Why yes hello, faithful readers. I know you’ve been waiting quite some time for this (perhaps for normal bands, it seems like a pretty acceptable amount of time), but you better believe we finally performed again. It was certainly not for an unseemly number of people, god forbid we have a large audience. Every time we’ve played for a large number of people the larger members threatened to kick our ass. As Kevin and I are not all that well built, perhaps it is better that we play in front of people who do not desire to do us bodily harm. Regardless, we actually did play another show.
September 16, 2004 -- Tommy’s Tavern, Brooklyn
I don’t even care to recall the details at this point. I’m still drunk, apparently. Arctic Universe ruled. Vaz ruled. Kevin forgot the $10 I gave him for a car at home, so somehow that made him even more tardy than he normally is. I was more than a little dismayed, but then we played. Somehow, we killed. I am still amazed at how we are regularly able to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat, when it seems like we are quite adept at doing the reverse, individually. I’ve been told that being in a band is supposed to increase the amount of action you get by at least 30%, but I will freely admit to not having had sexual intercourse one single time since Puttin’ On The Ritz began. You do the math. Maybe we suck, but I doubt it. I wholeheartedly believe that we continue to be the best band in the universe. We certainly proved it this evening by managing to not completely fuck up our new song, which might very well be a first. I know that I took the opportunity to sing quite directly to some of our audience members, whether they liked it or not. If you bother to stick around for us, you are sort of taking fate into your own hands. If memory serves me, I might have even wanted to kiss one of them, but I’m not saying whom. You can figure that one out for yourselves, if you have a slide rule handy or something. I’m sure whoever it was, wherever they are, knows. We here at Puttin’ On The Ritz love all of you, but I’m tired of having to tell you so. I would think that you could figure it out for yourselves by this point. Moreover, despite popular opinion, I am not Puttin’ On The Ritz. I don’t perform for quarters or without Kevin Shea. So stop asking me for advice and/or sympathy. Life really is hard for everyone, believe it or not. Lord knows the trouble I’ve seen, etc. If you want another anecdote you can ask, I’m sick of giving them away for free. I’ve already paid my dues, I’m ready to pay my rent. Thank you, goodnight.
PS Will I be quizzed on this later? Do we get to use our notes? Are you, the reader, really going to answer any of my questions? My sources say no, but I’m holding out for a reply that I actually want to hear. So it goes, etc.
Addendum: Upon examining this, illuminated by the sober light of morning, I realized that there are a few things I would like to comment on. First, to clarify (or more likely, obscure) the issue of the audience member that I wanted to kiss. Do not feel left out if you were not present, as there are other people I would like to kiss as well. That seems to be a common theme for Puttin’ On The Ritz; we are constantly adding to the list of women we would like to kiss, would like to kiss again, would like to continue to kiss (were there anyone we were currently kissing). This is not to diminish my particular instincts on that particular evening, either. What all this means, I am not exactly sure. I will let you, the reader, sort that one out. Secondly, also on the topic of women, despite the fact that Kevin and I are both single and not really enjoying much in the way of female comforts these days, this is not a call to arms in any sense. There is no real desperation -- we are not looking for pity or to get randomly sexed up by our rabid fans. Well, maybe Kevin is, I can’t speak for him but in my experience it seems like he might actually enjoy that sort of thing. So ladies, I suppose you can feel free to sex him up if you like. He’s certainly willing. My sexual desires and interests and hang-ups are far too intricate and/or complicated and I don’t really care to share them with you right now. Later, perhaps. Until then or next time or whenever, godspeed.