I am in a Starbucks on an iPad sitting across from Shades who is on his laptop. I am the guy I make fun of. Don't tell anyone.
You know how you can think the world is so cruel? Well I'm pretty cynical, but I gotta say, our pal Rick Fusco is a true friend.
Not only did he prepare kickass chicken fajitas, he has an Echo Park pad with the perfect lifestyle. The last time I left him (in Detroit) he had a short crop 'do but now that he's in California, well ... Let's just say he's adopted the look of Jesus, or The Dude, or some lost Manson follower. May be that's what happens to all the Detroit ex-pats once they move three hours to the left: they just get real gone. Maybe the dude's crazy ( I'm endorsing the Manson theory). If that's crazy then it's I'll take it 'cos he hooked us up with his amp repair guy, fed us, and hung with us at the world famous Whisky the next night. It's people like Fusco, people with character, who remind me the world is alright.
After we left Rick's we arrived at Burger Records for our gig. The Burger dudes were great too, and it was good to have sax man Dean thrown back into the mix. Kyle, Jarrod, Dean, and I rehearsed our harmonies in the van on the way up and I was feeling good about it. Everyone was so accommodating and nice about sharing parts. "Four part harmonies" and "nice" in The Sights? I felt like we should've been wearing letter sweaters and calling ourselves Chip, Kip, Flip, and Sk...?
The funniest part about the Burger gig was the obvious stench of California reefer that enveloped the entire record store. The funny part wasn't the stank, but rather the nervousness a few of the Burger dudes were about making sure the door was shut while bands played. Y'know, sound issues and all. I guess the laws are lax here ... like Fusco's shaving routine. Thanks to Fusco and thanks to a Burger Records.
All the best,
Current tour weight: unknown (but I bet last night's Stouffer's didn't help)
Photos by Shades
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