Philly show last night, another wonderful time with wonderful ppl. The Rev, LARM, Les n' Rob, Bwana Peter, Spider, Justin. Band was damn good Mister Jam, just slightly more ragged than DC, not that it mattered; the venue was the tiny upstairs of a battered bar, felt like a living room gig, if your living room was sold out. I spent the first half of the show up in the balcony sailing mod rune patches down into the audience, trying to aim them at the most enthusiastic fans. It was funny watching people be all surprised when they landed and look up trying to suss where they came from, and their friends look up in hopes of more dropping down. I winged one at a tall Beatlesque dude in the front row who knew all the words to the new stuff. I was glad later because not only did he turn out to be a Settler, he got hit in the head with a flying bar glass near the end of the show and had to go to the hospital :( Two runes flew into the crowd unnoticed and one bounced on stage where Bob walked on it for a while before it got kicked or tossed at the audience. After the encore I looked through the MASSIVE amounts of busted glass on the floor to collect the three orphaned runes, but couldn't locate any of 'em, so they must have found loving homes. It would be funny if any ended up on eBay. Bwana said one of the white-on-black original batch I did with a. and the Pope was on there once and went yay high so he got outbid. He doesn't have to worry abt it anymore cuz I kept my promise and gave him one of my last two white-on-black ones for free :)
Eventually I got to missing my pals down below and went down to the stage front to pogo around, drink beer, goose Slushy, the usual shite. The Rev razzed me for eating a leftover cold eggplant sandwich and fries with ketchup in the front row (hey I was hungry!), and for having mini-Knux (still in his Iso Drills tour button) peeking out of my shirt. I gave my last mod rune patch to an old Postal Blowfisher pogoing next to me in a Doug Gillard Salamander t-shirt, for old times' sake.
Now I'm in the van with Les and Rob and Bwana, heading for Boston, singing along with old Todd records. Bwana turned out to be a huge Todd fan who used to follow him around to shows, worked for Rhino Records when they did his reissues, and collected every record he made OR produced. We have pretty much decided we were all meant to meet up, as haphazard as it all came about, because if it wasn't for Bwana I would have left Bobland for good and would not be right here right now sailing up 95 singing along with "Ballad of Todd Rundgren" as we pass Manhattan. I am sooo behind at work and cars and even trux are driving like maniax on drugs all around us so Les has to keep swerving and braking every two minutes, but even that can't ruin the mood. I made Les a squish penny at the rest stop that says You are so special to me. As Carly Simon just sang on the McDonald's muzak, These are the good old days.
It's been a long, long time since I felt this fine...