Love is terribly overrated; all you really need is metal. Celebrated the sale of my car (yes, I got bent over severely, but every bum in the world was selling their 13 year old station wagons in Auckland at the same time) by attending a great show at the King's Arms featuring some hard and heavy bands, one of which was the premier Metallica tribute band in New Zealand (the fact that they are the only one is irrelevant). A hell of a fun time to be sure with much sweating, yelling, and jostling as one can take.
But it was time to say goodbye to the most beautiful place on Earth (that I have been, anyway) and on to another session of intercontinental public transport. The flight was with Qantas, which meant we were treated like civilized human beings and not diseased cattle unworthy even of a proper butchering. Finally saw Inglorious Basterds and was incredibly amused; too bad it had to be on a 2" screen. However, the US has the TSA, which is bureaucracy at its absolute worst...ironically it's the most prominent a Soviet-style relic in use today.
Eventually I arrived in Portland, where all dirtbagging journeys begin and come to an end. Before I place my neck back in the corporate noose, the Belmont Station calls with it's St. Patrick's Day Stoutfest and, more importantly, German thrash legends Kreator are rolling in to town...like calculus, metal is a true international language!
No comments:
Post a Comment