Livin’ La Vida Loca: Our Austin Adventure

Written by Zenith

Edited by Chili and Heeler

Produced by © ZeelerPepper, Inc.

Supporting cast at the LaQuinta: Maki, Gnicole, SweetBiscuit, Chiquita, Rho, Buffalodiva Supporting cast at concerts, bars, and restaurants: assorted Perchies, Femmes, Dave, Dave, Stew, Garth, Dean, Russ Extras: screaming mimis, skanky ho’s (also known as “hootchies”), obnoxious tall people, hottie male Texans. Etcetera. Etcetera. Etcetera.

Day One - Friday, August 10th

Chili had told me that she would be wearing a “recognizable” t-shirt. As I walked toward the Alamo counter, there were two people sitting in the chairs nearby. No recognizable t-shirts, but one woman had curly red hair stuffed under a baseball cap - could it be a TOFOG hat? Not sure from that distance. I look at her. She looks at me. We look at each other. She asks, “Is it you?” “It’s me! I’m me!” I say. Such a way with words.

SHATTERED ILLUSIONS (Chili)

Chili is like the energizer bunny on amphetamines (disclaimer: Chili does not actually take illegal drugs, so don’t get freaky on me). She had told us (both Heeler and me) that she was SHY in person. She had warned us on numerous occasions that she’s very shy.

Let me put it this way. If Chili is shy, I do NOT want to see the *outgoing* people of Cleveland.

Heeler says: I was not terribly surprised by any of my roomies. Chili however, had made me a bit nervous when she declared that she was terribly shy in person. I take a little warming up but am not by any stretch of the imagination shy. So I was worried that this person that I had come to know on the board was indeed shy and there wouldn't be a lot of conversation when we finally met..............Thank God that my fears were unfounded.............by a long shot.

****

Chili and I, along with my friend Jenny, check into the hotel, shower, change clothes, and then it’s time to go pick up Heeler. “Where are we supposed to pick her up?” I ask. Chili has her flight information -- except that it’s in an email on her computer at home! We have no idea what airline she’s coming in on, even. Do we know what she looks like? No. Wait! I remember that she mentioned having strawberry blonde hair. A clue!

We go to the baggage claim area, and stand, three of us in a line, checking out all the women who might possibly be something close to a strawberry blonde -- ok, we checked out all the women, period. We peer at each passerby, but they all look too purposeful. We know that Heeler will be the lost and bereft looking one. Time passes, and no unclaimed copperheads emerge. And then...Chili remembers her REAL NAME!

We go to the information desk...we have her paged. Not two minutes later, our very own Heeler is heading toward us. Lost and bereft is an understatement. It seems that her flight was cancelled, and she had the option of taking a later or an earlier flight. Well, OF COURSE a later flight was out of the question, so she took the earlier one. Which meant that she had been waiting for us for hours, standing in the main thoroughfare of the airport, holding a piece of notebook paper on which was scribbled, “CHILI?” She said she stood out there so long, the passersby must have thought that she was some sort of pathetic hooker, offering to turn tricks for a bowl of chili.

SHATTERED ILLUSIONS (Heeler)

This girl is a PERVE. I mean it. She makes the rest of us look like amateurs. She can take anything - and I mean anything - and give it a sexual connotation. She seems all sweet and innocent (well, she is sweet), but let me tell ya. Our “Do Not Disturb” sign said, “No Moleste” and she kept saying that we needed to put a sign out that said, “Moleste Por Favor.”

And of course she was the one who came up with this little gem:

Airfare to Austin.....$150

TOFOG ticket........$30

Four women in one hotel room.....Prickless

She’s also funny as hell, and at that time, her wicked sense of humor didn’t come across on the board nearly as much. I think she was shy. Her one-liners had us in stiches the whole week.

Heeler says: “Moleste Por Favor” was a perfectly innocent statement. The "Do Not Disturb" sign was in Spanish and said, "No Moleste." I felt it was about time to let the maid in. SOMEONE took my perfectly innocent statement to mean something entirely different.

THE ELEVATOR TO NOWHERE

Heeler says: Starting with our first trip up to our room we noticed it. The Elevator To Nowhere! As we all piled on, talking excitedly, we pressed our buttons and waited, and waited, and waited. Until we FINALLY noticed that we hadn't moved at all. This happened quite a bit, since we were distracted by talking so much, we spent quite a lot of time standing in an elevator that wasn't going anywhere. When we finally got the hang of how to get the elevator to move, it then started jumping up and down when it got to the first floor. It would taken several minutes of bouncing up and down before it finally decided it was happy with where it had landed and opened the doors. If the elevator's rockin', don't come knockin', NOT. We frightened several people with our elevator to nowhere comments. Of course I think we may have frightened several people even if the elevator had been working properly.

COMO SE DICE ‘BLANKET’ EN ESPANOL?

We originally thought that we were going to have a fifth person in our room, and I had brought an air mattress for that purpose. We tracked down a maid and asked for an extra blanket and pillow, but the language barrier was so great that Chili could not get her wishes across. We were all in the hallway, watching as Chili pantomimed “blanket” and “pillow” over and over, to no avail. Finally we went down another hallway where there was an unattended housekeeping cart, and Chili took a blanket and pillow off of it, and a couple extra towels for good measure.

***

Heeler says: After arriving back at the hotel, several of us were getting on the elevator. As usual, we were waiting on Chili, you know, the SHY one. As we stepped on the elevator, we were joined by a nice looking young man. There was some confusion over the elevator buttons, and the conversation went something like this:

Chili: (sigh) I’m tired.
Man: That good a night?
Chili: Yep.
(pause)
Chili: Do I detect an accent?
Man: I’m from New Zealand.
Chili: HOW coincidental.
Kiwi Man: Let me guess. You’re here to see Russell Crowe?
Chili: (grinning) How did you know?
Kiwi man smiles. (melt!)
Kiwi Man: At least you know he’s from New Zealand and not Australia.
Chili: Oh, we know a lot of things.

Just then we reached his floor. As he steps off the elevator, just as the doors were not quite closed, Zenith yells out "HE'S CUTE." I'm VERY sure that our cute Kiwi heard this. I'm also sure that if the cute Kiwi was looking for a little action, he couldn't have picked a better weekend to be in town. Nevertheless, our repressed and shy little group would have no knowledge of that.

SHATTERED ILLUSIONS (Zenith)

Chili says: Shattered illusion: that Zenith is shy. And quiet. And… MEEK. Meek. Meek, shy, quiet little Zenith from Iowa. RRRRRRRRROTFLMAO! She’s an AlphaBitch in training! “Chili, do this!” – “Chili, do that!” Here I thought I’d run this show (!) and this young chick bops in and takes over… in fact, in the pecking order, I was DEAD LAST in this room of Alphas… Crimony!

Zenith says: I’m a Russell Crowe fan (first clue) and I called myself Zenith. What gave Chili the idea that I was the submissive type, I’ll never know. I *am* shy, though. Really.

IRON MAIDEN...er...CACTUS

We head over to the Iron Cactus where we are supposed to meet the RCBM ladies. We meet some (including Hooly) downstairs and then make our way upstairs to the open roof-top dining area. There we meet Roon, Cho, Lynda, Epiphany/Felipe, RM, and others, who are celebrating Roon’s birthday.

ALMOST FAMOUS

*Sigh* Life with a celebrity. Everywhere we went - “CHILI!!!!” “YOU’RE CHILI!!!!” Hugging, screaming, hugging, screaming, while Heeler and I stood by -- the entourage. Let me tell you, it ain’t easy being a “handler.” You’re trying to get the “handlee” where they are supposed to be, and everyone else in the whole freaking world is trying to prevent it.

THE FIRST SHOW

We head over to Stubbs, walk in, and find a decent place under the balcony. Chili had wanted to be in that location, because she had been there last year and liked it. The rest of our LaQuinta group was there too - Gnicole, Chiquita, Kikki, SweetBiscuit, Maki. Suddenly Mark appears. I squeal and grab Chili. “There’s Mark!” She squints. “It might be Mark...” “It’s Mark!” I say, annoyed. I can identify Mark from a chin or a hand in a photo. Trust me. It’s him.

Russell Gilbert starts his act, but I’m waaaay too busy watching Mark, walking back and forth just a few feet away from me, back and forth...talking on his cell phone, carrying stuff from the green room to the stage. Far more entertaining than the comedian. I should probably mention here that I really wanted to meet Mark, but “meet” just means *meet*. I had no intention of coming on to him, nor did it have anything to do with Russell. Anyway, at this point, it would have been easy to step back a few feet and start up a conversation...if I wasn’t so damn shy. But I am (with strangers) and so I missed the opportunity.

Ralph appears, and I poke my friends and point him out too. A tall woman with long blonde hair walks by us. Jenny asks, “Is that Russell’s girlfriend?” Knowing that she means Danielle, I tell her no. I look again and poke the others. “There’s Lourene.”

A few minutes pass, and then Russell comes in and heads for the green room. There are hootchies lined up across the railing and behind the “hootchie table” set up at the back of the balcony, and Russell barrels by them, head down, not making eye contact with anyone.

A few minutes later, he reappears in the doorway of the green room, and watches the opening acts. “There’s Russ.” I say calmly and matter-of-factly to Chili and Heeler. I wondered what I would feel the first time I saw him in person. Although my infatuation had long since mellowed out, I had wondered if seeing him up close would change anything, if I would feel a physical reaction - a jolt. Instead, it seems totally normally to see him, as if I see him everyday. It is like seeing an old friend - I’m glad to see him, but it doesn’t seem new or strange at all.

He is wearing the dark blue flannel, and he has his arm up against the door frame and partway over his face, as if to ward off the open gawking of the hootchies lined up in front of him. Heeler whispers to me that it must be awful having them all lined up and staring at him like that, but he seems to ignore it fairly well, and he laughs at the Russell Gilbert’s jokes. He goes up on the stage (off to the side) to watch Burnum Burnum’s dance.

The show starts, and Russ, now wearing the light blue flannel with holey elbows, is edgy and hyper. I’m slightly disappointed, not in the music, but because I feel like he’s not having a good time (he says we‘re “uptight"). My friends aren’t disappointed at all. Jenny (who has never heard the music before) loves it.

After the concert, we LOSE Chili. She’s still somewhere inside the venue with Heeler, and the rest of us are outside wondering how many people she has found to talk to. We wait, and wait, and wait. This is what I mean about being a handler. It sucks.

IT PAYS TO PICK UP STRAYS

We went back to the hotel to drop off Maki, but Kikki had refused to squish into the car, preferring to walk back to the La Quinta. After we dropped Maki off and stopping to talk to Mar and PM for a few minutes we left the hotel parking lot, but circled back around to find Kikki. We were worried about her walking alone at that time of night. As we re-entered the hotel parking lot, we saw her standing there, talking to a woman we didn’t know. Kikki opened the car door and said, “Are you going to eat?” We said yes, and Kikki shoves this strange woman into the car with us, telling us that she needs to eat and we should take her with us.

The woman doesn’t seem at all alarmed to be thrust into a car full of strangers, in fact, she seems relieved beyond measure to be headed to a resturant. She identifies herself as Buffalodiva from the Perch, and recognizes *my* nic, and to a lesser extent, Chili’s. (I’m inordinately pleased by this.) The poor girl’s flight was two hours late and she hadn’t eaten all day. She went to her hotel to check in and they had LOST her reservation. She didn’t know anyone from the boards or in Austin. The Marriott sent her to the LaQuinta, which is where she was headed, tired, hungry, and ready to turn around and go home, when she saw Kikki walking up the hill. Since we all give off those “love and peace” TOFOG vibes, Buffalodiva decided to take a chance on Kikki. She asked her if she had been to the concert and told her sad story. It was at that point that Kikki put her in the car with us...it was fate, I tell you. No one could have been a better addition to our crazy group than Diva. She is so much fun. We only wished that we could have spent more time with her, but she had to go back on Sunday.

LEFT, LEFT, LEFT, RIGHT, SHAKE IT

Once Buffalodiva was in the car, we drove around and drove around, and drove around. We had been told to meet the rest of our group at Katz, which, someone said, was at the corner of 8th and Rio Grande. Well, let me tell you something. *cough* When you get in a car with Chili behind the wheel, you never know where you might end up. With Chili driving, the four blocks to Stubbs becomes like a quest for Xanadu. We drive around, and around, and around. With people in the passenger and back seats yelling, “Left!” “No, RIGHT!” “You can’t go right, it’s a one-way!” and Chili, who hasn’t a freaking clue where she’s going, thinks it’s REALLY funny to add “Left, right, SHAKE IT!” to the sentence whenever anyone tells her where to turn. Ok, it WAS funny, like the first 20 times.

We find 8th and Rio Grande, and it’s a residential neighborhood. Ain’t no Katz in sight. We have no choice but to drive around some more. *cough* Time for another little piece of trivia about Chili. She will talk to ANYONE. She will accost gang-looking people in the next car at the Mobil station to ask for directions (at which point I was wondering if they would notice if I slid down onto the floor of the car, out of sight). I must say that the baby-gansta she was talking to looked annoyed at first, then gradually his expression changed to a grudging respect at the pure NERVE of her.

Heeler says: How can one person make a small vehicle take up so many lanes? I know Chili, "Bite you." It is really sad when the drunk people have to tell the designated driver to stop for a light, watch out for that car, get in one lane, turn here. The concept of One Way streets are not high on Chili's list of ways to plan a city.

We finally found the IHOP and ate breakfast at 2:30 in the morning.

Back in our hotel room, we simply cannot stop laughing. Everything is funny. We lay, two women in each double bed (not queens - it’s cozy). It’s now 5:30 am and we’re TRYING to go to sleep, but then someone has a funny thought and starts giggling - setting off yet another fit of uncontrollable laughter. Finally all is quiet. I make a discovery - if Chili stops talking for 30 seconds, she falls asleep. And yes, you know the minute she’s asleep because the snoring begins.

DAY TWO - Saturday, August 11th

HAVE YOUR PEOPLE CALL MY PEOPLE, AND WE’LL DO LUNCH

Chili and I drag our sorry asses out of bed at nine thirty (3.5 hours sleep, but who’s counting). We are leaving Heeler and Jenny at the hotel, since they haven’t had the criminal background check required to attend the luncheon.

On the way to the Red Eye Fly, Chili is pulled over by a police officer. It’s our first encounter with Austin’s Finest...and let me tell you, they are FOINE. It’s a good thing Chili was driving, because I was rendered speechless.

The irony of the situation is that Chili made numerous driving faux-pas during our time in Austin, such as driving the wrong way on a one-way street (more than once), but she was pulled over for not having her seat belt on.

Chili immediately pleads tourist status and asks directions to the Red Eye Fly. The officer looks at her questioningly. “Getting an early start?” he asks.

“Oh, no, there’s a luncheon there today,” Chili says. “For Russell Crowe fans.”

“Is he there?” the cop asks, interested.

Chili tells him she doesn’t think so, and he lets us go, admonishing Chili to wear her seatbelt.

Chili finds a parking place with a meter. We dig around for coins, but we don’t come up with enough for the time that we think we will be there. Two women are walking down the street, and they are giving out the peace and love TOFOG vibes. Chili asks them if they have change for a dollar. They come up with a dollar in change, but refuse to take Chili’s dollar bill. A random act of kindness.

The luncheon is really fun, and we meet lots of Perchettes. I have the same reaction to each person I meet that I know online: I say, “Oh, you’re____! It’s so nice to meet you!” as I grab her in a suffocating hug (neglecting to tell her who *I* am). At some point I’m in the back area, and I hear someone say, “Russell’s assistant is here.” Russell’s assistant? MARK??? I make a beeline into the bar, looking around frantically. It’s Bruno. And Stewart. And Dave Kelly. I go back where my friends are. Eventually Garth and Dave Wilkins arrive also. I think I mentioned that I’m shy, and I’m not an autograph person (never had one, in fact), so I kept chatting with the girls and left the guys alone.

Dave Wilkins, in particular, seems really pleased at the way TOFOG brings the fans together. In her post-luncheon speech, Eva talked about how wonderful it was that this had created friendships, and she thanked TOFOG for creating their music, and also for bringing us together. I was standing near Dave, and during that part of the speech, he expressed approval several times (by saying “fantastic” or nodding really happily). I liked that.

Then we went over to Stubbs to see if they were doing sound check. They were. We saw and took pictures of Russell Cow and sat in the downstairs of Stubbs for a while with a bunch of Perchettes. KrissyW told me that she was pregnant, and I was happy that I could give her a congratulatory hug in person, instead of a pale-in-comparison cyberhug. We were waiting for Kikki to return from her errand (with our car), but when she didn’t come back, we finally decided to head back to the hotel on foot. It was so freaking hot, and we were nearly dead (and my feet were burning) by the time we had walked the four blocks (or 32 miles, as Chili says) to the LaQuinta.

Heeler says: Waaahhhhh!!! I felt so left out. Jenny and I kept looking at each other thinking, "surely they should be back by now." Hate to say it, but we were BORED.

THE SECOND SHOW

We got ready for the concert and headed back over to Stubbs. This time we actually waited in line for maybe an hour. Chili had wanted to go over earlier, to make sure we got the places right along the edge of the “porch,” but we took too long and didn‘t get into line soon enough. So when we actually got into Stubbs, some people had staked out “our” place on the edge of the porch, and they were NOT budging. We hung out during the opening acts, I was chatting with Katydid and Pongo a little bit, but I was really tired. At one point, someone asked me a question and I *jerked awake*. Yes, I was actually asleep standing up. I hadn’t adjusted to our vampire lifestyle yet.

We spent the entire concert fighting for a view. It was so jam-packed under that balcony, and there were really tall people in front of us. A very nice woman who was with Katydid and Pongo, asked me at one point if I could see. I told her no, and she shoved me through the people in front of her, so suddenly I could see. Another random act of kindness.

The concert was soooo good that night. Russell was giggly and happy and he was so interactive with the crowd - a night and day difference from the night before. In fact, it was so good, I actually worried that the 18th would be an anti-climax, because I didn't think it could be better. (I needn't have worried.)

The Oscar moment was truly unforgettable. As Russell said later, it was “not a media moment.” He understood, and we understood…and from what he said, I knew that he knew that the rest of the world wouldn’t understand. And he did it anyway. And every attempt to describe that moment falls very short.

After the concert, we headed over to the Continental Club, where there was an Elvis cover singer who apparently is very popular. Heeler and Buffalodiva were especially into the music, they were singing along to every one of the songs and dancing.

Heeler says: We HAVE mentioned that Chili does NOT do music that even comes close to country.

Just before the singer finished his last set, a small group of people came in and Kikki told us that the small blond woman was Lucinda Williams. Apparently she had come over after performing at her own show. The bar closed, and the crowd thinned out until it was just TOFOG fans and Lucinda’s group. Finally, they turned the lights on and threw us out, and we were all out on the sidewalk for a while.

We went to Katz to eat after that, and everyone was so exhausted they could hardly see straight. I remember being really worried about Chili driving and I kept babbling about how driving while sleep-deprived was as bad as driving drunk. We finally made it back to the hotel and collapsed.

DAY THREE - Sunday, August 12th

FOUR WOMEN. ONE BATHROOM.

Heeler says: As ususal, our group was NEVER dull or without something to say. Zenith was supposed to be getting in the shower when she decided an important point needed to be made. She had her underwear in her hand and was standing in front of Chili, gesturing wildly. Chili very calmly (weird, I know) looked at her and said, "Do your panties have something to do with that statement?" I'll be damned if I know what the hell Zenith was talking about. What is it about getting into the shower that makes you remember an important point?

Zenith says:  My VERY important point was about which CLUB we were going to that night. Hmpf!

GIVING IT UP FOR JESUS

Sunday we took it easy. We got up around 11:00, and again Chili and I abandoned Heeler and Jenny at the hotel while we met Roon, Hooly, Lynda, et. al. at Stubbs for the gospel brunch.

The gospel brunch was really fun, and the lead singer of the group kept asking us to “give it up” for everyone that he was introducing - which seemed to be everyone in the entire world, plus Jesus. He introduced us to everyone in the group, which was 7-8 people, along with several members of his family. We were trying to eat, and by the time he asked us to “give it up” for his mama, I was in an uncontrollable giggling fit. They were great, though.

When we got back, Heeler and Jenny had just finished getting ready, so they headed out to get some lunch. I curled up on one bed with the laptop, and Chili sprawled across the other bed, talking to me. Within a couple minutes, she wasn’t talking anymore. She was...you guessed it.

Zzzzzzzzz....

THE GREAT TOWEL ROBBERY

Although each of us is a responsible woman in our other life, with people who depend on us (two children each for Heeler and me and an elderly mother in Chili’s case), you would not have known it if you had seen our hotel room. Because of our vampire-like schedule, we had not let the maid in since we had checked in (three days). You could have buried a person under the heap of used towels in the bathroom. How did we get all the towels, you ask? After her success with the blanket and pillow, Chili continued to pilfer towels off the carts of unsuspecting housekeepers, hiding them in the closet for future use. We neglected to grab toilet paper, however, and we ran out on Sunday. We went to our friends’ hotel room for a DVD party and begged a roll from them to get us through the night.

GETTIN' GROOVY

The DVD ( Texas) party was VERY wild. I was very wild. There is photographic evidence of said wildness. [shudder] Note to self: do not pose for pictures while under the influence of alcohol and TOFOG documentaries, no matter how good an idea it seems at the time.

Back in our hotel room, Heeler is sitting on the bed, cross-legged. She has brought the bottle of tequila with her from the other room, and she’s drinking it straight. She’s laughing and joking with us, but then she gets very serious. Staring morosely into her glass, she says, “I can tell you THINGS. I have no education, but I know THINGS.”

(pause)

“Heeler and Tequila have bonded.”

ON GLASSES AND PASSES

Heeler says: Chili was sitting on the floor, typing on the laptop, and Zenith really, really wanted check her email. She begged and begged to no avail. Pretty soon, Chili noticed that Zenith kept scooting closer and closer to her, until she was sitting very close, flipping her hair and looking at Chili seductively. Chili, who was wearing glasses at the time, looks over the top of them sternly and says, “Does this work for you usually? ‘Cause it’s not working.”

Zenith says: I guess they weren’t the right kind of glasses.

DAY FOUR - Monday the 13th

WE FOUGHT THE LAW, AND THE LAW WON

The next morning...uh...ok, afternoon, we went to the Iron Cactus for lunch, and ended up spending the entire afternoon there. Ok, maybe we didn’t get there until 2:00. But it was five o’clock when we left, and the bizarre thing about our lifestyle was that we had just finished lunch, and it was time for dinner. By my calculations, we averaged 1.5 meals a day because of our wacked-out schedule.

We had parked the car on a side street, in a parking place that was next to a handicapped place. Our parking spot wasn’t marked on the pavement and there was no sign. But when we came out of the restaurant, we had a ticket.

$150.

As you can imagine, Chili blew a gasket. She was screaming and carrying on, while Kikki tried to explain that we could contest the ticket, that if you bother to show up for the hearing they will usually at least knock it down. Chili wasn‘t listening, instead continuing her rant which involved lots of really bad language and phrases such as, “THEY CAN KISS MY YANKEE ASS!”

When Chili walked away briefly, I leaned over and said quietly to Kikki, “You just go to the hearing and take care of it.” Kikki said, “If she goes, they’ll...” I nodded. “You go.” The last thing we needed was Chili to be thrown in jail in contempt of court.

We picked up some supplies (booze) and went back to the hotel. Joining our other friends in their room, we ordered pizza and watched The Sum of Us, which I had never seen.

We got back to our room around 2:00 am, and I had to have Jenny at the airport at 6:00. Staggering out of bed at 5:00, I managed to find the airport and drop her off successfully. I’m feeling bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and I contemplate seeing if Kikki wants to go to Starbucks, but when I get back to the hotel room, I fall into bed and sleep until 10:00.

LOVE BITES

With Chili, the 'Bite Me’s' were constant. Ok, to be fair, we are a terrible bunch of smartasses. (Or as she said, “Why do all my friends have to be bitches?”) But we were told to bite her every two minutes, on average.

Heeler says: I think she even used that when we WEREN'T insulting her. Then she came up with "bite me with a retainer." Chili, how about "Bite me, and rotate?"

She did become rather...defensive, and would give us dirty looks as if she were daring us to say something to make her mad. At one point, she came out of the bathroom and stood glaring at us. Kikki said, “You’re just waiting for us to say something so you can bitch at us, aren’t you?”

FIFTY ODD MINUTES OF BITCHINESS

Chili kept telling us that she was PMSing and that she was bitchy for 59 minutes out of every hour. Every once in a while, she would say something nice and hug one of us. Then she’d put her mad face on. “Was that our one minute?” we would ask. “Yep.”

Heeler says: I'm not sure that we got a complete minute of sweetness. Chili was pretty worked up, most of the time. I wasn't around when the theory of 59 minutes of bitchiness and 1 minute of sweetness per hour was concocted. Chili darlin', I love you but when you get worked up about something you REALLY get worked up.

AUSTEN (not Austin)

Our hotel had valet service, and after we had been there a few days, we met Austen the valet. We drove up one night, very late, and we were all laughing our asses off. Austen came over to the car, and Chili said to him, “We’re sober. Really.” And Austen, understandably skeptical, says, “Yeah right, you’ve been smoking pot.” And we said, “Nooooo!” And Chili, with her oh-so-shy personality, chats him up and we can tell that he’s intrigued (and amused) by this crazy group of women.

The next morning, when we came down to get our car, Austen was coming across the parking lot, yelling. "A$$hole! Blah, blah, blah, your f*cking car, blah, blah, a$$hole!” We can’t hear everything he’s saying, but we definitely understand that he’s complaining loudly about a customer. He sees us and is all smiles. We ask him what he’s so mad about and he explains that the customer is an a$$hole, and adds that the guy who had the shift before him is an a$$hole too. “They’re all assholes!!!” he exclaims. The guy who works before him is a dumbass, he says. “He’s got one eye going this way and one going this way...and he says that acid doesn’t mess you up.”

“He’s a wooky-eyed dumbass?” we ask. “Yep,” Austen says.

It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship with Austen.

DAY FIVE - Tuesday the 14th

After getting ready, we head over to IHOP for breakfast (lunch?) and then decide to go tour the capital complex, but it’s 4:30 and the buildings close at 5:00. We decide we don’t want to pay $5 each for half an hour. How did it get so late anyway? We think Austin exists in a time warp.

The decision is made (mostly by Chili’s insistence) to go to see The Others which had just opened. Our personal valet/advisor, Austen, told us how to get to the theater, and Kikki drove, so we arrive there relatively quickly and easily.

We all enjoyed the movie very much, especially Heeler and Chili, who were sitting on opposite ends of the row, and who screamed in unison at a shocking point, producing a stereo effect.

After dinner at Stubbs, we went back to the hotel and watched POL in our gathering room.

HELL HATH NO FURY LIKE A PISSED-OFF RUSSELL CROWE FAN
(Or, We Don’t Call Ourselves Bitches For Nothing)

Sometime in the days following the 11th, it came to our attention that certain journalists at the Austin American-Statesman were dissing our boys. That is something that will not be tolerated. They were deluged with angry emails in inimitable RC-fan style, but Kikki called Andy Langer (who, I believe, accused Russell of “grandstanding” for showing his oscar) and left a message for him on his voice mail. She did not leave her number, but he must have had caller id, because he called back on her cell phone, on the 18th. She did not have her phone with her and missed the call. Since we were busy getting ready for the concert, we did not call him back. Mr. Langer should thank his lucky stars for that.

DAY SIX - Wednesday the 15th

The next morning, we drove to Shiner, Texas, to tour the brewery where the famous Shiner Bock is made. Kikki drove, Essence played, and -- you know those rare *perfect moments* in your life? Driving along the Texas highway, the warm sun coming through the window, a van full of friends, and nothing to do but be together...that was the *essence* of Austin.

Chili, of course, was asleep.

After the Shiner brewery, we went on to the Alamo (in San Antonio). Then it was back to Austin for dinner at the Hula Hut, where we sat out on the water and started an intensely serious discussion.

WEDNESDAY IS WASHING DAY

We split up and headed back in our respective hotel rooms, because Chili needed to wash her hair. Now when Chili washes her hair, it’s a major undertaking, complete with ritualistic attire (a sarong from Tahiti). Heeler and I amused ourselves as best we could while Chili washed and then rolled up her hair.

When finally we were ready to go to the other room, we found that our friends were in bed! They revived, though, and we watched Gladiator. I will not even go into Chili’s reaction to the Max/Lucilla kiss. Suffice it to say - TMI!

After the three of us had gone back to our own room, our serious discussion from dinner continued. We got louder and louder in our passionate conversation (and there was crying as well…that would have been me). It was around four thirty in the morning, and apparently the man in the next room didn’t appreciate our need for therapy. He called our room and told us to shut up. How rude.

I AM NOT. PERKY.

Throughout the week, different people kept getting on my nerves by making references to my being a “perky blonde.” They’d say something disparaging about “perky blondes” and then say, “No offense, Miss Perky Blonde.” Well, I hadn’t taken offense originally because I don’t put myself in the category (blonde, yes, but I never think of myself as perky). But I did take offense to the Miss Perky Blonde title, because when someone says that it makes me think “bimbo.” I tried to explain to them that I don’t consider myself perky. “I am the opposite of perky,” I said. “I am...MOROSE!” Since I am decidedly not morose, that set off gales of laughter, and it became our joke that Chili is shy and prudish, I’m morose, and Heeler is repressed. We’re big fans of irony.

DAY SEVEN - Thursday the 16th

Thursday morning, we were still sleeping when Gnicole came to say good-bye. Bleary-eyed and hungover, we hugged her and sent her off to the airport with Kikki. Her departure left only Kikki and Maki in the other room, so we decided to combine into one room.

Kikki went and explained to the judge the circumstances under which we had gotten the parking ticket, and she did not have to pay the ticket, to our great joy.

While we were walking down 6th street, we passed a deli. Heeler grabbed me, mumbling something about dark hair and piercing blue eyes, and pulled me back to walk by it again. It was FULL of hottie policemen. Heeler and I walked by over and over, until our embarrassed friends insisted that we move on.

Heeler says: I think we had to run about half a block to catch them. But it was worth it. *grin*

LIVE MUSIC CAPITAL OF THE WORLD

...And they ain’t kidding. Heeler and I wanted to buy Lucinda Williams’ Essence, so we headed over to Waterloo Records. While we were there, there was a live concert (this was the middle of the afternoon on a weekday), and they were giving out free beer. (!!!) The live music title is no exaggeration - we even saw a band playing in a parking garage one night.

DEJA FOOL

Kikki had lost her cell phone at some point during the day. We sat in the parking lot of Waterloo Records, while Kikki stood outside the minivan, using Chili’s cell phone to track down her phone.

All of a sudden, a man jumps down off the embankment behind the store. He’s wearing dress pants and a white dress shirt, with the sleeves rolled up. He walks behind the van and up to the sidewalk that runs in front of the store.

“Oh. my. God,“ says Chili. “That was my ex-whatever.”

It is the most incredibly bizarre coincidence. We knew that he lived in Austin, and that there was a possibility that we would run into him at one of the popular resturants or clubs. But jumping down from an embankment behind a store, where we just happened to be parked? Truly unbelievable.

We had arranged to meet Cabrio, a friend of Kikki and Chili’s (from a chat room) at the Omni, and we did that...then moving to the Iron Cactus for drinks and appetizers.

We went to Cabrio’s room to watch the Leno appearance, screaming like teenagers at appropriate points, and driving the rest of the hotel guests crazy, I’m sure.

That night we had to use my air mattress for the first time, since we now had five people in the room. We had trouble getting the foot pump to work, so Heeler ended up blowing up the air mattress herself. And of course, she was “working it” and we got lots of blackmail-worthy pictures as well as the answer to the question, “Does Heeler spit or swallow?”

Heeler says: I don't know why you would make a big deal out of someone being helpful. I can't help it if I'm orally inclined. Nevertheless, the mattress had a leak and I ended up sleeping on the floor when it deflated in the middle of the night. Another example of people poking fun at me, despite my kind and
generous nature.

CONFESSIONS OF A TOFOG JUNKIE

When I started to dabble in this drug called TOFOG, I told myself I could handle it. I wasn’t like those other people -- I can quit at any time.

I said I would never stand in line all day, not even for several hours, to get close to the stage. And for the first two shows, my resolve held. But the 10th...the 11th...my body adjusted and I needed something more to get high. I gave in to peer pressure and agreed to stand in line. And if we were going to do it, I said, we might as well go all the way. We decided that we would stand in line beginning at 6:00 am on Saturday. I justified this with a quote from the Drug Kingpin himself, “Some things just have to be experienced.” The worst thing was, I felt no horror at this - in fact, I felt only glee at my reprehensible behavior.

DAY SEVEN - Friday the 17th

Friday...uh...“morning” we drove out to a barbecue place called Salt Lick for “lunch.” It was quite a drive, and by the time we got there, it was around 4:00. Now, for those of you keeping track at home, this was nearly 24 hours without any actual food (the kind that doesn‘t come in a glass). Leaving Austin, we drove by Stubbs, and found that PEOPLE WERE ALREADY STANDING IN LINE. We were very upset by this, since we had thought that we would be second or third in line if we got there at 6:00 the next morning. Now we were uncertain whether it would be worth it to get in line at all.

After “lunch” we met Roon & Hooly for drinks at the Intercontinental, then we all went over to Stubbs and had a beer or two. When the concert started, however, we (Heeler, Chili, Kikki, and I) decided that it really wasn’t our thing (“acid reggae”) and we went to the Continental Club instead. Bastard Sons of Johnny Cash was playing.

Chili and Kikki, along with Maki, went to get our places in the Stubbs line-up, which ended up being around the corner. Yes, there were that many people already in line at 2:00 am on Saturday. Kikki was going to come back for Heeler and me, and by this point, I was so exhausted, I think I was swaying on my feet. I know I was rubbing at my eyes a lot and saying to Heeler, “I have to go back to the hotel.” Finally, Kikki came to get us and Heeler told her, “Zenith has to get some sleep.” You know you’re tired when people are discussing you and you just don’t care. Heeler and I went back to the hotel and all of a sudden, I decided that I couldn’t stand the smell of smoke in my hair, and I took a shower at 2:30 am, falling into bed with wet hair.

DAY EIGHT - Saturday the 18th

We slept until around 9:00, threw some clothes on, and Kikki picked us up to go take our shift.

SOME THINGS JUST HAVE TO BE EXPERIENCED

Waiting in line was fun. It was a totally out-of-character thing for me to do, and I don’t regret a minute of it.

In front of us was a young husband and wife, and his sister, all from New York. Behind us were evikaez and catd41 from the Perch (although they were not active members yet and we did not know them). Since there were only 1-2 of them in each group at a time, we invited them into our tent with us to get out of the hot sun.

Inside the tent, it wasn’t that bad, but I was sitting at the edge of the tent and I didn’t realize that the sun was coming in at an angle. I was wearing a tank top and my shoulders got *burned*. (Of course I didn’t realize that until later.) Sometime in the afternoon, Heeler and I went inside Stubbs go to the bathroom and get a beer. RM and Angel were sitting at the bar and Dave Wilkins was one stool away from them, eating lunch. Heeler and I ordered and stood there, talking to the three of them and laughing when RM talked Dave into eating a bite of mashed sweet potatoes, when suddenly this very strange woman wriggles onto the stool between Angel & Dave, and then feigns shock that Dave is sitting there. LOL! She then monopolizes him, while Heeler and I stand there and laugh our asses off at Dave, who is (gently) making fun of the woman and she doesn’t even know it.

Although we were reluctant to leave the air conditioned restaurant, we knew we had to go back out to our places, since kind people who were not part of our group were holding our spot. As we walked out, Dave was doing an interview on the sidewalk, with a TV station, and I took pictures of him and of “tent city.”

Then he made his way around the line, saying thanks to all the fans and shaking hands. We were told that he had been there since 7:00 that morning. While all of the guys were welcoming and appreciative, Dave gets an A+.

A short time later, Kikki, Chili, and Maki came to take our places so we could go back to the hotel and clean up.

We walked to the hotel, showered and got all ready. We called Kikki and asked her to come and get us in the car, because it was so hot, we would be sweaty again by the time we walked to Stubbs. She did, and when we got there, they were starting to hand out wrist bands and form the line. “You just missed Mark,” my friends tell me. Apparently he was standing out on the corner for a long time, talking on his cell phone. They just like to torment me.

Our tent, which had been a Godsend (or actually, a Chili-send, since she bought it), now became a pain in the butt as we had to drag it along with us in line. As we stood waiting, Russell and Mark rode by on their Harleys, and some people snapped pictures. Two women who had taken a picture started talking to the group in front of us about buying copies from them. But long after the picture conversation was over, these women continued to hang out with that group, as if they were part of it (which they were not). These quasi-hootchies (if you don’t know the subtleties of hootchiedom, I’ll explain it to you later) were committing the ultimate crime -- they were trying to cut in line.

Evikaez and Catd40 were getting more and more upset behind us as the women stayed longer and longer...finally, they went up and confronted the women. When she saw that they were insisting that they were with the group, Chili joined the confrontation, and from the look of her face, I thought it might come to blows. Finally, the New Yorker guy with us said he would go and get a security person. He came back with one, who took the women aside and was talking to them. As we watched, their bodies language altered from defensiveness to flirtatiousness...and we’re women, we KNOW what’s going on.

The NY guy’s sister, who is not even a fan, is infuriated by this. Her sense of justice is offended, and she is one pissed-off New Yorker. You know what I’m saying? I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a tiny woman throw such a big fit. She ran over to the security guy and started reading the three of them the riot act. Her whole body was involved, arms swinging, hair flipping...her sister-in-law was so concerned that the security guard might throw her out, she went over and tried to pull her away from the altercation. Nuh uh...she wasn’t done yet, and she shoved sis-in-law away, until finally, sis-in-law grabbed her in a bear hug from behind, and literally dragged her away, with Sis still screaming and struggling. She later apologized to us, saying that she “has a bad temper.” LOL, she was our hero. The security guard sent the quasi-hootchies to the back of the line. Heh.

Russell teases the fans at every concert with his patented slow motorcycle ride past the crowds

And then...it was time. We got in, and we had intended to run as fast as we could down to the front. But when we walked in, “MEDIUM?” someone yells at me. I‘m startled, then realize they are handing out t-shirts, as a package is thrust into my hands. Someone else holds out a bumper sticker to me, and like a dumbass, I pause to take it. *smacks head* That bumper sticker probably cost us a row. Running, skidding down the gravel slope, we end up in the seventh body row. But we manage to gain some ground when people leave because they are claustrophobic. Heeler nearly killed a woman, and that helped too.

Heeler says:  Sounds like a Johnny Cash song. "I once almost killed a woman, just to watch her drop."

We end up in about the sixth body row. Kikki had told us that it was great being down that close; she said that the good vibes spread through the crowd. She was putting it mildly; what is was, was magic. The hazy hot air, the sweaty bodies pressed up against us on all sides. The crowd’s palpable excitement growing as the recorded songs moved through their now-familiar pattern. Every single person around us loudly singing “Land Down Under,” unified in a zone where nothing else existed but the moment. And then, once the band took the stage, that excitement channeled and focused onto the performance...an experience like none other.

When it was over, no one wanted to leave. We hung around and some of the guys were signing autographs. We stayed with the crowd, but we didn’t get any autographs. Chili wasn’t with us, she was over at the picnic tables, drinking a Coke. I stood there in the crowd, knowing that it was my last chance to speak to Mark. I decided that I would wait until I got up close to the green room door, and ask the Stubb’s guy to request that Mark come out to sign my DVD. (Yeah right, I would have totally chickened out of that plan). I was getting myself psyched up for this when Mark pops out of the green room and starts barreling down the sidewalk. FOOM! I take off after him (like lightning, Kikki says). I’m literally running down the sidewal, and when I get up behind him, I shriek, “MARK!” He turns around and stops. I say, “Would you sign this for me?” He says, “You don’t want me to sign that.” I insist that I do. He takes it from me and then looks around like, well? I don’t have a sharpie (I told you, I’m not an autograph person). I ask if anyone has a sharpie and Kikki has a green one. I hand it to Mark and he frowns at the DVD. “Should I sign it right on the front? It’ll wipe off.” I start to say, “Maybe you should sign the liner,” but he is already signing the front cover with the green sharpie. “It’s going to wipe right off,” he says, attempting to wipe it off with his hand. I go into the crowd and borrow a black sharpie from a stranger. Mark signs the DVD again. He signs directly over Russell’s picture and his signature is formless. It looks like he is trying to scribble Russ out. He signs DVDs for Kikki and Heeler and a shirt for Kikki.

If I had it to do over, when I realized I didn’t have a damn Sharpie, I would have dropped the autograph excuse and told him I just wanted to say hi. I was a teensy bit keyed up after the concert and not thinking very clearly. When I woke up the next morning, I asked my roommates, “Did I chase Mark down the sidewalk?” They, of course, assured me that I had.

Heeler says:  Face it, you FRIGHTENED him.

Zenith says:  See? They never let up.

A short time later, much to our surprise, Russell comes out and starts signing stuff. I had been committed to my no-autograph policy (Mark was an exception because he’s not a celebrity), but when faced with the situation, I vacillate. I think about whether I have anything for him to sign. Chili has my shirt, and all I have is the DVD. I don’t think it would be right to ask him to sign something that they are selling autographed copies of, and I REALLY don’t want him to snap at me. He looks so tired; his eyes are so puffy that they are just slits. I am struck by how beautiful his hair is. It looks silky, and it is the most gorgeous cinnamon color. I stand there for a few more minutes, watching, and then decide that my presence is contributing to the pressure on him. I tell Heeler I’m getting out of there, and she agrees and comes with me. We go and get Chili and walk out of Stubbs’ backyard for the last time.

DAY NINE - Sunday the 19th

WE’LL ALWAYS HAVE AUSTIN

The next morning, the tone is completely different. We move slowly around the hotel room, quietly packing our suitcases.

Gradually I gather up my inhibitions, my responsibilities, my reasonable and logical behavior. I make phone calls home to leave flight information and to check on my children. I pack my things, I become quieter and more subdued. I shake out my cloak of respectability. I prepare to re-enter my world, filled with so many “shoulds” and “should nots.”

How to say goodbye? We joke about renting a house together and we aren’t really joking, even though we know it’s impossible. We go to Stubbs gospel brunch, a downcast group. We have “boo-boo lips,” Kikki says. We laugh at that and attempt to be cheerful.

How to say goodbye? We ate, slept, sang, sweated, battled hootchies and line breakers, and partied together. We crammed a lifetime of friendship into nine days. At the end, we hug tightly and long, then walk quickly away, not looking back, before the tears in our eyes trigger a flood in the others’.

My husband picks me up at the airport and my first question is about the temperature:

“Is it hot?” I ask, thinking of the sauna I’ve just left. “It was hot in Austin.”

“It hasn’t been hot here since you left,” he tells me.

“Always take the weather with you.” I say.

“What?”

“A song...” I say softly and smile to myself as I approach the sliding doors to my life.

all photos shamelessly stolen from MaximumRussellCrowe

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