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We’re on a train going from Glasgow to London.  The shows have gone well I think and I’ve learned an enormous amount about each country we visited.  For instance, Spain, apparently, had a civil war just like our own.  This is not a joke. In their civil war other countries joined in on opposite sides.  The British Poets and Authors, as in World War I, fought on the side of Good.  Funny story: Anton Webern, the composer, was killed on the last day of World War II! (NbC: Huh?)

I hate to say this but the people in Spain, the Spaniards, didn’t seem particularly happy. Or maybe, they just weren’t happy to see me!  People in Finland, Norway and Denmark seemed happy and quite content.  I hope I’m not generalizing too much.  I don’t think so.

Cathy lost her key today and while she was looking for it in her suite (NbC: Hah!), she found a golf club, a golf ball, a putting machine, and a cap.

Last night, after the show in Glasgow, Bo, who up ‘til now has confined his drinking to late morning, decided since he was in Scotland he wanted to taste the best single malt available. So he did and we watched him do it.  It was great.  We talked to the whisky guy about noses, tops, bottoms, hoofs, mouths, and finance.  There really was something special and complicated about the single malt whisky he drank.

The buildings in Barcelona don’t have any conventional corners.  The entrance faces the corner so theoretically you wouldn’t know how to decide what street the building is on.  It could go either way.

(NbC:  zzzzz) …… and we saw some churches too.

The last couple of nights have been different because we were playing to an English speaking audience.  I don’t get any of those courtesy laughs anymore.  They understand for sure what I’m saying.  Can’t fool them, no sir. I’m not happy with the quality of the journal this time.  I don’t know whether it’s me or someone else.  Every time I get what I think might be a good idea, good in the literary sense, Someone pops up with a question about grammar or fashion and sometimes, yes, even about getting paid for participating in this enterprise.  Little does she know.  She’s in for a real surprise because I’m learning to type myself.  I just typed this part. (NbC:  That’s a lie.)  Look for my blog.

Do you remember at the start of the tour when Cathy ate bear?  Well, last night, she drank a blond beer called Bitter and Twisted.

All my love,

Randy

PS: If you don’t hear from Bo or me again, please tell the authorities about a person of interest.

PPS: I don’t think I’ll play Yellow Man any more.

We Also Saw Leo Sayer

I once had a friend who had leg troubles. One leg, I think, was shorter than the other. I too have that problem but it hasn’t stopped me from making something of myself. Anyway, this friend of mine sent out a Christmas card with a picture of an orthopedic shoe but without his name. Unfortunately, no one knew who the card came from. Cathy, in the previous journal entry, made the same mistake only worse. She thought everyone would know that “NbC” meant “Note by Cathy.”

Just played the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam. (NbC: Currently, the Euro is at $1.26.) I played here almost 40 years ago. There, now you can figure out how old I really am. There are about 25 red steps that lead to the stage from the balcony. I went down the steps to the stage and I made it. Does everyone look at their feet when they go down the stairs? I’m not going to joke around any more. For some songs the audience applauded during the intro as if they were hits. Birmingham, for instance, and Lonely at the Top. I think I had two albums that sold inordinately well here. I saw Suzanne and Jeroen back stage after the show. Jeroen is still a basso profundo. Suzanne is not a basso profundo but is nice as ever. (NbC: He said he wasn’t going to be funny anymore.)

I played Eindhoven yesterday. It was once, and still is to some extent, a factory town for Philips Electronics. I think it was the best show so far. When I played here before I found it difficult to make the audience laugh much. Maybe their English wasn’t quite as good as in Gronigen say. (NbC: It’s time for sound check ….)

Speaking of the journal, Cathy just reminded me about the hotel in Brussels. It was odd. We arrived in the afternoon – my wife Gretchen, Cathy, Bo, and I – and a guy checked us in. We went upstairs and the same guy brought the bags up. A few hours later I had to send some laundry out and the same guy came up to get the laundry. Went down to dinner and there he was again as maitre d’ and waiter. After we ordered he said, “I’ll go prepare your meal” – this is in a big hotel you understand – either there was a strike or a major holiday, it’s hard to figure. I went to get a massage the next day and I went to the spa desk and he wasn’t there but he soon arrived and gave me the best and most meaningful massage I’ve ever had. Jack was his name as in jack-of-all-trades perhaps. Gretchen has gone home but I’m glad to say that Jack is still with us. We smuggled him out of Brussels into Holland and dropped him at a hotel here in Turnhout.

Today is a day off. I took a walk up the river. I never noticed how beautiful this city is. The canals, the bridges, the boats. It reminds me of Los Angeles. The other night after the show in the Concertgebouw the guy who manages the theatre was standing with Cathy and Bo watching the people exit. After a while, he said to Cathy, “So many men! Usually it’s closer to 50/50.” I found that a little disheartening. One time, Lenny and Russ, my producers, made a mock promo with Harry Shearer, later with the Simpsons, it opened this way: “Newman! Music men like.” Maybe they were right. I should’ve written more love songs. The love songs I do write, for instance, Emotional Girl, Bad News From Home, Same Girl are as much about the narrator’s character as about the Beloved or the “relationship”. I think I don’t see myself as a Romantic Hero though I am one.

The answer to last week’s question is Leonard Cohen and/or Miss Joni Mitchell. Here’s another: (remember 5 Euros to the Foundation in Tulsa) Should I ever again play Yellow Man in Belgium?

The answer is no. Explain.

More about Gretchen’s European Vacation later.

Love

Randy

Bunny Rabbit!

We — Cathy, Bo Jacob, and I — are on the road.  It’s nice to be out here making music with my friends.  Bo hasn’t toured with us for 25 years.  He lives in Virginia.  He’s about 5’9”. He looks good to me now.  He took a government job and for some years was in the CIA.  He’s got some great stories.

Here’s what I had for breakfast: (NbC - I’ll edit this.)

….at least, that’s what I told the Finns.

Anyway, we’ve had a show in Helsinki, one in Oslo and tonight we play Bergen.  I’d never been in Helsinki before.  They had a big bookstore right near the hotel.  In Los Angeles, you hardly see a bookstore any more.  You also don’t see this many young people with white hair.  It’s not true that they look like Eskimos.  Though strangely enough, I seem to be a big favorite among the Eskimo population in these countries.  I’m playing Santa’s workshop in the fall opening for Joni Mitchell, one of my all time favorite singer-songwriter philosophers.    Naturally, given the nature of what I do on stage I have to worry about English proficiency.  In Scandinavia everyone speaks English.  For the Finns, it’s a necessity, I guess.  The only language Finnish is related to is Hungarian.  (NbC – I’ve heard him say that 20 times.)  We went to a restaurant in Helsinki. Inadvertently, Cathy ate some bear.  You are what you eat. Inadvertently, I ate some reindeer.  It sickened me to think of what I’d done.  Bo ordered Bunny Rabbit and ate every last bit of it.  (NbC – Now he’s hopping around like he dropped a big crmjed on his phlaktost! sp?)

I used to perform in Scandinavia years ago.  The promoter was a guy who was connected to Abba in a fortunate way.  He never made any money on my shows.  He didn’t need to.  Finally, after a slow night in Stockholm, even he said, “Vramt! (Enough!)” And we haven’t played there since.

There are no clocks in any of the hotel rooms that we’ve stayed in.  Maybe they’re right.  Speaking of the hotel room, a funny thing happened. I turned on the television in Bergen some while after we’d checked in. (NbC – like about 20 seconds)  I couldn’t change channels with the remote.  It said to fill in the room number.  At first I thought it was for some paid service but after awhile I put the room number in.  Let’s say room number 1.  When I entered it, I saw that it was indeed a paid service.  Do you think I should call down to reception and cancel the service, which I’m getting for free?  Send your answers to the Newman Foundation in Tulsa OK along with 10 Euros.

Bye for now,

Randy

THE HILLS ARE ALIVE AND SO AM I

I’m dictating this so it may not be any good. The last Journal From Europe is justly famous for it’s wit and insight. No, actually it isn’t. I’m beginning to forget things.

We played Vienna two nights ago in the Opera House.  It went well particularly considering it was the first show.  It’s the 250th anniversary of Mozart’s birth so it felt right for me to be there.  It seemed that I should commemorate the birth of my late colleague by actually playing in the town that treated him so badly.  They treated me better than they treated Mozart, Mahler, Berg or Schoenberg. (Cathy can’t do the umlaut.  She also can’t do a kip or a front walkover which I can do and will do in Montreaux. I’m 52 years old but still as spry and flexible as I was when I was a boy.  Look out ladies!  And gentlemen too!)  They’re doing a Mozart opera called Albertina, which he must have written when he was 3½ .  I’ve never heard of it.  I think they should make sure that it’s not actually by Elton John.  But seriously, they really should check it out.

I did a new song in Vienna called “Losing You”.  I think they liked it.  I’m not sure about the form of it yet.  Also, here’s another great thing I did. (Note by Cathy:  I can’t take much more of this.  He pretends to be so modest but he thinks he’s so great.) Since it was the Vienna Jazz Festival, and what I do is pretty far from jazz, (NbC: I’ll say.  The place was sold out and the people who were there to hear some good jazz are still there waiting.)  I played another new song, one which isn’t finished, so I had to kind of improvise like they do when playing jazz.  It was kind of shitty but they took it well much as they did when Hitler marched into the city in 1937.  They may not have liked it but they showed great enthusiasm.  The song is going to be good though.  It’s called “A Few Words In Defense Of My Country”.  I’ll try and get it together so I can play it in Europe where we need defending.

I have a show tonight with Dr. John at The Tower of London.  I hope it goes okay and they release me when I’m done.

Bye for now.  Look for my World Cup Special tomorrow.  Send five Euros to the Newman Foundation in Tulsa, OK and find out who’s going to win the Cup.

Love to all the Little Criminals.

Randy

7 July 2006

LA DOLCE VITA

We are in Rimini in northern Italy. We have a day off tomorrow due to too few Slovenians being interested enough to pay a week’s salary to see me perform for seventy-five minutes. My feelings aren’t hurt.

Personally, I’m unaffected by this Balkan dis. But, I must admit that I am embarrassed for my country. When I played Slovenia last time we stopped to look at the site of an old concentration camp near the Austrian border. I let it go. But this pisses me off. We (I use the plural not in the Imperial sense but to include Cathy who is an important part of the Newman team – without her the whole delicate mechanism we work so hard to perfect would collapse, and be as “dust in the wind”) are playing Verucchio on Monday. The people of the region are reacting to the news of my show in much the same way that the Slovenes did, but I’m going to Verucchio and I’ll play whether they like it or not. I have feelings too.

We played Montreux on the night of the World Cup Final. I don’t know how many people were out there but they seemed to like the show. I saw the end of the match. When Italy won everyone in the town went crazy until four in the morning. There was just a big fireworks display out of the window of the hotel. The weirder the road gets the better it is at this point in my life.

I played at a castle in Udine. Udine is northeast of Trieste.  And is still in Italy. Trieste has been in so many different countries it reminds me of Herbie Hancock with whom I shared the stage at the North Sea Jazz Festival in Rotterdam. I saw Susan, Suzanne and Jeroen backstage after the show. I love seeing them. The show was sold out I think and went very well. I always try my hardest in Holland. Rotterdam sure has a big port. It ought to be a hotel in Las Vegas.

I was just in Las Vegas for the first time in many years (NbC – apparently he doesn’t count that show at the House of Blues) there was a charity auction up at Pixar for a showing of “Cars” and I bid for, and won, a trip to Las Vegas and tickets to see O and Ka, Cirque du Soleil shows. My brother is retiring from Medicine. I thought this would be a nice gift for his wife and him. I mention all this because I very badly want to say something about O and Ka. I said many of the things I want to say under my breath and finally quite loudly at the shows themselves. But I find that I am not yet ready to put my thoughts into writing. I will say this: I can play several pieces from the show using only my nose and my buttocks. Sometimes I put on tights, put out some dry ice and just run around as if I were mad! My brother is the best Newman we’ve had so far. It was great to see him and as you may have noticed, I’m a better person because of it.

A word about the title of this entry, there are a lot of things in this town named after Fellini. I think he was born here maybe. Anyone who knows, send your answer to the Newman Foundation in Tulsa, OK along with five Euros.

Grazie.

Randy and Cathy

16 July 2006