–11 February 2004
I just heard on Klassic Radio the worst record I’ve ever heard. Here’s a hint: It’s Josh Groban’s rendition of Don McLean’s “Vincent”.
–15 February 2004
As I’ve said before, I love to see LCs [= Little Criminals, bijnaam voor Newman-fans] whom I know after these shows. Also, I like to see anyone I don’t know because you never know. Know what I mean? Anyway, I like seeing Jim Moran, Suzanne, Susan, Jeroen Smeets (the Bass) and honorary LC Annelise so much that it puzzles me. I like people of all species but so did, for instance, Warren Harding. He loved the members of his cabinet and then they betrayed him. The man who would have been our greatest president was destroyed by his friends and admirers. That’s why I don’t let people get too close. I used to but I’ve been hurt too many times. I think now of Jim Moran and his smooth guitar playing ways and Susan looking like old money.
My father once had dinner with the family and my son Eric brought his girlfriend, Megan. He was meeting her for the first time. After dinner, when Eric left, of course we talked about her. I commented on what a nice girl she was. My dad said he hated her. I couldn’t believe it. I asked him why he felt that way he said that she looked exactly like the kids in this Irish family he knew who were the biggest Jew haters in Elmhurst, Long Island fifty years ago. I thought that was fair.
I did a different kind of show in Utrecht. I played Old Man, which I never do, and Davy The Fat Boy which I hadn’t done in a long time for fear of blowing my voice out and breaking glass and eardrums in the hall. I think Old Man is one of my best songs. I think I succeeded in that song in producing a piece of music that has no entertainment value. It’s the musical version of a stomach-ache. I’m retiring it from the stage until I’m playing for an audience I really hate. Look out Frankfurt!
I’m not happy with the literary quality of this up to now. I’ve been writing in character, the character of a bad writer.
We’re in Graz now. It’s really a beautiful town. It’s not in the mountains but my altimeter says that we’re at 1400 feet. After Holland and Belgium, it’s hard to breathe up here. I asked Cathy last night, over an expensive dinner. (She eats like she has two assholes – I don’t know how we stay so thin.)
I worry about how vulgar I am. Believe me. It would be easy to erase what I just wrote about Cathy but unfortunately, it’s true. I asked Cathy what her favorite albums of all time were but told her not to include any of mine. She didn’t. That’s what I mean about not letting people get too close. Though, wherever he is Tom Petty would be very happy. Wayne Newton too. No, her list was very impressive. Perhaps some day she’ll allow it to be published. Personally, I’m never going to talk to her about music again. She’s a big blond bully who loves AC/DC. Mea culpa. Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa.
Bye for now.
THEY SMILE IN YOUR FACE AND ALL THE TIME THEY’RE TRYING TO TAKE YOUR PLACE.
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