Los Angeles and the Myth of Touring
After leaving the hotel at 8AM this morning we finally rolled into Cerritos, a suburb of Los Angeles, where we played our last gig. We've played here before and the theatre is big and the hotel is pretty comfortable. It was a good one to end on, and even though it was a mid afternoon matinee, the audience were enthusiastic. After the show was over and we'd finished signing, we all came back to the hotel, looked at each other, had a 'shoulders down' moment and drank a toast with a glass of prosecco.
We also met the Ukulele Teacher, who came to the show, he's an English guy now living in LA with his wife, he makes uke lessons online and has squllions of followers on youtube. He's on the ukulele treadmill as well, while we tour, he has pumped out two videos a week, for the past five years - even on his honeymoon! A great cat and very unassuming guy, it was a pleasure to meet him and his wife.
Looking back it has not been a bad tour - possibly a bit frenetic and I'm certainly not getting any younger, but the shows have been full and I think our agent is happy. People often say to us, "Wow, you're going be in LA/Washington/Seattle, you must go to Hymie Wienburgers pancake house or some such place and we nod our heads sagely. It hardly ever happens, because we never have the time, we are always moving.
My latest touring analogy is the washing machine with three settings - performing, travelling and hotel (see drawing above).
In fairness, this is the preference of the band, several of whom have families (inc myself) so we have agreed to get to the territory and then do as many gigs as possible so we can get back home - this tour (1-20 Dec) has been one of the longer ones this year. Last time we were here we had one day off, when we were in Washington, where I managed to get out sightseeing
So it would have been nice yesterday, to have visited my late sister in laws house on Mount Solidad, LaJolla (she was a famous Las Vegas showgirl)
Or today, it would have been nice to have popped over to the house on the Pacific Palisades where writer Thomas Mann (Death in Venice, Magic Mountain, Dr Faustus) spent his wartime exile (recently bought by the German government).
But that, Campers, is showbusiness, and while it might appear we are living the dream, hopefully this tour blog might have helped you realise its a bit more of a Faustian pact than we bargained for. Thank you for reading it and good wishes to you, your friends and families over Christmas and the New Year.
Oh I almost forgot - here is the last pen! Its a Sheraton duplicate (who cares!) we've stayed in twelve hotels on this tour and the pen collecting has helped me protect my sanity a little bit!