Sitting here in London at my computer thinking about how to get something posted. I should write Chris Cafiero and ask him. I’ve been meaning to do this for days now. I heard Paul posted about the day the band left from LAX. What a nightmare. I was watching CNN at the Minneapolis airport when the report came in that LAX was shut down due to a person announcing he was a terrorist and had a bomb. Great. I called our new road manager, Scott Harder, to see how they were doing.

“Richie is stuck between American and The Bradley Terminal,” Scott relayed.

“Denny was trapped in one of the buildings for awhile,” he continued giving me the blow by blow.

“I see traffic making the loop now, I think we’ll be okay.”

I was waiting to hear that lovely word: okay. All good. Time to move on.

My flight was in danger of being late, what else is new, but it turned out that most flights were delayed going out of Newark, which I had arrived at in a huff coming in from Minneapolis.

The flight attendant was adamant that some of us might miss our flights. I was convinced we would make it just fine, as they would be delayed. One never knows, though, so travel continues to me a mind fuck.

Communication is the order of the day, every day in Europe, in particular. SKYPE has made it a relative breeze. For the uninitiated, it simply means I can call home and friends, on a regular phone line or to another computer from my computer, for a nominal cost—in fact, it costs nothing if I go computer to computer. I love the 21^st Century; well, at least that part of it.

I’m in a room with Howard Burke, Scott Harder, and Dave Miller, along with a host of computers.

We are connected to the world. A dubious accomplishment. In some ways it’s like having 200 channels with nothing to watch. Constant motion, nothing much going on. Howard’s cell is on the blink. The laundry in the other room is slooooow. Other than that, we are simply in the wait move. Antsy. The world continues to shrink. I feel closer to home than ever. Howard is grinding away, trying to get through the sludge of things he has on his plate—people keep distracting him, myself included, with things other than what he feels he needs to do. Organized chaos, I guess. This is our war room, political in nature. What a glamorous life. ;)

A few days ago we were in Holmfirth, West Yorkshire. A beautiful place on this planet.

Nice people, good food, a concert hall that looked like an old Vaudeville Hall. The backdrop certainly added to that vibe, as did the old Hollywood photos lining the dressing room upstairs, with the likes of Wallace Berry, Judy Garland, and many others. I learn that Scott Harder’s favorite song is “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” His big brother used to sing it to him as a child (he paid him twenty cents every time). I sang it to him for free and he immediately went to sleep. Control has its advantages. Scott, you can wake up now….

Before we went on stage that evening, it was reported that a pregnant woman was going into labour--it turned out she had fallen, hit her head and fell on her stomach. The ambulance came for her, we went on stage, and that was the last we heard of the matter. We all hope she’s doing okay (that word again). If anyone hears anything, please let us know.

It was a wonderful night, though. Great fans, a relaxed atmosphere, the band was on fire.

I wandered about town before the show and took a few photos. I’ll post photos from this tour from time to time. There was some real magic in Holmfirth.

We had been staying down the road in Manchester. The Britannia Hotel had a staircase that must have been influenced by M.C. Escher. Amazing. The rooms were functional, warm water for the shower the first night, hotter than hell the next day. A regular hotel, in other words. Our work was done, we moved on to Ireland. More on that and some other adventures in my next post.

The big show in London is going to take place in a couple of hours. Nice place, very modern, here at the Millennium Dome. We’re going to meet the folks from our European record label, Proper Records. It should be a good show, a good sound check revealed all was well with the instruments, etc. I’ll weigh in more on this aspect of touring Europe in other posts.

Before writing the above, I felt someone tap me on the left shoulder, it was none other than Chris Cafiero! A huge hello, a warm hug, I tell him I have been wanting to get in touch with him since I arrived in Europe a week ago. My question revolves around how to post this. He tells me he can post from anywhere. Lovely. Absolutely lovely.

One last word about something I don’t often talk about. My wardrobe, politics, and what I’m reading. I brought with me a couple of t-shirts from Barack Obama’s headquarters in Bozeman, MT. I was there the night he won the nomination. No one need guess who I’m backing in this election. When I was nineteen years old in 1968, I played a fund raiser for Robert Kennedy in Ventura, CA. The gig was at the Mayfair theater, in May, as it were. Robert was gone in June. I jumped on the Obama bandwagon long before he publicly made the decision to run. I brought out a book on Robert Kennedy called, “The Last Campaign.” A very moving book about a very complicated person and time. I would encourage anyone to read that book. “Nixonland” is another book I recommend, along with Obama’s “Dreams From My Father.” Some light summer reading.

It has been a long road, and I feel more than fortunate to still be seeing that road first hand. I’ll share as much of it with you as I can.

Salute,

Bill Payne

London, July 11, 2008