Euro Rodeo tour 2008

After 20 hours in transit (much easier the second time around, believe me) we finally got down to playing music. The Café t’ Goor is a posh spot with a stage and a fancy lighting rig. And about 9 people. Small crowd, but spirited. We took the stage almost exactly 24 hours after waking up the previous morning. I think we played pretty hot, but I had a lot to drink. Two women arrived in full on Western get-up, dressed identically and line dancing in unison. Quite a sight. A few people wore cowboy outfits. I appreciate the effort. I walked up to an older gal wearing a cowboy hat and a fringe suede jacket after the set. I said, “Hi, there!” She said, “I am a drug addict.”During our first set of the night, a drunk woman takes an impressive spill in front of the stage and manages to keep her beer glass perfect level and doesn’t spill a drop. During our break between sets, she yells, “Hello America!” and shows us her tits. The privilege of being a cowboy. Nice tits, too. Not a super hot looker, but A- tits for sure.On the drive back to our house, I was telling Gert (the top man at the Surfing Airlines booking agency) that its’ funny to see the line dancers and serious country fans, here, but people consider us a rock band in Seattle. Gert looks a little disgusted and I wonder if I said something to piss him off. He’s tough to read. He says, “Line dancing, fffft! Line dancing is OK on the other side of Atlantic. There is a line for line dancing… and it is in Siberia.”--------------------------------------2 – Rodeo Journal Europe, March 22, 2008 – Yen Wor in FlandersWe started the day with the mysterious discovery of a large purple dildo that turned up under Sugar’s pillow. He seemed shocked enough that I don’t think he brought it for personal use. No one has fessed up to bringing it. I have my suspicions. Anyway, it’s here now and I don’t think it’s going to be leaving us any time soon. We talked about the Dildo Discovery over dinner in Brussels – a truly great city that I’d never really thought much about – and our local fixer, Gert, was shocked. Not an emotional man, he heard the story and saw us laughing and asked, “Really?” Then we’d start talking about something else and he’d raise his hand and said, “Really?!” It went on for three or four minutes with increasing volume until he was slapping the table, “REALLY?!” We probably need to straighten this out with him.Like I said, Brussels is an incredible city. A real world capital. Brussels is a beautiful island full of ancient cathedrals, medieval streets lined with sophisticated boutiques, and – bless ‘em – country music fans. Where Café t’Goor was a posh little spot in the country, Café Dada was a comfortable scuzzy bar in the heart of the city and a great place to come in from the rain and snow. I thought we played pretty good last night, but we were really burning up at the Dada. The only thing really worth reporting is that at the start of the second set, Mason’s fly was open. Not just open but all the way down and just, like WIDE open. After the first song, I leaned in close and said, cowboy-to-cowboy, “Turn your back to the crowd and zip up your pants, genius.”After Brussels, we headed back to the Flemish part of Belgium where the local bar – what is becoming our local bar – was having karaoke night. The place was rammed with young and old people singing their local hits and loving it. I got up and did Pat Benatar’s “Heartbreaker” which is always such a hit at the Yen Wor in West Seattle. West Seattle, yes. Belgium, no. Mason did “I Fought the Law” wearing his black gloves. Also not a big hit. The people wanted the cowboys to sing country. And who came through? Scott Swayze, the Big Molecule (full story on that later). He jumped up and sang Waylon Jennings’ “Good Hearted Woman” and the local folks got exactly what they wanted. We hadn’t heard a peep out of Big Molecule and he brought down the house with his singing. He just nailed it. I was slapping Scott on the back and he got a sheepish look in his eye and said, “I sorta had a karaoke problem a few years ago. I’ve got it under control now, but… it was a 7-night a week thing for a while.”BONUS UNGRATEFUL COWBOY MOMENT: The night before, at Café t’Goor, the pub owner set out plates with knives and forks for us and served us chicken soup and frites. They eat soup off of plates with forks, here. I half expect that tomorrow night we’ll be served hamburgers in coffee mugs with straws.