The Great Pretender

Carynne would later tell me that Argentina was much more “guitar-focused” (her term) than other parts of South America, so if I was going to be chased through the streets anywhere with a frenzy nearly equal to Ziggy’s, it was going to be here. I’m not completely sure that’s true, but it was also the only place on the tour where there were journalists who wanted to talk to me specifically. She claimed some of those press requests had come in before the whole baby-saving story broke.

But I suspected she might be trying to make me feel better about the fact that I spoke to a reporter without approval and upstaged Ziggy.

Ziggy, for his part, acted like he didn’t care about being upstaged. Continue Reading »

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Working Class Hero

The flight from Santiago to Buenos Aires is maybe two hours, definitely not as long as three. Enough time for Ziggy to sleep through pretty much the whole thing. Enough time for me to make a couple more passes by the galley to refill my pocket with teeny bottles of booze. Just in case. I didn’t think of it as going behind Flip’s back. I thought of it as being self-sufficient in case of emergency. We arrived before midnight.

So did a few hundred fans. Or maybe a few thousand? I’m not sure how to gauge the size of the crowd. The policia had them corralled. It felt like something out of a Beatles movie. We walked down a set of stairs from the plane to the tarmac and then paraded past a lot of girls screaming. There were guys in there, too, but you only really hear the high-pitched screams. When I emerged at the top of the stairs the cheers definitely got louder than they were before I’d come out.

And then Ziggy came behind me and the screams went into orbit.
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Ain’t No Future In Yo Frontin’

The next day we left Chile for Argentina on a nighttime flight. Ziggy, exhausted, settled himself into a seat beside me but was asleep before we even took off. I considered snuggling up with him, but then thought that might be weird what with him being out cold.

I buckled a seatbelt on him instead and tucked some pillows around him. Continue Reading »

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Cry for Help

The rest of that day was uneventful. For me, I should clarify. Ziggy had another non-stop day and the rest of the band and crew had whatever adventures and dramas they were having. I’m sure there were some. Me, I mostly slept. I think I was recovering from being at high altitude and also maybe some of the other physical stresses I was dealing with were catching up to me.

Sleep was undoubtedly good for me. Continue Reading »

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Mind Playing Tricks on Me

I woke up in the morning still in my clothes, and from the way my arm felt and the depth of the wrinkles from my sleeve on my face, it appeared I hadn’t moved all night. I put myself into a steamy shower on the theory that if it got wrinkles out of clothes, it might work on me, too. I felt lucky I hadn’t slept on my bad hand.

When I came out Flip was there with coffee and… some kind of custard? Maybe it was yogurt? I didn’t ask. I just ate it and then sat there staring into space while waiting for the coffee to kick in.
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Set the Night to Music

I went to find some other members of the band. If Ziggy was occupied kissing people’s asses, so be it. I wandered back through the party areas, slightly disoriented about what was officially party and what was random. (I never did quite learn the layout of that hotel.)

One of the party rooms was a fancy penthouse-type parlor with a high ceiling and a view of the city. Things were still going strong in there with latin dance music and a bunch of people dancing. The only ones I recognized were Colin and Bradley, the latter of which was riding the former’s shoulders. I smiled. Nice to know they were getting along. A loud dance party wasn’t really what I was looking for right then, though. Continue Reading »

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Can You Stop the Rain

It’s hard to describe the thing that happens where I’m both very cool-headed and out of my mind when I perform. Two different parts of my brain are at work, I guess. On the one hand there’s a part that’s sitting back and analyzing everything. And then there’s the side that is leaping in and taking chances and riding the high. Spock and Kirk, I suppose.

I’m pretty sure Ziggy has a similar thing going on in his head.
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My Body Says Yes

Show day. Every time I turned around, Rogelio, Marvelle, Brad, and Chris were doing the samba march drum thing. The thing about a drum cadence is you can do it endlessly. It’s not like a song that has a beginning and an end–it just goes around and around. So they’d do it until someone told them to knock it off.

Which meant it was usually me telling them to knock it off. I wasn’t used to telling musicians to rehearse less. It felt weird. And I think they thought I was pissed off at them–I wasn’t, but I did have a headache and also every time they started up, someone else would give me a dirty look like it was my fault we were being subjected to this unexpected noise. So then they were pissed off at me. Everyone was pissed off at me. I was pissed off at myself and I didn’t even know why.

Some role model. Continue Reading »

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Up All Night

(Saturday post! Yeahhhh!)
In the end Colin stayed with me that night, and Flip went in search of amusement, and I fell asleep with Colin rubbing my hand at like, eight p.m.

When I woke up a few hours had gone by and I was disoriented at first because I wasn’t used to having slept at that time, plus the whole thing of having to remember where we were and what day it was. Colin was sitting across the room, reading a book by the lamp on the desk.
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Love Is Like Oxygen

What a difference some oxygen makes. I woke up on our second day in Chile feeling like I’d fallen down a flight of small flight of stairs, which was an improvement to waking up feeling like I’d been run over in the middle of the night by a cement truck. I was hungry, which was a good sign.

I was also horny. Continue Reading »

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