Midwest Tour Day 2

Ha.

Holy shit.

I met a lot of black dudes tonight.

Rappers,
real ones!

Let me back up.

I woke up at Donehoo's,
late afternoon, you know.

I hung out with his new baby,
a 9 month old who is awesome.

It's been awhile since I could
actually play with a baby comfortably.

Call me strange, but I don't like holding
stranger's or even acquaintances' babies.

But this little dude?
He's my homeboy.

We went to Kitschn for lunch/breakfast.

And I tell you what,
I've travelled all over,
eating hungover breakfast
with a regularity that would
make you think my appetite ate prunes,
and Kitschn has got to be up there in the top 3.

I got my haircut at a funky little joint across the street,
maybe a bit too short on the side, just the one side,
it wasn't her fault, I thought it was poofing out,
and I hate that, so I had her keep cutting,
and now it looks like I slept on the side
of a lawn mower.

A better day today, overall,
it started off the same, a little melancholy.

I'm not sure what it is,
but it's just funny to be back,
in my old neighborhood,
calling people to see who's free
and who's still here.

It feels like going to my parents'
house around Christmas time.

Nice, but a little sad.

So I wandered around all day,
and finally got ready for my show
out in the burbs.

Durty Nellies,
oh jesus christ.

I played there every Wednesday night
last summer, and this is my grand reunion.

The only problem is,
I played there every week last summer!

I've used up every joke, song,
line, and clever bit I ever thought of.

I've got some new ones,
don't get me wrong,
in a year I better have a few new bits.

But,
I couldn't shake the feeling
that everyone was just waiting
for me to get mean and make fun of idiots.

Well,
that's what I did.

There were these women up front,
holy shit,
they. were. dumb. bitches.

40 plus somethings
celebrating somebody's birthday.

I was ready to have fun with them,
nice, innocent fun,
but they started the aggression.

Oh I don't remember how it started,
but I remember how it ended.

They were walking out the door,
and I was saying,
"bye ladies! good luck with your marriages...."

It seemed funny at the time.

The rest of the show passed as shows do,
a little strange, with fun moments,
and one moron talking his head off in the front.

Old dude, who looked like he was dressed
by a stock boy at Foot Locker,
perpetually ready for any tennis
match that might suddenly appear.

Sunglasses on his head,
the nerdy ones that people wear
while playing volleyball or skiing,
or drinking like a douche in a dark bar.

I can't remember the last time
I let loose such a string of insults
at one man sitting three feet away from me.

And he had no clue.

I thought for one second
he might be deaf,
or actually retarded,
because I've had both
of those unfortunate incidents before,
probably at Durty Nellies.

But no,
he was just a loudmouth
with no understanding of
how a live performance is supposed to work.

whatever,
maybe I'm getting bitter in my old age,
or maybe I just expect people to sit....
oh, I don't know.... anywhere but in
the very front fucking row if you don't
want to shut up and watch the show?

So... I did my best,
tried to anyway,
maybe you were there,
and you can comment on what you thought.

I had a couple beers,
but took it real easy,
because I knew I had to
drive all the way back to the city.

I had been invited by Mike
at Soundscape Studios, (he produced Suburban Highschool, my second
album)
to a launch party for a rapper
named Naledge of Da Kidz in the Hall.

I hope I'm spelling any of that properly.

I'd met Naledge before,
and he's a cool fucking dude.

And I knew I was in for a legit party
when Mike asked me if I was wearing dress shoes.

Dress code?

Hot.

So I rolled in at 2 am,
escorted by Mike,
and the doorman said,
"come on in, Nice Peter."

eh?

I first shook hands with a gigantic bald white man.
Gigantic, like...
I handed him a dead mouse in prison
and he healed it.

"Nice Peter!! so nice to finally meet you."

eh?

We kept walking,
I was escorted by Mike
through the crowd,
rappers now mostly,
with names like "Razorlight"
and "Bugsby" and one vivacious
young lady named,
no kidding,
"Sweet Juices"

Everyone seemed happy to meet me,
and had a look of recognition in their eyes.

Wow... did I feel cool.

It turns out,
Mike at Soundscape has
been making a real name for himself
in the hip hop world of Chicago.

And, Rhymefest,
another rapper and legitimate
underground Hip Hop legend,
put me on his new mixtape.

And,
I wrote a song called 50 Cent is a Pussy,
and Mike plays that for every rapper
that comes into his studio.

so, anyway you slice it,
I was one skinny white dude,
shaking hands and taking pictures
and drinking from someone's
VIP bottle of Grey Goose,
sitting on a couch, meeting
girls named "Sweey Juices"
and "Bubbles"

And then I smoked weed outside,
after I was personally ushered by one of the security
guards, out to the place to smoke weed.

I was with a cool group,
and I took a few hits,
and I went back inside...

and I had to dance.

So,
picture my drunk, silly, high ass,
feeling important and cool, surrounded
by brothers, tearing it up on the dance floor.

Well, as much as I can tear it up,
which basically involves rocking
back and forth and waving my arms
like I'm signaling a helicopter.

So that was that,
and now I'm tired and going to bed.

-p