Rick, our singer and guitarist


July 9th through 13th, 2002, North West Coast Breeders Shows


July 9, 2002 - Drive to Reno

We are really excited to get to Reno. I keep telling Matt it's the greatest place on earth; it's got that old-time, 70's era Las Vegas grungy sadness about it, but then there's this fantastic indie rock scene as well. And we have good friends in the band Crush Story whose house we will stay at.

So we labor over this decision, how should we get up there? Take boring old 5 up through the ashtray of California, or the more intriguing 395 north through areas of Nothing on the map and then through the light green area marked "Forest," with the green dots on the map. Green dots mean "scenic." I'm really pushing for the green dots; how many more times in our lives will we get the chance to drive on this road?

Touring is a mix of being astounded that you can be somewhere 2000 miles away from home and recognize the road, even though it's a road that could exist anywhere, I know this road, I recognize this switchback around a mountain, and getting to experience a completely new drive somewhere because you're doing two cities that you've never done in this order.

Die A Modern Death

So for the drive between LA and San Francisco, while we've been up and down I-5 a million times, and it is really cool, it's dangerous at different times in the year; right now it's going to be around 110 degrees, you drive over some mountains to get to this center artery of California and shoot up it. There is just sand, the whole way up, and mountains, if I remember correctly. In the middle, there is an oasis of McDonalds and I think Burger King, and a scary wooden store with expensive water. And it's always a million degrees around there. You get the feeling that you could be trapped forever here in the desert, living out the rest of your life at this McDonald's, paying for hamburger meals 3 times a day until your money runs out and then you die a modern death, not from lack of food or water, but for lack of money to buy them.

Even though it's going to be 115 degrees through a desert which may not include a McDonald's, the guys appease me and we are going to drive up 395! Woohoo!

So first, there is desert, hot, hot, hot desert. We stopped in a town that had an ice-cream stand and another that had a fast-food restaurant whose doors were painted black so I could not even open them. I have never felt such oppressive heat before! I really love it! It feels like God is hugging my body, pressing down on it so hard that I am safe. (even though I don't believe in her.)

Plus, it's a dry heat.

395, a thin red line on the map, isn't as disconnected from the earth as a normal highway. I feel like I can pull the car over to the side and stop and sit in the tall grasses. There aren't a lot of cars on this road either; we're pretty much alone on this drive. We are driving through towns with air forces and naval bases, so the characters around look pretty tough. As we continue up, trees start appearing, in the middle of a bunch of grey shrubs all of the sudden you'll see a big, bright green deciduous tree, looking very artificial. Then, more and more trees, and then towns, and all of the sudden, I find, a bit sadly, that I need to switch the map atlas page to Northern California Towns. Thus officially ends the pc Southwestern part of the tour for July 2002. We're now in the Northwest.

Still driving

There's really NOTHING on this road! Just gorgeous scenic views, mountains, sedimentary rock formations, green pastures, cows, sunsets. Matt and I continually snap blurry pictures of mountains out the windows. I look at the sunset, violet, orange, magenta through my own eyes and then look at it through the camera viewfinder and I know, even by experience, that there is no way to capture what this looks like. How can you capture what it feels like to have been driving for 10 hours through gradually changing terrain on a day off, no music except the remnants of what you've played the night before in your head, but all around us is music, plants growing in beats, trees in accents. What the fuck am I writing. I think I need a ghost writer or something. I feel like a poseur. Maybe I need to go to writing school or something.

Anyway, see, there's no way, at least no way for me, to capture this experience for you.

We pull into Reno at around midnight, to Jim and Andrea's house, two rock scenester kids. Jim's band Crush Story recorded at our home in Champaign, at Rick's studio - and I missed it because I was in Florida with that Egret and my family. Anyway, Jim shows us around his home, and Matt goes out gambling. There is a turntable with music always playing in this house, tons of vinyl records, a wonderful carpet, and futon and friends. I have such a feeling of security and warmth in this house and I am so tired, I just lay down in a corner on the carpetted floor, head resting on sleeping bags, listening to the music and voices, and I feel very, very happy.


July 10, 2002 - Reno, Nevada

Jim and Andrea

I am beginning to realize something about Jim Bowers and his friends - I never seem to hear anything negative come out of these peoples' mouths. They seem to be really, really happy people. I am not sure I've ever met people like this. Most people you meet will complain about something or other, but I don't hear it from these people. Even when they talk about politics; like, when we talk about politics, we will usually talk about what is going wrong, asshole president this, asshole congressmen that, dumb new laws, etc. Even when these people talk about politics, they talk about the good things that are going to happen in the future. I hope when they read this that it does not embarrass them. I just feel like I've found a point of light on the map of the US here, like a bright star that has fallen to the ground. I still remember getting water out of their sink faucet and Jim saying, "Oh, the water is really great here - you can drink out of the tap!" And that water tasted better than any water I've ever tasted.

I guess I'll just write about the show first; we played with two Reno bands, one called The Atomics and the other called Big In Japan. And there were TONS of kids there. Maybe Jim is the king of the scene or something here, (and he ought to be, if there needs to be such a thing) - but everything we do here seems to be like a big friendly party with really happy people at it.

I wish I could live like this, with just this incredible genuine positivity. How would our lives change if we lived like this? The water I tasted coming out of the tap could have just tasted like regular water, but to hear from someone that it's really good, I believed it was, and it was. What if we went around saying and thinking that our band is a great, great band - what if we just acted like that, and like everything around us was so positive? I wonder if we could change external circumstances that act upon us, through internal changes? I wonder if we could move mountains and hills with our minds.

Thank you Jim and Andrea and everyone in Reno. We love you.

Lake Tahoe




Oh yeah, and then there's Lake Tahoe. What I say is the one of the most beautiful places on earth. 45 minutes away, up the mountains, from Reno, 6000 feet in the air is the surface area of crystal-clear mountain run-off, a very cold, very deep lake. You can see clear through to the bottom of this lake, so I stand in the freezing water, staring down at my toes, watching a crawdad slink beneath some rocks, stepping into a mound of pyrite. The lake bottom at the beach we're sitting at is filled with different colored rocks, black, red, white, granite, quartz, and iron pyrite sparkling everywhere underwater as I walk. Rick sits under a tree, burning the tops of his feet. I slather Baby Faces 50 SPF™ all over my entire body with extreme mindfulness so I don't end up with red lines all over my body looking like a roadmap. Jim tells us we have to be very careful because up at 6000 feet in the air it's very easy to burn. We floated around in Lake Tahoe, collecting rocks and talking for a couple of hours, this is one of the best tour days ever.

This beach on Lake Tahoe is a National Park, which means there is no McDonald's, no sports store selling Lake Tahoe Thong Bikinis, no Hooters On The Beach, no nothing here except huge rocks and huge trees. It almost looks barren without a big Golden Arches at the end of the beach, it's very comforting but also unsettling that its starkness is unsettling. it almost feels like there's something wrong here, that no one is trying to get our money away from us in exchange for something we don't need.

 



Reno at night

Matt has won a total of US$70 at the craps tables during our stay here. He goes out at night when the rest of us are asleep and plays craps, and then comes back with extra money. I was terribly worried the first night, but now I'm not too worried. We keep joking that we'll just give Matt the band fund and he can double it for us.


Sticker Guy

When you need stickers, call Sticker Guy - they are famous providers of Rock Stickers. We got to tour their establishment, and they gave us some free stickers! We felt so cool - they are like the rock stars of the design world! Look for more Poster Children stickers in the future - I'm totally sold on the idea of stickers now!

For some reason,this sticker really makes me crack up...


July 11th, 2002 - San Francisco

Nice audience shot. These are BIG shows.


San Francisco Hell

Jim the Reno promoter wants to come with us, and we want to take him, but there is that Drive coming up, the drive after tonight, where we play a show in San Francisco, load our equipment out, and get in the van and then drive to Seattle, load the equipment out of the van, and then play a show. Everyone in the van is going to get a seat to lay on, but if there's an extra person, someone will have to sleep on his shoulder.

I wish we had taken him though, because there is probably some sort of vortex between Reno and San Francisco where all the good energy is sucked up and never gets to SF. Maybe Sacramento is a diode that only allows happiness to pass east and anger to pass to the west.

We drive through a lot of parked cars, probably pass two hours worth of traffic entering SF, thanks to an HOV lane, 3 or more passengered cars can drive in this lane. It's astounding that people don't just grab others to drive in their cars with them; that was the worst traffic I've ever seen in my life.


A cold grey fog is rolling in and the temperature has dropped for us from 110 degrees to 60. This is the coldest it's been for us for 2 weeks; each day we've had above 100 degree heat. Angry people walk back and forth along the hilly streets of San Francisco wearing leather jackets.

Don't bother doing your job

We get to the club, and they are alternately mean and nice to us in such extreme ways that my head is feeling seasick like I've been in a punching battle all night. We pull up to the club and 5 huge guys stand around watching us load our equipment into the freight elevator at the club, while I stare at them. They are obviously paid to help load our equipment in, and instead they're standing around dumbly oogling us and smoking pot. And for some reason, I'm getting angry at them for doing this. I don't know why I should be angry at someone else for not doing their job. It's up to them how they want to live their life, I don't need help loading my gear in. Maybe I'm just upset because they guy who is paying them is obviously not getting his money's worth.

It's funny and sad to watch people lie

Now we're loaded in. The rules are that we cannot sell our own merchandise; the club is going to sell it for us, but there is no room for us to put up all our shirts, so they will kindly sell only a couple of our products for us and we are shit out of luck if we want to sell the others. And they will kindly take 30% of our merchandise, even though they have a deal with the Breeders that they will only take 25%. And at the end of the night, the woman who sold our stuff completely ripped us off. I swear I gave her the benefit of the doubt, but I watched as she squirmed and sweated and displayed all of the classic telltale signs of lying as she told me "Gosh hon, you only sold 2 shirts. That's good, isn't it?" We usually sell between 5 and 10, and here in San Fransisco, with a sold-out 1250 seat theater, I think we should have sold closer to 10. Still, I gave her the benefit of the doubt, as she shook and said quickly, "you know what, let me just tear up this paperwork, ok hon, and we won't take any percentage at all, is that ok? Ok hon?" Squirm, squirm.

I really don't think she was trying to rip me off, I think she just lost a count and since it's her policy to count out all the Bigger Bands before the tiny band, we are going to be the ones who get fucked. So we did, and it's my fault for not counting the shirts myself. It's ALL my fault.

When we get down to the van later on, we find out that Rick's friends bought two shirts. And I saw someone else buy one. So I know we sold more than 2 shirts.

Performing the job itself should be the reward

It's just funny to watch people lie, when you know they are lying. It's funny and sad. And also it's funny to watch people not do their jobs. I just emailed a friend here the other day saying that we do not do our actions in order to be "paid back." We perform, we play music, we do our daily routines not for repayment, but because we love to do these things. That is the correct way to live your life; the action itself is the payment. We play music because we love to do it, not because we're paid to do it. This is actually written in a sutta somewhere anyway; my TKD instructor is always harping on this issue.

Lesson Of The Day For You: Live your life and perform your actions just for the sake of doing them. Don't expect or wait to be paid back for anything.

Good Points About The Fillmore:

1) It's beautiful; huge chandeliers hanging everywhere

2) Our choice of dinner tonight from the band menu: Swordfish or Filet Mignon. I am NOT kidding!

3) Great stage and soundsystem, nice soundman

4) Nice backstage area; we got to hang out with Mike from Steel Pole Bath Tub and Dave from Pond and watch the Breeders in box-office seats high up like we were watching an opera.

5) Mostly nice people who work here.

6) The club provided us with really nice posters that said the names of the 3 of our bands!

7) Most likely, we'll never be able to play here again. It's unfortunate, but then again, I hate clubs that treat opening bands like scum.

Steel Pole Bath Tub Update

Mike from Steel Pole Bath Tub was at the show today, so I got an update. He says they are releasing an album of songs that Slash (record label) deemed "Unlistenable" - their demos. We are VERY, VERY excited about this. I want them to tour and take us on tour with them in America. Wouldn't that be fun? That would be a Damn Good Show! Mike is also hard at work on The Matrix 3 - and he told me a bit about what he's working on now and I am not going to tell you. He's a head animator, like the guy who supervises all the lower animators; his name appears in the credits on the Lord of the Rings movie and he went straight from there to work on The Matrix 3. And here I am telling him to go back on tour with Steel Pole Bath Tub.

We had a really great night hanging out with old friends - a friend of Rick's from grade school came - someone I'd heard about forever but had never met. Other rock scene guys from Champaign who were out in SF too; we all had a good time hanging out in the VIP areas of the Fillmore. I guess it's a nice place.

pictured above: Mike from Steel Pole Bath Tub, Dave from Pond


And now it's time to get into the van, right after the show, and drive overnight to our next show in Seattle, get out, and play the show. No stops!

More of us than there are of you.

As we were driving out of town, windows wide open, in yet another traffic jam, sick to death of this San Fransisco Hell-Hole, ready for our 12-hour drive to the show tomorrow night, I notice a huge black guy in an SUV within touching distance of us is screaming at me. He's screaming at me because Rick isn't letting his SUV budge in front of us. He's calling me a bitch, screaming at Rick for disrespecting him. Rick is going to get us killed; this guy is really, really, really angry, it looks like a Spike Lee movie where we are on the wrong side. I'm suggesting to Rick that he lets this guy do what he wants because I'm getting a bit afraid, and Rick says something like, 'There are more of us in this van than there are in that SUV.' Rick does not have that built-in suburban racism that stops him from offending people like this; he's going to uphold justice until we get into a fight and die. "This man is yelling at me before I have even done something wrong," Rick says. The man is obviously in a hurry, and ends up being able to cut in front of someone else many cars up, but you can still hear his voice roaring and echoeing through the tunnel, still screaming at us.

It's just really weird that there are people in the world who would rather be assholes than nice. I guess we come from the midwest, which is kind of a world where the default is just to Be Nice.

As we're driving up to get onto 80 leaving the city going north, with no advance warning, the exit is closed. We had to drive about 45 minutes around the city just to get out. Imagine that. You cannot drive north on I-80 out of San Francisco. Recognize that road? It goes clear across America to New York, but you can't drive on it in San Francisco.

Kim stays after the show to shake peoples' hands and give autographs

 


July 12th, 2002 - Overnight drive, then Big Seattle Show!

I won the after-show drive, (whoever really wants to drive usually gets to) so I drove and drove from 3am to 8:30am, SF to Near the Northern California border. I put caffeine in my system in order to do this; I had a Red Bull. I remember hearing Dr. Dean Edell, the radio talk-show doctor, tell people that it's ok for them to do speed in order to stay awake while driving. So I took some caffeine.

I don't do drugs

About drugs; I probably haven't written about this for a while. I had a "pep talk" from my Tae Kwon Do Instructor about a month ago about how I shouldn't do drugs. He saw me play on the stage and probably decided that I do drugs. He seems to think a lot of people do drugs. Anyone who is acting strange, he decides, is on drugs. Anyway, I thought about how to tell him that I don't do drugs, for about a week, and then finally emailed him to tell him I don't do drugs. It's a hard thing to discuss, because maybe he doesn't even think about it or care, and maybe it's none of his business, or worst case, maybe if I tell him I don't do them, he'll think I am lying. Anyway I decided that I wanted him to know that I don't do drugs, so I told him.

And I'm telling you too, incase you care. I don't like putting chemicals into my body that change my mind, and I know that food is made of chemicals that change my mind, but you know what I'm talking about. My first experience with alcohol was when I decided to do an experiment, and I sat down on a Saturday night, drank a glass of wine every half-hour, and recorded how I felt into a notebook. I remember that I did this while Dr. Who was on the TV set. At the end of the experiment, I thought I heard a bell ringing, and the world was spinning, and I threw up in the toilet. The next morning I told my dad what I had done, and he said "You are a very odd child."

Now, I don't look down on people for doing drugs. (At least I know I shouldn't look down on them.) I just choose not to.


Static

But anyway, so I drank some caffeine tonight after the show and drove for hours through the night, thinking and listening to static on the radio. That should alarm anyone; I can listen to static for hours on the radio, and not notice that it's static.

The sun rose over the northern California mountains and I was able to watch Lake Shasta pass me as we continued up 5 to Seattle area. That was a nice gift; to be able to do this drive while the sun was up; that area is very beautiful. As I drove, my mind got more and more fragmented and disconnected from itself and when that happens to me, that's when I start getting good ideas. I guess some people drink or do drugs in order to enhance their creativity; since I cannot do that, my only creativity-enhancing drug is sleeplessness.

Shakespeare and McDonald's

When I finally stopped somewhere and decided I'd had enough driving, I pulled into a McDonald's parking lot and sleep-walked into the bathroom and sat on the toilet. I closed my eyes and when I did this, I saw amazing multicolored patterns and I just sat and watched them for a while. I opened my eyes and they went away. Closed them again and the patterns were back. I wondered how the caffeine was still affecting my system. My 'religion' would tell me to explore how my body feels right now. Anyway, I stumble out of the bathroom back into the McDonalds and notice that there are Shakespearean costumes up on all the walls of the restaurant, and pictures of stage actors. The entire menu up on the front board above the cashiers is written in an Old English font. I left the McDonald's, disturbed.

I tried to sleep when others drove but ended up too hungry. Then we stopped in Eugene at Govinda's, a Hare Krishna restaurant - that was pretty ok. Then continued up the coast to Seattle. We drive past Boeing and I start my Entering Seattle Ritual of making fun of Kurt Cobain for killing himself.

Seattle!

seattle audience left side

seattle audience middle

seattle audience right side

Our Seattle audiences have always been fantastic. I guess the radio station up here may have played one of our songs, back when we were on Reprise. So lots of people up here know who we are; it's great. The audience at the Showbox today was terrific - they looked so happy as we played! I was very, very tired on the stage though, from that overnight drive. And this is such an important show- we are 2nd today, on right before the Breeders. We get to play 45 minutes instead of 30. And we are tired.

But I think we played ok. I overcompensated. I did a backwards somersault on the stage and hit myself in the head with my bass. I overspent my energy - it's like I took out an energy loan or something! There was extra there where there shouldn't have been. But people liked it.

These shows are cool because we have so many new people seeing us - and older fans who thought we'd broken up a long time ago. As much as I love our old fans, I love new faces too. i wonder though, if we came back next month, would these new people come out to the show? Are these shows helping us gain more fans? I hope so! It's so much fun to play to 1000s of people each night, especially knowing that these people have great taste in music because they like the Breeders! This is such a great tour for us.


July 13th, 2002 - Portland, Oregon

Experience Music Project, morning in Seattle

Damn! I've never actually been inside a Frank Gehry building! In fact I've never been this close to one; the other one I've seen was when we were doing a Salaryman tour in Spain and we had just enough time to drive to Bilbao to drive past the new Guggenheim. That's what we did; didn't even stop.

Today we had a good hour and a half to go to the Experience Music Project though, so we went, with our old friend Greg from Champaign. The EMP is next to the Seattle Space Needle, the structure I blame for all the Seattle heroin misuse - (I always say that if people wake up each morning and look out their window and see that huge Space Needle, how could they stop from wanting to shoot up all the time? It'd be like living next to a huge waterfall, you'd have to pee all the time.)

The EMP is pretty scary-looking when you first drive up to it. There are buildings and amusement rides all over the place, hills and trees, so it's pretty obscured, but you are aware that there is a huge bubble-like shiny, translucent-looking spaceship curling in on itself somewhere off in the distance behind a couple of billboards. With a monorail running through it. Part of this building is light blue, my favorite color, and the other part is a shiny rainbow-color that seems to change color depending on where you stand. I personally feel like it's very frilly-looking, like, why have all that extra crap on the outside, it's very decorative and not very functional, but I know nothing about Art or Architecture. I Like the building, it just isn't something I would create if I had the chance. Too frilly for me, too much extra, unnecessary stuff.


Anyway, the inside is filled with television sets. Everywhere, music is booming and TV sets are blaring. It's like being inside a giant U2 video. I would like to play here at some point; this place gives me a feeling that any music played inside of it would sound good to anyone.

We got in free here; the cost is $20. We're very lucky to know people who could get us in. It makes me feel very special. The first thing we were directed to do was to go onto the Funk Ride. So we did - it was AMAZING!! It was a giant flight simulator where you learn about The Funk. First you see a short movie about The Funk, with old funk players getting back together for a reunion to put music tracks on top of some vocals by James Brown. The older guys were all together in a studio, brought together by the EMP, but James Brown wasn't anywhere around there; he'd already recorded the tracks somewhere else. We thought that was funny, because we know that James Brown is famous for being a really mean guy. Docking you if you screw up your part. Firing you if you've made 3 mistakes; something like that.

The Funk Simulator

After you watch a short movie in a room with TV sets in a line around the top perimeter of the walls, you go into a small room where you spiral around a large decorated boot, probably what Bootsy Collins would wear. We're in this room, walking up this staircase with a bunch of tiny white girls and their parents, a very stark contrast to the colorful costumes that the featured musicians wear. I wonder what these little Brittany Speers loving girls think when they look at George Clinton who looks more colorful than a Disney character. Maybe he just looks like a cartoon to them too.

Then we go into the Funk Simulator, where we sit in rows of seats attached to a motion-base system, and then the lights go out and we move forward, and there's a huge Funk Video and the motion-base system makes us feel acceleration in all the right places as we whip around a street scene of a bunch of musicians playing funk. We're inside a huge funk video. It was REALLY, REALLY COOL. I loved it! It was very cheesy too; we were warned that it would be cheesy, anyway.

It's neat to ride one of those simulator rides, but then to attach it to music, I think, really hits you in a special place.

Then upstairs there are hands-on recording studios, with people learning to play music and touching instruments for their first times in their lives. It was really fun to watch, although now I wanted to play music more than I've ever wanted to in my entire life! I am so glad I will leave this museum to go play a show. I feel sorry that the most of the other museum patrons won't get to do that!

Husker Du, Devo, Michael Jackson, and Jim Morrison, who was a Small Man

The rest of the museum was pretty cool; the greatest thing they had was a metal airplane from the cover of the Husker Du record "Metal Circus." And they had lots of Northwest Bands stuff; it's always neat to see a mention of a friends' band in a museum where normal people go - there was a Pond poster in there. There was a hat from the band Devo, and Michael Jackson's sequined glove. There was a snakeskin jacket that belonged to Jim Morrison, man, that guy had to be a very, very small man. That jacket was TINY.

Rick and Greg


Portland Show

Matt takes care of setting up merchandise

Now I'm tired. I can feel myself slipping. But I also feel relaxed. I got up the nerve to kid with Kim today and talked to her after her soundcheck for a while. She studied Biology in school! I said, "Well, looks like you're using it." We joked around for a while - talked about what we're going to do on the two days off coming up. I told her about Rick bringing his bowling ball along. I said we should all go bowling in Boise Idaho. I told them how we went bowling with the Buzzcocks years ago in Omaha Nebraska. We have video footage of this.

Then all the rest of the Breeders came by (the guys from Fear!) and we did t-shirt and record exchange; they all wanted Poster Children shirts and we all wanted Breeders shirts. Kim is going to dye her Poster Children shirt blue, she says. I was so proud that they all wanted our t-shirts! And they took some CDs too - Kevin, their manager, already has Poster Children and Salaryman shirts. It is so nice to be liked, especially by such a fantastic band. What kind of wonderful karma repayment we are getting right now. What did we do to deserve such a great thing?

I'm having a problem tonight on the stage where I cannot bounce around enough. I want to dance more, but my feet won't come off the stage. Maybe the extra energy I spent last night was now owed from tonight. Or maybe there just wasn't enough room on the stage. People seemed to like the show anyway. The new songs are starting to work better now. I am so glad we're playing them live before we record them!

Best quote of the night, some death-rocker kid comes up to me after the show: "You guys weren't that bad." Thanks, kid.

Radisson

After a 45-minute drive around Portland because I-5 is closed everywhere, we end up at the Radisson Hotel, 3 minutes from the venue. Thrasher Presents, the promoters who did this show, have a deal with Radisson here that allows us to pay $10 less than what we paid for our Motel 6 the other night. 4 of us in a beautiful Radisson room, all of us get beds.

There is a hum that permeates through all of the most expensive hotel rooms; a spaceship whine that you don't hear in Motel 6. Any moment, this expensive hotel could lift off into space.

Bathtub

I laid in the bathtub holding my Radisson™ Exfoliating Oatmeal and Almond soap, thinking about Kim Deal for about 45 minutes, wondering if she smokes in the bathtub. Girls in the audiences have papers attached to their backs saying "Kim - Make Out With Me!" Does she like women? I don't think so, and there's no talk about this kind of stuff. I never know or care about this kind of stuff, anyways. But I laid in the bathtub water, watching my soap disintegrate, wondering if she smokes in the bathtub, until Rick started pounding on the door saying he was "touching cloth." (By the way, I don't think Kim is gay. Matt asked her and she said "no".)


July 14th, 2002 - Drive to Boise

We are laying in a Super 8 (fancy!) laughing our asses off from all the jokes we've told each other today. We've been thinking about what it's like to be a Breeder today, talking about what they might be doing all day, and whenever we do Theatre of the Mind like this, we end up laughing ourselves silly. Then tonight we just watched Sixteen Candles and for some reason, Matt thinks it's funny that I got all teary-eyed at the end of it and it's making him crack up. He seems to get confused whenever I act like a girl and it makes him laugh. He's laughing so hard, in fact, that he has to go get his asthma inhaler. Rick, also laughing, is saying that the funny thing is that the Deal sisters are also sitting in a motel room right now, one on each bed, smoking, and teary-eyed from the end of watching the same movie.

Life did get better. Less people laugh at me now. And I laugh more.

This movie - as most John Hughes movies - was filmed near my home town, and parts of it really hits home. There is especially one part, where the Geek goes to dance with the lead character, Molly Ringwald, and she doesn't want to dance with him. It makes me remember how unpopular I was in highschool; there was one case where my parents forced me to go to a dance, and at this dance, as I sat on the sidelines, watching the popular kids and hoping none of them would notice me and come over and make fun of me, one of the more popular boys actually came up to me and asked me to dance. "Would you like to dance?" he said, and I couldn't believe my ears, I said "yes" shyly, and then followed him onto the dance floor. He turned around and saw me follow him and in a panic, fled, laughing. Apparently, after he said "Would you like to dance," he had said, "Well, go ahead then and dance" and pointed me toward the dance floor. His idea was that he was going to split on me then, but I hadn't heard him, so I didn't know he had even played this joke on me, and I kept following him. I was appalled, horrified, and laughed at. My girlfriend later said to me, "That was so cool how you just pretended you didn't hear him make fun of you."

I had such a terrible time when I was in highschool, up until my senior year, when I discovered punk rock and it saved my life.

I have to wonder, sometimes I really look back on those days and think to myself, I wish those people could see me now. And shit, they'd probably still make fun of me, and I'd still feel bad. But maybe not. Maybe I'd be standing on a stage.

photo by David Forest McGrath, http://home.earthlink.net/~portlandia/index.html

Anyway, it's a good lesson for everyone; life really evens out when you get older. It just keeps getting better and better.

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