Amoeblog


sulla strada, capitolo due

Posted by Whitmore, January 27, 2008 06:11pm | Post a Comment
Dreaming on a tour can only twist your waking hours...

In the morning before our long drive to Florence, guitarist Lyman woke dreaming of zombies and a world segregated into vegetarian and constantly hungry, brain-eating zombies. Violinist Julie had a terrible dream about a job interview and making spreadsheets, in her words "a wasted dream" while traveling in Italy. Violist Heather keeps on dreaming of tasty meats, smoked sides of ham, pigeon pies
and cornish hens.

On the long drive from Naples to Florence it was my turn to dream twistedly. I snoozed in the sun in the van until the clouds rolled in and the temperature dropped, I woke up cold and confused and with a massive headache. I dreamt I worked at Ikea and I was up for a promotion, but first I had to pass a physical. The attending nurse detected that my spinal fluid was low, so she hooked me up to an IV and inserted a spinal tap.  While I laid there in bent discomfort, friends and acquaintances came by and rubbed my fore head. At one point someone started singing quietly in my ear, I looked up to find Bjork smiling down at me.

But its my brain in my waking hours that keeps on gyrating as if dreaming...

I assumed from the very beginning that the disappearance of our luggage was no accident, that it must have been 'displaced' on purpose, on the sly. Perhaps an inside job? (Remember- there are no coincidences). Were we the guinea pigs to a sinister Karl Rove, mind control, kind of plot? Secret governments/ organization/ syndicates trying to pin some international crime on us -just because they can!- an act accomplished by simply doctoring and packing our bags, guitars, toothpaste with something only evil-doers would pack. But something I've learned, the hard way, on the mean streets of LA, driving those wretchedly cracked freeways, trying to share the road with gargantuan SUV's, gargantuan egos, and gargantuan film companies screwing up traffic at their will at every turn, (as if they built this entertainment capitol of the world!), for their precious movie shoots.

The one thing I've learned: objects may be closer than they appear in your rear view mirror. Was pinning a major international crime on us, Listing Ship, just an effort to boost CD sales!?!  ... Management? Management, they're so god damned greedy, devious! Everyone knows the harrowing tales and the absolute evil that is the music Industry! And then I thought, what if I'm meant to be the patsy? Me? Was this my punishment for that horrific guitar solo I took that one bumbling night back in Los Angeles right before we left. "I'm sorry I was distracted, I had too much to drink, my guitar was out of tune, I thought we were playing another song, I did only what I was asked, I was following the chord charts! I blame the drummer Kyle! Yes he should take the fall! I won't play the role of sap any longer, not me!"

... oh... oh... my imagination is perhaps getting the best of me, perhaps I need an espresso... and quickly! This is a good time to take the advise of a great band from days gone by,  the Stranglers, "Whitmore, just get a grip on yourself."

Florence is beautiful. The people are beautiful, their clothes are beautiful, all the beautiful people in their beautiful clothes on vespa motor scooters are beautiful, a stray dog taking a crap on the street is the most beautiful dog I've ever seen ...

We were greeted at the club, Libreria La Cite with a bottle of wine. One of club owners motioned towards the stage area, saying something in Italian. Near the stage in the corner in the dim light I sort of recognized the familiar grime, dirt and overall poor condition of three black musical instrument cases, and each case had attached a Listing Ship sticker. Our luggage had arrived, in Florence, four and half days after we had landed in Rome. I saw no undercover evil-doers lurking about, setting us up for a lifetime of hell in some foreign Gulag. Still I approached cautiously, opened my guitar case carefully and there it was in all its glory, my 10 string classical guitar and a picture of my son and a little note I've seen dozens of times before stating, contents of this case was inspected by the FAA.

As I was still gathering my thoughts and making sense of all this good news, I was suddenly aware of a kind of pandemonium swelling all around me. Quickly and unexpectedly a large vocal crowd started pushing their way into the club ...  everything was moving faster and louder, and the wine I was so looking forward too was pushed further and further away ...

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Florence (2), Coffee (14), Bullshit (10), Italy (13), Travel (23), Blather (58), Conspiracy (14)