Musically though, I remained unimpressed, and amused my friends by nodding off in the middle of the concert. In my defense, I had gone with very little sleep in the previous 72 hours, and there was no way those decibels on their own could have kept me awake!
Still, I was hugely entertained by what I did see of JM's antics, though the next day in the autograph session, I couldn't stop myself from saying to him that I thought they'd played a better gig in Amsterdam -- a judgment he fully agreed with. By then, he seemed pretty embarrassed about the whole thing, and I later learned he had gotten a bollocking over it from various people in his entourage, poor thing.
Not that the obvious embarrassment had made him any more inclined to engage his brain before speaking, and he ended up alienating more of his fans during his Q&A, by his comment on what he'd like to do to George W. Bush over the Iraq situation (chop off his hands and drop him in the desert somewhere, far from help and succour) -- a terribly unkind and not at all clever thing to say.
There were a few more politically motivated speeches that day, e.g. in the Trio's Q&A, where Danny Strong told us of the work he would soon be doing (or had already been doing) for the Kerry campaign.
A recurring topic on all the Q&A-s was the impact of reality TV on the careers of our esteemed actors, and it all sounded quite worrying. Hopefully, people will tire of the phenomenon soon enough, but even if they do, there's no guarantees the networks will go back to funding quality drama, and most of the actors are already branching out into other fields of creativity, as with Danny Strong, who has gotten into writing.
For once, Cass and I managed to entice Jules away from her gruelling volunteer's schedule and take her for a relaxing round of midget golf with us. Ah! the liberating powers of the giggles! Then she had to go to the volunteer party and Cass and I watched Chance (Jules had auctioned off her copy of Winding Roads, which means some other poor mug is lumbered with it now) before we all met up again to go to the VIP Dance.
En route, we stopped in at the karaoke party, which was a sad affair consisting of a glaringly bright hall, about 800 chairs and an attendance rate of about 5. I'd never done karaoke in my life, but with Jules and a girl introducing herself as 'Demongrrrl' who, for some strange no-reason, kept addressing me in German, launched into a spirited rendition of Don McLean's classic 'American Pie'. (Earlier, in the comfort of our suite, Cass and I had treated Jules to 'The Lumberjack Song', so neither of them allowed me to bow out of this one on the grounds that I can't sing for toffee. I apologise wholeheartedly to those 3 or 4 people in the audience who stuck it out all the way through).
The VIP Dance started off equally dismal with most of the attendees hanging around waiting for something to happen or a celeb to walk in, but the Lushette's bar was still open and Fearless Leader Lush and I went back and forth between the two plying the members and James C. Leary with cocktails and Coronas. After a while, the DJs started playing that 80-s music we all love, and in the end a good time was had by all -- all who remained, that is.
Robots Kevin and Charlie did an impromptu breakdance session, which I took as my cue for calling it a night and going up to watch the last two Angel-episodes with Cass and Jules in our suite.
The next day, we set out on the road to Connecticut, playing our Common Rotation-CDs all the way.