Cedar Kinda Rapid

Few things seem to move quickly in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. Last night I stole a bowl of raisin bran from our tour bus. To do this I had to leave my hotel room and venture into Saturday night in Iowa. The stoplights were flashing yellow or red. This immediately transported me to Summers of '95 and '96 in Omaha, when I was old enough to drive, and old enough to stay out until after the stoplights called it quits. Those were the days... That's not exactly true. Maybe they weren't "the" days, but there were definitely "days" nonetheless. I would, however, like to play some sand volleyball next door to the Rockbrook swimming pool again.

This is what happens when you have two days off in Iowa. Nostalgia sets in.

I've spent the last two days hibernating in the Five Seasons Hotel (apparently, the fifth season is the only thing that happens quickly in Cedar Rapids, it's so fast that you probably don't even know it exists). I turned my room on the concierge level into a recording studio yesterday, and put to use a new friend whom I'll introduce you to at the end of this weblog. So far as I can tell the benefits of staying on the concierge level are thus: it smells like cologne, to the degree that you would think the "H" and "C" on the faucet stand for Helmut Lang and Kenneth Cole. Secondly, you have to insert your key to access the floor. Which is a problem because, now that I think of it, the thing that REALLY moves quickly in Cedar Rapids are the elevator doors. It reminds of Muhammad Ali saying "I'm so fast that last night I turned off the light switch in my hotel room and was in bed before the room was dark." He must've programmed these elevators, because those doors are steel lightning.

The other interesting/inane thing I learned in the guillotine-speed elevators of the Five Seasons is they have a very special menu which advertises that they serve (apologies to Jay Leno for stealing his bit) "Double Lamp Chops"!! Yum! I like the fluorescent bulb lamp chops because they stay bright in your stomach twice as long.

Nostalgia manifested itself in an unexpected way in Iowa. I've been known to rummage through pawn shops whenever the opportunity arises. In Wisconsin a few years back I found a Wurlitzer 200 A electric piano that I've seen used on albums, a movie, and abused on the road. This weekend I made my second great pawn shop find.

I need a second acoustic guitar in case I break a string on stage during a solo show, and also so I can have a broader palette to record with. I was looking for a parlor guitar, or even a beginner/tiny-size acoustic with steel strings, because those can sound really cool on a recording session (plus you look like you're playing a Hobbit's guitar). I found a $50 beginner acoustic in Siegel's pawn shop. The brand was "Lauren", or maybe the previous owner just decided to scrawl her name on the headstock for kicks. I was ready to rock out the door with it, when one of the Drake Bell band dudes told me there was an old Dobro guitar on consignment in the other room. A Dobro is one of those guitars that has an aluminum resonator-thingy in it, and is often used with a slide. As you can tell, I'm an expert. The Dobro they had was from the late 1930's, and it played like a dream. I put a bid on that sucker, and after a long night of nail-biting, and a few minutes of counter-offering the next day, I now own an 80 year-old guitar! Old Faithful, as I'm tentatively naming it, has already been put to work in the studio, and given birth to a new song. The old dog is teaching me new tricks.

Lobby call is in 45 minutes. Time to wrap 'er up.

Till next time...

Don't move to fast, unless you're getting on an elevator.