I'm writing this from backstage at a Red Hot Chilli Peppers gig in Holland. And how was your day? A girl just walked the van in the most see-through top I've ever seen on someone in public. The air is thick with the smell of a well oiled machine, and weed. Behind me a white rapper is berating the crowd for playing football and not basketball. I think they're throwing sandwiches at him.
Earlier someone from the crowd stopped me and asked why I was wearing sunglasses when it was raining. I showed him my eyes. "I understand" he said and patted me on the back.
So I've been busy, quit bugging me. It's been a hectic few months... moved house again, making the big step into cohabitation with Isobel. It's bigger and better than I ever imagined it could be. To think I was worried and stressed about the decision, how foolish I was. All the time I was driving to Holland I was thinking why am I driving away from her?
I am now worried that I'm getting soppy. I'm also worried that my previous statements about the nature of relationships will come back to haunt me. I was wrong. There. I said it. Happy now?
So what's a great thing you can do whilst in the middle of moving house - an activity behind only divorce in the list of most stressful things to undertake. How about go on tour? I've done two tours since 65 last month - one with Brett Dennen and this current jaunt with Dirty Pretty Things - and I'm beginning to tire of it. It's a good way to earn some extra money, but damn does it take alot out of you... I mean, it's much more fun when you're an artists, but as a driver you just feel tired and put upon much of the time. Which is a shame as that's your job.
Yesterday we were mud soaked in Glastonbury. Since I was driving overnight to Holland I tried to get some shut-eye in the back of the van, which was attentively parked directly behind the Pyramid Stage. Did you watch Lily Allen? I was asleep pretty much right behind her... and when I woke the clothes horse herself was stood right by my window. I stuck my tongue out and although the glass was tainted, I thought she saw me.
I'm too old for this shit. I mean, I still love touring, and festivals and gigs, but I need to have hospitality now, and nice toilets, and a good bed at the end. I don't mind camping, but it needs to be a quiet field. I can't be doing with mud and shouting and no sleep anymore. Let this be a lesson, it happens to us all.
It's my birthday in September. I keep saying "I feel so thirty." Maybe that's got something to do with it.
Holy shit. 65daysofstatic are supporting the Cure in America. They're playing the Hollywood Bowl, and Madison Square Gardens. Fucking Madison Square Gardens. It's become very easy to be blase about their success now, as most things that are happening now are a natural progression and expected for a band in their position. But the fucking Cure? In the Hollywood Bowl? I don't think I could be more proud of them.
"Whose cock do I have to suck to get on that tour?"
Joe called me on Thursday and he told me about it. "It's a secret" he said "until it appears on the Cure website I won't believe it." So much for sneaky insider information, the next day I had several phone calls and texts telling me about it. And here was something I thought I could smugly mention in a few months time when it came out - "Oh that? Yeah, I've known about that for ages..."
This is a list of things I've learnt recently.
- There are no seasons anymore. Just weather.
- Americans actually have a highly developed understanding of sarcasm.
- British roads are staggering overcrowded.
- Saxondale is a dead on take of most roadies.
- Gary from Dirty Pretty Things is a lovely guy.
- Receiving a laminate that says 'Red Hot Chilli Peppers World Tour 2007 - Dave' can make a guy pretty happy.
Life's actually pretty good at the moment. I'm finally earning a liveable wage off Medlo, I have an awesome new house that I share with my best girl, work is plentiful and the result of our own efforts and I have a sideline that takes me to all manner of strange places across the world.
Told you I was feeling thirty.
Last week I had a great joke idea for a TV show - I wrote it down and sent it to two people, thinking they'd find it hilarious. No replies came for a few days, and then suddenly both got back to me. "Love it", they said, "we should do it." Hey. That's the Medlo way.
I've just finished reading Joe Eszterhas' autobiography 'Hollywood Animal.' It's amazing. This is my favourite line: "(there were times) when we didn't want our boys trick or treating at Kenny G's or Gary Busey's house."
Think I'm going to go and get another one of those salmon kebabs that they have in the hospitality tent. It's a hard life. See you back in the real one.