Thursday, April 11
Hey everyone,
I must apologize in advance--the internet shop opened late and I will
have to stop any moment when the van picks me up for another day on the
road. So it goes....
As John said last, we went on a chilly boat ride for an hour on the
giant Lake we are next too. It was nice, but chilly. After that, we took off
for another gig. It was in a really small church, about the size of Bryn
Mawr. The weird thing, though, was that the pews were in three different
directions in a very small space. It made set up pretty odd, and I
imagine it makes taking communion much worse.
Like I said, gotta go. Will try to write more later.
Michael and the guys.
Friday, April 12
So, Like I said, it makes taking communion pretty difficult. The concert
went well. Greg did some Jericho walking down the aisles, Jim's voice came
back enough for him to take back his lead on I am Troubled, and Doug did a fine
job covering the leads on How I Got Over, and Come on in This House.
Granted, he may never tell you that, but I am telling you he did great.
Half way through the set, Chaz gave the audience permission, literally, to
have some fun and clap along and the energy level went up tremendously. It is
really easy for us to forget how reserved our audiences can be, or,
actually, how reserved they think they are supposed to be. Imagine Chaz
after 4 years of training to be the pope, or on tranquilizers, multiply
it by 100, add 5-20 years, and that is what our audience was. Still, we
got them going because WE ARE ROCK STARS HERE.Seriously, you will have to
check some of the egos when we get back because we have ever seen anything
like this.It finally makes sense out of all the VH1 behind the Music stuff
I have seen. It might even make sense out of the Osbornes.....
So, we left the gig, drove back to Bal....., bid goodbye to Ildi (our interpreter's wife who has been with us from day 1, helpful in picking
out souvenirs, getting Michael to practice his German, keeping our
behaviors in check, and reminding us that women all across the world from time to
time call their husbands SCHTUPID with great flair and, unfortunately,
honesty too), and relaxed. We got out the guitar, wet up to the common area on
the third floor (hardwood floors, vaulted ceiling, soft interior, tiled
patio balcony leading out to overlook the lake), and goofed around. Sure, we
started with music, practicing the set, working on a new piece arranged
by Chaz, Doug, Rick, and John, and the rest of it. Soon, though, we were
going through classics, and,eventually, when the influence of the sole female
had left us, we delved into sophomoric humor at best. Although international
rules of propriety limit me from fully divulging, I will say that the
2004 tour has been discussed, bowling shirts have been considered for
attire, and that every member of the group has a unique nick name which will don
these beautiful uniforms. And, we are still laughing about it two days later.
THE NEXT DAY WAS FREE BABY, FREE.... Or so we thought. I had visions of
sipping Mai Tais, sleeping in, lounging in hot natural springs, seeing
such classics as Scarface in Hungarian, etc. Instead, our hardworking
drivers Donny and Sonny, and our interpreter Andres, got anther full day of
sights into us. It started with breakfast at 8, after which we were carried off
to a stately Hungarian estate that the government took control of in the 60s.
In its heyday, it consisted of over 100000 hectares. Good Golly. Now all
that is left is the estate house, and it was something. Each room lavishly
adorned with Gold knickknacks, crystal chandeliers, velvety wall paper, period
pieces of furniture, and even a private chapel. AND, my favorite, a library
that any god bookloving fool would trade his soul for. Come t think of it, I
would trade a lot of souls for it. 30 foot ceilings, hardwood parquet
floors (actually they ran throughout the house, see sock photo to appreciate),
and enough books to compete with the library of congress. A nice little
balcony that ran along the top, and two spiral staircases, spylike hidden
beneath two walls, that got you there. Have you ever walked into a room and felt
the heavens open, angels sing, and God say, This, son, is where you belong?
I have not either, but this was close.
We sang in the spacious drawing room much to the attendants delight.
Oh, and the tour of the house finished off with a war museum. Ugg Uggh
Ughh. Yeah.
So, we left this palace and went to lunch. What a lunch. Pear Brandy to
kick it off, followed by a nice Chicken Hungarian soup with rice noodles,
followed by leg of goose with stuffed plums with a nice blush wine,
followed by Hungarian form of Crepes (thin pancakes covered with
chocolate and nuts) with coffee and cappuccino. Walla Walla Walla... Oh, and because
the restaurant manager was a musician, he gave us the desert for free so
that we might sing for him. easy Peasy.
after lunch, we rolled ourselves into the cave entrance next door. It
had been a mine at one point. Once they stopped mining, though, it filled
with water and now they give you cute little boat rides, 2 to a boat. It
probably would have made great acoustics for another impromptu song if
a. They had not made tipping the boat such a risk with such a big lunch
b. They had told us that
1) The passage became small enough that Doug could lose his hair
by scraping his head on the ceiling
2) That navigating the boat took skill--Rick and I turned ours
around three times before we figured that out
3) That Greg may never be the same again after having been in
such a small space.
We were all happy that it was over when it was over.
Okay, add in some shopping, a little nap for most, a run for Greg, and
that brings us to DINNER...
We had dinner at a restaurant right off the lake. It was our turn to
treat them to dinner. Ordering alone brought much amusement and difficulty.
Needless to say, they were smart to have our menu choices made before
we showed up, and Andres may never go out with us again if he has to
interpret. Our Old Chicago habits have become pretty engrained as we couldn't get
around ordering over one another, changing an order three or four times, and
wondering why they could bring the wrong item. Those crazy Americans. We
stuffed ourselves silly, drank lots of wine, and had a nice time, all
for far too little money. All in all, it was a good evening, right up until
we argued with Andres about how much we wanted to tip. He has gotta think
we are a little crazy. Let me take that back, he has gotta think we are
crazy.
The next day was yesterday. Breakfast at 8, bus into another city
(they are all running together. Ask Chaz and John, they are taking notes on it
all), another ridiculously nice lunch (soup followed by deepfried ham that had
been breaded and stuffed with cheese--Wowsa wowsa wowsa-- served with
risotto, amazing potatoes sprinkled with paprika, and, my favorite staple here,
pickled cabbage. Please, go out, buy some picked cabbage now because we
will all be shaking in withdrawal by the time we get off the plane. Oh, and
get some cute little toothpicks that have been cut unevenly so that we can
get splinters too. Prima..Sehr Gut. Wundrbar. We washed it all down with
coffee and cappuccino. Then, we did a little shopping--some of us had the
ShiedMcRoyal, which I must say is A Tasty Burger. although, one really
needs a drink afterwards to wash down such a tasty burger........AND, da da da
da, a city tour via foot in the afternoon. Big, Baroque churches, neat city
walls leftover from when the Count had his castle there, nice strolls
along the river, visit to the famous city well that foretold the taking back
of the city by the Hungarians, some very hard, gross peanuts bought from a
street vendor, all to bring us back to church for another gig, much like the
one I described earlier. Jim started sounding more and more like his old
self, Doug did an even more phenomenal job on his leads, Doug played it up
walking the aisle, and the rest were solid.
And, after the gig, another dinner. No soup, but pickled cabbage,
potatoes, rice, turkey, deep fried pork, and drinks.
If we don't all come back significantly heavier it will be a miracle.
Most of the guys are off now at a ceramics museum, Greg and I are
getting rested up via many cups of Cappuccino, and we'll be off to our last gig
tonight. We are going to brig the house down with Ildi, Andres wife on
lead in one song, and then rumble into Budapest sometime tomorrow. I do not
know if we will get a chance to write more but I can tell you all this.
1. I love these guys and we've had a great time.
2. We miss you all terribly.
3. Each of us, in our own different ways, cannot wait, really cannot
wait to get back to all of you.
From all of us, this is Michael signing off.