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2003-06-01 - 11:52 p.m.

Supposedly, there is a reason for everything and I don’t know why my week seemed so shitty but tonight made up for a lot of it.

First, I was packed and ready to go on tour with the Polyphonic Spree. I was gonna visit my folks and then meet up with the great Spree in Austin. I dropped off my cds at my day job which is not far from Penn Station. I went back to Brooklyn to get the rest of my things and called my agent to see if I could get some money from a show the previous week. I was broke. In the hole broke.

I called and she says, “I got bad news. Part of the tour has been postponed. New Orleans, Atlanta, Philadelphia and the first Boston show.”

My heart sank. I’d already sublet my room. I wanted my good times to start. So, I went back to work and finished out the day and went on to the Mission to make grilled cheese. The night was good and I made new friends with my Foreman griller. So, the next night I reserved for sulking.

Then, my cell phone broke. Then, my service got shut off. Sprint sucks. My $34 plan is costing $200.

So, Saturday, I tried writing songs and couldn’t. I’m too fucking sad sack. I went to Magic Brian’s and drank and ate some cookies and chips. That was cool.

Today, I felt sick. I just laid in bed all day trying to get better.

Then, Jake called, “Hey, Mo. What are you doing tonight?”

“I don’t know.”

“I got two 5th row seats to David Lee Roth!”

“I’m in.”

When I did my first show fronting a band in high school, I went to Blockbuster the day before the show and rented a David Lee Roth video that had “Yankee Rose”, “California Girls” and brilliant commentary by The Picasso Brothers in between. I studied his moves and kicks and tried some out at my first show as a singer.

The first time I heard Van Halen was in 9th grade and my friend Alvin sent me a copy of Van Halen at the ’83 US Festival. It had an interview with Dave that I’d memorized that summer.

“Bopbopbopbop Van Halen in Glen Halen regional park baby. Sea of faces, oceans of beer, heard you missed me I’m back, Diamond Dave is here.”

Are you going to do anything different tonight?

“I’m getting the tailor lady to suck the air out of my cups. That way you can see what you’re getting for your twenty smacks baby. But it’s undulating.”

“I’ll tell you what. It’s doesn’t matter if you win or lose. It’s how good you look, honey.”

It’s cool to finally see someone that you’ve admired for so long and ripped off.

And it’s cool to be in a place where there are 30 and 40-somethings that haven’t changed their look for 20 years. I felt a good normal.

I tried to write his set list but I was too into it.

Here’s what I remember

Hot For Teacher

Mean Streets

Just Like Livin in Paradise

Runnin’ with the Devil

Girl You Got Me

Ice Cream Man

Crazy From the Heat

California Girls

Ain’t Talkin’ Bout Love

Dead or Alive

Panama

Dance the Night Away

Everybody Wants Some

Cradle Will Rock

He encored with Jump.

He did 2 jumps off the drum riser. He did his karate kicks. He talked to the ladies. He had a rhinestone cowboy jacket, a rhinestone cowboy shirt, leather pants, and a shitload of bandanas. He fucking rocked that crowd. Some of that crowd was tired, sitting but smiling. And he rocked me. I smiled real big watching one of my heroes up close, throwing my fists in the air, clapping above my head, forgetting why my week was shitty.

 

 

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