Chapter Twenty Two SILVER BOBS: DECEMBER 2002 PART TWO

Hey kids, move your cursor over the photos for Bobs fun-sized captions!

Dateline: Monday, December 23, 2002 (Continued!)

On the flight from Seattle I notice that the Hammacher Schlemmer catalogue has a Feline Stay Fresh Drinking Fountain... I'd like one of those for ME.... At home, Sitka marks me for a full 10 minutes, meowing happily when I come in the door. I proceed to squeeze him and squeeze him - and he paws me lovingly. (Later next week we'll give him his first bath - and he'll be a complete sweetheart during it!) MRRRRRRRROW! I go through the accumulation of holiday cards, bills and packages that Alex sez he'll wait to open.

Alex and I dine at Maria's - I treat myself to linguine since I've gained no weight in Seattle. I re-pack. We watch the TV he taped during the week, including a few Daily Shows and a new Buffy but I can't stay awake for 24. It is completely unreal when we climb under our big comforter and Sitka purrs up a storm. We set the alarm for 5:30am. Yup, that's life.

Dateline: Tuesday, December 24, 2002

Yeah, baby, here I am, back at LAX at 6:00am! Abandoning the 50-people-deep Starbucks line, I call my brother in Florida. He and his wife are going to London the day after Xmas, their first trip to Europe. I am so excited for him, finally discovering Europe. I so firmly believe that every American should travel abroad, if possible early in their adult lives. I've always made it a priority to see as much of the world as possible, to witness the wonders of faraway places that are just waiting to be experienced. I credit my grandparents with my wanderlust - brave folks who took us on adventures to Colonial Williamsburg and Disneyland and Niagara Falls and the like when we were kids. I don't think the bug bit my brother as badly as it did me... but there's plenty of time for him to catch up. Joe stumbles into the gate area, saying he didn't get to sleep until 2. We both sleep on the plane to Denver, me slouched across my tray table, drooling.

Denver is sunny, gorgeous, crisp. The car we rent is a Ford Monster, unvelievably expensive for two days even though we booked it in October (They know they can get you here, so they do.) Up into the mountains we climb as it gradually clouds over. Past Idaho Springs (I stayed there once with my friend Elana and her two cats as we drove together across the country) and Arapaho (skiied there for the first time with Alex back in 1997 when we went to the Aspen Comedy Festival - he worked for HBO at the time). A headache creeps past my Advil and Evian barriers as we reach 8500 feet in Avon, CO.

The Christie Lodge is full, apparently. This oddly arranged suite hotel, done up in expensive ski bum, boasts train-like bunks in the rooms as well as fireplaces and full kitchens. Richard and I lunch and stash some dinner for later (it's Xmas Eve) at the Avon Bakery and Deli, noticing our scary publicity shot in the Vail Daily (the one with magnifying glasses over our mouths). Back at the hotel I call my former LA roommate Mimi (pronounced Mimmy) who lives in Golden, then uber-fan David McMillen (who's driving up from Boulder) with our schedule for tomorrow so we can make plans.

Xmas Eve (and I do mean ALL of it) is spent in Middle Earth, with Lord of The Rings: The Two Towers. I read the book ages ago on a bus & truck tour of Jesus Christ Superstar through Europe but don't remember it. I have learned by watching this movie that it's entirely possible to be both amazed and bored at the same time in equal portions. And talk about a disaster area - I officially declared the movie a conditioner and comb emergency zone. Monty Python without the funny. I don't think I need to see parts one or three. I'm done! When we exit the parking garage, the attendant hands us a coinlike J.R.R. Tolkien to exit. A-hahahahahahhahahaha! (OK, Richard grunted at that one. Joe didn't get it.)

I light a fire back at the hotel, missing Prometheus Boy (a.k.a. Alex). How odd to be in such a beautiful place tonight, with flurries falling. Alex should be here or I should be home. I burn most of the Vail Daily, soaking in the quiet. My uber-dry skin will have to settle for that tonight.

Dateline: Wednesday, December 25, 2002

I sleep like a log and wake without a headache, miracle of miracles! Dreamt I was auditioning for a community theater production of CHICAGO. The sky is bright blue. It's 10:30am MST when I excavate my shriveled lips from the back of my head (even industrial strength chapstick isn't helping here) and don sunglasses, my Gore-tex jacket, scarf, hat and gloves. I head out for what turns out to be an $11.00 breakfast at Denny's across the street. My mom calls mid-meal from Florida ( "Where are you?"). Alex calls to say Merry Christmoose. Richard comes over to my table to announce his own overpayment for mediocre food and bad service. My headache peeks around the corner. Back at the hotel I slather on body lotion and slather in H20, soak in the hot tub (unfortunately indoor), and watch a pretty but ultimately boring movie version of The Fantastiks on Showtime, falling in and out of sleep.

The Vilar Center is a beautiful structure indeed, and hooray for an onstage oxygen tank! I hang a Santa hat on it as we soundcheck. Somehow dinner is not provided before our 6pm show but they arrange for an after-show outing at Toscanini, the Italian place around the corner. (Ah, that sounded so promising...) The show is fairly quick, and we miraculously sail through the Bach duet, even at this altitude. It's not that hard to breathe but I do need to sit down afterwards, and I just feel like I sound different... The overall vibe here is pretty tame after Jazz Alley, save for the aforementioned uber-fan David McMillen and the huge fan of Bobs fans he brought up from Boulder. They bring us many lovely libations I'll bring home for a big party next month. Mimi meets them in the audience and we all bond in the lobby afterwards. Turns out they have a reservation at the same restaurant (again, sounds promising...).

Upstairs and to the right, past the skating rink in weird little faux-feeling Beaver Creek - I feel like a total outside trapped at Universal Studios - The Rockies. You can smell the dinero in the air... As we wait to be seated at Toscanini (before the experience here turns into a complete fiasco) I call Alex at our friends' place in LA to say Merry Christmoose again. I put him on with Mimi to say hello.

Mimi is most revered chez us for an incident 10 years ago in which she rested both of our stuffed monsters - the big, blue Wild Things - atop her eyelids for about five minutes. When asked what she was doing, she replied, "Sshh, I'm busy." She and I lived with two other guys in a big four bedroom house in Venice, CA from about 9/91 to 4/92, when I moved in with Alex. Oddly enough, three of us had attended Berklee at the same time but never met. Mimi's a reggae tuba player with a cool nosering (when I asked her if it vibrated like crazy when she played the tuba she just grinned). After I moved out, we used to run into each other on December gigs in LA, invariably dressed in embarassing outfits (she with the Belle Air Brass, me with the Holiday Singers). We haven't seen each other in many years and she looks exactly the same. She tells me and Richard there's no scene for musicians here and she makes her living as an artist, custom designing and painting wooden beams in huge homes. Cool! She and Richard swap tuba tales (he played it for about 2 months - something to do with getting out of the draft for Vietnam) as our stomachs internally combust with hunger.

Eventually we are seated - 2 hours after arrival - and the service gets worse from there, despite the restaurant emptying out! Half of the salads arrive at 10:30pm. It gets major league ugly and we all cancel all eleven entrees. The manager is completely unapologetic about the lameness, which is amazing to me. But I guess you can act that way here and get away with it. It's not like we'll be back any time soon... Anyway, thankfully the company was wonderful - David and his friends and family are great folks and it was so great to see Mimi again.

Dateline: Thursday, December 26, 2002

After dreams of memorizing classical music, I'm up at 6:40am - we're driving all the way back to DIA. I wheel my bag through the weird corridors for the last time and we hit Starbucks before the foggy drive downwards. A huge, long-awaited business discussion lasts the whole 2.5 hour ride, and we part. See y'all in 6 weeks in Seattle if all goes according to plan!

I freeze curbside as the check in dude slows to a crawl (I have the huge merch bag)... then find Richard behind me on the subway/tram car to the terminal. He proceeds to scar my brain for life by smiling and dancing like a possessed marionette to the demonic circus music that plays before the terminal announcements. I try to get it on film the second time but he refuses. I curse you, Richard Bob! Who will ever believe me?!?!?!?!

Joe and I "Colonel Klink" to the gate (Bobspeak for bottles of alcohol in the carry-ons), where the flight is both delayed and overbooked. Joe takes the free ticket deal, agreeing to leave four hours later. I'm too tired and have bags checked so I stay the course. It will be so great to sleep for the rest of the week...

Another year of Bobbing comes to a close. It'll be five years since I joined the group come April. Unbelievable. It's been a long, fun, strange trip - and I have a feeling it's about to get stranger.

Wishing The Bobs, our fans, our friends and our agents a happy, healthy, and prosperous 2003,