All Eyes on Imus

I've been having a lot of trouble finding ways to start these darned blogs. I fear sounding repetitive, bogus, and a bit long-winded in these writings, and I'm doing my best to not say the same stupid shit over and over again. But sometimes it's easy. My topic for the day is Don Imus. What a fucking moron, right? One would think that it's as simple as that. And I know that's sort of a shallow perspective on the matter, given its dark and undeniable implications about the relationship between black and white, man and woman, and the blue state/red state mentality in our country. But seriously. For me to get into a hotel in Louisville, turn on the tv, and find six news channels tossing around the same tired, days old subject, I have to wonder: aren't there more important things going on the world? I don't just mean people dying in Iraq; I don't just mean what the Iranians have hidden under their sleeves; I don't mean what the scientists (yes, the "scientists....) are saying about the bird flu this week. There have to be 1,000 other more pressing issues out there. To quote Brian, "the world has gone Imus crazy!"

Just because he's helped wounded veterans and lobbied for betterment in the world doesn't mean the guy isn't a total fucking ass. I remember the tornado of news when Anna Nicole Smith died like it was yesterday, and I wasn't even in the country at that point. I was in England with the Diamond, and first found out by encountering a literal wall of tabloid and half-way reputable publications with the same headline, give or take a few more or less tactfully inserted. I heard Dan Rather say on the Bill Maher program (whom I loathe, and don't hold much higher than that DooshImus Maximus Imus) that our worldwide and collective values of news have decreased, while our need and fetish for instant entertainment has increased. I hold the US mostly responsible for this change, mostly because the american culture represents the face of the capitalist world. Capitalism beat Communism, and so the rest of the world has followed the dollar for many years for better or worse. Now we defer to the Euro, but this doesn't change the fact that the Europeans have ignorant people in front of cameras and behind microhpones as well.

So that's my rant for today. Since my last blog, we've played three shows: Birmingham, Tallahassee, and Memphis. In Birmingham, we drove in sensing a certain historic violence in the air. We were literally on the street where some of the worst moments in the civil rights movement took place. The images of blacks being sprayed by hoses and hounded by attack dogs were taken literally a block from our venue for the evening, the Alabama Theater. This is the second state-named theater we've played, the second one being the historic Tennesse Theater in Knoxville. Our hunch proved out to be true, as a brawl almost ensued after the show between our crew and their crew. I was relayed this information by Chris Funk from the Decemberists, who, after having gone back down to the stage to sign autographs in his boxers, shirt, and flip flops, witnessed an altercation between our lighting designer, Stephen, and the production manager from the venue. Somehow, the way Chris told the story made it out to be somehwat comedic and innocuous, but I later learned that the near-brawl was much more serious. Luckily, no punches were thrown and no one was hurt. Notwithstanding near violence, we had a great show, and had a nice evening.

The highlight from the Memphis evening came after the show, back at the "artisan" hotel. I won't go too far into detail about the hotel itself, but let's just say it was under new management......use your imagination...... When Brian and I got to our room, it was somehow deadbolted from the inside, forcing us to seek another chamber. I volunteered and hustled downstairs to get a new key. The guy at the desk took five minutes to even notice me, being held down by a phone call which only elicited the words, "uh huh....yeah....yeah.....uh-huh.....yup," but finally gave me the key to a room on the 7th floor. As Brian and I got out of the elevator, I dropped my key on the floor. I laboriously bent down with my huge duffel bag thrown about my shoulder to pick it up, bending slowly, awkwardly, and uncomfortably, until just before I could reach the key my strap totally busted, nearly throwing me backwards from the transferred force. Luckily Brian got a laugh out of it, as did I, but this means I've busted two pieces of luggage in two months. I think my luck is bad. In our room, however, we found two magical beers which appeared completely on their own outside our window. Seriously. They were sitting right below the window sill, on the outside. I shit you not. As for our dayoff, we did nothing really. We ate a wonderful breakfast, and went to a park to throw the frisbee around. Now we are here in Louisville, and I'm exhausted. Show tomorrow, show the next day, show the next day, and then Chicago. I can't wait.