A ringing phone woke me from a rock hard sleep. It was dark and somewhat dank in the room. There was no central climate control, no heat, no air though there was a standalone fan in the closet. I glanced at my travel alarm, 12:40 pm. I took a drink of water and cleared my throat as not to sound as if I just got up.
So, there we were about to jettison the guys I’d grown to love. The sound guys, anyway. The lighting crew chief Jimmy and his “partner” Jorge were a couple of guys I could do without at this point. Sure, they could have been good guys to hang with, but I have shit to do and don’t any lying bullshit. Life is too short for it. In one way, I was glad to see him gone. Particularly since I made a stink about how he should be sacked during the first couple of gigs. I didn’t, however, want to lose my sound dudes. They rocked, even if the gear was a bit dodgy.
Three days off. In a row. That’s nearly unheard of in rock tour circles. Even though we were doing a TV show the previous day, I’m getting pretty bored. I get up, shower (hot water, YAY!) and make my way to the Dunkin for a few stage weights and a couple of cups of Dunkin mud. I had to get three because they were so small.
The next day was a well deserved day off. Normally on my days off, I try not to hang with most of the party or with only limited members. I’m not a very social animal. My phone rang at what seemed to be crack of dawn. It was actually 12:30 in the afternoon. Ten hours sleep, nice job, dude. It was lighting dude telling me to get my ass to the bar, they had American football, NASCAR and baseball on the tube. I came right down.
The tres err… third part of our little Mexican jaunt. We are learning a bit about culture, the Mexican way and the wonders of Don Julio. Anejo, of course. Or is that Repesado?
Part two of our continuing saga in Mexico…..
So I finally had my flight out of Sea-Tac. Except that an ATC delay at SFO held us on the tarmac in Seattle for nearly an hour. It didn’t matter, I was hung over and tired from the hurried tasks of the night before. I slept nearly the entire flight. My itenerary didn’t list what the layover time was. Seems out little delay left me with scantily 20 minutes to make the connection to Mexico City. Damnest thing I ever saw, same flight number, but requiring a change of planes along the way. I take that back, I’ve seen that a few other times. What’s up with that?
While not near as good (IMNSHO) as El Mariachi or Desparado, it still is in the style of those films. It shows that Rodriguez took the time between the second and third to do the Spy Kids flicks and a great deal of the big time Hollywood machine seems to have rubbed off on this, the final installment of the trio.
This isn’t a review of the film, but an account of my most recent tour of Mexico. Twelve concerts and a TV show in twenty four days, uncommon for a American based rock/pop artist. Usually, the larger acts do only Mexico City and perhaps Monterey. I thought it appropriate to see the latest installment of the Banderas lead flick the night before my departure, if only to set the tone for the month.