Sunday, July 23, 2006
Indy Indie
Hey Kids,
The big reg ball of flame that heats our planet is sinking beneath the green horizon of middle America outside the tour bus window - we're pulling out of Indianapolis, Indiana and headed to Pikeville Kentucky.
Today was our best day on Ozz Fest so far.
It's miraculous - I woke up pretty bummed out today. Last night I got the call that my old partner - who helped break me into the carnival business - Bushell Basket Johnny od'd and died yesterday. No matter how many times it happens - it never stops sucking and even when you think it wouldn't be a surprise - it always is. And it never seems to get easier.
Johnny and I were parners in crime a long time ago - he taught me a lot about the carnival business - and helped me out of a bunch of hard times. Looking back on it I guess it was hard times all the time - but it never seemed to matter.
Really - looking back on it - it seems like it was a blast.
But I got out - and Johnny never did.
Every now and then I would still get the call about a great score that we could get so easy - but I guessed I missed my chance to go out on one more crazy run with Johnny.
We sold inflatable baseball bats on the train on the way to Yankee Stadium during the World Series -
Scored a bunch of knock of over cats from a deserted carnival -
And benches from an abandoned church -
Which are actually the seats now when you go to the Coney Island Museum.
One winter we worked a flat store (gambling carnival game for you non-carnies) in Times Square - and it was always fun.
It was always a party. I remember Johnny sending a bum to go get him a bottle of Vodka from the liquor store and drinking the whole bottle in one shot.
We would hustle and scheme - but we never hurt anyone - and even if we left with your money - chances are you left smiling. Johnny taught me that.
But again - I got out - and Johnny didn't.
He worked the carnival games across the street from me in Coney Island when I was at the sideshow - and he was hands down the best agent I've ever seen work a mark.
Always smiling and always going home with all their money.
So I woke up still upset that when I go home - in just a few days - we play New York - I was supposed to see him - it's just not going to happen.
But Johnny wouldn't want me upset - or anyone else - so I put on my costume and drank a beer early in the morning - and went to the show to do what Johnny taught me. The carny tradition. G.T.F.M. Get Their Fucking Money. And today we sold the more tickets to the show and I brought in more money on the blade box pitch than we ever have before on this show.
Thanks Johnny.
It's all for you.
The big reg ball of flame that heats our planet is sinking beneath the green horizon of middle America outside the tour bus window - we're pulling out of Indianapolis, Indiana and headed to Pikeville Kentucky.
Today was our best day on Ozz Fest so far.
It's miraculous - I woke up pretty bummed out today. Last night I got the call that my old partner - who helped break me into the carnival business - Bushell Basket Johnny od'd and died yesterday. No matter how many times it happens - it never stops sucking and even when you think it wouldn't be a surprise - it always is. And it never seems to get easier.
Johnny and I were parners in crime a long time ago - he taught me a lot about the carnival business - and helped me out of a bunch of hard times. Looking back on it I guess it was hard times all the time - but it never seemed to matter.
Really - looking back on it - it seems like it was a blast.
But I got out - and Johnny never did.
Every now and then I would still get the call about a great score that we could get so easy - but I guessed I missed my chance to go out on one more crazy run with Johnny.
We sold inflatable baseball bats on the train on the way to Yankee Stadium during the World Series -
Scored a bunch of knock of over cats from a deserted carnival -
And benches from an abandoned church -
Which are actually the seats now when you go to the Coney Island Museum.
One winter we worked a flat store (gambling carnival game for you non-carnies) in Times Square - and it was always fun.
It was always a party. I remember Johnny sending a bum to go get him a bottle of Vodka from the liquor store and drinking the whole bottle in one shot.
We would hustle and scheme - but we never hurt anyone - and even if we left with your money - chances are you left smiling. Johnny taught me that.
But again - I got out - and Johnny didn't.
He worked the carnival games across the street from me in Coney Island when I was at the sideshow - and he was hands down the best agent I've ever seen work a mark.
Always smiling and always going home with all their money.
So I woke up still upset that when I go home - in just a few days - we play New York - I was supposed to see him - it's just not going to happen.
But Johnny wouldn't want me upset - or anyone else - so I put on my costume and drank a beer early in the morning - and went to the show to do what Johnny taught me. The carny tradition. G.T.F.M. Get Their Fucking Money. And today we sold the more tickets to the show and I brought in more money on the blade box pitch than we ever have before on this show.
Thanks Johnny.
It's all for you.
