Thursday, June 19, 2008

graceland to the alamo and all points in between

What a long drive it was from Michigan to San Antonio. Seriously. By the end of our days' drive I was pretty much ready to punch Mr. Jon. I know I have a long list of my own idiosyncrasies but still. Still. GRRRR. ARGH. That being said, we had a pleasant evening in Mount Vernon where Jon regaled me with a funny story from his last time in Denver where he lost himself across the street from his hotel. We've all done it on the road... it just happens. You don't even have to be chemically altered but when all hotels look the same, it's easy to get confused from one city to the next.

We only managed to miss one exit -- near Little Rock. Looking back on it, it's quite funny, actually. I was driving and asked Jon if we needed the circular... the 430 or something and he was like, "no" so I kept driving. After a good 20 minutes when it was clear we were off track, I asked him to check the map. Not a big deal... it was pretty funny. He, on the other hand, gets easily flustered when he's driving. Case in point: yesterday, Alamo, parking. We missed our turn-in to a parking lot because apparently I was supposed to be advising him... one simple detail overlooked: I wasn't told that I was to be looking for a parking lot entrance. D'oh! This after telling him we'd have no problems finding parking near the actual Alamo because there are plenty of tour busses parking up near there while he was trying to park near the Market... but whatever. I'm a girl, he's a guy... Venus/Mars, right?

To be fair, when we got stuck in a torrential downpour (seriously, semis were pulling over to the side of the road), Jon pushed on -- he found a semi with hazards on that he could see so we tail-gated him for 45 minutes going 30 mph through eastern Texas. I was seriously having a coronary, but he kept calm and got us through it.

I know he means well, but sometimes he's a bit patronizing. I keep saying to him, "I know you're thinking out loud when you're telling me what I need to be doing... you're not just telling me how to do my job, right?" But sometimes it's hard to tell. He's not lacking social skills necessarily, just the ability to monitor the tone of his voice so that it doesn't sound like he's shouting directions all the time. Le sigh. It's just hard work for me to not get wound up by it... because I know he doesn't mean anything by it but when I'm tired, it's difficult to remember that his intention doesn't match his tone... 9 more days, 9 more days.

So anyhoodle, Graceland. I was mildly disappointed by the mere fact that it's not as tacky as I expected. Sure there are white monkeys and skulls all over, but I was expecting full-on shag carpeting and gold. There was shag -- but it was pretty tame... and the gold accents were almost tasteful (as tasteful as possible in the 70's). The costumes didn't disappoint, though... what was surprising was how small Elvis was. He was just a wee man -- even in the "fat" years. Here's a monkey. I totally wanted to touch it, alas, it's all behind a velvet rope:And the Alamo? Points lost on lack of tacky, too. It was 104 in San Antonio yesterday... I honestly don't know how people live here. We have our show today and then a horrible drive (860 miles) to Bessemer, AL where we have to vend, under a tent, in the hot after our 13-hour drive... THEN we drive another 5 hours to Valdosta, GA (it's pretty much Florida) for our last in a three-show run which dumps us in Atlanta for four very hard-earned days off. I'm planning on hitting up the Coke museum finally. They better have snowglobes.

I'll tell you what... I miss 4-star touring doing Production and/or Wardrobe... next year better prove fruitful in that department or I might have to rethink my career path.

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