I Paid My Taxes.

I love the United States.

I bitch about it a lot,
but deep down,
I love it.

I don't feel bad about
giving my contribution,
it makes me feel good
to chip in for my roads,
and my schools, and
my clean, fresh drinking water.

Today,
I paid my taxes.

From 2003.

It was a long, hard journey,
but with a few clicks of a mouse,
I am settled up with Uncle Sam.

And it feels good.

For two reasons:
I don't have the IRS chasing me,
and I have done my part.

But underneath,
I am really upset.

I'm upset because my money
doesn't go to roads, and schools,
and fresh, clean water.

It goes to war.

I had to scrounge every penny,
and squeeze every dime to
afford to pay the IRS $642.48
of back taxes from 2003.

I know there are big companies
hiring accountants and paying
them at least $642.48 per day to figure
out new fancy ways to cheat and
get out of paying taxes.

In the meantime,
I'll do my part,
as an American,
even if it is two years late.

I've learned some new things about America:

Christopher Columbus was an asshole.
Woodrow Wilson was remarkably racist.
And Helen Keller was an active communist.

Who knew?

-p

Iowa Rules

Good News:

The Eagles of Death Metal concert has been rescheduled,
which means I have no tough decision to make,
even though I had made it already.
To stick with the Blues Traveller show,
I've got to have some honor in this cruel world.

Other good news:
Iowa Rules.

After playing 5 shows in four days,
we have concluded that Iowa is very kind to us.
And Mankato Minnesota is also very awesome.

My voice is blown out after an encore performance
of 157 at Lumpy's in Ames,
but all else is good.

Dear Big Guy with Motorcycle Jacket in Des Moines
Who Gave Me Small Bag of Weed on 4:20 as a Tip,

Thank you.

I made a wonderful little joint and smoked in a
McDonald's parking lot while Kristen waited in the car.

She had to drive,
I didn't.

It allowed me to pause and reflect upon the weekend.
And the reflection was clear,
Iowa rules.

-p

decisions

Oh man.

So,
On Friday, May 19,
Kristen and I are set to
open for Blues Traveller
in Columbus, OH.

That's going to be a big show.
We're getting paid pretty well,
with a hotel room and all the trimmings.

I'm very excited.

Today, I get an email
fro a radi DJ named Ted
in Buffalo, NY.

He asks if I'd be interested
in opening for the Eagles of Death Metal.
That's a new band with the drummer from
Queen's of the Stone Age,
Dave Grohl and Jack Black are both
in their music video.

Well... of course I'd be interested.
What date?

May 19.

shit.

well...

dangit.

What would you do?

Keep in mind,
Columbus is a paid gig,
Buffalo is not.

and I already commited to Columbus,
and we're going on right before Blues
Traveller, where as at Eagles of Death Metal,
we might be first of an all day event, I'm not sure yet.

I already know what I'm going to do,
I'm going to stick with Columbus
and let Buffalo slip,
you can't go jumping over the fence
for the greener grass.

I already cancelled one gig for the Columbus show,
it would be dumb to cancel that for anything.

right?

-p

-p

college life

Dear IIT,

Illinois Institute of Technology,

Thank you for making my night.

You were smart,
and you have awesome calculators,
and even though I think I stirred
up some unintended drama in the frat house,
I think everything is going to be very cool.

I'm not sure yet,
but we might be coming back to video tape
a performance at the U Club before the year is out.

top secret.

but I need the video,
because you have inspired us
to keep working to get more college gigs.

Because college...is fun.
Even at a technical school.

This one goes out to Captain Sarcasm,
Dude With the Beard, Kevin, Max, the dude from Cigar's and Stripes,
the drummer dude who isn't 21, that pretty lady with the TI-89,
umm... those people in the corner that I couldn't see, Dan for bringing
us,
the chubby security guard, um.....
those dudes in the front who had the legs stretched,
Mike Cole's sister whom I knew I recognized....
and... technology, for bringing us all together.

-p

A letter...

Dear Deaf Man at Tom's Garage in Appleton, WI,

I'm sorry.

I didn't know.

How could I have known?

When I first noticed you sitting
with your arms crossed,
not particularly reacting to anything,
I assumed you just didn't like us.

When I said out loud that you looked
like you would be good at golf, I meant it,
sincerely... I meant it.

Something about your hair,
it was coifed and blond in a very
Jack Nicolaus kind of way.

I should know,
I had the Jack Nicolaus golf game
for the 8-bit Nintendo.

I know that hair style,
and you had it down.

When I asked if you were, in fact,
good at golf, you didn't respond.

I did not think for one second
that you could not hear me,
I just assumed you didn't want to talk to me.

It was a strange night,
and stranger things have happened.

Lot's of people don't want to talk to me,
but I couldn't understand why not you...?

What had I done to bother you?

I merely asked about your golf game,
and asked again,
and asked again...

And when the lady sitting with you,
said "we can't hear you"

I thought it was a problem with the sound.

Maybe then I should have realized,
but instead,
I just sang louder about golf.

When still you didn't respond,
I thought you were being surly,
ignoring me in the hopes I would go away.

When I jumped off the stage and ran
right up to your table and sang about
golf right in front of you,
you laughed, but it was a strange laugh,
because it went away just as quickly.

I thought then that you were being game,
playing along,
pretending you were surly for the benefit of the show.

I was so happy with you at that moment,
and when you frowned again,
and your wife frowned,
I knew...
you two were good sports.

When I jumped back on the stage in triumph,
and continued to sing about you,
and golf,
and Jack Nicolaus haircuts,
I felt in my heart that everything
was going to be right, fun, together, us...

When you stormed out three minutes later,
I half expected you to come back in,
smiling, to a round of applause.

The whole audience thinking,
"man... what a team player, pretending to be pissed,
for the good of the Nice Peter show..."

But no.

You were really pissed.

And so was your wife.

And it was then,
onstage,
in front of everyone,
that I pieced it all together.

The sound was fine,

you just....

couldn't hear me.

No matter whether I jumped
off the stage right into your table,
or not.

What a moment of realization.

It's the first time,
to my knowledge,
that I have pissed off a deaf person.

I have taken the time
to learn the American Sign Language
sign for "I'm sorry".

And I'm doing it right now.

Now I'm doing the sign for "awkward".

And now I'm doing the sign for "venetian blinds".

-p