— My Blog, 18 May 2010 —
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.
