Love Hotel

Tour date 4

I like Los Angeles MUCH more than I thought I would. Maybe it's just because I ate really good cheap tacos within a half hour of coming into the city and there's a place called House of Pies. Which has Pie. I'm going to get some later.

We're at Sandpaper Books and our agent tonight is Hector. Who is super sweet and made sure to Britta some water for me. That's right, I've just made Britta a verb. Please hold your applause.

So the Perpetual Motion Roadshow is a fucking joke. At least this little branch of it is. They promise two things: A venue and A place to Sleep. So far only in Portland did anyone make arrangements for us, so Bret called ahead to our next two venues and the agents there also said they had no idea that they were supposed to get us a place to stay. Bret wrote a nasty email to the coordinator who supposedly is new, but who also told at least one agent who told her he could offer a venue and nothing else, "Oh, well that's totally fine!"

Grrr.

The other thing is that these agents are so hapless about getting us a place to stay. I mean if someone showed up in Seattle and I hadn't arranged a place I would, say, get on the fucking phone and call a few of my friends and make something happen.

I have a theory about what the real problem is though. The real problem is that there is no purpose for this tour. It's a tour so they can say they have people on tour all the time. So there's no theme, no momentum, no goal or objective. There isn't even a sense that they want to get artists exposure in new literary scenes. I get the feeling that the coordinator calls people and they say "Yeah, uh, they can read here if they want, I guess." And that's about it.

I slept a lot in the car today. The baby is going crazy because we haven't worn ourselves out. "What was with all that Sleeping, Mommy?!?"

Jordan, who is the third member of our party is driving me crazy. I'll tell you about it sometime. I've had a few moments. You know. Those moments where you seriously consider stopping the car and saying "Out. Just get the fuck out of the car." And then driving off.

He's obsessed with getting shot, since he's in America (he's Canadian) and keeps feigning disappointment when we tell him it's unlikely in most of the places we're going. I decided to abandon this tactic today and started suggesting ways in which he could get shot. I also told him if he wanted a true American Experience he should get shot by a cop. Then I started concocting ways in which we could all make that happen. Calling the cops on him, saying I didn't know him and he wouldn't get out of my car and then he could reach quickly for something in his pocket, like his wallet...

Strangely, he wasn't too keen on any of my ideas.

Fucker.

Posted by jlp716 at December 14, 2005 07:17 PM