Well, my old mom's alright. I was lying around tonight drinking beer and my mom said "Hey, I'll trade you a drink of scotch for one of those beers." When I told her I was trying to lay off the hard stuff, she said "no, I'll trade you another one of those beers for a drink of the scotch you have in your van." She cleaned my van about two months ago and remembered spotting a bottle of scotch in my van-- a bottle that I'd even forgotten about. And good son that I am, I was already halfway into the loft in the back of my van like a terrier after a gopher before I realized that the beer she was going to trade me for my scotch was my beer that I left here last time I was here...
The show in LA last night was great, especially considering the complete and utter lack of preparation I put into it. Ryan was great, picking me up at the airport, then ferrying my drunk ass to the club and back to their crib afterwards (I fell asleep in the back seat). Then he even drove me down to my mom's in Oceanside today on about four hours of sleep with nary a complaint. He and Ron have really been struggling in LA, but it's heartening to hang out with someone who is totally committed to making their art work. LA's fucking bizarre, at one point last night I was standing on Hollywood Boulevard, looking down at Charles Schulz star right around the corner from the L. Ron Hubbard reading library.
I listened to the new record and, after hating it on my little boom box in the Pit Of Despair, I loved it on Ryan's car stereo. Ryan dug it, too-- but man, his face really lit up when he heard Beat the Devil. The Beat the Devil shit is better, and I can say that without any bitterness. Still, it's hard to see a friend and a fan have a deeper response to the band I've played bass in for a couple of months than he did to the shit that I've ruined my life for. I don't feel threatened by Shilpa's writing prowess and I don't feel the need to compete with her; she's so far out of my league that instead of feeling like I've got to match her or best her, I feel happy and lucky to be playing in a band with such a talent and I just want us both to become better writers. Of course, being BFF with her and Justin and having both of them be so sensitive and supportive of what I'm doing makes the whole thing easier. (Justin said the first thing he and Shilpa thought when they were getting ready to move into their new place is that they'll have to get a couch for me to sleep on). I'll come out and say it: I'm optimistic, both about Beat The Devil and my own stuff. The record's really good.
Denver Post is running something about my Denver shows! Man, for once it's actually going to be good to return to the site of my greatest defeat with some kick ass press heralding my return. I mean, it'll all end in heartbreak anyway, as it always does, but I'm looking forward to it right now.
I'm already missing Justin and Shilpa and Jesse and Jay, all my pals who have been so awesome in the last coupla months. I'm doing okay, but I know I'll be run pretty fucking ragged by the time I make it back to NYC. Either way, tomorrow, it's on.