Miss Massive Snowflake
Queen’s Headache European Tour
April 16, 2008
On train from Roma to Milano

Ciao and good day. I am returning to Malnate today after two glorious days in Rome. I have not had access to the internet for a few days so I have not been able to post my latest writings. The tour is drawing to a close and today, I am dirty, unshaven, and ready for a shower, which I will take as soon as I arrive at Alan’s house in Malnate again. I have just finished reading “You don’t love me yet”, by Jonathon Letham and it was full of plot and longing like most modern books. I enjoyed it and read it quickly.

I arrived in Roma and was greeted at the train station by FR of Vonneumann, which is a band that Rollerball has performed with here in Roma in the past. Amanda and had done some quick recordings in 2001 together and my trumpet can be heard on one of their older releases. We have loosely stayed in touch over the years and it was a pleasure to see him again. We drove wildly through the streets of Rome as only a true Roman driver can. There is no order to the teaming mass of cars, trucks, scooters, motorcycles, and pedestrians. Any opening becomes a lane and the drive is continually punctuated by curses from fellow drivers. I love it and the next time I am in Italy I really want to try driving in Rome and the southern section of the country. Driving only gets wilder the farther south you go, in Naples, Catania, Palermo, and the curses become longer and more complex and filled with imaginative situations.

FR:



After relaxing at FR’s house for a couple of hours we headed to Vonneumann’s studio. I reaquainted myself with the other members of the band, loaded up their gear, and FR and I left for the club, but first we stopped at a wonderful shop and purchased a pizza bianco which is more like a sandwich than a pizza. The bread is a flat bread that is possibly only about a half hour old, a half an inch thick, dusted with sea salt and is split and stuffed with mortadella and mozzarella. Food in Rome is hard to describe to Americans because we are so used to prepackaged and premade food. The culture of food here is fresh, fresh, fresh, and artisan. The mozzarella is so soft and water runs down your arm with each bite, the mortadella is sliced so thin it is impossible to believe. I watched the butcher slice paper thin slices and then lay them out on my bread. This is wrapped in paper and served to you while around 50 other people swarm about you purchasing pastries, oils, vinegars, marinated olives and artichoke hearts. Each one waving a little ticket in the air with their number on it.

We reentered the streets in FR’s tiny Ford and while scooters hovered around us like flies beeping their horns FR told me that he would need to leave for Spain around 6 the next morning and that his mother would be giving me a tour of Rome the next day. He was going on Holiday with his girlfriend to Spain and the only ticket he could find was unfortunately while I was there.

We arrived at Traffic Club and unloaded the car. I did a soundcheck and then Vonneumann did theirs. They sounded quite a bit different than the last time I saw them. More of a solid rock band than the experimental glitch I had witnessed previously. FR plays trumpet now and he credits me with being his inspiration for starting. He began after seeing Rollerball play in Rome 7 years ago. I find this sort of strange because for the most part I have quit playing trumpet. I laid it down on December 12th, 2006, when I quit Rollerball at the Dunes in Portland, OR at a Noisy Pig concert. For around four years I had been wrestling with the idea to stop playing the trumpet because I was becoming more interested in songs then sounds in music. Rollerball had become a much more technical beast then what it was when I originally joined in 1996. I was having a hard time keeping up and my passion was no longer in the trumpet which I had played for around 15 years at that point. I had improved drastically from the beginning but I had reached a plateau and the instrument that most interested me now was one I had always been criticall of, the guitar, that bastion of musicians who overplay and fill every moment with some sort of silly lick.

My voice is the most important part of my set now. I do a combination of Karaoke style music and acoustic guitar based songs. I chose the acoustic guitar because it is transportable easily and does not need anything but a microphone, much to the chagrin of most soundman. Tonight’s soundman was Teo and he went through three mics searching for the right sound and one that didn’t feedback. I sing very loudly and pronounce my lyrics clearly, even in the midst of writhing on the floor or swinging from the rafters. Lyrics, vocals, message, and showmanship is what is most important to Miss Massive Snowflake currently. For many shows on this tour I have eschewed a microphone on my vocals in favor of loud singing from the diaphragm and walking around in the crowd.

Lorenzo the bartender brought Vonneumann and I each a pizza margherita and a beer which we all devoured and then ventured into the streets for an espresso, the wonderful ritual that follows nearly all meals in Italy. When we returned, I watched some high action foosball and then the bands began. Vonneumann pulled me from the back of the club to the front and I watched them with complete attention as they performed. Tony, reminding me of Bill Horist at times, and as the trumpet and clarinet intertwined I became nostalgic of my old instrument and when I return home I will pick it up and maybe have some fun with it again. Thanks Vonneumann for a great concert and for organizing a show for me in Rome. It was completely wonderful.

My set is on fire, and since I have been performing the same set for nearly three weeks day in and day out, I have complete command of my songs and my audience. I can make them laugh and astonish them when I want. I am an actor, jester, musician, ambassador of peace, and I make myself completely approachable after the show. I walk around talking and selling cds, asking questions and thanking people for attending. I have made many fans and nearly nightly the soundman, bartender, organizer, and promoter all buy a cd, if I don’t give them one instead. I find this truly encouraging because they see lots of music and usually are the rather jaded ones.

We returned to FR’s house and as I went to bed he packed his bags for his early flight to Spain. I was asleep when he left and when I awoke at 9 a.m. the next morning I was completely refreshed and ready for my day with FR’s mother, Giovanna. She lives right next door to FR and I went over around 10. This was an interesting day because Giovanna speaks no English and my Italian is scattered and the verbs are full of the wrong tenses and endings. We had coffee and then ventured out into the lively streets of Rome.

Giovanna:

First I had her stop at the same place I had eaten with her son the night before and had the same pizza bianco. I needed to purchase some gifts for Meredith, Marley, and a few other friends and I figure you can never go wrong with food. Pates, vinegars, sweets, chocolate, and oils are coming your way friends that are reading this. Giovanna drove first to a hill that overlooks Rome. I believe it was called Giancolo and is named for the two faced god, Janus. A soldier fires a shot every day at noon and she pointed out some of the taller structures and ruins of Rome. Giovanna is very knowledgeable of her city and I wish that my Italian was better so that I could have understood every word. She showed me where Nero lived, Aphrodite’s temple, buildings built by Mussolini, where St. Peter was jailed, a hospital in the middle of the river where people were quarantined during the plague, and all of these came with a historical lesson that I sometimes understood and other times just smiled and said “non capisco”. After a few hours of “talking” we both needed to give our brains a rest and she decided to sit at a cafe and read while I explored the coliseum, Rome Forum, the Palateno, and other sites that are overrun with tourists for a good reason. Some of these buildings are 2000 years old and are still standing and people are able to go in them and they are in no danger of falling down, while in America sports stadiums are built that barely last twenty years. Oh, how our culture has diminished in quality and technique. We are happy to have a phone that lasts three years or a house that is only seventy years old. We don’t require longevity and so we are given crap. Everything is Pop.

We returned to Giovanna’s and I went to FR’s apartment and relaxed. I wrote some postcards, took a nap, and called Meredith and Marley. Marley had overslept and was at home because she had missed her ride to school. Meredith was at work and I talked with both of them and told them that I was excited to come home and see them. It is hard to tour without them, but in four days we will be back together. I have a fat wallet because touring solo means you get all the money and this tour was well planned out and well executed. A total success. I can’t wait to come back next year and do it all again with even more shows and possibly some more band or family members.

At 8 I went to Giovanna’s and she made me a most wonderful and typically Roman pasta with Parmesan and meat from the jaw of a pig. This was followed by a fried chicken dish, than salad, and finished off with biscotti dipped in a Sicilian wine. Meals in Italy are important and are not hasty. We enjoyed each other’s company and I was impressed with how much my Italian had improved in one day due to forcing me to speak it solely. We said goodnight and I went back to FR’s apartment for a long night’s sleep. I eschewed going out with Tony and the other members of Vonneumann for bed at the early hour of 11 pm.

I arose this morning had a typical Roman breakfast of espresso and a cornetto (pastry). She called a Taxi for me and I had a one last crazy ride through Rome, which I believe is my favorite city in the world, with a talkative cab driver. I boarded the train, finished my book, wrote this journal, and now in five minutes we arrive in Milan. What a perfect way to end this writing. You can expect at least one more entry in this tour diary and then this incredible experience will be over and I will be home at last. Ciao!

Links:
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Photos courtesy of MMS. See more at hairrorist.blogspot.com