[o.k. its 8:30 now and instead of my usual three espressos for lunch, I only had one, and that’s on top of the usual two or three for breakfast, and I feel really really good. I actually think I feel less tired and stressed out than when I normally have the three. we had just recently read this study they just completed that showed that men who take caffeine feel and perform much more stressed and confused than participants who didn’t take caffeine but a placebo instead. that’s what led to my recent research. They had assumed that the men taking the caffeine would be more focused and more energetic, and the men predicted the same thing. but the study showed the exact opposite was true. less focus and more confusion and wanting to ‘give up’ at their tasks. But I would assume this is for more cerebral tasks as opposed to merely physical endeavors. Because when I’m working out or snowboarding I definitely feel more focused and energetic. So maybe it depends.]
The other thing is that another recent study showed this correlation between caffeine intake and suicides. Scary. Anyway, I’m going to climb back down now for a while. see what its like on the other side.
Today we were at a meeting at the record company’s in this huge building downtown. i had to go to the bathroom really bad. You know one of those like holy shit I have to PEE now moments. So I excused myself and ran all the way down the hall to the bathrooms. And you’re talking like a mile down the hall. When I got there the men’s room was locked. I was like fuck. I thought about calling the secretary from my cell phone and asking her what to do so I didn’t have to walk all the way back down the hall. But I didn’t. I checked the women’s door and it was unlocked. I looked down the mile long hallway and then at the unlocked women’s bath room door. There was only one thing to do. i opened the door slowly and said “hello” in this high pitched voice trying to sound like a girl. No answer. O.k. cool, the coast is clear. I’m going in. They don’t have any urinals in girls bathrooms, although I’m sure that lesbians will see that that changes soon enough… So I head into the first stall. Close the door. I’m standing there. ahhhh such relief. God that is such a good feeling. ‘please don’t let anyone come in. Almost done. Just a minute more. please don’t let anyone come in… o.k. I’m done. Cool,’ I’m thinking. And then I hear the door open. Oh fuck. What do I do? o.k. jump up on the seat. Try to balance up there for a few minutes. No man, just sit down. Just act like you’re a girl doing your thing. Yeah but anyone can see my fucking shoes are huge. What kind of a girl wears size ten combat boots? Dude whatever just sit the fuck down. Fast. o.k. so I sit down. The girl comes in and sits in the stall right next to me. o.k. that’s weird. Guys definitely don’t do that. we wait until the other guy exists before we will even think about entering another stall. Especially if its right next to an occupied one. oh fuck I’m thinking. this is not good. what if she has to go number two or something. I cannot listen to that. this could get bad. this is not good. I gotta bail. So I stand up to leave, but before I can leave I hear this ladies voice coming from the stall, “goddamnit, I have my period.” I’m like o.k. I am getting the hell out of here now. but then, “excuse me… do you happen to have any pads with you?” by this point I’m already standing up. combat boots and all. now of course I didn’t happen to have any ‘pads’ on me. so I didn’t say anything at all… “Excuse me, I’m sorry, but do you have any pads with you?” she asks again. I open the door sloooooowly. I answered her in this high pitched voice. You know the one, “no. sorry.” And I just bolted out of there as fast as I could. I ran down that hallway fast so if she came out she wouldn’t see it was me in there. man that would be weird. You never know who that could have been. Being in the Sony building and all. Could have been Madonna or JLo or something. imagine if it were JLo and she was doing number two… and then the next time you’re at some party and you see Ben… you’re like ‘uh yeah…jennifer… she’s a very nice person…’
Hey you gotta go when you gotta go. and just because we’re on the subject I have to relay a similar scenario from over the weekend because its even funnier. So me and Bloopy are on our way to rehearsal at my house but we’re stuck in traffic. Infinito is waiting for us. the other guys haven’t arrived. Infinito calls me like three times. he’s left his key at his house. I’m like dude relax man. We’ll be there in about fifteen. He’s like, ‘dude the only thing is that I have to drop a dog baaaaadddd.’ See that’s the thing about Infinito. He lives and dies by his dropping the dog. I look over at Bloopy, ‘Infinito’s at the house. he’s forgotten his key and he’s gotta drop a dog.’ Bloopy just looks at me with this twisted face. ‘gross.’ But we’re used to it from being on the road with him. we have had to pull over in the middle of the night on the road and just sit for like an hour while he takes care of his business and we’re all just sitting in the van falling asleep. He always comes back so happy. and demands to tell us all about. “dudes don’t yo just love when you drop a dog? Isn’t that the best feeling in the world?” and we’re all like, ‘dude, yes. now lets not talk about it.’
So he’s on the phone panicking. “Dude you gotta help me get into your house man. Seriously.’ he says. “I gotta go now man.” ‘o.k. dude listen, try the cat door. You can get in through there.” “dude I already tried. Its locked.” “the cat doors locked? Weird. O.k. dude you have to try my bedroom. Maybe one of the windows are open. You can slide in through there.” “O.k. stand by. I’m walking over there…. no dude they’re both locked.” “Dude try the French doors. See if one is open.” “I already tried them. this place is like fort knox man. Which is good because my drums are in there. bada bing. but I have to go. man I’m just going to pop a squat in your yard.” “Oh c’mon man. that’s gross. Can’t you wait for like ten more minutes?” “No man I have to go. its like diareah or something. I can’t wait…” “Oh my God dude!” I scream, “please spare us the details.” “Infinito is going to pop a squat in the yard I say to father Bloopy. He just gives me this look of horror. “o.k. dude I have to go. Bye” and he hangs up. so we drive on. Five minutes later my phone rings again. It’s Infinito. “Dude where’s your hose?” I’m afraid to answer. “Uh what bro? Please don’t give me any details.” “I’m looking around for leaves, but your yard doesn’t have any big enough leaves. Can you get some bigger trees or what? I have to find a hose.” “Dude that’s gross. Its around the back of the house. Where are you?” “I’m on the side of your house and man its ugly. You don’t want to see it….” “No, you can say that again. I don’t even want to hear about it.” he’s still on the phone. “dude I’m walking around to the back of your house bare-assed with my pants around my ankles looking for your hose… where is it?” “dude its around the back of the house. Please clean everything up man. I can’t rehearse like this.” I look over at Bloopy who still has this twisted look on his face. “He’s walking around my yard naked looking for a hose.” “oh man. This is crazy.”
Now of course stranger things have happened. I am reminded of the time on the road at this gig in Atlanta. We finish the gig. We go get some food. Head back to the hotel. next morning we start on our way down the coast. I go to make a note with my trusted Hand Crafted German Rotring Mini pen that I keep in a pad in my back pocket. But its gone. I spaz of course. We destroy the van looking for it for an hour. finally we remember that I had loaned the pen to Vancouver at the club the night before. so of course we have to turn around to get it. if its not bad enough that we are now driving over an hour in the wrong direction to go get a lost pen, what was really funny is that we are headed towards a closed bar in the morning to go look for a three inch long sliver pen in a pitch dark night club that was left there the night before. but it gets better. Miraculously we do find the pen after some searching. I was a happy camper. And so we were on our way. but then after sixteen hours of straight driving we finally arrive home. it is 3 in the morning and we are unloading the van. We are exhausted. We unload everything from the van but none of Vancouver’s four guitars are anywhere in sight. Somehow we managed to drive sixteen hours in this van and no one noticed that there were four guitars missing. After an hour or so of “searching” the empty van and close to a thousand “oh fucks” from Vancouver I decide that before we all succumb to Vancouver’s unintelligible theory that some thieves broke into the van during a brief stop at the infamous ‘café risque’ strip rest stop (yes this place really does exist) that I would call the club just in case. As it turns out the guitars were there, found right beneath the stage where he had left them the night before. so we drive an hour back to the club to obtain this little pen but no one happens to notice four large guitar cases… that I am sure we all crawled right by numerous times as we crawled across the floor of the club searching for the pen. yes things like this do happen.
Every now and then we get these hits of clarity. I’m sorry God. I will never doubt the process again.