Sam Shinazzi

Tour Diary

USA Tour Diary February / March 2005

In early 2005 I was lucky enough to travel to America for the first time. In September 2003 I almost made it over to both tour with a hero and go to the Braaten’s wedding, but it didn’t happen. I finally confirmed it all in January 2005 but only found out a few weeks from my departure. This made it a whirlwind couple of weeks but it meant that I didn’t have to wait to long to sink my teeth into a burrito and some cheap American beer.

I was primarily traveling to New York City to co-write some more songs with my dear friend Jenny Queen for her second album. I have a friend in Washington DC who has been sprouting my first album around for a while now, so he arranged a show for me there. I was also going to Los Angeles to see some friends, and they set up some shows as well. It ended up being a really busy, productive trip. I had been working on some songs in Sydney for Jenny Queen. Some were mine completely, and some were her lyrics with my music. Once I knew I was going overseas though, I moved into overdrive which both helped and hindered me. I have never known if I am good under the gun or not. I think it’s a mixed answer really.

The night before leaving I had a bit of a meltdown. I know it sounds ridiculous but I was actually considering not going because I was freaking out about the plane and being on my own so much. Turns out it would be very healthy for me, but I didn’t know that at the time. It took some calming, wise words from a close friend to get me sorted. I would miss Fred the Cat tremendously. It would be the longest I will have been away from him. He isn’t young anymore and I don’t want him to stress out too much.

Wednesday February 16 2005

I had a 12:35pm flight for Los Angeles on QF 107. My folks accompanied me to the airport. I joined the long line for check-in at 9:30am. My Dad is so quirky. He was skirting in and out of the line with me until I told him the other passengers probably didn’t appreciate it. He of course dismissed this notion. After about twenty minutes someone yells out my name. “Sam, hey Sam!”. I turn around and see Toby Martin from Youth Group. He’s like “Are you going to LA?!” and I’m like “Yuh-huh.”. And then it clicks. The best band currently in the nation is going to meet their new label and we are on the same plane! I ask Danny Allen how he can leave when this weekend his beloved South Sydney Rabbitohs are playing against St George in the Charity Cup? I feel a lot calmer knowing these guys will be on board. We chat as the queue spirals around. I eventually get my ticket and the attendant swears I have an aisle seat. I tried to sit with the Youth
Group lads but they had a four seater section already.

Hang with the folks for a little while. Comes time for me to say goodbye and I go through to the next part of the journey. I declare everything. There is a sea of people. This is intense; I am in that moment though where I just want get the hell out of here.

I finally board. I start to curse. I have a window seat. A window seat next to a larger older couple. Turns out they are very nice, but my god, I was already feeling claustrophobic and I hadn’t even squeezed into my seat yet. The check-in guy lied to me! I ask someone if there is a spare seat anywhere only to receive a negative reply. I even raise the subject of my restless leg syndrome but nothing. So I squeeze in and meet the friendly folks. I can’t remember their names but they were from Atlanta Georgia. I ask the fella if he is a Falcons man. “My word I am” he says in the thickest American accent I have ever heard. They are a wealthy retired couple on their way home. He asks me if I like jokes and I make the near fatal mistake of saying “Sure”. I then hear corny joke after corny joke for maybe an hour? I can see the Youth Groupers ahead to the middle about ten rows. Every time one of them gets up to go the toilet they smile at me as if to
say “Good luck with that!”. Danny Allen is the worst. I start to read the new Midnight Oil biography. Interesting read. We lucked out with the movies. ’Garden State’ which I’d already seen twice was on four times during the flight. I think I watched it three times. My mind was kinda all over the place as I really really, really don’t like to fly.

On the screen there was a channel dedicated to just the journey itself, with a little animated plane showing how long there was to reach our destination. That lil plane moved so slow… Make small talk with the folks next to me, or rather they do to me. They had actually stayed in Blakehurst which is a nice enough suburb near me kind of. They ask about my business. I think I make it sound more impressive than it is. They are good about me getting up from my seat when I need to. Food and drink come often which is pleasant. I really admire those that work on this airline and are at the beck and call of us, the customers. Chat to Youth Group more. Re-meet Patrick and Cameron. Epitaph have signed them for outside of Australia. Tom Waits is there label mate. Lord.

The flight is kind of killing me. Even though they didn’t realise it, if Youth Group were not on the same flight I would have lost the plot I think. I couldn’t stretch my dodgy legs like I need to without getting up. I specifically remember at about 4:30am USA time, so closer to the end of the flight than the start, I was up the back stretching and having a quiet drink and quietly freaking out and Toby got out of his seat and came and hung out with me. He didn’t know it but it was a huge deal. We spoke about our respective plans, about Bob Dylan like we sometimes do, home etc. We spoke for about forty minutes. Just us up the back as everyone else snoozed. I remained up the back for like three hours because I felt way more comfortable. I slept maybe an hour before breakfast. Tip for young players: always go for the cold breakfast on a plane over the hot breakfast. I have cereal, fruit, coffee and juice. Lifesavers really. The old fella next to me is
quietly complaining about his hot meal. Poor bastard.

We get close to LA and it looks huge. Vast. The roads look extreme and loop around like crazy. It’s kind of overcast. As I farewell the folks next to me, the woman grabs my arm and tells me “You seem like a real nice, polite young man and I wish you success on your travels”. I blush and then she squeezes my arm tighter. “Should anything happen though, here is something for you to fall back on”. She hands me a Good News booklet full of great, positive Christian values. I sigh; if only she knew the truth. I can’t throw it back in her face so I politely accept it and put it in my pocket. Maybe this is how to stop wars? Politely accept another’s religious propaganda and then throw it out later. Funny too, this was my first experience of America, before seeing an ambulance outside of the plane and someone being carried off. I think a man had a heart attack.

I meet up with the Youth Group lads and we go through the customs area. They are getting out at LA. We are nervous as travelling musicians … we have heard some stories about being refused entry. I go through first and talk with a heavily built, large American customs officer. Shaved head. Looks mean as. Nice enough fella though. Very serious. Stresses a few things about being in America. I know I am not home, that’s for sure. Computerised fingerprint and a photo too I think from memory? I say goodbye to the YG lads, give Danny a hug. I hope these guys become massive. They deserve it.

This was one part of the trip I was worried about. How will I know where to go? What to do? Turns out they make it pretty easy for you. I was herded into the domestic part of LAX and then I strolled for 10 metres before a middle aged African-American man said “Where are you off to Sir?”. He directed me the right way which again, was unbelievably cool and then said as I was walking “Sir, for just $20 we can get you to sponsor a small child from…” and I said “Buddy, I only have Australian dollars on me”. A lie. What a scammer! Good luck to him though.

I only have to wait an hour for my flight to NYC. It’s the same plane actually. I tried to call my LA buddy Matty Braaten but I couldn’t work out their area codes and coins for their pay phones. The flight to NYC is about six hours, which at the time seemed awful but it went pretty quick and I slept really well. I had no one next to me and just crashed bigtime. I changed clothes as I knew I would be flying into freezing temperatures. I was making my own way to Jenny’s place which again, was scary but it was probably good for me to be in this situation. I grabbed all my luggage, checked the Maton and then joined the long line for a cab. Did I mention it was cold? It was about 4 degrees I think. But the sun was going down and so was the temperature. This was probably the second coldest I would have ever felt in my life (the coldest would be a week later) because admittedly I wasn’t rugged up as much as I could have been. In the line of people, this Italian-American guy grabs me and says “Let’s go, Cab’s waiting. Flat fee”. I kind of move my arm away from his. I had heard about these guys. Fair enough the line was long, and it was cold, but these guys looked so…unreliable? The late Australian ‘journalist’ Richard Carlton was in front of me and said something like “Who knows where you’d end up?”.

After twenty five minutes I got a yellow cab and was on my way to the city. Goodness, everything you have seen and heard about cabs in NYC is true! Crazy. The traffic doesn’t help though. NYC is not meant for automobiles. From JFK to NYC itself is an amazing ride, seeing the Brooklyn Bridge in the flesh for the first time was unforgettable. Riding into the city and just everywhere you look is a famous landmark. I arrive in one piece, with all my luggage in tact. Wow. I feel proud. Jenny and her partner Michael live in the East Village, a real nice part of town. Her building looks way old. Maybe a hundred years old. She has a doorman but most of these places do. Still, it’s a novelty for a kid from the suburbs of Sydney Australia. No one is home but they have left me a key. Remy greets me. Cutest lil dog. We catch up and would go on to be close pals. About ten minutes later I hear a door open and I say “G’day?” and Michael comes running up the stairs literally. I haven’t seen him for seven months and I am glad he is as excited as I am. I am in NYC baby!

We catch up. I shower. It’s 7:30pm. So much for my first night being a quiet one. Within an hour I am in CBGB’s having a Budweiser! Awesome. Joey Ramone has a street named after him here. The venue is pretty small. It’s narrow for half of the bar section I guess you’d say, and the main floor holds maybe 200 people. We watch some bad punk band but it’s just cool being here. Their manager comes up to me and gives me a CD. I think he thinks I am someone. I meet an A+R dude from Warner Bros. New Yorkers are funny. He tells me to send him my new album. He says he will be seeing four bands in four different venues tonight. No wonder this place is one of the keys to the arts community. It’s only a Wednesday I should remind you. Michael and I grab a slice of Ray’s Pizza. They are a chain but a small, respectable one as far as I can tell. New York pizza is outstanding. It is thin and crunchy. I adore it. Michael shows me how they eat it all folded over but I just kind of eat it regularly. We walk the streets of NYC, this is very strange but very cool.

Michael has arranged to meet Jenny at a venue called The Living Room. I am very impressed. It’s an acoustic venue with chairs and tables primarily. I am shocked to see people ordering their beers from their seats. A guy called Griffin House is the main act, and I don’t know if I was just romancing the fact that I was in America for the first night, but he was really great. Like a mellower Pete Yorn maybe? Maybe. Great venue, great vibe. We caught the last half of his set. At this point Michael tells me Jenny is out in the foyer so I venture out there as I haven’t seen her for eight months or so. She is reading, so I kind of walk in front of her without saying anything, and start doing a little dance. She yells and we hug. Michael comes out and we head off to get some food. They take me to a little family owned Mexican place. It would be the first of a thousand Mexican meals I have whilst in the States. We each have a frozen margarita and it is phenomenal. Around 10pm we head back to their apartment. I give Jenny and Michael their presents and we chill on the lounge until bedtime. I am taking the floor with a little thin mattress, kind of hard on the back initially but strangely lovely once I get used to it. It’s weird but I swear I will end up sleeping better on this trip than I have ever slept in my life. Seemed like that, anyway.

Thursday 17th February 2005

In the early afternoon I accompanied Jenny down a few blocks and whilst she had an appointment I took my first daylight look around New York City. I walked around and took it all in, sat for a while in front of a monument and people watched. I went back to meet Jenny a while later and whilst I was waiting the strangest thing happened. I was in a fairly nondescript street which at the time I thought was an industrial area located in the middle of the city. It just had that vibe to it. I am waiting for Jenny, and it’s pretty cold and overcast when I notice little tiny specs falling onto me. Again, I think it must be some yucky factory smog so I try to avoid them. Suddenly one lands on my coat and it kind of melts. I feel like the dumbest kid in the world. It is snowing! Only just, but it is snowing. Jenny appears and I’m like “Is this snow?” and she just kind of stares at me. I remind her where I am from. It was a really exciting moment for me and little did I know I would be seeing non-stop real snow very soon.

That night Jenny stayed in feeling a little under the weather, whilst Michael and I went out to see some bands. It was snowing proper now. We caught a cab to the Bowery Ballroom on Delancey Street. This was probably the best venue I went to on my entire trip. It has a happening bar on the main level which was full of indie rock kids and college students. We then head downstairs to the band venue section and it is a pretty big room. It reminded me of the old Phoenician Club in Sydney, or maybe a much bigger Gaelic Club? Michael buys first and he chooses a Brooklyn Lager for me. He isn’t aware that I don’t dig dark beer but I figure what the hell. I think I am just impressed that Brooklyn have their own beer. I would go on to try every different beer brewed in America and Canada that I could get my hands on.

The first band on were Grizzly Bear. They were the best first on band I have ever seen. Again, I was trying to work out whether I was just caught up in the fact that I was so far from home but no, they were awesome. The easiest description for me to use would be kind of post-rock music with great harmonies; something like Tortoise meets the Shins. They had great stage presence too, and a very good crowd in early to see them play. I told Michael they would be perfect for Aaron’s Spunk! Records to which he agreed. I put young Ace on their mailing list but casually forget to buy a CD. I figure I will later on. The next two beers we had were probably close to my favourites. Rolling Rock from La Trobe, Pennsylvania and Pabst Blue Ribbon from Milwaukee. Great beers.

Michael is here to see a Brooklyn band called Calla. They were of a new wave/new rock flavour, kind of fast songs but with some atmosphere and jangle. The place is packed now, and I am really loving this venue. Towards the end of Calla’s set we head off to another venue in yet another cab. This time we are going to the Knitting Factory which is a well known venue. It has a few different rooms for bands, I think we head into the mid-size room. We are here to see a singer-songwriter from New Jersey (imagine being able to say that about yourself). His name is Val Emmich. We catch the end of the middle band and I meet some of Michael’s friends. My shout was influenced by those around me, and it was some bottles of Rheingold beer. I forget where it is from though? I get the lowdown on Val Emmich from Michael’s mate Johnny. Johnny has one of the greatest accents I have ever heard. It is wrong for me to write this but I forget if he was from New York or New Jersey. Come to think of it I am pretty sure he is a New Yorker.

Val is a young singer-songwriter who released an album and was then picked up by a major label. I think the hype is about to kick in ‘cause although he had a very respectable crowd, it wasn’t packed or anything. Apparently when he was younger he had Lyme disease, so he had to stay inside and he taught himself guitar. I bought Johnny and his partner another beer as Val and his band hit the stage. They immediately remind me of Soul Asylum, and when I say that I am not talking balladeers but I am talking energetic, frenetic melodic rock and roll. I can also see some Bright Eyes going on with the edgy stage mannerisms and vocals. By now we were all getting rather tipsy, but I enjoyed Val’s set.

After the set Michael hands me a Lonestar beer (from Texas) and it is a really fine drop as well. We all sit around talking. Everyone is fascinated that I am from Australia. It’s a great weapon actually. Speaking of which, Johnny and Michael start to discuss hunting. Johnny is a big hunter and Michael is like a surrogate hunter because of his father in law.

By this time we are all drunken like and I can tell Johnny there is nothing tough about shooting animals to which his partner agrees. “Oh c’mon Sam, you’re telling me you don’t go hunting in the Territory down there?”. It’s all in jest of course. We get onto Amstol Light beer which is nice but, you know, light. I had asked Johnny about what he does earlier, and he is a songwriter. As Michael talks to Val, I quiz Johnny about his work further. “Have you written for anyone I would know?”. He casually replies “Have you guys heard of Pink in Australia?”. I kind laugh disbelievingly and say “You mean…’Let’s get this party started Pink’? Needless to say it was his shout next! After last drinks is called we amble outside to a freezing NYC morning. We cab it back to 17th and 2nd slurring our words.

Friday 18th February 2005

Slept in. Jenny made me this cute little thing for breakfast, as she would a lot of mornings. We have a bit of a jam and talk about the new songs. Come night time Jenny, Michael and I cab it to this famous restaurant, or should I say steakhouse. The Old Homestead. It’s kind of fancy actually and really crowded. We have a quiet one in the bar until our table is ready. We take some cheesy photos and proceed to eat the finest, thickest and biggest steak ever.

 

Saturday 19th February 2005

After some organization via the telephone, I finally arrange to meet my friend Anna. She is a Sydney girl who has been living in NYC for at least two or three years now. Jenny gives me this cool little map of the city which will become both my friend and lifesaver. Being in such an opposite environment is great, but because I don’t see winter all that bad (June/July/August is cold in Sydney but not this cold) I don’t have a big winter coat as such. And we layer up, but not like this. What I am getting at is I was a little conscious of how I looked at times because it was so cold I would just layer and layer until I was warm. My teenage thoughts of this ceased once I saw Ryan Adams on 2nd Avenue looking rather normal and average (that’s no disrespect; he is Ryan Adams afterall) getting into a cab.

It is such a safe city these days that I wasn’t at all worried about where I would end up. It was more about being on time to meet my friend, and truth be told I am not a person that likes the feeling of being lost. Anna and Jenny’s individual directions are exceptional, and I get to Tompkins Square Park on time at around 1pm. Anna notices me before I notice her and waves from across the street. She is looking great. We have become such email buddies that it is just like being in Sydney catching up, except we are not. We are in NYC! We have lunch at this excellent, busy diner which I think from memory was called Stingy Lou-Lou’s. It was on the corner of 2nd Avenue I think from memory.

We just talk and talk and talk. About Sydney. About NYC. About family. About Felicity. About love and generally, about life and indeed our lives. We walk our big lunch off, with Anna showing me some cool shops around St Mark’s Place. Aside from the tourist aspects of this area, I really like this place. Kim’s Records is awesome! A lot of Australian artists are in their collection too. The bookstore upstairs is incredible too. I regret not buying an academic book concentrating on teen television. I can still see it now.
We go to this cool little café and I sink some coffee. We sit in the window seat and literally just chat for hours. We people watch, which we are good at. Eventually the evening starts to loom. I give Anna a massive hug and we plan to meet up next week. Sadly we don’t, which is 100% my fault for getting busy.

Walking towards Jenny’s place I discover lots of cool places and meet some nice folks. I am pretty sure it’s the Australian thing…and I am also pretty sure this was the late afternoon I found Katz’s Deli which is famous for lots of things including Meg Ryan having a great time at her table in When Harry Met Sally. Infact, there is a sign saying something to the effect of “I’ll have what she’s having” above the actual table. But more importantly the food looks tremendous. I curse my non-appetite from lunch and vow to come back, sadly though I won’t. I enjoy walking back to Jenny’s on my own. I walk slow in a city full of fast walkers, having nothing on tonight as such to get ready for which is also kind of nice. I stop in at the little shop/deli, located nice and close on the next block to Jenny’s. I buy some BIG cans of Budweiser for an extraordinarily cheap price. I laugh at the BIG cans of Fosters too. Sheesh.

I buy Jenny some sour Skittles as the girl is partial to them. We order some excellent Mexican food in and have a semi-quiet one watching some films and listening to some music. I should point out Jenny made me watch a heap of films, mostly great too. She had this thing where she could order online new releases (Netflix) and they mail them to you, and then you mail them back. She swore by it. I can’t remember them all right now, but Owen Wilson seemingly was in three quarters of them! My favourite, given my whereabouts, was Friday Night Lights with Billy Bob Thornton. I mean, it is a great American football movie but how it got all the amazing reviews compared to Varsity Blues and Rudy I will never know.

Another cool thing for me was the time difference. When I was supposed to be sleeping, my friends back home were living their lives. What made it sweeter was that Jenny had a wireless laptop for me to use when she wasn't. Some nights I would just lay on my belly and write home. I think it helped my time away. Actually, I am sure of it. It was also an important time for my club Cronulla back home, as we had three weeks of trials before the NRL 2005 competition began. Jenny’s laptop made me feel like I was in the stands at Endeavour Field.

Sunday 20th February 2005

Went exploring on my own today down to see all the magnificently brilliant bridges. It was a dream come true actually. So vast and so important. My god, how pretty.
Michael and Jenny went out for some socializing and I was more than happy to cruise on my own. I think the fact that I was so close within the city to a heap of cool things, and the fact that it was freezing cold literally, meant that I had a lot of motivation to search around the city and even just the East Village. I would often run into Jenny and Michael’s neighbours, and most kind of didn’t really notice a stranger amongst them. This is New York after all. For some reason I kept catching the lift with the same lass Theodora, who was really cool and asked me about Australia and my business here.

Turned out she was Keith Richard's daughter, but yeah, just a sweet American lass who I small talked during my stay.I think the fact I was walking Remy three times a day didn’t hurt either as Remy really is devilishly cute. That night I had some more Mexican back down near St Marks Place, and then had some quiet drinks in a little bar near Tomkins Square
Park. Chatted to strangers who chatted to me. I ended up back at the house and Michael called telling me to meet him and Jenny in a bar called Otto’s Shrunken Head. Cool name.

As I headed out, the snow was now falling very heavily. Infact, it was as heavy as rain gets but far more enjoyable as it was way less uncomfortable.

I didn’t realise snow fell this hard, but then again I am from Sydney. It took about fifteen minutes to walk to the bar but snow does slow one down I guess. This is a proper dive too! But an awesome one. The front bar is long as skinny, and then there is a jukebox dividing it from the back room, where a proper country band is playing to a small, very drunk but appreciative audience. I am surprised not to see chicken-wire up in front of the band. We hang in the front room and drink Rheingold beer. What an awesome experience. Hanging in a lil tiny dive of a bar with my great friends. It's way too cold to leave. We drink some and then we walk back ever so slowly. I am ahead of the Jenny and Michael by a tiny bit, and then all of a sudden Michael smashes me with this massive snowball. Queenie tries to get in on it too! Too much fun. We talk silly a while, then all crash. From my space on the floor, I can see out of their high windows, and it spectacular. What a view of the city. I sleep well.

Monday 21st February 2006

Today was a great day, a cultural one even. I saw it all, or at least that's how it seemed. Or that is how it seems every day and night in NYC, at least for a stranger like me. And you know, it's not like Sydney isn't a big wild place either mind you.
This was the first time on the subway for me. And despite everyone both here and back home telling me how easy the subway is to use, sorry kids ... it still confused the life out of me! I mean, click on most of my other tour diaries and you will hear me complaining about being lost. Well, NYC as a whole was easy enough to conquer but these trains ... gosh, I don't know? So many stops, so many directions.

I will say this though; they are a great experience. All the characters you would expect to see. Cheap as chips to ride, too. Sydney trains are way different. They are wider and have two levels. These are narrower and one deck. They get pretty packed too. On the whole they seemed like a fairly safe place to be, in a sense. Always a lot of folks around, and I didn't see anything at all illegal. Having said that, the only downer about being in NYC when I was there, were reports of a few murders specifically in and around the actual subway stations we were using. There is of course, also threats of terrorism. But on the whole, it was as safe as anywhere else to be as far as I could tell. Having said all of that, I didn't particularly enjoy the subway like I thought I would..

We were off to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, also famously known as The Met. This was Jenny's idea. Infact, I would go as far as saying she made me go to The Met. And I am glad she did because even though it wasn't the highlight of my trip, it was still spectacular and informative. I can't remember the actual location where she lost the plot with excitement like she was overdosing on Sour Skittles, but it was probably either the Arms and Armour displays or The American Wing section. I cannot stress how vast this mueseum is; I'm sure you need three trips in a week to totally capture the whole experience. I thought of Scotty McIntyre as I browsed the Japanese art, I enjoyed the Modern Art sections which displayed Picasso and his pals but by far and wide my favourite spot was the American Wing with paintings, sculptures and brilliant period rooms of important figures throughout American history. I studied two courses of American history for my university degree, so this was all pretty relative. What amazed me most were these rooms of perfection. Like I mentioned, I wasn't psyched to come here, but am really glad I did. Check it out online www.metmuseum.org

We were off to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, also famously known as The Met. This was Jenny's idea. Infact, I would go as far as saying she made me go to The Met. And I am glad she did because even though it wasn't the highlight of my trip, it was still spectacular and informative. I can't remember the actual location where she lost the plot with excitement like she was overdosing on Sour Skittles, but it was probably either the Arms and Armour displays or The American Wing section. I cannot stress how vast this mueseum is; I'm sure you need three trips in a week to totally capture the whole experience. I thought of Scotty McIntyre as I browsed the Japanese art, I enjoyed the Modern Art sections which displayed Picasso and his pals but by far and wide my favourite spot was the American Wing with paintings, sculptures and brilliant period rooms of important figures throughout American history. I studied two courses of American history for my university
degree, so this was all pretty relative. What amazed me most were these rooms of perfection. Like I mentioned, I wasn't psyched to come here, but am really glad I did. Check it out online www.christojeanneclaude.net/tg.html

Around 2pm we left but the landmarks didn't stop there. Located almost outside The Met is Central Park. I can confirm it is massive, and it is awesome. I must stress, the weather wasn't too flash but this is wintertime in NYC and this is life for New Yorkers and they live their lives accordingly. And as you know, I love love love wintertime. Today was when I realised I totally had the wrong footwear for snow. The Allstars, new and shiny, were no match for cold ice. Still, my Ma had done something or another to them to make them waterproof to a degree so it wasn't all bad. But it was super hard to walk in slippery conditions. What made it special about being here in Central Park at this time was the eccentric Christo had his orange gates displayed throughout the park for about three weeks only, and lucky enough for me I got to see the exhibition. Frankly, they were hard to miss. There were over 7000 of them every twenty metres or so. Masses of people were out amongst it all. We walked for hours around Central Park, taking some snaps and just generally goofing around.
Check out: www.christojeanneclaude.net/tg.html

Jenny showed me the Strawberry Fields section of the park, which is kind of towards the back of the park so to speak. I am a Beatles fan; not an obsessed one and not a small one but somewhere inbetween. But I did feel emotional being so close to where John Lennon was murdered. The Dakota building is just across the road from this area. What made it all a little more sadder were the plaques on the seats and surrounding spots for victims of September 11, 2001. They all had little messages from their family and friends. The overcast weather and ice cold wind didn't really help these emotions, and before I knew it we were back on the subway heading towards the theatre district. We got out somewhere or another and hopped in a cab. Michael is great at all this navigation. He and Jenny have suggested Virgil's BBQ (famous for their ribs) which I think was around 44th Street. Right near Time Square and all the fancy lights. I saw some amazing things in this area.

Big sports stores and music retail chains. I didn't spend a great deal of time here, which I am ok with. I would certainly check it out again more thoroughly though given the chance. I was here one more time though on this trip, popping in on a hero / friend of a friend but he wasn't home; he was overseas himself playing shows.

We head upstairs to Virgil's and I realise I am in America. Where The Old Homestead was kind of the most high class steakhouse you could find, this was kinda different. Not like a fast food chain or anything, but just a tad less posh than Old Homestead. A lot of Americana on display. I must say, the thing about American dining is the way the waiters treat their customers. Obviously, they want a good tip and they sure do work for it. By that, I mean they become your best mate for a few hours. Nevertheless, it's a nice change. We order some drinks to start. I check out the beerlist and as I am pondering, our waiter detects my nationality. He proudly boasts they have some Fosters, and I politely but firmly tell him I wouldn't drink it back home (unless Alice's Dad's stash was the only ale left in her house) so I certainly am not going to stomach it here, and especially for seven American dollars! We go for Lonestar beer again, what with the theme of the
food and restaurant. The other thing about American restaurants I can confirm, is that they do give you very large servings. Perhaps not as big as what you have been told, but bigger than necessary I guess you could say. We have a mixture of ribs and steaks; the food is great. The cool thing about hanging out with Jenny and Michael is that they love their food, and by that I mean they know all the good places to eat (both fancy and cheap). We head off in a cab back home and I do a little bit of packing and organising as I am heading off to Washington DC tomorrow.

Tuesday 22nd February 2005

Most mornings Jenny or I would go down to the little coffee place on the next block and buy some java. Whilst it is true that American coffee isn't as strong or grand as European/Australian coffee, it's not without it's charm. Today I encountered a shop full of police, to which Jenny would later tell me were recruits at the training centre next door. We spend some time working on some new songs. Jenny likes to warm up a bit by belting out some covers, and I usually croon along too as I can't keep my trap shut in such situations. We get some work done, though it wouldn't be until my second stint in NYC later in the week until we would be firing on all cylinders.

Around 1pm I pack a little bag and my guitar and head down to Chinatown which is where my bus will be taking me to Washington DC. It's a long walk, so I cab it. Why DC? One of my best mates Matt 'Showstopper' McQuaid moved from Sydney to Washington to take up a pretty decent job. He met the wonderful Julia and soon proposed to her. Not only would I get to meet Julia and hang with Matt, but he had also set up a show for me. He has been a longtime supporter of my music; infact I would go as far as saying if he isn't the biggest supporter of what I do, then he is equally the biggest. The things this guy has said and done for me are phenomenal. It has, in all honesty, kept me going many times. He has also distributed my first album about in DC, so it would be extra cool playing there tomorrow night.

Matt had also kindly organised the bus ticket, but had failed to tell me the company could barely speak English. I saw the buses, but none of them said Washington. My geography has always been terrible, and I wasn't aware the bus would make several stops. I asked the lady at the door of the bus if this one was bound for DC and she nodded and pointed me on. As I said, she couldn't speak English so I politely stepped off the bus and asked some other folks and they confirmed it was correct. Still, the entire time I was on the road I had the nagging suspicion I was headed for Nashville! And I'm the kind of guy who, I wouldn't say I am paranoid but I can be something of that ilk. I worry with the best of them sometimes. To be honest though, with all the shit that had been thrown my way the last year and a half, I was also in this zone of not caring. Or, not so much not caring but you know, going with the flow. This somewhat carefree attitude would help me out because I must admit, I was shocked at first with the speed at which the driver drove the entire way there. Keep in mind he was driving on ice and snow. The bus was only ever half full, but he sure wanted to get us there on time. I was only hopeful he wanted to get us there in one piece as well. It was highways the whole way so I guess he was sticking mostly to the limit.

I don't read much in moving vehicles, and the scenery was outstanding the entire trip. I guess these five hours or so would be the longest time I would be spending on the road so to speak, so this was my American roadtrip. Highways, little towns, BRIDGES, lakes, small town America and big town America too. I had a notepad with me incase I was inspired, which I was. I also took snaps without trying to look too much of a tourist-dork. Did I mention BRIDGES? Sweet Moses! I guess maybe ninety minutes to two hours into the journey, we kind of came down and around this descent. All of a sudden, I see possibly the biggest bridge I have ever seen. I am overcome by excitement. I felt like someone was throwing me a surprise party, except it was a surprise party I wanted to attend. It is the Benjamin Franklin Bridge, originally named the Delaware Bridge. I had seen this baby in my bridge books. I couldn't get over the size of this beauty. Check it out at:
www.phillyroads.com/crossings/benjamin-franklin/

I tried to take as many cool snaps as I could. I just breathed it all in, and then kept following it until it was out of sight. My goodness, it was a lovely moment I will never forget. The bus then stopped pretty soon after for five minutes in Philadelphia. I guess it was their version of Central Station. Lucky for me, the bus then travelled around so the bridge (and some others I should add) was on my left as we drove along. I kinda wanted that moment to never end, although I find myself saying that a lot in life. We go past the home grounds of the Philadelphia Eagles which is pretty exciting as I love the NFL. Also right near it is their baseball team's turf as well, the Philadelpia Phillies.

The night fell early and it looked spectacular against the American sky. I could still see the more rural aspect to the remainder of the trip, and every so often the town we were driving through would be lit up by foodstops and 'gas stations' as they say round these parts. This is something I had always wanted to do, and somewhere I had always wanted to be. The moment was not lost on me. The amount of times I driven interstate in Australia, especially Sydney to Melbourne, you realise that there is a considerable distance between towns and properties all along. Here on the east coast of the States, I suddenly realised how populated this country was. Folks everywhere. I had brought some snacks with me, but I was getting pretty hungry and also a little lonesome. It wasn't really a chatty busload of travellers. Now that it was dark and my destination was getting closer, it was also harder to tell where the bus was stopping. It made a few stops where it was obvious it wasn't DC, but then some where I wasn't so sure. I had no idea it was actually going to be the last stop.

Eventually, the bus pulls up alongside some small shops and people start to get out, including the driver. This is the last stop and I am in Washington DC. It is now bitterly cold. Freezing. I grab my bag and guitar, and suddenly the place is desolate. I realise very quickly Matt and Julia are not here. I figured I was early so I stood near this grocery store. I must say, with no disrespect, this was the dodgiest part of the States I visited; as in where the bus dropped me off. Without exaggeration, about thirty metres up the road on both sides were two groups of people you might call gangs, yelling abuse at one another. I thought, in all honesty, I was a dead man. Surprisingly though, I remained calm and minded my own business whilst keeping a careful eye on proceedings. I was waiting for someone to open fire.

The area was pretty run down, and it turns out later I am told it was the drug capital of the state and where all the action goes down. As I move away from the hostility a foot at a time each moment I can, an older African-American man comes over towards me. He looks in his fifties. He says hello, introduces himself and essentially says "You're not from around here are you?" in a friendly tone. "No sir, I am not" I reply. He says "Are you from California? You look cold". I say "I'm from Sydney, Australia sir" and he immediately replies "Get out of here". I repeat the fact to him. He says "Doesn't it get cold there?" and I tell him when I left it was thirty nine celcius. He doesn't believe me. He tells me not to worry about the gangs to our right, that they are high and selling but they are only concerned with each other. He stands with me for half an hour, as I tell him my friends are late to pick me up. He tells me about his alcoholism, and how he is fighing it for the sake of his family. Without saying so, he was guarding me. Kind of saying "This fella is with me" and I appreciated it. I felt straight away that he was a kind enough person and I am usually a good judge of character. He asks about Australia and I ask about DC. Finally in the distance, I see someone who looks exactly like Matt, but he is walking away from me. I am pretty convinced it's him, so I shake the man's hand and thank him. I run off, and hesitating given where I am, I yell out to Matt. He stops, then moves towards me and it's him. I am so relieved.

He tells me he forgot where exactly the bus stop was. I hug him. Even though he gets home once a year, it has been too long. We walk to his car where Julia is behind the wheel. I quickly say hi and give her a hug too. We drive straight to a restaurant called Austin Grill, which is a combination of Texas meets Mexico. I feel like I know Julia quite well immediately, both because she is a kind, cool gal and because she is Matt's fiance. I follow my heart and go for a burrito yet again. We all have some Budweiser. Great place, good food.
We head back to their place, which is awesome. It's a big two bedroom apartment, and for the first time this trip I not only get a bed but I get a room (No disrespect whatsoever to Jenny or Matt in LA). We continue drinking some whiskey and listen to some music. The building is above a liquor store, and if you know Matt at all ... he keeps them afloat! Julia hits the hay first, as Matt and I keep chatting until about 1am. I go to my room. It overlooks the road and given the snow, just looks like a beautiful old road from some 1940's film. I sleep well tonight.

Wednesday 23rd February 2005

I was thankful to sleep in a little this morning. Matt had gone to work for half the day and would return around lunchtime to show me the sights. I made some breakfast, drank some coffee and was also able to check my emails. It's funny, you'd think being away from your daily norm would make you less likely to do such things as check emails. I guess though I did have some business going on back in Oz and I also felt better communicating with home. Most Americans have broadband which comes in handy too. I checked out Matt's stereo and on top of the pile was my as yet unreleased 'Stories You Wouldn't Believe' and Sarah Blasko's 'Overture...' album. Sums up this fella's loyalty eh. Matt's best mate is Rob Cranny, who has played a lot with me. He is Sarah's co-writer and guitarist. Sarah and I shared two educations. What I am getting at is I wasn't going to listen to my album, and I felt homesick in a sense, so I put on Sar's album. I have my own copy and am
more than familiar with it, but reading the liner notes and seeing my name there on the thankyou list, first no less, made me feel warm in the DC cold. I sent them both a thank you email right there and then.

I found ABC radio (Sydney) online, and that was hilariously cool to hear late night radio from home whilst overseas that morning. Matt came back around 12:30pm and we headed into the heart of DC. It's actually a pretty small city from what I can gather. The rough spot where the bus left me is about 4 streets from the White House. It's chilly out, but it is also a sunny day of sorts and the temperature probably reached about three degrees that afternoon. Matt has a plan and it is one I love. We go straight to the ESPN bar, which is a massive bar/restaurant themed around the sports channel ESPN. I'm talking massive cinema sized screens showing live games of anything and everything. Split screens divided Basketball, European football and a host of other things. It was awesome. We need some back home. We had some burgers and fries (heck, I was in America) and some beers. I talk about moments sometimes. This was a moment. Hanging with a close friend in such beautiful surroundings. I reckon heaven must look like this. Like in NY, I encounter super slick and friendly waiter service looking to maximise their tips.

Around 2:30pm we decide to walk off the large servings and head towards the famous DC landmarks. Near the Abraham Lincoln Memorial is an awesome looking reflection pool. Picturesque. We walk up seemingly hundreds of stairs to the spectacular Abraham Lincoln Memorial. It is worth the effort with some fascinating statues, images and plaques. Equally as moving was the Vietnam Memorial which had fresh wreaths and dedications. There is something very powerful about seeing so many names of the deceased who have died in wars. We walk around to the Washington Memorial which has a building site around it; you'd know it's image though ... a rather large, phallic shall we say symbol pointing skyward.

Pennsylvania Avenue is a hot tourist spot, and it is where you will find The White House. It is tiny eh! Well, tiny to what you might think it would be like. Security is very tight; guys the size of houses themselves armed with weapons ready to shoot. We kept walking along there and it actually becomes very pretty. High trees which are almost forest-worthy; joggers working out and some waterways to complete the picture. We head back to Matt's around 5pm and unwind. We play some Madden 2004 which looks alltime. My Vikings don't go well against his NY Jets. Julia arrives home soon after and we get ready to go to the show.
It is dark and freezing when we arrive at the Velvet Lounge. I think this is the smallest decent venue in town, holding around eighty people I'd say. It's a pretty cool place; downstairs is the bar to hang out in between acts and then you walk up some pretty skinny stairs to enter an intimate band room. The size of the stage is decent considering how small the room is. The owner/booker/sound guy introduces himself and gives me a tour of the venue. Nice fella. He tells me of Bluebottle Kiss' last visit; I think they have played here a few times actually. We meet the other acts who soundcheck, and then head off to grab a bite. Matt, Julia and I find a cute little restaurant a block away but I don't eat much before I play.

Back at the venue we start to sink some. I catch the end of the first act who had a modest crowd in attendance. The second band are great, and have pulled some folks in here tonight. Downstairs, I socialise with Matt's friends who are all friendly and have come along to support me. I am told Bob Mould has played here countless times which inspires me as you can imagine. About half an hour before I set up, Matt's mates Mitchell and Karen arrive to much cheering. They are from Sydney and are now in the real estate business in DC. Turns out they are big admirers of what I do. I was a little nervous about meeting Mitchell because he is no ordinary man. He has played for Australia in rugby union and much closer to my heart, played first grade rugby league for Manly and North Sydney. I remember we had him back when we bought footy cards as a kid. Bigtime. Mitchell Cox. Google him.

had met Karen briefly in Sydney; Matt's sister Samantha had brought her to the show at the Sando in Sydney in December 2004 where I played with Hayden but they arrived late and I had played already, and it was long sold out anyway. It doesn't take Matt, Mitchell and myself long to start talking footy. It's not that often you can chew the ear off a former first grader; still I would have to wait until later cause I was due on soon. I meet a few more of Matt's mates who have turned up and I'm feeling good about playing.

The thing I learnt about playing overseas that, performance wise, it is exactly the same as Australia. If you play well and people are partial to what you do, you will win them over. If you suck, then you won't. Obvious to state I know, but I didn't realise it until I actually did it. And when I did, it was a wonderful feeling. I set up pretty quick and got into it. It was about 10:30pm and the set was something like:
You Better Stop Breaking My Heart
Town Where You Were Born
Breakdown
Highway 29 (Bruce Springsteen cover)
Goofy
Moon and the Stars
747
Scotty Come Home
Wyoming
Boy's Don't Cry (Cure cover)
House Near Bridge.

I played a Bruce song at every show whilst in America. Felt right to do so. The American crowd also really enjoyed Wyoming each night too, and many times I had a giggle mid song when they had a giggle at the lyrics.

It was so special to play for Matt and his crew there, and others had hung about as well which was great. I even met a couple who had come to see who this Australian with the unusual surname was. More than I could have hoped really. During 'The Moon and The Stars' Matt, Mitchell and a few of the crew were singing along word for word which kind of startled me and pleased me all at once. It was strange, but I kept talking about Australia inbetween songs. I'm not sure why but it got to the point where I even said "Why do I keep talking about Australia? I'm here in Washington. Fuck Australia!" and then I felt so guilty I apologised to the people and to my nation. People laughed loudly in that way my friend Bruno does when I am not trying to be funny. Some kind folks come up and say hi, some buy some cds. I actually did well out of selling cds thoughout my journey; not only did it mean people were connecting but it helped me and my pockets out as well. Tonight it feels like they don't get too many solo dudes through here, but I know for a fact that isn't true. I think it was more that I was the lone solo dude on show tonight.

We hang about for thirty minutes and then a whole bunch of us go back to Matt and Julia's. It was bitterly cold outside. Finally, I sit with Mitchell and we talk rugby league for an hour. I try not to mix drinks ever, but tonight it's whiskey and beer. With Matt, Mitchell and Karen around I wasn't short of a drink all night and into the morning. I tell Mitchell how the Sharks are just getting their act together after the whole Chris Anderson debacle and I try to get some goss out of him about the bad man. They played together at rep level I am pretty sure, and he told me a few things which didn't surprise me. Matt (getting drunk by now like most of us) chimes in by saying "Mitchell looks like Chris Anderson" to which I spit my drink out all over the place. I tell Matt not to be so offensive!

Some nice folks leave as Matt, Julia, myself, Mitchell and Karen go into the lounge room to listen to some tunes. Karen is very complimentary about my music and songs, grilling me about what I do and who they are about. She compliments me for about half an hour. We talk about home, real estate and DC. The Cox's have a place for me to buy. I tell them that's great, and when I have some money I will be in touch. It could be five to ten years. Matt asks what time my bus is leaving and the Cox's are shocked. They tell me there is no way I am getting the bus back to NYC. I'm like "Yeah, it's all booked". Karen says to Mitchell "We have to get him onto the train" and I am blushing saying "Lovely gesture but ..." but they were so determined to buy me a ticket. I kept saying no. I swear I did. I told Matt to tell them. They kept saying I had no say in it.

Julia heads off to bed as she has to be up relatively early. This will be the last time I will see her for some time. I give her a big hug and thank her for everything. The four of us drink some more, and it's getting messy. As the Cox's leave around 1:30am they tell me to call them in the morning and they will take me to breakfast, then the train station. They tell me if I don't, they will just come get me anyway. I am more than flattered by their kindness. Matt shows me a last surprise he has bought for me, and we dispense of that in a calm but drunken haze. I thank him for everything - friendship, hospitality, promotion and shouting me places. The bloke would hardly let me buy him a beer. He kept saying I had come out of my way to see and play for them; well I did but it was all my pleasure, believe me. A truly wonderful couple of days. We hug and I crash in my room. I take some photos of the surroundings outside, as I will in the morning too.

Thursday 24th February 2005

Matt wakes me about 8:30am and he is all dressed up for work. I ask him what I should do about Mitchell and Karen's offer and he says straight up "They wouldn't insist if they didn't want to mate, and take a look at the weather ... you are safer on the train and it is a great trip". We say goodbye, which is always kinda sad for us. Matthew McQuaid, one of the great human beings. I shower and have some coffee. I call Mitchell and he says they'll be over in an hour. I feel guilty but appreciative. I head outside with my luggage where the snow is steady. Karen and Mitchell take me to a great diner across town. A proper, old fashioned American diner. I love it. We even sit at the counter and the waitress pours us coffee like she was in a movie, or better yet a Tom Waits song. "Get another cup of java, it's just the way she pours it for you jokin' with the customers". We're all a little more sober this morning, and we talk a little footy still though also,
again some real estate. Tempting. The Cox's love life here in DC, and want others to follow them. I eat a big, hot breaky.

We head out and drive to the train station, I guess their Central Station so to speak. There is no where to park, so Karen stays in the car. I thank her for her kindness and praise. Mitchell takes me into the main area and we line up for a ticket at Amtrak. I keep thanking him and he keeps laughing. He leads me to the right platform and I say a final thanks. Wow, I have been hanging out with a genuine league star ... and a heck of nice bloke too.

I find a window seat and get comfy. It is so picturesque, snow on the tracks and all that jazz. Love it. I take some photos, not too successfully. It's pretty crowded but not too bad. The first memorable thing to happen is a thirty something guy sits down to my left, and for an hour loudly discusses the basketball finals with his bookies, then places a whole lot of change on some games. For some reason, this excites me. I choose not to sleep the whole way. I want to remember this trip. The view is amazing. America by train in the snow. I love it. One negative was how lame security was. For a country so obsessed by it, and quite rightly so, I was shocked that there were no security checks at all. I people watch. I am good at that. We stop every now and then. I am surprised, given my dodgy geography knowledge, to be in Baltimore. I immediately think of the Counting Crows song 'Raining In Baltimore'. Thing is, it's snowing in Baltimore. The moment is not lost on me. I don't have a phone to call Scotty Mc back home.

You can tell when we head into NYC as the train gets a little busier. I'm sort of unaware, again, on where I am getting out but the train makes it easier for me by just making it a last stop kind of thing. I notice the change in me, in that I am not in the least bit freaking out about such things. I work my way up Penn Station and follow the masses of people. I get outside to find a dreary old afternoon and look for a cab. I am too tired to try and subway it, and I figure I have pushed my luck and succeeded with this whole "I know where I'm going" thing. Unfortunately, I have caught the Thursday peak hour mad rush for cabs. I find myself in a long line which isn't moving. I should point out, this moment and the next hour would be the coldest I have ever felt in my entire life. Without doubt. It was unbelievable. And it's not like I wasn't rugged up, but clearly it wasn't enough. At one point, a man on a bicycle pulling a cart stopped and asked who wanted a ride for $20? Two ladies quickly took him up on the offer, but I was heading to Jenny's and it was snowing.

My hands were frozen. I had my guitar and bag. It was the only time on the entire trip where I thought to myself "This is bullshit". What made the moment lighter was that I realised Madison Square Garden was right behind me. Oh the history. Concerts, sport, sports entertainment. I want to call my brother and tell him I can hear the ghost of Gorilla Monsoon. It was an exciting moment. Finally, I got to the front of the line and was hailed a cab. When I got to Jenny's I went to the little store to get some beer, and some sour Skittles for JQ. I get out of the lift to see Remy the dog going nuts in the hall. Jenny sometimes would sit and talk with her young neighbour and their dogs would run around. I high five the Queen and have a shower to warm up.
Michael is away on business, so the Queen and I have a quiet one with dvds, burritos and junk food. It is more than fun. She is a minx. I sleep awesomely well.

Friday 25th February 2005

wake up feeling crooked. Or crook, in any case. Could have been the hyperthermia I encountered outside Madison Square Garden yesterday. It is 1pm. I ache all over. I ask Jenny why she didn't wake me this morning and she says something to the effect of she did, but I went straight back to sleep and I looked like I needed it. I had noticed jetlag since I landed, but it wasn't a problem. If anything, it helped me sleep better than ever. I have a hunch though that my aches were both natural (the ice on my hands yesterday) and not natural (the whole flying thing). Either way, I am kind of powerless to do nothing buy lay here on my thin but cute lil' bed. How embarrassing though.

One of Jenny's best friends has come round, the very cute Morgan. I kind of say hello, and try to sit up (in my blue pyjamas and all) but I just crumble back down. I try and have a normal conversation whilst fixing my hair with my hands but there is nothing normal about this. Morgan has come to see Jenny, and there is an Australian boy in blue pyjamas laying on the floor trying to look cool even though he is doped up to the gills. "Way cool Shinazzi" I think to myself. The gals head out and I sleep. I feel guilty being in NYC and sleeping, it is after all ... oh c'mon ... you know the line ... "the city that never sleeps" :) Nevertheless, I figure I will get better now and party within twenty four hours. I am close, anyway.

Sleep is only interupted by checking out Jenny and Michael's cable television. Now back home, we have around fifty channels I guess? And I enjoy it, you all know that. Uuuum, these guys have over seven hundred channels and no, I am not pulling your leg. The problem I found was there were like eight shows on at once I wanted to see! Caught some new ep's of Degrassi, as they are ahead of Oz. Am pleased to say they have improved ... (Improved on the first new series I mean). The thing I liked was they had channels dedicated to specific things. The soccer channel, the soap channel and so forth. Anyway, I passed my sick day by realising how vast television can be. I also noticed every single advertisement was either about medication to ease your pains, or people who could sue other people or companies on your behalf, for your pains. It was fascinating in all seriousness. And a little sad too.

Saturday 26th February 2005

There are some things in life you never expect to do. For me, driving through New Jersey with Bruce Springsteen on the stereo was one of them. When Michael announced to me he was taking us to Jersey today, I just couldn't stop smiling. New York is a very pedestrian friendly city. And it encourages public transport. This makes seeing non-cab vehicles in the city streets pretty rare compared to where I am from. Until today, I didn't even know Michael had a car. He and I walked to his parking station place which was a good twenty minute walk. We go past those cool basketball courts where some guys are shredding. I say cool because I saw Ben on Felicity playing there whenever he got angsty, which was often. Anyway, Michael tells me how much he pays for parking a month, and as I pick myself off the ground he then tells me its a great price. This is a very different way of life but you know, I'm certainly not against it. You just cannot park in New York City.

We pick the Queen up back at the apartment, and we are on our way to Jersey baby! Even Remy the Dog has joined us for the adventure. We pass all the classic bridges which I never fail to get excited about. I take some snaps of the Brook. Jenny and Michael were kinda laughing at my excitement, though deep down they knew my love of these structures. It was one after another and it was phenomenal. We went past the area where the World Trade Centre Towers were and I have to say it was pretty intense. I had stumbled onto it from a distance the other day but didn't feel the need to go any further. I mean, the whole thing kind of feels personal in a sense because I was watching it on television when it happened. I saw the second plane hit live. Whatever your politics, it was a tragedy beyond words. To see it up close driving by and around it was surreal, thought provoking and unimaginable. I say this because you have no idea how vast the area was. The hole in the ground is massive compared to how you may have imagined the two thin looking towers may have been. It becomes obvious to me that they were anything but. Anyway, I don't want to be a downer 'cause today is a happy day.

Now, as I hinted above, this was a big deal for me. I discovered the Boss, like most other mainstreamers in Oz, around the time of Born In The USA. It was the first album I bought and although I knew nothing of it's politics because I was so super young, I knew this was important and from the heart. As you know, I have since grown into a Springsteen obsessee'. And Jersey makes up so much of what he sings about, and who he is. To see first hand the landscape, environment and the people who he is singing for was just overwhelming in a beautiful way. I could go on and on about this, and if I do then excuse me.

We line up to use the Holland Tunnel, which pretty much takes you under the Hudson River and when you emerge sometime later, you're in Jerseyland. I can't recall how long it took, but because it was a weekend it was quite congested. I remember the descent of the road, and then coming up through the end of it. Upon entering the tunnel, there were significant numbers of police and I guess they had the right to stop any suspicious looking cars. Months later, the tunnel would be subject to terrorist threats.

Jenny tells me how bizarre the first thing you see when you come out of the tunnel is a car yard type of situation, and indeed I do see it. The signs tell me I am in New Jersey, but they needn't have. I sensed it. It's certainly not New York anymore, and it amuses me when I soon discover the rivalry between NY and NJ. We continue along the highway and it's already looking more rural. I snap away at lots of the Jersey sights, and we crank the Boss up nice and loud. I just couldn't stop smiling. We stop at the Blue Swan diner in Oakhurst NJ. It is a classic American diner. Older waitress, coffee, massive meals and families enjoying them on this Saturday afternoon. I have a burger, fries (as they say here) and salad. It is one of the biggest servings I have ever had in my life. I people watch. This place sure is popular.

We continue on our journey into the true heartland. We head to the shore and one cannot help but think of all the girls, cars and characters in Bruce's songs. I use the word characters, but we all know they are real. We goof it up on the beach. Remy the Dog goes nuts. Reminds me of home sorta. Despite the sun almost shining, I cannot tell you enough how cold it was. In all the shots I am shimmering. It was beautiful though, and I loved every minute of it. I didn't want to leave.

We kept driving through the suburbs and they changed from suburbia to almost country towns. We drove along this one stretch of road, a main road I guess you would say, and it was just amazing to watch it all. I got into trouble off many for saying I enjoyed my brief time in Jersey as much as NYC, and I understand why. I guess though, I just wanted to point out that not only was it important for me to experience some of that (my Graceland etc if you follow my drift) but it was great to see the other side of New York so to speak. New York is amazing and phenomenal; everything they say it is. It is magical. And the magic didn't wear off once. I would loved to have stayed there. But seeing Jersey in the middle of my trip made me realise not everyone can live in NYC. There is something very real about Jersey, and it kind of reminded me of where I grew up.

Before heading underground again, we stop in a big mall. It has the biggest car park I have ever seen.
The traffic was pretty bad going from NJ to NYC. It took an hour or so to get back into the tunnel. I didn't care; I was with my friends in the backseat of a car in Jersey ...

Sunday 27th February 2005

enny and I work on new songs. I can get used to this cold weather. I already have infact. Michael has some business tonight, and Jenny is going out to hang with some friends. They double check if I will be ok, and offer to take me with them. I tell them they are amazingly gracious hosts, and that they should not worry about me whatsoever.

Around 6:30pm I head out to grab a bite. I don't stray from the burritos I have been loving. I head back down towards 7th Street I think, and enjoy another Mexican delight. I wander around slowly, walking back towards my home turf. I stop in at a bar around 11th street and have two quiet cold ones on my lonesome. There seems to be a lot of cool little bars which don't seem to house to many folks, yet they seem content within themselves. This one is great. They look like dives, which I kind of like, but they are pretty friendly inside. I meet some folks from Canada ("Canada Eh", sorry! Why does that place cop it so much from the rest of the world!? Seems great to me). They tell me NYC winters are a little lighter than theirs. I tell them I don't believe them. I also tell them back home, it is about 35c, which they convert and then almost faint. We swap numbers. Seems like they Australians. Eh.

I gave out Jenny and Michael's number a lot when I was in NYC. I probably shouldn't have though. I wander back towards home and buy some cheap American beer. I love the fact I can walk into any convenience store and buy beer. All sorts of beer, for a reasonable price. I wish this would take off in my homeland. Jenny has told me it's ok to use the phone a little as they have ok rates to Oz. I call my family when I can, and check up on little Fred. I miss him so. I speak briefly with my bestie Alice. She loves the city I am in, so it's kinda surreal yet special for me to be here living it up. I watch some more crazy tv and play guitar, working on some ideas for Jenny's new songs.

Monday 28th February 2005

Jenny and I spend today working on songs. We kind of have a plan and kind of don't. It's how we work best. I have brought some songs over for her which she has fine tuned lyrically in her own way, and I have some instrumental songs as well for her to own. She also has her own melodies and words to which I help make come alive. It's our roles thus far in this whacky relationship called Jenny Queen and Sam Shinazzi.

I sit on the top of her expensive lounge playing my guitar and checking out the New York City skyline, pausing every now and then to wrote scribbly style in my notebook. This process of writing new songs would take from the day I arrived until the day I leave to get it all together in a reasonably working state, but we get there in the end, and today was our most creative day.

Jenny is kinda sick of using her dictaphone to record on, and I can't blame her really. I mean, it is sentimental because it's pretty much how we wrote her first album but the sound is dodgy and it seems like seeing as I have flown across the world to help write some newies, we should maybe try and record them half decent as well. We look into finding some cheap studio time but as I am leaving very soon, it turns out to be impossible. The next best solution was to buy some software and a microphone. We make a few calls and find a suitable music store back towards Broadway.

It is ice cold today. Some days it got as warm as 3 degrees celcius, but mostly it was below 0. Today was around minus 5 with a pretty bitter wind chill. I honestly liked it though! Yeah, it was occasionally uncomfortable but overall I was very happy. We caught the subway around 2pm. I must say that wherever we were, it was probably the one time I experienced a little bit of NYC how it used to be. Nothing dodgy or anything, but the subway we got out at was pretty filthy and stunk a bit! We walked a while to the store. Just as we found our destination, we decided to eat. Queenie points out a place which is like Subway, but it's called something else. I have one of those 'I'm an Aussie in a strange land' moments when ordering; we go for a meal deal kinda thing, so I get a sandie and a drink but then the girl says "What sort of chips do you want with that?" and I'm like "Excuse me?" and she repeats the question. Queenie was off finding a seat for us. I tell the girl I don't think we ordered chips and she says "No, they come with the meal" so I reply "Cool, chips it is then". She says "What sort do you want?" and I'm thinking of course she means 'fries' but for some reason, she is speaking more like home and means hot chips. Queenie comes over and clears up the matter. For some reason they are giving us a bag of potato chips with our sandwich and drink. I kinda sigh and shake my head with a laugh. I tell the girl I am from Australia, like it's an excuse for being alien-like. Pretty tasty sandie I should point out.

We head to the music store and a pretty friendly dude shows us a bunch of software and microphones. After a while of testing them all out, Jenny makes her purchase and picks up a microphone stand as well. We end up getting cab back home because we have a fair bit to carry and it would be pretty hard on the subway. We are exhausted when we get back to the apartment. We try and set up the recording gear but have some trouble in doing so. Jenny calls the store and they give some instructions but it's still not happening. Michael comes home, and having vast experience with such things gets it all working. Jenny makes the executive decision to record tomorrow. It will be my last day, and means I probably won't get to catch up with Anna again or meet Robert (Mary-Ellen's brother), but I am here for a reason and I look forward to recording tomorrow. Boy loves to record.

We head out for what is promised to be an excellent, classic American dinner. This is exciting for a boy from Sydney Australia. Well, for this boy anyway. It is bitter cold tonight; the snow and wind is just taking over the city! We go to an awesome little bar down near 2nd Avenue and St Mark's. Jenny wants to take some promotional shots of herself and I guess myself, within a suitable environment. The bar seemed like the most suitable. We take shots inside, and I am a little uncomfortable as you'd imagine (there are people here drinking!). The things I do for the Queen. We head out onto the street and take some. I proudly put on the Cronulla Sharks beanie I have grown up with my whole life, and I show it off to New York. Even Jenny will wear it to spice her photos up later on. Now, those who know me well know that the camera flash and I do not get on. See, my eyes tend to close when bright lights appear. It's a real, proper problem. You may, or may not, see some of these shots I am describing; they would have been killer had I opened my eyes! I also notice I look chunkier than I was, (not that there's anything wrong with chunky ... and I was on a burrito and ten beers a day diet) but with all my layers of clothing in some shots I look quite bigger than I was at the time).

We head down the street to Paul's Palace, apparently a NYC institution and I can see why. Their signs claim they are the best ("The best Jerry") and I'm not going to argue with them eh. They also seem to love the NY Jets and Mets respectively. We sit down in the front corner looking out onto the street and it is picturesque in that traditional American cultural way. We have these massive burgers and "fries" which are in all honesty, pretty damn special! On all the surrounding walls there are photos of decades gone by. It's a shame I only found this place on my second last night. Outside, Jenny and I take some goofy shots of us pretending to eat the lifesize shaped burger and fries. Jenny has the Sharks beanie on. Sigh.

On the way back to the apartment, Michael suggests we stop into this cool little bar. Like I have mentioned, there are literally hundreds of these around the place. This one is pretty quiet which I like, and keep in mind it is also a Monday night which is always going to be quiet. We watch the second half of a NBA basketball game. It was pretty exciting. Jenny plays songs on the jukebox. We drink a little too. Once we get back, I offer to walk lil Remy around the block and even pick up poop too. It's a law here, though whether it's a written law or not I don't know?

Have I told you all about the parks near Jenny's place? They are incredible. The very next block has a pretty big park for dogs to walk around (In NYC everyone has a dog for some reason!). The gardens are nice, there are some old statues and park benches. They are situated away from the road enough for it to be pleasant. I spent many minutes everyday in this one, and one across the road as well. I took some great snaps of the snow at night too. I cannot keep telling you how safe this part (and most parts I saw) of NYC is. These days, a park in Sydney at night is dangerous compared to here. I don't wanna get political though. We have a reasonably early night as we're all tired, and have plenty on tomorrow.

Tuesday 1st March 2005

This is my last full day in New York City, and it was an eventful one. Jenny and I were heading out for something to eat before we started recording. Her apartment complex is pretty sweet; I told you about the doorman but I didn't tell you she has an ATM machine on the ground floor. I find this both amusing and impressive but hey, that's just me. So whilst Jenny was withdrawing some cash, something pretty amazing and insane happened. I was daydreaming out the big glass windows thinking about goodness know what, when all of a sudden I see someone I know walking past on the street. I say to Jenny pretty casually at first "That's Katie Holmes!" I then repeat that line straighaway much louder "That's Katie Holmes!". Before Jenny can say a word, I run out the door. Now, keep in mind a few things:
-This was pre-April 05 (when Katie Holmes met, and for whatever reason shacked up with the little man).
-This was the girl who stole my heart in my favourite series of all time.

I mean, those close to me knew I wanted to marry this gal. If you have my first mini album, then you have 'Girl From Toledo'; a song about Katie Holmes. But again, keep in mind this was a normal, down to earth talented actress who in many ways hid from the spotlight. It wasn't whom you see currently. I am thinking this is fate. One of the most beautiful girls in the world whom I have watched grow up through six brilliant series of DC and her expanding feature films list. This has gotta be fate, right? Friends ask me why I ran out the door like a madman if I wanted to make a good impression on her? The thing is, she was walking at a steady pace past the window so by the time I was out the door, she was maybe thirty feet in front of me and still walking. All I know is I wanted to say hi, and tell her about what that show means to me. She's a cool gal who loves Kevin Williamson too, she'll understand. As I walk briskly behind her, (I can't shout out, she'd be freaked by that for sure) two girls turn the corner to the street and walk past her, then past me. I hear them say "Wow, Katie Holmes". There wasn't a doubt in my mind but it was exciting to hear some confirmation.

Katie turns right down at the corner, walking near the park. As I turn the corner, my heart breaks. She steps into a cab maybe twenty feet away and it takes off. She is gone. I never got a chance to tell her things. Things!

I slowly walk back and Jenny is waiting inside for me. She tells me it probably wasn't her, but I will talk for hours about how it actually was her. Jenny makes sense in what she says, how I probably had dreamt of this day and I thought I saw her because I wanted to see her. It would take two days for Jenny to believe me; she read something about Katie living nearby and Jenny sent me an apologetic email. It was something I will never forget. Like I said, keep in mind she was my favourite. She was the one. I have seen and met a lot of people I adore. I don't necessarily freak out over famous people as a rule.

Here is what I remember:
She had a beanie on. It may have been dark purple, navy or black. But she had a beanie on, just like in Dawson's. She was talking on her phone, holding it in her left hand. Her hair was long. She was tall. If I'm 5'9, she would have been 5'7 at least. The reason I know it was her, was that her brow was furrowed! Just like on Dawson's. She was talking and it was furrowed. I told Jenny I probably wouldn't be able to do anything today; I just wanted to sit and ponder. She ignored me. We head back to the apartment and we get ready to record.

We plug the guitar in, and Jenny records both me and her singing at the same time. Seemed the most natural way to do things. It took some time. We wanted it to be the best it could, as I wouldn't be seeing her for some time. We went from around 1pm til 7pm, and it came out pretty cool for some scratchy demos. Something we could work towards anyway. I am really proud of the songs we completed, and in some ways I think they are stronger than the ones on her first album, which is saying a lot because folks really like that one. We like it too. But I think if these new ones can see the light of day sometime, with some production they will be even better. Either way, I have had a blast writing again with Jenny. We are both worn out. For me personally, it has been an emotional day as you'd have read above. Add the fact that I was leaving this amazing city in the morning, and leaving my friends, and I was pretty sad about it all. I mean, happy in that I was off to LA to hang with the Braaten's, but sad nevertheless.

I walk Remy in the park, hoping Katie Holmes will walk past again. She doesn't. I try again one last time before bed. Negative. Despite it being my last night, we decide to stay in and just laugh and hang. Jenny and Michael double check with me and I am fine with it. They are my dear mates and wherever I am with them, it will be fun. We get Mexican and I pop downstairs for some beers from the lil store. I have bought from here many days now, and I feel like saying goodbye to the guy behind the counter but I figure he has a gun and he probably will think it strange anyway.

That night as I lay on my makeshift bed which I had actually become pretty fond of, I looked up at the amazing skyline. I thought about things. How this trip had affected me. How it had made me stronger as a person. How it had made me happier in the moment. And how it had made me realise the things that I really wanted. It had always been clear, but somehow being across the world away from home things became even clearer. It gave me ambition and hope again. It was everything ... the city, the people, the experience, the solitude, the surroundings and my friends.

Wednesday 2nd March 2005

Michael and Jenny wake me around 8am. They are off to an appointment uptown and remind me that I have a plane to catch at midday. This is goodbye. Sad. I thank them over and over for everything. I am in my PJ's as they head out the door. I miss them already, and kinda don't know what to do with myself now. I pack all my clothes and things together as best I can. I have felt bad for my sprall of belongings here in their apartment because behind the lounge was my stash of everything. I'm not exactly neat, but I have tried my best. I make some toast, and a quick sandie for the road. I am all set to get the subway to JFK Airport. I am told it is ultra cheap, but Jenny also said if I had a lot of luggage that it could be troublesome. I look down at my lot; a big bag ... a smaller bag ... a guitar. I must admit it wasn't the easiest of things to juggle on my way to NYC. I suddenly have this great wave of fear come over me. I'm on a budget, and don't even have a lot within that budget. A cab is expensive. Oi Vay, with the conversion rate it is bloody expensive! Nevertheless, I have learnt to breath in and breath out ... so I do. Cab it must be. Flight is at midday. Need to be there 10:30am. Takes 40 minutes to get there by cab.

I shower, double check everything, leave a note for my lovely hosts, hug Remy the Dog goodbye and head for LA. I say goodbye to the doorman, and wait outside for a cab. Ten minutes later I am worried. Getting a cab in NYC is a given. None stop. I start to get the panics again when one pulls up. We turn right, exactly where Katie turned right. Sigh. We then stop. Traffic. Weird traffic in a one way street. Five minutes go by. The driver stops the meter and I thank him. I am not sure whether to worry more now about making the plane on time, or how much this is gonna cost me. I start to worry about the time. Finally we get back onto a main drag and I see Monk's! The cafe from Seinfeld. It actually wasn't overly far from where I was based I don't think. It's one of the few things I wasn't able to get to, so this kind of makes up for it. Awesome. Cab driver does well, getting me there just on time to check in.

American Airlines. A six hour flight. I'm kinda tired but also so excited to be hanging with my buddy Matt Braaten in LA. As I get to my aisle seat of the middle section, a fella asks me if I mind sitting two across so his family can be together. I agree, and he notes the accent. "Australia eh?". He was from Canada and spoke of his love for Australia, having spent time in Melbourne. Nice guy.
I decide to read, and end up finishing the Midnight Oil biography. Incredible band and kind of relevant as much it is about their success in America and the compromises they were, and were not willing to make. I grew up on this band through my brother and will love them forever. It's a great read.

I sleep a little, waking up however to the back of my seat being kicked by a little angry dude, and his Mum trying to get him to behave. She apologises and I give her a sympathetic smile. They are Australian. I laugh out loud when I realise the father/husband is sitting on the other aisle, with his wife and two bratty kids across in the middle section. Every now and then he leans over and threatens the kids in his best Australian swanky lawyer voice. These people totally make me blush to be an Aussie. Out of control kids I will tolerate, but parents who should know better I won't. Oh, their annoying voices! I decide to thrown down some Dr Pepper for a change. Funny taste but a bit more of a kick. American Airlines isn't too bad by the way. Every now and then I would have that thought of "What if...". Then realism would kick in; there is nothing I could do now anyway. Interesting piece of trivia was that on my flight to LA and my flight from NYC to LA there was a Rabbi on board.

I collect my luggage, though the Maton is a little late to come out. I check it out and it seems fine. I walk to my pre-arranged meeting place at LAX and wait for Matt. It's 330pm, they are three hours behind NYC. It's nice weather, probably about 17 celcius. That's 17 up on NYC. I am wearing my Vikings top to meet Matt, as is he originally from Minnesota. Oh, Matt. I better back up eh?

I met Matt Braaten around 1993/94 I think. T-Bone Taylor, his brother Mark and I had gone to Manly Youth Centre to see You Am I play an all ages show. It was classic You Am I for me, when Tim Rogers wanted to be Paul Westerberg. Phenomenal show. Afterwards, Mark tells us he fell over in the crowd and this American dude from Minneapolis picked him up. They got talking and he'd seen Bob Mould and Paul Westerberg play in his time which impressed the heck out of Mark and I. He came up to us and started chatting, his name was Matt. Lovely guy. He was leaving Manly to go home Stateside in the morning. He'd fallen for a bunch of Oz acts including You Am I, Screamfeeder and Smudge. We sat in my car and spoke for about an hour about Minneapolis and Sydney. Mark and I loved Husker Du and the Replacements. We were kids and they'd already broken up, so to hear about them from a native was rare and amazing. We said goodbye and I thought "What a champ". Fast forward a month, and Screamfeeder are at the Caringbah Inn. I remember Matt had left his details with Tim from Screamfeeder, incase they ever came through town. Knowing Tim was a massive Husker Du fan, I knew he'd remember Matt and that's how I got his details. We soon became pen pals and friends. Matt came back out around 1998. I hadn't seen him since, but through email, paper and phone became very close mates. He has always been a massive supporter of my music. He is a fantastic actor. He has been working away at his craft since college, and finally is starting to make inroads in LA. He is also a handy singer who happens to look a lot like Beck.

So here I am in LA waiting on the bloke I met at a You Am I show in Manly. Small world. Quite a few dodgy people stop by to say hi trying to get some cash out of me. A religious dude selling bibles, a man working for children's charities etc. One every fifteen minutes hit me. Matt is about an hour late but I know I am in the right place, so I just chill and take in LA. I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn to see a beautiful young lady. She starts sussing me out, asking about where I'm from etc. It takes about five minutes to work out she too, is a scammer! All of a sudden she says something like "I've got a business plan I'd love to tell you about" and heartbroken, I say no thanks.

One of the great things about America is the people. I experienced quite a lot of folks who would be walking in the opposite direction and just as they pass me be, they'd say something to me but then keep on walking. In NYC I got a lot of "You play guitar huh?" and I would stop to kind of make conversation and whoever it was would just keep on walking. It happened at LAX. This middle aged cleaner was working around me, and when he saw my Vikings top he said "Vikings? Get out of here!" and kept on walking. It fascinated me.

Just as I'm starting to worry a little about being alone and stranded in LA, (though again, my chill pills must have been kicking in nice and good as I really wasn't overly concerned) I see a black '95 VW pull up alongside me. There he was in the flesh, my buddy Matthew H Braaten. It's so great to see him. Kind of like seeing a long lost brother or something. Pretty soon we are catching up as we drive along one of LA's infamous highways. He has been working down in Long Beach which I guess is about an hour or maybe more out of LA itself. He needs to go down there this evening and informs me we will be crashing there for the night, then heading back to LA tomorrow. "I have waited a few years now to meet Mary-Ellen Braaten so I guess another night won't kill me" I cheekily tell him.

First thing I notice about LA is that the traffic is noticable. I mean, Sydney these days is shocking, but so is this in a sense. Second thing I notice is large overhead electronic signs informing drivers of a kidnapped child and the car information on the kidnapper. It was pretty startling to see.

Matt and I gossip like two teenagers as I tell him about NYC/DC and things back home. He does likewise about LA and his family back in Minnesota. We listen to KCRW which he loves, and I must say it's pretty cool. I would end up listening to it a lot in LA, and now back home via the net.

We drive on a small freeway above Compton which is pretty fascinating for a fella from southern Sydney, although I am sure we have just as dodgy areas in Australia as does probably everywhere. Matt tells me he will drive me through there on the way back and I don't reply either way. We get to Long Beach which is a pretty suburban place and seemingly in this part anyway, kinda sleepy. Ok, Matt's job aside from acting, at least when I was there in 05 (it has since changed) was as a caretaker/organiser/kid's teacher etc for a Lutheran church. Now I should point out, not that it matters really, but Matty isn't some insane bible basher for want of a better word. He has his faith I'm sure and it just happened that at this time, this was how he paid his rent. He tells me I can hang in his office and catch up on emails whilst he is working. He leaves me to do just that and says he will come back to fetch me for dinner.

Around 6pm I wander out and see what's the hap. Matt says they are having a short, low key "service" and tells me to come check it out. I enter a church for what must be only a handful of times in my life. This one is old and actually pretty amazing to view. We sit down at the back and I see about twenty folks listening to Pastor Jim. I wasn't too interested, but my friend had to be there so I doze on and off. I whisper funny's to Matt every now and then like "Great, three hours in LA and you're trying to convert me" and "Shouldn't we be at the Viper Room by now". It was over pretty quick and no harm was done. We head over to their reception area where they have ordered a stack of pizzas.

I meet a bunch of Matt's mates including Truman who we will be staying with, and Clay who I swear is more of my background; he reminds me of my late great uncle actually. Lovely folks nevertheless and I must say, most here are of the older/retired age. It is someone's birthday, and Matt grabs my Maton from the car to sing Happy Birthday. These folks love Matty, as we all do.

Around 9:30pm we head back to Truman's place, which is a lovely big suburban house. He makes us feel so welcome. Matt and I head upstairs to our bunker, where we have a much better chance to catch up on all the goss although really it wasn't until maybe the last day of my time in LA that we had caught up good and proper. Again, I have my own room and bed. This is too good. I hang in Matt's room for a couple of hours and we talk. He tells me some amazing stories from his time in Japan a while back, and he makes me laugh a lot. We're heading out earlyish so we call it a night around midnight. It has been a long, big day. I woke up in New York and fell asleep in California. Wow.

Thursday 3rd March 2005

Matt wakes me from my slumber around 8am. It's a warmish day for winter, especially having come from NYC. As I have written over and over again, I LOVED the cold, harsh winter of NYC. Loved it. All I am saying is it took a while to get used to going from minus seven in NYC to thirteen in LA to thirty back at home in Sydney a week later. I am happy to say though, that I have experienced such change. We have a light breakfast with Truman, and then head off on the road. I should point out we would be back here tomorrow night as I am playing a show at the Portfolio Coffeehouse down the road in Long Beach. Matt has an audition for a commerical this morning, and guess where the audition is? Orange County, or better known as OC! Timely actually, as I am away right whilst season 2 is peaking back home in Australia. Michelle B has been taping it for me in my absence. (Herself, T-Bone and I have been watching it as one most Tuesdays; even Alice has been popping in to watch it). Whilst I didn't see what you may have seen on the show, we did see some pretty swish places.Matt's audition is down near this cool looking university/theatre establishment.

I tell him I will wait outside with him a while, and he comes back after signing in to practise and get in the zone. He is very professional about it all, and I will get a glimpse of what he (and others) go through when I get a first hand look at the audition waiting room on Monday. Once he is inside though today, I take a nosy walk around the surrounding streets. OC eh. We get back on the road and by now it's almost lunchtime. I tell Matt about all the Mexican I have eaten whilst Stateside, and he kinda raises his eyebrows as if to say he knows something I don't. He tells me about this authentic little Mexican restaurant that he wants to take me to. It's still in the Long Beach area I believe, and this is the most genuine Mexican place I will end up eating at on the whole trip. I actually make a mental note to breath in the whole area here, because it's somewhere which has a history, a beating soul and a tonne of character but to the naked eye could also be mistaken for somewhere that may be troublesome. In other words, I am old enough now to know not to judge a book by it's cover. At least, I think I am old enough. This is certainly a family run business, and we order some cola to wash down the Mexican goodness. A low key but fantastic place to eat.

Eventually we end up on the way back to Los Angeles proper. Keep in mind, I got off at LAX and was swept away down to Long Beach ... so I haven't even really seen any of LA outside of the airport. Matt kind of apologises a few times for the detour but I reassure him that a)I don't mind b)I had fun c)It's just awesome to hang out again. Having said that, I was keen to make LA my home for the rest of my trip. Even though there were still two more shows to play, this was the 'holiday' part ... at least that's what I was telling myself! Probably only the last day did I consider myself free to not worry about anything, although then I had to worry about 'home' stuff. It never ends eh. We head to Matt and Mary-Ellen's little place in Los Feliz, which is a pretty, seemingly well-off neighbourhood between Hollywood and Silver Lake. Although, once you get to the hills of this area is when you notice the change from middle-class/upper middle-class to rich as can be! In a very cool twist, many films have been made around this area including the brilliant Swingers which featured at The Derby and the Dresden Room respectively.

The apartment is cosy. One bedroom but with a large loungeroom and kitchen. I get a very welcome surprise when I see a full size Australian flag up on the wall and a 'Welcome Sam' sign! What lovely folks have done this eh. And it was so strange but I actually felt proud and homesick when I saw that flag, which is slightly odd because as much as I love my country and what such a symbolic icon as the flag represents in essence ... I actually cannot stand the fact that the Union Jack is on there! And that's no disrespect to my English pals ... it's just we are our own country and we should act that way, you know? Anyway, no time for politics ... I'm way too happy having seen the welcoming gifts. Turns out Mary-Ellen had made the presents for me. "Hope I get to meet this gal" I think to myself. We dump my things there and head out for a while. Eventually, Matt speaks with Mary-Ellen who is now back in the area doing grocery shopping. He tells her we will meet her there. We drive on down to Trader Joe's, which is a pretty hip supermarket. My friends speak very highly of this place for it's healthy and exciting products, at friendly prices too. www.traderjoes.com

We walk in and Matt waves at this very pretty blonde lass. Turns out it's his wife. Mary-Ellen Bratten in the flesh. Gosh, she is a pretty gal and I mean that with the utmost respect. We chat whilst shopping, and I feel pretty at ease with her as if I have been around her more than I have. Personally speaking, sometimes it can take me ages to get to know people, and to feel comfortable around them. Some of my best friends ... it has taken a year to be like that. But not with Mary-Ellen. We head back to their place and I get out their gifts from home. I had picked up an Australian singlet for Mary-Ellen which isn't too dorky, and my Ma suggested we give her some Australian made kinda skin cream I think? And a tea towel, which she requested I'm pretty sure?! Matt was a little harder. He was after some boots made downunder but I couldn't swing it. Amongst other things, I gave him an authentic Cronulla Sharks jersey of the 80's (now current) style. He put it on too and it looked great. I must say, in NYC and DC I wore my Sharks beanie everywhere; and I wore my Sharks jacket a lot too because it is so damn warm.

We have dinner in, which is a nice change for me. We spend most of the night talking. Matt picked up some exotic beer from Trader Joes so we down some of that. He plays me some commercials/short films both he and Mary-Ellen (she is an actress btw) have respectively featured in and I am genuinely blown away! We end up talking over some bad television. One show sticks out in my mind, a reality show about people having cosmetic make overs and then showing how it changed them etc. This one girl, she was 18 at the most. She considered herself ugly and it affected her personality, confidence and life. So she gets this total facelift and then they have this party for her where she appears from behind a curtain and all her family and friends are there to cheer her on. She hadn't been kissed by a guy yet, so the producers of this show organised for it to happen. They hired this actor who must have been in his forties; this yucky gross man. So the girl walks down the stairs and the actor sweet talks her, then plants his tongue down her throat. The three of us all yelled out at the same time!

It was during this that I noticed how quicky Mary-Ellen and I had bonded. I studied anthropology. I look at people. I notice things. I was on the lounge with Mary-Ellen and Matt was across from us. She had curled her legs up to next to me, and I said out loud "Look at that ... she trusts me already". So much so, that she has somehow talked me into doing a presentation for her year two class tomorrow! I tell her maybe I am not the right person for such a task, being a lil shy and all. She tells me the kids will love it and they are expecting me. Yikes! I am crashing in the loungeroom. I have both the lounge itself and a double-sized air mattress thingy to choose from. I mix it up a bit but the mattress tends to win most nights. I sleep pretty good tonight.

Friday 4th March 2005

The Californian sun woke me around 8am as the morning crept through the front window blinds and onto my face. Mary Ellen is tip-toeing around trying not to wake me as she gets ready for work. I whisper in my morning voice "Am I really giving a lecture to your students about my nation?". Matt and I have breakfast as we listen to some tunes on his stereo, pondering life as we do. I ask him what cereal we are chowing down on and he says it's 'Trader O's which is a pun on another famous American cereal 'Cheerios'. Quite tasty though eh. I tell Matt I am nervous about talking to Mary-Ellen's second graders and he just kind of laughs, telling me that they'll love me. He comes up with the idea of us doing a duet of 'Waltzing Matilda'. Oi Vay. Of course, he talks me into it too! I tell him he has to play the guitar though. We have some run throughs (we have stolen the chords/words from the net) and also rehearse some songs we are going to play tonight at my coffeehouse show. Matt has such a strong, pure singing voice.

We drive up to Mary-Ellen's school which is called St.James The Less and located in La Crescenta. It's kind of up on a higher location than LA itself; a picturesque drive from memory too. It's pretty fascinating seeing the inside of an American school in this day and age. Seems like they go to school from age five to fourteen here, all in the one school. We are checked for security reasons which is also a new experience for me; they make us show photo ID and sign some documents. We have some time so we grab a basketball and head to the courts. Shoot some hoops. Word.

Eventually it's time to head in, and we are greeted by about twenty five little guys and girls all staring back at us with this look that says "You seem kind of different but hey, we are getting out of class for you!". I make the mistake of calling Mary-Ellen by her first name, to which she corrects me by saying "Mrs Braaten". I laugh nervously. She leads me through the hour or so brilliantly, asking questions for me to reply to and lead on with. The kids know a bit about Oz, but then ask about kangaroos etc (although they are like seven years old or something). I enjoy talking about the plight of the indigenous, although I had to keep in mind a simple way of saying it all. They are obsessed with Steve Irwin (Crocodile Man as they call him). I show them some Australian money. I tell them all about rugby league, and make them promise to support the Sharks. Matt has photocopied the words to 'Waltzing Matilda' for everyone. I am asked what it's about, to which I kind of start telling the truth ... then make up something instead as it's kinda not the most uplifting tale in some regards! We sing it through a bunch of times whilst I laugh my head off. I think there is some video of it ... I get a cool snap of the whole class and us as well. I put some websites on the board of some Australian things, including sharks.com.au. I then ask if they're old enough to use the net, which they're kind of not. I tell them to tell their parents to do it then. I shake a lot of little hands, and then one little guy breaks my heart by asking "What time will you be on Monday?". As much as I enjoyed the experience, and it really was an amazing hour ... I can't help but wonder how teachers do it? I had a headache after an hour of those little tikes.

Matt and drive back to his turf. He is fascinated by real estate currently, as he and Mary-Ellen are looking to buy somewhere. We pull into this amazing house on a corner of a street in a pretty well off neighbourhood down from theirs. Open house. We walk in and the realtor gives us some flyers. He asks me what line of work I'm in and I say music. He perks up; I think he thinks I am bigger than I am :) Matt goes downstairs and seems pretty keen. It's a million. Neither of us can afford it, but it seems like a bargain given its a big house and the actual property is huge. I could get used to this kind of lifestyle.

As I've discussed before, Matt is an actor. It takes a lot of work here in LA to be such a thing. Auditions, lessons, workshops, keeping in shape, rejections from
auditions and so forth. I often thought it was the same plight as being a musician, but in most musical worlds one can create their own identity to a degree. With acting, it is a lot harder to make your own film or tv show. Image is pretty much everything in LA. This was reinforced to me when Matt took me to the hottest photography establishment which pretty much solely caters to actors picking up their new headshots. By the line of people in the store, these folks make plenty out of the acting fraternity. We join the line and wait. We seem to be talking louder than everyone else. All of a sudden, this amazingly beautiful woman enters the store and stands behind us.

A shorter, fitter Mischa Barton meets some other girl next door. If I had a ring, I would have placed it onto her left hand, no questions asked aside from the proposal. I give Matt a very specific look and he raises his eyebrows and smiles. I stop speaking and try to gather my thoughts. Matt immediately starts talking again to me, and we goof around a little. Matt starts some small talk with this lass. He brings me into the conversation stating something like "This is my buddy Sam, he is a musician from Sydney Australia". I get a handshake, and Matt would later tell anyone who would listen about how he thought I was bordering on fainting! She tells us she's an actress from Texas, now based in LA. The line is barely moving, much to my delight. About ten minutes later it's Matt's turn at the counter, so we farewell our new friend and listen to how much it's gonna cost Matty to have hundreds of headshots made up. Of course, the whole time I am watching this lass next to us. She leaves before us, and I feel a loss in my heart. That loss is lessened a few minutes later when she comes back in and heads straight towards me. She hands me an envelope and invites us to a play tonight which she is in. She leaves with a smile and "Nice to meet you". Matt is punching my arm and laughing.

Tonight I am playing a show pretty far out of LA itself. Boo! Back at Matt's we are greeted by Mary-Ellen, and I get my gear ready for the show tonight. It's back down in Longbeach near where Matt works. The Portfolio Coffeehouse to be correct. Takes a good hour at least to drive there. We take a slight detour and drive over this phenomenal bridge as I have requested. Excitement. I take some snaps as we drive. We load in and help set up the little stage. Matt is doing sound, and he actually does pretty good. We head out for a quick bite to eat, as I'm not on for a while. We end up eating some Asian goodness in this cool restaurant down the round. I certainly feel like I'm in California tonight. It's a great feeling.

Back at the coffeehouse some folks have sat down expecting a show, and a show is what they will be getting. I'm playing in the side area to the main room of the cafe, so it's almost like a seperate venue for folks to come and go. I ended up playing a very long set mainly because people were enjoying it and wanted more. It was all very relaxed and laidback, and the folks were so politely quiet. Matt opened my guitar case in front of me and put my cds for sale in them. Folks put cash in there for cds as I played which was rather sweet. I told a bunch of stories too, it was that sort of ennvironment. I told the 'Wyoming' story at each American show, and singing 'Girl From Toledo' after seeing KH in the flesh had extra meaning, as did 'I Don't Belong Here' (ie. 'The Coffeeshop Song'). The set was something like : Breakdown / Until Sunrise
Town Where You Were Born / Wyoming / Birthday / Girl > From Toledo / Moon and the Stars / Goofy / 747 / Out of the Question / Scotty Come Home / House Near Bridge Highway 29 (Springsteen) / Thunder Road (Springsteen) and Matt joined me for Tiger's Tale and some other covers which was a blast. The bulk of the audience hung out the whole show, whilst others came and went.

I thanked everyone and walked off when some people to my left on a lounge started asking for more. I didn't think they were serious until they promised to buy some cd's if we did some more. I play 'Just Thought I'd Write' and they still want more. I hesitate until this guy says "Do you know any Counting Crows?" I kid you not. Out of all their songs I have ever known word for word, Matt ends up joining me for a very dodgy version of Mr Jones (it seemed to suit the mood) and I apologised afterwards to the crowd but I am told they loved it.

I sit on the lounge with the folks who made the request, and they are lovely people from interstate. A brother and sister combo with their friends from around Long Beach. They grill me on Australia, as a lot of Americans would do; I love it. Matt introduces me to some teenage girls from his youth organisation and they are a blast. They all giggle when I use the word 'heaps'. "Oh my god Sam ... you said heaps!" Of course, I kept on saying it for them. One of them is heading to Sydney on an exchange so I write down some information and locations which I thought may be of interest.

We eventually pack up, say our goodbyes and head out to the car for the trip back to the city. I loved travelling in the car at night through America. Even for an hour and a bit, it was a roadtrip for me. Matt, Mary-Ellen and I talk about the weekend plans. It's hard to believe I have been here for three days; it seems like a week, what with all we have been up to thus far.

Back at the house we have some quiet drinks and chill with some music and telly. Matt keeps asking me if I want to go out somewhere and I keep telling him I am fine, happy and content with spending some quiet time with my friends whom I never get to see.

I sleep well.

Saturday 5th March 2005

We all sleep in a little this morning. Looking through the window it's a nice day out in Los Angeles. I have noticed there hasn't been any smog which has made my LA experience much more pleasant. We have some breakfast and then I am informed that we are going on a hike. "Oi Vay" I think to myself. Matt and Mary-Ellen put on their finest tracksuits but all I have is my winter-wear from NYC. We drive out to Griffith Park which is located at the eastern end of the Hollywood Hills. It is very much the rich end of town, and it is also amazingly picturesque. We park the car at the bottom of the hill and start to trek up. We pass a great golf course and some massive estates owned by actors and the like. The weather reminds me of Sydney in autumn: nice and even brisk until you start walking about, raising a sweat. The road winds around until you reach the peak, which honestly feels like a mountain. The road then closes and the walkway keeps on going. It's a popular spot, with many joggers passing us by. Matt tells us he is going to run the rest of the path up to the top. Mary-Ellen and I gasbag, as we continue to bond. We both laugh hard when we see Matty run around the path up above us. To put it into context, I was huffing and puffing just walking ... and I'm not overly unfit. When we get to the top the view is phenomenal and well worth the effort as the city of LA is now below me. They often film movies and television from up here, with Matt informing me 'Win A Date With Ted Hamiliton' doing it most recently. The walk back down is much easier, and we seem to do it in no time.

Matt has a few errands to run, so Mary-Ellen offers to take me to Pasadena as she has some shopping to do. It gave us a chance to bond some more and gossip too. It takes about thirty minutes to get there and when we do, it's almost a like a trip back in time. Pasadena feels like it's from the 50's or something, with a western theme thrown in perhaps? Seems like a smallish town which they have turned into a mallzone. We check out the Gap and other all American stores. We head for a Border's (I think it was Border's?) which is massive. Mary-Ellen leaves me to go find a gift for someone, so I check out some amazing American publications on music and bands which I would never have access to. I literally sit on the ground and started reading. I came across the first biography on Elliott Smith which had already received some mixed reviews. I was intent on buying it, but then started to read it random page by random page. It kinda bummed me out, and I realised that everything I was reading was negative. I know he isn't famous for being a joker, but still ... I decided not to make the purchase. I still want to read it sometime soon, but not now. I end up buying a bunch of magazines that I wouldn't have found in Sydney. Mary-Ellen comes back for me, and we grab some lunch. She is such a cool girl. As far as I'm concerned she has the world at her feet. She is educated and smart. She is a wonderful actor and has talent. She is beautiful beyond words in the most natural way. She is kind and considerate. What I'm saying is I'm so happy Matt and her found one another, and I'm so happy we are mates now ourselves. She drives this older car, and it has these seatbelts that move automatically when you open your door. The make this croaky noise and move towards you. It freaked me out! And it made me laugh everytime.

This evening Matt and Mary-Ellen had invited me out to a fundraiser for her school. It wasn't a black tie event but I did borrow some swish clothes from Matt. We walk into what resembles a scene from 90210, where they have their school dances and so forth. There are massive dinner tables and chairs, and all around the surrounding sides are gambling facilities! I ask what the go is, and I'm told we are supposed to use the Vegas tables and bid on prizes with the money going to the school. It wasn't until halfway through the night I realised the chips were not redeemable! Pity too, cause Matty and I were killing it on the blackjack table. Blackjack ... sigh. We sit and eat a pretty ok meal with a bunch of Mary-Ellen's fellow workers. The free booze isn't too bad either eh. Matt introduces me to almost everyone as the token Aussie, which is a hoot as ever.

Towards the end of the evening, the MC announces the auction, which is where you are supposed to use your real money to buy things with money going to the school. It's about now when I realise how rich most of these cats are! Holidays, TV's, vouchers all being bidded on without a second thought. I raise Matt's hand at $2500 for the Vegas holiday but he is outbidded easily. Tonight was fun and very different for me. Moments sorta stick out in a bizarre kind of way. We drive around LA some more, check out the some venues which is pretty interesting. Call it a night back at the apartment.

Sunday 6th March 2005

Matt and I do a lot of moving around today. He shows me Hollywood, as in the tourist Hollywood. Sunset Boulevard. The old Chinese Theatre. Dudes in scream masks. Mickey Mouse. The stars on the footpath with their footprints and all that jazz. Despite it being a lil seedy and over the top in a Queensland amusement park kinda way, I actually enjoyed myself very much. You know, popular culture ... it does it for me. I am a sucker for it. We see this awesomely funny, tiny bit sad storefront space where they are holding a talent quest for under 10's. We watch a young lass sing her heart out to Whitney Houston, and then hear the judges and MC talk her up. American Idol for the under 10's I guess. What was a tiny bit sad was the stage parents totally feeling every moment. I am in LA though, so I am the strange one :) We head to Amoeba which is just out of control! Check them out online at www.amoeba.com but promise me you will visit their store with three hours to spare if you're ever in LA. Promise me! It is like this massive warehouse of new and second cd's, vinyl and all things music retail. We would be back tomorrow.

We head home to chill for a while. I get all my gear together for my show tonight, and we head out to get some food. We eat at this awesome diner called Fred 62. It's open 24hrs and is brilliant. I am only bummed I discovered it on my last night in. I mean, first and foremost ... what a terrific name! Just when I was missing my little buddy Fred the Cat the most, I am eating somewhere in his honour. It is described as having "bowling alley fashion sense and classic Hollywood charm". They say recent diners have included Ben Stiller, Drew Barrymore, Naomi Watts, Britney Spears, Cameron Diaz, Mandy Moore and Heather Graham. Of course, none of them were there when I was! God, imagine Mandy and I in the one room. Hello. Imagine Naomi and I ... oh you know the list! We had a great meal of burgers and fries and salads. I had a beer but stuck to water mainly due to playing later on. I remember showing Mary-Ellen and Matt this guy at a table in front of us. He was talking on his mobile phone the entire meal, whilst his girlfriend just sat there eating her food being ignored. I pointed to him and said "That's why we blokes get a bad rap!". I think they are still trying to work out what a bloke is. www.fred62.com

We head to the Hotel Cafe venue. It's actually a very well respected room, and I was happy when I found out I was playing there. I hadn't heard the other acts on the bill, but they drew good solid crowds. That chap on the Donnie Darko soundtrack was doing a massive residency too, and recently a Stinson had graced the stage. Check it out www.hotelcafe.com to get the vibe. Sydneysiders, it's kind of like the Basement or the Vanguard but smaller and with a more lo-fi feel. Mary-Ellen ends up leaving early due to her work in the morning, but one of Matt's film mates turns up to entertain us. He works more on the carpentry side of things I think. Nice dude.

I end up playing the late shift, around 10:30pm. To be fair, I guess you could say I didn't bring a massive fanbase with me. The people who stayed though seemed to dig it. This was my last night in America and I wanted to go out with a bang. I played a longer set than planned, and the staff there were amazingly cool! By the end of the night, it was just us and them ... and the Springsteen cover went down a treat! It was funny, I kind of felt like I was playing for Matt and I didn't want to let him down. I made friends with the sound guy as he was a massive Wilco fan (he played them all night) so we gossed about them for a while.

The set was something like : Breakdown / Until Sunrise / Out of the Question / Goofy / Town Where You Were Born / Better Stop Breaking My Heart / Highway 29 (Springsteen)/ Wyoming / Night For Remembrance / House Near Bridge w/Born To Run interlude). We have a few quiet ones on the house, I sell some cd's and I leave some cd's for the staff. Outside it's a little brisk. I remember checking out a newstand which seemed kind of weird at this time. I also recall seeing some sketchy activities going on, which was a surprise because like I have written so much ... the America I saw was pretty safe. Australia seems more dangerous right now. I guess though, sketchy is sketchy ... so when I saw it tonight and when I saw it in DC, you notice it. Matt is all hyper and wants to show me some more of his adopted town.

We drive around for a few hours and it's actually a highlight of the trip, just because I'm such a sap! My buddy and I checking out LA. We go past the Viper Room which seems deserted. Kinda bums me out 'cause I loved River Phoenix. For some reason, I think maybe because of me ... we go to the Playboy superstore! I think from memory I was trying to get this smart-alec porn type t-shirt for bestie Alice. Jenny in NYC had one from there. It was a hoot. (Upon return, and failure to find the t-shirt, I am told by Alice it wouldn't have been such a great gift :) We enter the store to see a scantily clad women having a bit of a dance in the window. LA eh. We look around and I giggle a lot. Matt and I quietly discuss how funny it is that they have made a store full of porn (for want of a better word perhaps) almost hip. Tourists flock there, women out number the men. Well, at least the 10 minutes we were in there they did.

Something funny then happens. Matt comes up to me and says "Have you heard of ?". (insert name). She is a porn star apparently from a little while back. Turns out he knows her somehow. A friend of a friend of friend. Something. That's not funny. What was funny was seeing my buddy go up to one of the 18 year old male staff (they were all 18 and male) to ask if they stocked any of her work. They did. We were shown to her section. Tres funny. We continue to drive around. Matt shows me the richest part of town, which I think must have been Beverley Hills. 90210. Sigh. I have never seen bigger houses and I don't think I ever will. Gated communities. The streets are wide and palm trees line the footpaths. Unbelievable. We drive up to this spot where there is an amazing view. One of the best of LA I am told by Matt. There is a hotel up here too. Fancy as.

We sit and talk about things. Matty is a talker. He is American, but I get the feeling he would be a talker no matter where he was from. He famously told my bestie Graeme Trewin upon meeting him in Cronulla in 1998 that he was "an optimist", to which Graeme replied "So am I!". I was stuck in the middle of them. (Joke). We drive back to the apartment around 2am. I sleep really well, but not before thinking about what a fantastic time I've had, not just in LA but everywhere I've been on this trip. I snooze quickly and effortlessly. If only it was always this easy.

Monday 7th March

This is my last day in America. I do miss my peep's back home and there are some challenges waiting for me as well, but I don't want to leave. Mixed emotions eh. I would at the very least be returning to the greatest country in the world :)

I was up pretty early as my day was going to be long. After breakfast, Matt makes some calls to some pals in the television world. I am desperate to visit the WB because I have loved so many of their programs. This wasn't an option and sadly their retail shop was no more either. We did get some important TV tours done though. We headed to Universal Studios where Matt had a friend who was kind enough to give us a private tour through the backlot. Usually these are done on trams in a big group. Matt and I hopped onto the lil cart and we chaperoned around the site which was pretty cool I must say. The highlight would have been the courthouse from Back To The Future (you know, the clock and all...). It was also being used in Ghost Whisperer. Sadly, Jennifer Love Hewitt wasn't around. It was kinda tiny compared to how you see it, as was the street/houses that you may have seen on Desperate Housewives. I'm not a fan as such, but I recognised it straightaway. The house from Psycho was there, a whole bunch of films actually. We spent about forty minutes in and around the whole studio lot. We drove by Steven Spielberg's headquarters, security guards and all.

We then head to NBC television, where I want to buy a present for my Mum. All my life she has been a closet Days Of Our Lives fan, and at various times has suckered me into it too. As we park I notice a line of maybe 500 middle aged women, which turned out to be a tour of the Days Of Our Lives set. Yikes. We head into the retail store and see a bunch of different shows' merchandise. Some cool West Wing items. Some Seinfeld which we have at home. I'm on a budget unfortunately, so I grab a Days of Our Lives mug for my Mum. Matt tells me I am a good son.

He takes me to this awesome little Italian place around the corner called 'Salerno's'. We order some pizzas and cola. I feel like Joey Jeremiah.

We end up having a long lunch talking for ages, and sitting outside in the relative warmth I think helped me adjust to home life again. I left Australia on one of the hottest days in our history to arrive in the worst NYC winter in ninety years. Snow and frozen everything's for two and a half weeks. LA is cold but like the end of winter at home, so not too bad. And I would be arriving home at the end of the hot days still. Quite a confusing time temperature wise.

On the drive back we stop in downtown LA for an audition Matt has for a beer commericial. He tells me to come wait in the waiting room. I have never felt uglier in my life. I guess they had several auditions going at once, because the men were models and the woman were just even unbelievable. I was in a jovial mood so occasionally I would be looked up and down by someone and I'd say "I'm from Sydney Australia ... just here to look". It made me respect these people though in all honesty, the whole cattle call side of it you never get to see. A quick audition. Out the door. They might call you, but they probably won't. Wow. I couldn't take that rejection I don't think. I know as a musician, it is a similar life. You create art in the hope others will approve. But I think at least musicians can create their own world to an extent. We can make an album these days, release it ourselves if need be. It's much harder to make a movie and get it noticed I would imagine? Anyway, it was very cool to see this side of the acting world. Single parents there with their kids, those who had moved to LA to pursue the dream, those just wanting to pay the rent.

We head back to Matt's where I start to pack all my belongings. I seemed to have acquired more than I had, but not so much that I have to leave anything behind. I just squash it all in and zip.

I get to choose where we will have our last meal so to speak, and going with the theme of my trip it is no surprise that I pick Mexican. We drive down the road to this great restaurant called Mexico City. Check it out at: http://losangeles.citysearch.com/profile/52315/

I don't know if it's the best Mexican I've had, but it was more than tasty and the vibe of the place was good even for a Monday. We have some drinks and I toast my dear friends, thanking them for everything. I eat all my burito, knowing I have a long trip ahead of me tonight.

Mary-Ellen wasn't going to come to the airport due to schoolwork literally, but I think my whining turned her around because before I knew it we were all on the way to LAX airport. I remember the drive took a while, and I was in the back but leaning forwards in between Matt and Mary-Ellen. I kept saying to her "You know, you should just leave your life behind you here and come back to Australia with me" and other flattering things trying to sway her downunder. Of course, I was joking. But it didn't stop me bugging her. I recall we were about ten minutes from LAX on the freeway when I said "Well, if you're not going to come back with me ... I'll have to find my very own Mary-Ellen". They laughed and then I said "My very own Mary-Ellen" again. I boldy declared to write a song with that title. True story.

We stop outside the departures and I load my things out onto the footpath. I hug both my friends goodbye, thanking them profusely. Genuinely, but profusely. It was dark by now, and I was pretty damn sad leaving these two. I had a wonderful time here in LA. I told them to look after each other. I turned and walked into the airport.

Ok, so this whole trip I didn't really have one freak out. I mean, when I met actor girl in LA I freaked out, when I saw Katie Holmes in NYC I freaked out, when I drank Pabst Blue Ribbon beer I freaked out. But I didn't have a freak out. Sure, there were both natural and not-natural reasons for this ... but I was pretty pleased with how well I hadn't been having any freak outs. Last leg of the trip literally, it's time to freak out. I look up at the board and the only flights I see remotely near where I am going is some foreign airlines going to Melbourne. That's all I can see. There is no QF12 at 1030pm. I study the board over and over. I start to breath quicker. My heart is beating rapidly. How could this be? I have spent my final currency; I don't know how to work payphones here and I have no money anyway ... I join the long
line, even though I believe I am a goner. I'm honestly thinking the worst. I'm going to be living at LAX, and be on one of those airport tv shows as the guy who couldn't get it together.

I reach the counter, put down my luggage and whisper to the lady in the Qantas shirt "I'm supposed to be going to Sydney tonight but I cannot see my flight?" and with a pause and a smile, she says "Sir, all flights to Sydney check in from the next building". I'm like "Huh?" and she gives me directions. I sigh the greatest of sighs, and head down the road to the next building walking pretty quickly until it all starts to look ok. I even have a laugh to myself. I line up, check in and wait to board.

I am people watcher, that's already been established. I like to check out who is going to be on my flight, especially a 14 hour one. A lot of Aussies naturally. Makes me happy to hear the accents. I read the LA Times sport section someone has left behind. I get onboard around 10:10pm. After about fifteen minutes there is dead set no one sitting next to me. I am on the aisle, and the two seats to my right are empty. I am thinking good things. The space. The quiet. The luxury. The engines are running and the doors are shut. This is history in the making. Suddenly, the flight attendent says to me "Sorry to trouble you sir, but we are going to move a mother and son in here next to you as they have seperate seats". I nod politely, knowing I guess it was too good to be true. An middle aged African-American lady and her young son aged around thirteen squeeze in next to me, thanking me and apologising for the disturbance. The young fella calls me sir. Sweeties they are. Turns out the woman was a pretty famous gospel singer I kid you not, who was coming out as a special guest of the Hillsong people. She had worked with a heap of people as a backing singer including Elton John and a whole bunch of 70's stars.

Again, I am amazed at the professionalism of the staff on the flight. Maybe I just got lucky, but they were awesome. I think the plan for most was to sleep and then wake to a Sydney morning but I was pretty restless, not to mention my restless legs. I watched a bunch of films and TV; wrote a little too. Every now and then I would hang out up the back to kind of calm things down. Despite all these kilometres, I was still spooked up there in the air. I slept ok for three hours and woke with only about four hours to go. It was weird but when I awoke, a flight attendent came around with a goodies bag of chocolates and sweets which was a great kick for my tired body.

I wondered what happened to my Tuesday 8th March 2006? It was a day I never got to experience, technically at least. Weird eh?
I ordered the cold breakfast again, and advised those next to me to do the same. The lady next to me then asked me about where I'd been and what I'd been up to and she was impressed when I said I too was a musician. Turns out she has a studio back in a part of California. When asked, I declare Springsteen to be my hero to which she replied "I worked with him at a benefit show some time ago and he was a lovely man". Sigh.

Time moves so slowly when you're in a plane on the way home. The sun is up and we fly in past the harbour, much to everyone's delight. The prettiest harbour in the world. It's true, you get this proud feeling of returning to such a great land. Sure, politically we have some issues but deep down I mean, in essence it's a great land.

I start to think about the trip as the plane does that annoying slow grind to the gate. About how much I needed this trip to get away from what had been a bad year and a half. To get out on my own and experience the world. To visit and meet some amazing folks. To play my music to a new crowd. To co-write again. But more personally speaking, to try and live again which is what you have to do when you travel. You sorta have no choice. I had so much time to think. Think about what I wanted to upon my return, my goals and plans. How I could improve on the future. A lot of this was learnt from spending so much time with others, and in particular with the three couples I stayed with. Above all though, I rediscovered parts of me as a person, which sounds cliched but it's the truth.

Most people get a little angsty when the plane stops and you want to just get off that little thing and touch the ground again. You can't though; you have to wait for everyone in front of you to pack and leave. This morning though, as edgy as I was to see my hometown again, I sat there content. It had been a busy, rewarding and fun month. Truth was I was super tired. Tired from the plane trip and tired from the journey itself. But it was a happy tired for sure. I couldn't wait for my second album to be released and to start touring around Australia again.

Walking back through customs in Sydney I was pretty excited. I made my way slowly through and then waited for my bags. The Maton had made it ok too, which was a great relief. I lined up for the last time to get the ok from Customs. The lady asked me why I had opened food in my bag and I said "They gave me those chocolates on the plane, I was going to take them home". She sorta lectured me in a nice way about food and I said "No problem, I just need to get out of here" to which I got the final clearance. I walk out of exit B and see a whole line of people waiting for their loved ones. I have been here so often in the same boat as them, but it was nice for once to be the one coming home. I see my folks waiting for me but they look a little flustered, like they have arrived too late and missed me. (I know that feeling to!). I walk towards them and pat my Dad on the back and he yells out my name. Hug my Ma.

Walking to the car I immediately noticed the heat again. It was about 28 degrees and it was only 9am. My folks have been looking after Fred the Cat and swear he is fine, if not a little edgy without me around. But fine nevertheless. They fill me in with all the goss in general too.

I have timed my return to perfection. NRL 2005 starts this Friday night, and I will be at Shark Park on Saturday watching the lads go hard against the Panthers. Joy. Speaking of which, my brother David calls me as soon as I get home to check on me. Alice also calls, and I would actually end up hanging with her tonight after her classes at UTS. I wouldn't get any sleep, then drive in and hang with her. But it was worth it to see her smile when I gave her some NYC presents.
So there you go, the longest tour diary in the history of tour diaries. I need to say thanks ever so much to Jenny and Michael for bringing me over to write. I wanna thank Matt and Julia for getting me to Washington DC and for organising the show. I wanna thank the other Matt and Mary-Ellen for getting me to LA and for the shows and to all of them for the hospitality. And to everyone else who made my trip ever so special, I thank you too.
Sam x