(And now a segment from Martin, Nomad’s drummer.) Wow, I’d totally forgotten that the night Daron showed up with a black eye was the night before we met Ray. But of course that makes sense because that explains why he was there and his Dad wasn’t. Okay, wait, maybe he didn’t have a black eye. […]
(To get you all warmed up for new Daron posts again, we’ll start with a flashback story from Remo’s point of view, as promised many moons ago. At least, this section is Remo’s…) I named my band Nomad because I imagined we would travel the highways and byways of the world–or at least the country. […]
Some time later, after everyone else was asleep but before dawn, I found myself sitting on the windowsill, tired, very tired, but not ready to lie down yet, rubbing my left thumb in my right hand and thinking. Bart was asleep on his edge of the bed and I wasn’t quite ready to get under […]
Remo and I walked for about a block in silence, climbing the hill toward the hotel, me propelled upward by energy and the feeling like I couldn’t quite get enough air into my lungs. Streetwalkers called to us, homeless-looking men shifted toward us and then away. It felt almost like New York. “Wow,” I said […]
There was a bellydancer waving silks and hands in front of the table when we returned, dollar bills forming a green counterpoint to the blue sequins of her costume. She coaxed Digger up and danced with him to the too-loud piped in music, circling around him with her scarves while he did a kind of […]
The Moroccan place was total decadence, everyone half-sitting, half-lying on these pillows on the floor, the walls all padded with complicated patterns like the set of a movie set in a harem. I half expected the low round tables to come complete with a hookah. Chris and I and Bart sat with our backs to […]
The promoter’s guy, it turned out, had friends who ran a Moroccan restaurant and they often took bands there after a show for a little decadence and graft. Unlike some towns, Frisco had several competing promoters and they wanted to curry some favor. Pun intended. We went along with free food on principle. I was […]
It was when I made one more trip to the men’s room that I overheard something I probably wasn’t meant to. Okay, I know I wasn’t meant to by the people talking, that is.
I haven’t yet succumbed to the temptation to write a song about being on the road. I mean, jeezus, it’s all been done before, said before, it’s almost a cliché in and of itself to just be out there living the lifestyle.
So, the show already. If Ziggy could be a moody bitch, so could I. The two of us were all business now with the bitchiness and bastardy, and people stayed out of our way. Bart didn’t try to lighten the mood–maybe he wanted to see what would happen. Zig and I worked ourselves into a […]