Excepts
From Ian’s Tour Diary
Please enjoy these excepts from Ian Apple’s tour diary, pieced
together from the ramblings he jotted down on cocktail napkins and children’s
placemats from roadside restaurants.
January 02 - Denver, CO
Good crowd last night. Americans are always very enthusiastic. One bird
lifted her shirt and showed us her earthas. I said “top down luv,
you're not at mardi gras and we're not gonna throw you any beads.”
Later I saw that same bird coming out of Simon’s room and I know
he shagged her rotten. I warned Simon not to get involved with a local,
because that just leads to trouble. He said piss off, it’s just
a bit of posh, nothing to write home about. I say fine, but if he gets
a pubic illness, I’m going insist he use seat covers on the rick
from now on. I think that’s only fair.
January 06 – Wilmington, DE
Photo op today with that kid who's got cystic fibrosis or Babe Ruth
disease or something like that. I must remember not to scream if the
lad touches me, that seems to make people mad. But it can't be helped-
handicrippable people give me a bit of a pain in the gulliver. I mean
to me, 'legless' still means gettin' bloody elephant's at 2 for 1 pint
night at the pub. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for wheelchair ramps,
but I saw that movie about the guy who only had one left foot and he
did NOT look like a fun bloke to hang around with, know wot I mean?
January 10 – Cincinatti, OH
Okay, memo to me, I’m never going back to the FUCKING “Outback
Steakhouse” again. I mean I didn’t even wanna go to the
goddamn place, but when we’re in the states, Shaggy ONLY eats
in family style restaurants, because he’s convinced that all the
other places throw the food on the floor and let it get all covered
in bugs, etc. So we’ve been to every “Applebee’s,”
“T.G.I. Friday’s” and “Chili’s”
in the whole bloody country. And tonight the only place open after the
show is the Outback Steakhouse. And already I’m unpleased, because
I know Australians, they’re not the most hospitable people in
the world and their cuisine is bloody awful. You ask for a sarnie (sandwich)
and you get like a koala bear squished in between two pieces of bread,
right? Bloody Australia, they might as well still be a penal colony.
Anyhow, we get to the Outback Steakhouse. They’re all out of everything,
right? Can I have the salmon? No you may not. We’re out. French
fries? Non, monsieur, we’re out. Spare ribs? Can’t spare
any- because we’re all out. Caesar salad? Well let me tell you,
you can hail Caesar, but not his salad- because they don’t fucking
have it at the Outback Steakhouse! If that place is the best the Ozzies
have to offer, they should have stuck with Paul Hogan and Olivia Newton
John. At least he’s sort of funny and she’s got a nice pair
of bristols. Well, she did in the 70’s, anyhow. I haven’t
seen her in a while and I heard she had cancer or something, so she
may not be looking quite as “physical” these days.
January 14 – Worcester, MA
Spent all day in the hotel room, eating vanilla wafers and watching
“Quantum Leap” on the tele. I think I’ve finally got
it. See, when the bloke leaps into the past, he LOOKS like the guy he
leaped into, right? Everyone he meets thinks he’s the guy from
the past, but WE see him as Captain Kirk (or whoever he plays on Star
Trek). So that’s how come he can leap from time period to time
period and not have people going, “Oi, you’re captain kirk,
what’re you doing here, mate?!” Because he LOOKS like someone
else. That’s bloody marvelous, I love it. It’s a great show
and a LOT better than “Battlestar Galactica,” which totally
confuses me. I mean are they humans, or aliens, or what?
January 20 – Newport, RI
I must remember to speak with Banandar about his bleedin’ taffy
apples, which he leaves lying around half eaten, getting everything
all sticky and attracting ants. And though ants can lift proportionately
40 times their own weight, I don’t necessarily want them crawling
all over my tour bus. I mean I know I’m guilty of occasionally
sticking things where they don’t belong (said the bishop to the
alter boy) but Banandar’s bloody taffy apples are getting all
over everything and I’m fed up. I mean we’re ALL on the
bloody tour bus, mate. We’ve ALL got to get along.
January 23 – Augusta, ME
Okay, I need to talk to Guy about our opening acts, because this is
SHIT, plain and simple. No more cover bands. Tonight was the end. I
mean NO ONE wants to see a Moody Blues cover band, especially with a
name like “The Bluedy Moos.” AND they never even sang “Nights
in White Satin,” which is like the only Moody Blues song anyone
can name. Then the night before we had “Don’t Fear the Reaper,”
that godawful Blue Oyster Cult cover band. And then before that, we
had a Christopher Cross cover act. I mean bloody hell, you can get the
REAL Christopher Cross for the price of a sandwich, so why are we wasting
time with knockoffs? The only opening act I liked was the Peter Cetera
impersonator, and that’s because he turned out to actually BE
Peter Cetera, which was a nice surprise. What a friendly bloke. And
when he belted out that song from “The Karate Kid, Part 2,”
there wasn’t a dry eye in the house- my own included. I didn’t
even cry at me mum’s funeral, but I cried for Peter Cetera. Because
he showed me that love CAN bloom between Ralph Macchio and a Chinese
girl. Or Japanese, I forgot what she was exactly.
