so we get to leave. lone star sidewalk, volcano and all.