September 19 - Arrebato XV Aniversario Fest, Zaragoza Spain

Signs along the jagged, peach terrain between Madrid and Zaragoza showed mountains crying.  The jet engine roar of outdoor hardcore led us to the Arrebato 15^th year anniversary festival.  Fifteen years is a long time for anything, but it’s especially impressive for a collective of musicians that receive constant scorn and legal stress from the normales.  In the midst of the 120 bpm maelstrom an elderly woman slowly approached, struggling to walk but having no trouble voicing her anger about the racket.  I apologized in English.

Mike, Greg, Esther and I walked to the Basilica de Pilar, a Catholic equivalent to the Mall of America.  An awe-inspiring palace showcased several functioning altars, priests reading the Bible in penance booths, their lights gleaming like blue light specials, and as many crucified Jesus feet as there are pursed lips.  I got a postcard for my Mom.  On the way back to the festival I purchased a set of Mary Merche paper dolls from a street vendor.  I thought this could be a gift for my girlfriend, but then I realized it was for me.  I think I’m getting weird.

Javier and Maria drove in from Madrid to catch the show.  They are the most lovely people, somehow familiar with my old band Let’s Get Out of This Terrible Sandwich Shop.  In Spain it seems that the Roydale record label "es el rey."  It was nice to see that wonderful couple in the audience singing and dancing.

It was also nice to see Alan in the audience for “Vanilla Bean,” with a cordless microphone for the first time.  As he muttered his way past the crowd and into an isolated part of the park, a few dogs ran in front of the stage.  Justyna took pictures and helped with merch, though we had to compete with anarchist literature.  Perhaps we should transcribe Alan’s rants and sell them in baggies.

Danny from the festival took care of us, and after a quick spin in Cowtown’s kooky LDV, we met on the 11^th floor roof of a loft filled with a cello, a Rhodes, an electric sitar, and much more.  Lately I’ve been drinking too much and doing or saying stupid things.  Last night I claimed that Dick Cheney’s favorite band was King Crimson.  This was met with silence and in it I went to bed.