Nebraska In Tampere 5805

The first show in Tampere was another memorable gig that I’ll never forget. It all started when I made a harmless joke about being banned from certain countries, which the audience ran with. Chants of, “Sweden sucks” “The hell with England” “Screw France” and “What’s up, Merkel? You let everyone else in,” which I found humorous. I told them that the good folks of those countries aren’t to blame, and I extolled their virtues, but the Fins were having none of it. “You folks are the experts, so I’ll defer,” I said to rousing applause.

I then performed the first song of the opening set.

I found it utterly cool that Bruce Springsteen would drive to Philadelphia to see Paige’s concert, and I wanted to put that feeling into a song. I composed, “The Boss is in the House” as a way to commemorate it. I know Bruce wouldn’t want me to make a big deal out of him going to the concert; however, it’s not every day that rock legend goes out of his way to attend a show by a young superstar. I’m sure he’s been to a lot of concerts, but he went to my baby’s and said it was an incredible show, so I feel it’s worthy of notice.

And the crowd loved the song.

I then played, “Johnny 99.”

The Springsteen song has always been one of my favorites of him and is off his album, Nebraska, an acoustic album he recorded in his kitchen. The album stunned his fans as it proceeded, The River, a classic double album full of Bruce’s rocking tunes. The album immediately resonated with me, especially, “Johnny 99” a ditty about an unemployed auto worker who commits a murder and is sentenced to 99 years in prison. The song deals with the plight of the unemployed, poverty, hopelessness, and the dark side of human nature.

I had a blast playing the song.

Feeling emboldened, I decided to do the title song from the Nebraska album, a tale about the spree-killer Charles Starkweather, which is another classic cut. The haunting tune also struck a chord with me and one of the best acoustic compositions I’ve ever heard as it captured the senselessness and evil of a psychopath’s crimes in plain language that made the song even more powerful.

I finished up the set with another tune off the Nebraska album, “Reason to Believe” a story about people’s need for hope in a cruel world. As I performed the composition, I realized that I knew every song off the album, which meant that I listened to it a lot. My friends found the album depressing and didn’t cotton to it when it was first released, but years later, Kirby said that he now thinks it’s Springsteen’s best work. With albums like  Born to Run, Born in the U.S.A., Darkness on the Edge of Town and The River, that is saying something.

I managed to get one more song off the album near the end of the show. “Highway Patrolman” a story about two brothers, one a lawman, the other a criminal. Kim and Tom provided expert backup, and I had fun playing the number. “Are you going to do the rest of the album tomorrow,” Rory asked. “Maybe,” I replied.

Nebraska in Tampere proved to be a big hit.

Nebraska 4949

I made BLT sandwiches for supper that hit the spot. Afterward, we watched a little television before putting the girls to bed. Blake and I then turned the TV back on. I flipped through the channels and came across a story about Rory and the recently surfaced videos of him dancing naked and spewing lewd remarks. Naturally, there was outrage, but most of it was artificial. They then showed another interview with Rory, who was having a blast telling stories about that night. The interviewer, a young lady, finally burst into laughter and said that this is insane but harmless. A stream of parodies then followed with “Oh Rory” a knockoff on “Oh Sherrie” by Steve Perry, the best of them. Blake and I laughed and said the boy is playing this right. Frank Caliendo, the great impressionist, then did a perfect imitation of Rory and me, which was also hilarious.

I then made my wife some hot chocolate.

We sat at the kitchen table and talked about Nebraska. “The weather is rough, and although I grew up in a state with cold winters, it’s been a while, but it’s also kind of cool to be back in real winter weather,” Blake said. “Yeah, it is, and I like the area. I know Felty is going to try and peddle this place off, but I can’t see moving here,” I replied. “This is a nice farm and apparently was a horse farm, but it doesn’t seem whoever owned it really used it because everything looks new,” my wife remarked. “They didn’t live here much, and Dick Felty said it was a waste of money. Dick grew up on a farm in Nebraska, but he didn’t pass that country living off to his kids.”

Blake gave me an intense stare.

“Are thinking what I think you’re thinking,” she asked. “Probably.” “Wow, that’s wild. You say Felty is coming here tomorrow?” “Yes.” “What for?” “I don’t know?” “He’s going to try to sell you this place,” my wife replied. “Probably?” “What are you going to do?” “Listen.” “Okay.” “What do you want to do?” Blake gave me a blank look and then laughed. “It is nice, but I don’t know, Elmer.” “I’ll listen to what he has to say,” I said. Blake smirked and said it should be interesting.

I don’t make big purchases on a whim and will carefully analyze all information concerning this farm. I have to consider my family, which will be the deciding factor. The property is definitely worth having, and I already have plans for it, but it’s not about me.

But that indoor riding facility.

Angus Al’s 4944

We all slept late, and when we got up, we felt refreshed and ready to do something. Madeline, the neighbor, said that there are eggs, bacon, and bread in the house, which got us through breakfast. We then got bundled up and walked outside. The frigid temperature momentarily jarred us, but then a euphoric feeling collectively swept through us, and we took a stroll around the farm. Not wanting to overdo it, we went back inside the house where I started a fire. Elizabeth and Amy laid on the floor coloring in front of the fire while Blake and I chilled on the couch.

Already I feel like a new man.

We bundled up again and went out for dinner. We drove into Blair, where we found a place called Angus Al that claimed to have the best burgers in the world. I pulled into the parking lot, and we decided to see if their claim was true. An old-fashioned joint straight out of the fifties, Angus Al, has no pretense whatsoever, and I asked the waitress that I’ve eaten some mighty fine burgers in my time. “You haven’t eaten at Al’s, so you’re about to eat the best,” she replied. “Okay, you’re on.” We all ordered burgers, and to the girl’s delight, the joint had chocolate milkshakes. I ordered a vanilla one, and I must say the shakes are definitely a cut-above.

Then the burgers arrived.

Juicy, cooked to perfection and loaded with taste, Angus Al’s burgers are definitely one of the best burgers I ever ate and Blake and the girls agreed. The homestyle fries also hit the spot. When we finished our meal, I told the waitress that the burgers are something to behold. “I told you,” she confidently replied.

Then, a middle-aged man walked out wearing an apron.

“How was it,” he asked. “Delicious, Sir, are you the cook?” “No, I’m Al Ledge, I own this place.” “Sorry, you look so natural as a cook.” “I do that, too, my father owned this place and left it to me. My son and daughter decided that this business wasn’t for them, which was a smart move. This business had been good to me, but it’s a tough go.” “Yes, it is, but it’s a challenge that is rewarding when you make it work,” I replied. “I hear you have a successful restaurant,” l then asked.

Oh shit, I’ve been ID’d.

“How do you know I have a restaurant?” “Because you’re the Scragg Man,” Al replied. “Why do you say that?” “You look like him, and the Braves knit hat.” “Oh boy.” “Plus, you’re staying at Dick Felty’s place, or it was his place before his son moved there and then moved out. I know Dick is in North Carolina, so it wasn’t hard to figure out who you are.” “Look, we’re here to get away and relax.” “I understand, but can we at least get a photo of you that I can put on the wall,” Al asked. “Sure.”

Damn, I should have worn a Cornhuskers hat.

I posed for pics with Al and his staff. Realizing there was no use in hiding, I then chatted with the customers, and they took pics. “You need a Nebraska coat and cap,” an old codger told me. “I’m married to a Wildcat,” I replied. “Why you letting him wear a Braves cap, this is Royal Country,” another older man asked Blake. “I’m working on it,” she replied. “Don’t let those pretty little girls follow those miserable Braves,” Al said. “Hey, they’re coming up in the world,” I protested. The joint erupted in laughter, and I felt right at home.

Okay, so we didn’t make a clean getaway as we thought, but we still had a grand time chatting with the locals and getting in touch with folks just like us before the money rolled in.

Blake and I said that we would come back to Angus Al’s tomorrow.

 

 

 

The Young And Lazy 1903

I called Paige, who was home with Little Michael, and sounding stronger. I asked her how she was adapting to her new life, and she said that she’s getting the hang of it. “It’s constant, but I was prepared for that. I have a lot of help, which is nice. Jackie is kind of bossy, but she means well. Blake, Tabby, and Tara have been wonderful. It’s nice to be home and have all the comforts that make life better. He’s so adorable, Daddy, and I can’t wait for you to see him. Robin said you’ll be home after the Portland concert, which is only a couple of days away. She told me that the show in Boston was wild, and I read online that the critics were blown away by it. I guess Cullen is still the same,” my oldest daughter then asked. “He is, but he looks better and has a renewed vigor. The guy can flat-out play, which adds to the songs.” “Robin sounds like she’s hanging in there. I reminded her of what you told her about this last leg, and she said that she’s ready to do it. She asked me if I was jealous, and I told her that I wasn’t, and I really mean that. The road does absolutely nothing for me, especially now. I know I shouldn’t feel that way, but there’s no use in fighting what I feel.” “That’s right, sweetie, so enjoy your life and don’t worry about doing what your sister does.” “She’s tougher than me, isn’t she, Daddy?” “It’s not a question of toughness, Paige, it’s just who you are. I needed to show Robin that she needed to apply herself if she wanted a career in music. If she had sold songs and generated income for herself, then I wouldn’t have cared, but she just noodled in the studio, which isn’t going to work. She’s doing just fine on the road, so please don’t worry about her.” “I know she is, but I just hate it that you two are away.” “It’s part of the game, sweetie, which you don’t have to worry about.” “I know, Daddy, but I do want to play live sometime.” “Don’t worry about it, it’s not important.”

Paige’s time on the road will never be for long.

We chatted about little Michael and how she has changed since giving birth. Paige then asked me about Bella, who she said stopped by this afternoon wearing a glum look. “I knew something was on her mind, but I didn’t want to hear anything too fucked up, so I let it go. I asked Tara, who said she didn’t know what was wrong with her because she’s still seeing Kurt, and they aren’t having any problems that she knew of. I’m sure Robin will find out,” Paige said. “She’ll be fine,” I replied. “Bella?” “Yes.” My oldest daughter went momentarily silent before letting out a mini-chuckle. “Oh boy, she’s being summoned back to the road, isn’t she?” “Yes, I got a call this afternoon about how she and Kurt were lounging around the house doing nothing and thinking it was okay. That wouldn’t have pissed me off too much, but when she got nasty with Amber–well, that just isn’t going to work. Bella likes the road when she’s not being harassed by her parents, who’ve been quiet, but I reckon she might have a problem being away from loverboy, but that doesn’t bother me in the least. I told Amber that her album will not be released until she does her compulsory road service.” “Why didn’t she say that, Daddy.” “Because her behavior this afternoon toward Amber was despicable. She called her all kinds of nasty names and used vulgar language, which is very un-Bella like. She got comfortable doing nothing, so she can get rejuvenated on the road, that’s if she wants to.” “And if she doesn’t?” “She’s gone,” I replied in a casual tone. “Damn, Daddy.” “I’m not playing,” I said.

Paige and I then talked about nice things before clicking off.

After dinner, Robin asked me about Bella. “She tell you the news,” I asked. “Yes, but she didn’t sound happy.” “Did she tell you what she said to Amber?” “No.” “I told Robin what Bella said to the record exec, which shocked her. “Bella never used to use language like that, Daddy.” “I know, but she got home and got lazy…and nasty,” I replied. “I know,” my daughter said.

Bella then called Robin.

My daughter took the call and winced when her friend began to talk. Robin tried to calm her friend down, but couldn’t get a word in. I told her to give me the phone, which she did. “That bitch got in my face and accused me of being lazy, which isn’t fair ’cause I do what they ask me. I know she needs to be a cunt now and then, but shit, it’s not my fucking fault she’s not getting laid,” Bella said in an illogical rant. “Fucking bitch got me in a jam…what a cunt!” “Is that so, Bella,” I then asked.

Silence filled the connection for ten seconds.

“Sir.” “You listen to me, young lady, I’ve already talked to you about that mouth, but apparently you don’t listen, so this is a reminder: get packed and get ready to hit the road because it’s going to happen one way or another.” “Sir…” “Shut up, you’ve acted like a little brat, which normally would get you fired, but I’m feeling benevolent, but not for long. Goodbye.”

Meanwhile…

Kevin was on the phone with Chase about Kurt, who’s acting like a dickhead. When he finally clicked off, my partner said that Kurt is smoking dope and thinking he’s on easy street. “He wants to fire him, but I told him to let me run it by you,” Kevin said, waiting for me to explode. “This is the last time, Kev, but since it’s already screwed up, I’ll deal with this. Get Farley on the line,” I told Robin, who promptly contacted the musician. I took the phone and explained the situation. “You guys could use a sound man and a general asshole to kick around, so here comes Kurt,” I said. “Is he on meth,” Farley asked. “I don’t know, but if he is, dump him.” “Okay, Sir.” “Get some live recordings and spruce up your resume. Kurt needs guidance, which your band is going to give him. Where are you?” “Nebraska, Sir.” “Great, where you going to be tomorrow?” “Lincoln.” “Well, Kurt’s going to be on a red-eye flight to somewhere, so Lincoln is as good as any.” “We’ll pick him up when we’re done.” “That’s fine. Let me call Kurt and give him the good news.”

I called Kurt, who was contrite to the point of blubbering. “Shut up, Kurt, get ready to go to Lincoln, Nebraska, to help out Cool-Daddy-O. If I get any bad reports, you’re gone. Do I make myself clear?” “Yes, Sir.” Bye.” I then dialed up Chase, who said Kurt would be on a plane in the morning.

That was easy.

“Now, can I finally get some rest,” I asked. I walked back to my suite and called Blake.

What the fuck.