Flashback: Paris. On day 3, Jaco, Candice and I went to Versailles to explore the palace.
Seriously beautiful and seriously over the top.
The trees were manicured to within an inch of their little twiggy lives.
No Photoshop, Seriously
The palace itself was a testament to excess and royal insanity.
At odds with the beautiful gold-leafed everything was an art exhibit, unnerving in its randomness. You see, this palace-wide sculpture installation might have been cool... Somewhere else. Somewhere that wasn't the friggin' Palace at Versailles.
What was this installation, you ask? Balloon animals. Made of steel.
Inappropriate
Quite modern and cool actually, but not when standing in front of a gorgeous mural from the French Revolution.
Uber-inappropriate
And, as if things couldn't get more arbitrary, one piece was a steel sculpture of Michael Jackson and his chimp, Bubbles.
Which of These Things is Not Like the Other?
Then we frolicked through the gardens of Marie Antoinette. That party princess had a serious party house with a serious party yard.
Jaco took a pic of me with my serious face:
Don't Mess with the German-Egyptian Frenchman
One more beautiful night in Paris, and then we flew to London to finish the Eurotour with Miley (to be continued).
Ah yes. Back to my EuroStory. From October. I'm that far behind.
When we stepped off the train in Paris, I immediately fell in love. I was sort of geared up for disappointment. After all, how many things in life can possibly live up to my high expectations?
Well, Paris was exactly what I thought it would be: a gorgeous city full of passionate artists, intimate bistros and cheese. Lots of cheese.
Upon arrival, I checked into my impossibly tiny hostel, the Hotel Andre Gill. Yeah, they called it a Hotel, but it was a hostel. In fact, it was basically what you'd get if somebody made a French cartoon about a hostel, complete with a big spirally staircase, Japanese tourists, and the management baking croissants in the kitchen. It was sort of like living in The Triplets of Belleville, only with much less awesomeness and much more body odor.
Okay, not exactly the Ritz, but Disney was not paying for this room. I was. And I am not a person of wealth.
Proudly Displaying Our Two-Star Rating
After checking in, I crammed myself and my bags into the smallest elevator in Europe.
I attempted to turn around while in the elevator, but my backpack and the tiny lift prevented any of that nonsense. This was the kind of elevator one could only "back out" of.
Oh also, my room was on the 6th floor, and the elevator only went to the 5th. Why?
One should not ask questions at the Hotel Andre Gill. If one does, that question may lead to other questions. Like perhaps:
Why is my bed made for a little person?
Why is there only a closet and a sink in my room, and no toilet?
Why is the toilet on the 6th floor out-of-order, forcing me to walk down the stairs, in the dark, in the middle of the night, in my boxer shorts?
Which leads to, why is there no light in the hallway?
Why, when I finally do reach the 5th floor toilet, is the light broken, forcing me to try and aim properly in the dark?
Why, when I want to (heaven forbid) actually shower, do I have to walk to the 5th floor, take the elevator to the 1st floor, and then wait in line for the only shower in the entire building?
So... One should not ask questions at the Hotel Andre Gill.
Apparently, Andre Gill was a famous caricaturist. Just take a moment to let that sink in.
But none of that mattered anyway, because I was in Paris (!), and I certainly planned on spending as little time as possible in my Hotel/hostel.
So out I went. First, to the Eiffel Tower:
Then, to gorge on EuroSweets:
I had quite an adventurous day out, riding the trains, meeting Parisians, speaking pigeon-French. ___________
The following day, I met up with Jamie, Jaco and Candice for a little museum hopping. First, the Rodan museum, for a little sculpture 101.
Staring Contest
The Thinker(s)
Consoling the Inconsolable
Okay, that last one wasn't in the Rodan museum. Because in Paris, there's just random sculpture on the streets. It's like a big art explosion. Otherwise known as "Mike Schmid's New Favorite Place."
At the end of that day, Jamie and I took a little tour of Monmarte: him because he's all cultured n' stuff, and me because I like Amelie.
Sacre Coeur Basillica was a sight to behold: partially because it is a marvel of architechture, and partially because the French insisted on partying hard in front of said marvel, creating a depressing and ironic sight:
Oh, Paris. Even your flaws are strangely artful.
The next day, we checked out Notre Dame, The Musee D'Orsay, The Latin Quarter and...just everything awesome. Lots of walking, lots of bread & dairy, and great...great escargot.
The final day, we went to Versailles. (Next entry).
We headed straight to Brandenburg Gate, and started soaking in history immediately.
Okay, so neither Candice, Jaco nor I had any clue what the historical significance of this gate was. We even read the big plaque thingy. Basically, it had something to do with fighting for independence. Anyway, it was big and pretty and important.
Moving on.
We went to a "traditional German restaurant," whatever that meant. Well, that meant wieners.
And heavy, starchy weightiness in our bellies.
Imagine the digestive tornado to follow. Germans have cast-iron intestines.
We then proceeded to ride the subway everywhere.
We met some really awesome German folks, who became our new friends. Partying ensued. At one point, we had a big sing-along. The Germans sang Kate Nash, the Americans sang Third-Eye Blind (okay, well Jaco did). But everybody knew all the lyrics to Oasis. It's universal.
Eventually we found our way to a party that everybody in town seemed to be talking about. Super "underground." (Of course, how "underground" could it be if everybody was talking about it?) It was a giant dance party held in a former power plant.
Note the 3rd Floor Rocking Out
There was much dancing and frolicking and stumbling about.
On the way home, I noticed that someone had written "Someday you will be loved" on a car window: It was late, I was not-quite-coherent, and I had only seen German written everywhere. For these reasons, I suddenly felt very emotional, and started taking approximately 973 pictures of said window. Jaco and Candice had to convince me of my lameness and pull me away from the car.
And thus the night ended.
Back to our cheap little hostel we went.
Cheap Hostel Room for Three, Please
As we were totally slumming it, Jamie wanted nothing to do with us, and rented a beautiful apartment elsewhere in Berlin. I'm sure he was having fun, but we were roughing it.
Day two: we strolled down the Berlin wall.
The Most Berlin-y Picture I've Ever Seen
Over the next two days, I decided to brush up on my German (I took a few years of it in high school, but had since forgotten much). And there was more dancing. More partying. More taking the subway all over German creation.
After BBC Switch, Jaco, Candice, Jamie and I flew from London to Holland for a little time off.
We stayed on this houseboat.
Which was very exciting,
and showcased a gorgeous view at night.
The streets were full of people on bicycles, flying every which way. It seemed incredibly dangerous to me; I always felt on the verge of being mowed down by some two-wheeled maniac.
One of Jamie's good friends wrote a song about the city, called "Hot Girls on Bikes," due to the scorching hotness of said girls on said bikes. They all looked like models...whizzing past us at high speeds. Jamie was totally into it, because he just likes to look, and not actually talk to girls he finds attractive. I didn't love it as much. By the time I even noticed them, they were already gone. Somehow though, it seemed a fitting metaphor for my lovelife.
Amsterdam is all about Overwindowing
We spent 3 days walking, relaxing, eating, walking, going to museums, eating, walking, and massaging our aching feet. The Van Gogh museum was quite moving.
Our final day in town was punctuated by an extremely random and violent hailstorm, which was kinda fun.
Ah, Utah: state that I never planned to visit. First we filmed our big 3D movie in Salt Lake City, and now we were performing at the Stadium of Fire 4th of July Spectacular in Provo. What a unique place. The state slogan is "Home of Mormons and Meth Labs."
Upon arrival we were greeted by the strangest street fair I've ever seen. For sale: BBQ chicken, Miley Cyrus paintings, marshmallow cannons, Mormon prophet dolls (he recites scripture when you push him!), all manner of pyrotechnics, swords and katanas, and a variety of BB guns. Jaco was eyeing the BB shotgun with laser sight - only $5!
Provo is home to a large amount of ethnic restaurants. Stacy was sure that most of them were terrible. Wandering for nearly an hour, looking in windows for any sign of authenticity, the whole band eventually decided to eschew the Mexican, Italian, and blah blah blah places, and went for the yummy smelling Indian place. It was a surprisingly tasty meal. We all left stuffed.
Afterwards, I walked around town with Nadia, the new background singer. Candice has left us, and Nadia came in to take her place. I had a nice long talk with her about life, love, god, etc. A good night.
The next day, we arrived at the stadium... OF FIRE! --(Sidenote: every time I heard the words "Stadium of Fire," I also heard a big 80's drum fill and some squealing guitars accompanying an "Eye of the Tiger"-like vocalist. STADIUM OF FIIIIIIIRE! It's EXXXXTREEEEEEME! MONSTERRRR TRUUUUUUCKS!)-- I digress.
We came. We soundchecked. We conquered.
We also tested out some giant columns -- OF FIRE.
Jamie refreshed Miley's memory on the chord progression for "I Miss You."
Some of you have also noticed that Stacy wasn't there. Well, he actually was there, just not on stage. He broke his arm playing softball, and has to sit out for six weeks. But he's still the Musical Director, and still bosses us all around. His replacement is an awesome guy named Nate, who previously played on that Rockstar TV show.
The big (drum fill) STADIUM OF FIIIIIIRE!!!!! show equaled the weirdness of the previous day's street fair. It was hosted by right-wingnut, Glen Beck, and included a performance by Blue Man Group.
Much fanfair.
Much FIIIIIIIRE!
Some flags
And fighter jet flyovers
Close call
The best part though -- during the show, the words "Stadium of Fire" came up on a screen all fiery (of course!), and then my dream came true. Out from the speakers came a huge 80's drum fill, and nearly note for note, the beautiful symphony of cheese, exactly as I heard it in my head (minus the "MONSTERRRRRR TRUUUUUUCKS!" part). I laughed for nearly a half-hour after that.
Speaking of fire, check out the hotness (L to R: Kay, Nadia)
At one point, 1300 dancers filled the field and acted out all the sports of the summer Olympics in 7 minutes.
Why? Umm, dunno. Just seemed like a good idea at the time.
The show at Genghis went well enough. A bunch of folks from the tour showed up, including Jaco, Candice and Gabi. We had a great time, and my voice held up fairly well, despite the fact that I was totally stuffed up and feeling pretty icky.
However...I just spoke with my cousin, who is a doctor. He says he thinks from my symptoms that I might have walking pneumonia. This is not as surprising as I wish it was, as Kay has this, and Jason from Mileyworld had to leave the tour because of walking pneumonia.
I'm going to see a doctor this week. Keep your fingers crossed.
During the show, Hannah, Candice and Kay work the crowd into a frenzy. Well technically, they were already in a frenzy, but it's fun to help it along a bit.
The karaoke ended quickly when the DJ had to go home. But not before Kay jauntily sang "This Thing Called Love," and Candice expertly belted "Hit Me With Your Best Shot." The DJ took one look at Kay and referred to her from then on as Hannah Montana. Little did she know how close she was.
We had a nice last supper. Our flights leave early in the morning. We're all flying back to LA together, except for Vashon, who will be flying to New York to join the band for The Lion King on Broadway.
But we'll all see each other in a month for the rodeo in Houston.
Last night was the "little party at Candice's." Or at least that's how she presented it. We were picked up at the hotel by a big stretch Hummer limo, complete with an indoor laser show. When we arrived at the gorgeous Accola compound, we enjoyed an elaborate spread of quail, conch fritters, fondue and fried turky, which is super delicious. I made a playlist (for this very occasion) and tried to include something for everyone, which meant some Posies and Nirvana for the band, some Amy Winehouse for the dancers, and a little Neil Finn for myself.
It was quite the happening event. Lots of toasted marshmallows and toasted crew members.
Thank you, dear readers, for inquiring about our health.
Miley definitely had a rough time last night. She was feeling very sick and actually left the stage at one point. We weren't sure what to do, cause this show runs like clockwork, but that's why we have a Musical Director. Stacy was on the ball and told us to go into "Right Here," so we vamped and goofed around for about three minutes till Miley came back. Candice busted out some genius phrases along the lines of "let's make some noise for Miley to come back out!" A stagehand pulled out a bench for Miley and she performed "Right Here" sitting down. It ended up being quite poignant, and we all had fun being spontaneous for a change.
I hear Miley's doing quite a bit better today. She went with a bunch of the dancers to Disney World and had a little adventure. Sounded cool. They got to go in the back entrances of the rides, and were allowed to ride them twice in a row if they wanted. And they had a van drive them to each ride. That is the way to do Disney World.
Kay is much improved today. She looks like herself again. Stacy seems fully recovered. Me, not so much. I feel like I got hit by a truck with spikes on its wheels. But I still had a great time at Candice's barbecue. I'll tell you more about that later.
My shiny new flu has kicked it into high gear. And why not, cause we've just arrived in Florida. As you may remember, I was very sick last time we were in Florida, and this feels like the exact same flu. Muscle aches, terrible sore throat, etc. Not a good time. But Candice's barbecue for cast and crew is tonight, so I've gotta pull it together in a few hours.
You guys asked for more video, and how could I deny you?
Occasionally during soundcheck, we like to change it up. Stacy pulls an American Hi Fi and becomes lead-singer guy, Jamie puts down his guitar and plays drums and we all join in playing some random tune.
Last night, at the Cajundome, we dressed inside a basketball.
This is also the dressing room for the Ragin' Cajuns, who are on a winning streak, I'm told. I like the little orange outlets in the bottom left corner.
Yesterday, we were working Everlife into the show, so we had a long soundcheck/rehearsal, in which there was much waiting. So we threw a Mini Cuddle Party.
L. to R. - Miley, Jaco and Candice
They're actually laying on the stage.
Also laying on the stage, this note:
And after a long day of rehearsal and playing and driving, this was waiting for me on the windowsill in my room at the Ritz Carlton.
New Years Eve was certainly the most bizarre birthday I've ever had. I woke up around noon (this part was pretty normal, unfortunately) and did the daily food scavenge. Didn't find much in the minibar. So I went back to Cafe Europa, where I had breakfast with Jae and Robin the previous day. "Stick with the safe choice!" That's what I always say. Who cares if you're in a city filled with a multitude of delicious options?
Then I celebrated my birthday by going to the Sprint store and activating my brand new (to me) Treo. Very exciting. While I was in a celebratory mood, I decided to swing by Best Buy on the way back to the hotel to pick up a Spoon record I really wanted. As a present to myself. I went in and found the CD immediately. And then I looked up and realized that Best Buy + NYC + New Year's Eve = NO. The line stretched all the way through the store and out the front door. So I put it down and left.
Later, we all hopped in the van (minus Candice and Kay who unfortunately were replaced by dancers for the day, as there wasn't going to be much room on our tiny rooftop stage). Luckily, Times Square was only three blocks from our hotel, so even with traffic we anticipated a short ride. Unluckily, the police re-routed us at every intersection in some cruel display of misplaced power. It took us almost 45 minutes to get there. Stacy and I thought we should just get out and walk, but for some reason, nobody seemed to want to. This was absurd.
We showed our top-secret Dick Clark passes and were ushered into the ABC building into a tiny room that (strangely enough) had a washer and dryer in it. This was our dressing room.
They brought in some Virgil's Barbecue, but I didn't really like it. Despite everyone saying it was some world-class restaurant, nobody really enjoyed the food in front of us.
Around 5pm, they escorted us all up to the roof for a sound check. It was freezing up there.
The dancers quickly cobbled together a routine, adapted for the tiny stage. We were all very impressed with them.
(R-L: Christina Glur and Ashlee Nino)
To our right, we could see that a massive crowd had already gathered in Times Square. However, we weren't performing to them. Though it looks, on TV, like we're facing the crowd, this is what was directly in front of us:
A lot of people, equipment, and (oddly enough) a UFC billboard owned by CBS. (Why was this on top of the ABC building?)
Stacy began arranging his kit, Jaco was playing with his amp, and I was setting up my keyboard, when BAM, they just started the ProTools tracks and we had to go go go. Nobody even told us we were playing yet and off we went.
Everybody felt frazzled but we got it together quickly. By the time the song ended, we weren't sure if we'd just done a rehearsal or a pre-tape. I think it was both. We did it one more time and then headed back downstairs to the warmth of the Barbecue Laundry Room.
Jack then notified us that we had five hours till the show. Great. Let's go explore! Except, ABC + NYC + New Year's Eve = NO. We weren't allowed to leave the building. The whole place was on lockdown. Nobody really brought anything to do. Except Jamie. He had a deck of cards.
So this is what the next five hours looked like:
Notice, behind Jack is Times Square. We had a great view of all the people wearing their red hats (sponsored by Pontiac!) and the acts performing. We had a TV in the room with a feed of what was going on outside. So we could watch Carrie Underwood on TV and hear the bass and the crowd screaming from outside, and poke our head out the window and looky -- there's Carrie Underwood!
Mostly though we just played cards.
At precisely 9:50pm, we were hurried back up to the roof. Tiffany gave us heating pads to stuff into our clothes. I had previously bought some cut-off gloves from H&M, and I quickly stuffed the pads into the palms. I thought I'd leave my coat behind since we were only playing two songs and I wasn't going to wear it during the broadcast (who wants to look like a puffy porpoise on national TV?).
Little did I know we'd be standing there for a full 20 minutes before we played.
As I froze my bony booty off, I enjoyed this view of the revelers:
The revelers happened to be reveling without any alcohol this year, as Times Square is dry for New Year's. They still seemed totally drunk.
We got a 10 minute warning. Then 5. Then 2 minutes. We were all waiting for the 5-4-3-2 countdown before we start playing.
It didn't come. BANG! The ProTools started again. WHAT!? We all just ran with it. Live television, ladies and germs! When you watch it, you might be able to notice that we're all a little surprised at the beginning.
Needless to say, Miley was great. She was energetic and a total pro in the arctic weather. She's a little 15-year-old powerhouse.
My fingers were frozen, and I had a painful hangnail on my thumb which I had to slam all over the keyboard. None of this felt good.
But what a thrill it was to look to the right and see us playing on all the Jumbotrons in Times Square.
And then as quickly as it began, it was over.
Here it is, as seen on TV (only grainier):
Then we all practically ran out of that building.
But the night wasn't over yet. Part Two coming soon.
That movie that I was raving about in July, Juno, has finally been released in theaters, and it's getting rave reviews from everyone with a pulse. It currently has a 94% on Rotten Tomatoes. Seek it out. You won't be disappointed.
I can't imagine anyone not loving this movie. It's got something for everyone.
Ellen, Miley's makeup artist, happens to be a member of the Academy, and she lent us her Juno DVD screener so we could watch it on the bus. For two reasons:
As opposed to the cold that's going around, there's one bug everybody's been happy to catch: the blogging bug. In addition to me, Kay, Greg and Iggy, Candice just started a blog today. Check it out. A permanent link is joining the others on the right-hand side of this page for future access.
We had to say goodbye to the Royal Park Hotel in the snow, knowing full-well that our next hotel was a Radisson. Goodbye, my love.
Last night, at the Rochester show, I noticed that the stalls in the bathroom were made by:
Yes. It does say "Hiny Hiders."
While backstage, I had a terribly depressing phone conversation, and I really wasn't feeling very happy, with only three minutes to showtime. Jaco turned to me and said, "But now you get to go play in front of 15,000 people! So life is good."
And life was good again. It's hard to be too depressed when you have the best job in the world.
We all went out and played like little kids with a License to Rock. And so I experienced the healing power of Hannah Montana.
After driving about 120 miles in the snow, watching season one of Dexter all the way (Candice and I want to get the band into it, and it seems they're quite enjoying it), here we are at a semi-dumpy Radisson in Grand Rapids. Once again, as with the Radisson in Moline, my Sleep Number bed is broken. Do these things ever work?
And I realize I sound like a hotel snob, and I have become a hotel snob.
But would it really kill them to just get a nice TempurPedic? And leopard bathrobes? And marble sinks? I mean, come on.
The trees were manicured to within an inch of their little twiggy lives.
No Photoshop, Seriously
At odds with the beautiful gold-leafed everything was an art exhibit, unnerving in its randomness. You see, this palace-wide sculpture installation might have been cool... Somewhere else. Somewhere that wasn't the friggin' Palace at Versailles.
Inappropriate
Uber-inappropriate
Which of These Things is Not Like the Other?
Don't Mess with the German-Egyptian Frenchman
Don't Mess with the German-Egyptian Frenchman
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