 |
| Frozen Waves on Lake Michigan |
The first thing I remember about Chicago is the way the waves on Lake Michigan were frozen solid as they crashed onto the lakeside beach. Then, shortly after checking into my double room with Dennis, I wandered down to the lobby looking for Jeff Dexter and some more per diems but was grabbed by Dave and, along with Adrian and Simon King, pushed into a limo. I discovered we were going to a large record store to do a 'meet the fans' thing. There wasn't a huge crowd but quite a lot of fans holding albums they wanted signing. Sonic Assassins Live was not out yet so I wasn't on any of the albums. I was very aware of this fact and so were most of the fans and the proposed idea, from Mr Dexter, that I pretended to be Simon House, was a non-starter. For a start, his hair is rather curly and mine totally straight. And the fans that asked me to sign were much happier when I just signed as myself albeit an unknown name.
We played at the quite large Riviera Theatre and then there was a fairly big after-show party back in our hotel. I got chatting with a rather lovely black girl and went to check out our room but Denis was in there reading and would not be moved so I gave up and went to bed as we had to be up early for
 |
| Where we played in CHICAGO. |
the drive to Minneapolis. For a lot of this drive we followed the river Mississippi which, considering it was more than a thousand, perhaps two, miles from the sea, was already very wide, and although the banks on both sides were frozen, it was still flowing in the middle. The temperatures we had been experiencing were so much lower than anything I had met before in my life and I was having a wear virtually all my clothes to keep warm enough.
 |
| MINNEAPOLIS from St Paul's, its twin city across the Mississippi |
I can only really remember two things about this city : firstly, our hotel was crap and 5 of us decided we would rather drive through the night to get to our lovely looking hotel just outside Kansas City, than stay there. Secondly, when we got to the Union Ballroom where we were playing, the headspace on the stage was not high enough for us to get our lights up and so many of them ended up on the stage just behind us so that we really cooked when we were playing.
After the gig, having left our luggage in the rented Ford Station Wagon, a bit like the tudor Morris Estate but just much longer at the front and back, the five of us set off into the night, down one of these US Interstate highways where, considering the distances involved, the speed limits were ridiculously low. Once we got out into the wilds......the land in the mid-west is flat as a pancake and the highway is dead straight.....we decided to stop for a bite to eat and a drink. We spotted a truck stop with perhaps 30 to 40 trucks parked up and sauntered into the place. The noise dropped the minute we walked in: you could have heard a dollar bill drop. It became pretty clear that the truckers in these parts did not like long-haired freaks and while we were up at the counter studying the menus, various things were thrown in our direction including coffee spoons, crumpled napkins and threats to beat us into pulps. We decided it was time to leave and sprinted back to our vehicle.
We had agreed to share the driving and it was now my turn and I was happy to have something to do alongside taking part in the usual banter which was mainly directed at Dennis who was moaning about not having had a drink. I didn't really notice what speed I was driving and was probably going my usual British motorway speed of about 80 mph when someone shouted 'cop car up on that bridge'. I applied the brakes gently, the road was a bit icy, but the Highway Patrol car came down off the bridge and followed us, sirens wailing and lights flashing. I pulled up on the side of the road and waited as a one policeman approached our car slowly with his gun drawn.
 |
| The good old Highway Patrol Troopers. |
He was wearing the classic cowboy hat of the Highway Patrol and was alone and taking no chances. I wound down my window and he asked me to carefully pass him my papers and I told him they were in my suitcase in the boot/trunk. ","Get out the car slowly," he said, "keep your hands were I can see them and the rest of you stay in the car." We went round the back, I opened the trunk and there was my small suitcase right on the top. Now, I knew that on the top of my things was a big bag of grass but that my papers were in a slim compartment attached to the lid. I started saying to the guy," You'll be a bit surprised because my passport is British and so is my driving licence," just for something to say. But the cop picked up on this immediately saying how much he liked British people and how he had stopped another guy last month who was British too.
He didn't seem to notice how I was struggling to get my papers without opening the case too far as he gave me a history of all his previous meetings with Brits. When I gave him my passport and licence he asked me how fast I had been going. I said, "I might have been going around 70mph as that is the speed limit I am used to on highways." He showed me his radar gun. a small handheld device, putting his pistol down inside the trunk to do so. It displayed the number 78 and that destroyed my argument. However, this guy was a good cop and he liked Brits so he gave me a warning ticket which meant I would only be charged if I was caught speeding again in whatever State it was that we were within. I put on my goody-goody face, shook his hand and got back in the car with a sigh of relief and as I drove off explained what had happened to the others. I also said that in view of the warning, I didn't want to drive anymore so we pulled into the next rest area to change over drivers.
 |
| Driving down a highway in a blizzard. |
By this time it had started snowing quite hard and when we got out for the changeover, we noticed how icy the floor was, we could hardly stand up. So I was doubly glad to not be driving any more and snuggled down in the back seat to try and sleep. I was woken a bit later by the loud shouts of the others as a huge truck went past us sideways, skidding on the ice and snow. The blizzard had got worse and we could hardly see a thing outside except for the occasional truck that seemed to be much too close. Shit, I just wanted to fall asleep and only wake up when we had arrived and tried to concentrate on the photos I had seen of our next hotel, a wonderful place all under a huge glass ceiling and walls, with gardens, swimming pool and hot-tubs all under this protection. That's what we needed, a day of relaxation in this covered palace.
TO BE CONTINUED. Part 5. Fun and games in Cowboy Country, Kansas City and St Louis.
No comments:
Post a Comment