The Grand Illusion. (Do parents dream of electric sleep).
I got home the other day from our Christchurch trip. It was an inspiring and emotional few days. We got to have a good look around the city and get a better understanding of how much of the Christchurch that we new for years, has gone. It was breath taking when we finally got our bearings, and realized exactly how many of the streets of buildings that we once new, had disappeared.
But after talking to friends, seeing the work that has already been done, and hearing many people express an opinion that they felt that the city has finally turned a corner, I felt an amazing sense of rebirth. I guess it’s a feeling of renewal, that is only felt after such a big change.
The show on the Friday night was an amazing success, on all counts. I love it when we’re an arena rock band in full flight. That’s everything I dreamed of being when I was 13 and playing my guitar to Ngaio, on top of the mudslide cliff, at the bottom of my parents house. That’s also ironic, because most likely earlier in a typical day back then, I would have been playing in the Onslow College lunch time covers band, with my back to the audience. But times have changed. Thank god. And at Horncastle arena in Christchurch, I felt like a golden rock god. Edit cut to a typical overcast Melbourne spring day, in a very working class south eastern suburb, and I’m wiping poo off my boy’s bum.
I went for a jog the next day and ended up spending half the run trying to upgrade my music streaming app. Mastodon and Deadmau5 make for great running music. One makes you feel like there’s someone running behind you with a knife, and the other, like you’re running in the movie, Gallipoli. Next, it was a guilty pleasure. Journey’s, Don’t Stop Believing. I love that CP88 piano, fretless bass and guitar solo. It’s a bummer that they played the last Republican national convention. Oh well. Wagner wasn’t a perfect human either. Then it was on to Unchained, by Van Halen. That reminded me of when I used to torture the other guys in the band by demanding that they play acrobatic key changes, purely for the glory of my Malmsteen-esk guitar solos, over the top.
Ok. Our new baby is born now. Strewth. I’m currently walking from where I parked the car, to the hospital, to see mother and bubs. But it’s taking forever, because I’m too stingy to park in the expensive parking building next to the hospital. So I managed to find free, unlimited parking 500 metres away in the suburban back streets. But my 3 year old son is walking at about 2 metres per minute, so it’s taking forever to get there. Later that night in the dark, I stubbed my toe on my sons naughty stole. Is that karmic payback for daddy?
I can’t wait for the first show of the FVEY tour on the 24th.