Dorothy was spot on when she said, "There's no place like home." I've seen the inside of so many highway rest stops (don't say it, you dirty SOBs), that I can accurately arrange those urinal sweet tart deodorizers according to their effectiveness. Since most of your European rest rooms maintain a curious lack of fresh-making devices of any kind, I organize them by the number of punters that can belly up to the trough at any given time. Speaking of urinals, did I mention I'm having one installed in my apartment so I can feel more at home when I'm home? Kind of like my old drummers scheme for re assimilating back into the civilian world following a long tour: For a week or two after he got off the road, he'd have his girlfriend act as tour manager and give him a per diemā?¹the amount of which would decrease daily until he was systematically weaned off the tit of the touring unit. Did I mention it's great to be home?
Finally, a long break before the madness (no doubt) starts up again. We've been unable to reach consensus in the band, but by all accounts, we've done somewhere between 170 and 200 shows in the last year. Sure, that's an easy year if you're Willie Nelson. Or if you're Andy Williams, set up in Branson, you probably do 200 shows in two months. (Joyce, get my Realtor on the phone. I've got an idea: Joe Pernice's Good Time Dorchester Bay Liquor Barge Theater. $20 gets you into the show with full keg/well drink access. If you play your cards right, you'll get a free bed in a Southie Cop hostel. My touring days are numbered. So are my writing days.) Anyway, thanks a lot to all you folks who came out to the shows. It really is a pleasure to play for so many appreciative people. Trust me, I've played for both types. The appreciative ones...those are the ones you want. Sorry we had to cancel the last show ( in College Park, PA). The crazy pollen in St. Louis triggered an allergy-bec
ome-sinus infection like I haven't had in years. I blame the Bush administration. We almost made the whole year without missing a show. I was starting to feel like Cal Ripken. Huge thanks go to the beatific genius who is Ric Menck (Velvet Crush/Matthew Sweet). When our drummer Pat Berkery had to leave the tour due to a family emergency, I called Ric in LA (probably woke him up) and asked if he could fill in. Literally without hesitation, he said, "When do you need me?" The next evening he was behind the tubs in Chicago counting off songs. That's pro. That's a true lover of music, and a true friend. Without Menck, the tour would have ended weeks ago. At the risk of sounding like the father in the Prodigal Son parable, I don't want to forget all of the guys in the band who were there night after night: Thom, Peyton, James and Pat. Without these guys, there would have been nothing. And of course Jose Ayerve, our tour manager extraordinaire. He's a master with a crochet needle
(among other things). His huge heart and innocence are summarized by the following tale: One morning Pat walked into Jose's hotel room to find him seated Indian style at the foot of his bed, hugging a pillow, watching the Scooby Doo movie on pay per view. A stunned look of disbelief froze Jose's face as he lamented almost inaudibly, "I can't believe it. I can't believe they made Scappy Doo the villain." So what's next? Chris "Chief" N. shot a bunch of stuff for a proposed Pernice Brothers DVD. We still have to mix down the live record. Chappaquiddick Skyline is occupying a back burner because we plan to start tracking the next Pernice Brothers record in June. But for the next couple weeks I'm going to hang out with my wife. I am, after all, a newlywed. I'm almost finished with my mini bike restoration. The Vespa is coming out of storage. And if everything goes to plan, I'll get to meet Morrissey next week and give him a copy of my Meat is Murder book. Other than that, I'd say things are pretty dull. JP Brooklyn 4/25/04
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