Hey all… time to snoop through Noah’s diary again. Why? Because we can.
Tuesday, October 21, 2025, 10am: No band rehearsal tonight as Howie has fled to Vegas to mourn the loss of Ace Frehley.
Hey, I’m sad Ace died, too, but I don’t see how a trip to Vegas would change anything. I dunno, Howie’s weird.
I think he’s going to Cabo, actually. He does this every few months: go and hang around Sammy Hagar’s bar down there and tell anyone who will listen what a hot shot guitarist he is in the hopes of getting hired by Sammy.
Well, I guess if it makes him happy… but it’s annoying and disruptive to the rest of the band. And he lies about it pretending to go to Vegas or LA or Miami instead.
I mean, it’s nice to have a night off, but still.
Ruth and I are gonna have an impromptu date night tonight, with Agnes coming over to mind Ursula and Valerie while we go see a movie. Ruth got to pick last time so it’s my turn and I wanna go see Good Fortune. It’s supposed to be pretty funny, and it has Keanu Reeves in it, so that should make Ruth happy.
It’s the second date night this week: I didn’t have a gig on Saturday ‘cause of that whole bride-found-out-her-man-banged-her-sister thing, so me and Ruth drove up to Duncan to see this U2 tribute band U4 from Vancouver.
AKA: competition for my U2 tribute band Flyswatter.
They were pretty good… I guess… for a band that doesn’t have me in it… but Ruth agrees I have the better Bono outfits. Which is good, because otherwise I woulda made her walk home from Duncan in the rain.
The theatre was pretty empty but I guess there was also a hockey game on in the same building and Duncan’s kinda more of a hockey town. I’ve played in Duncan a couple times. It can be kinda brutal, some nights we’ve had full crowds, but some nights are just awful. This one time my Bon Jovi tribute went up there for a Friday night show and there were 3 old hippies in the back of the room talking very loudly about their colonoscopies and which strain of medicinal weed helps hemorrhoids the most while 2 drunk 50-something divorcees were dancing by themselves in front of the stage and their 30-something daughters sat off to the side looking at their phones.
I hear puppet shows do really well there… maybe next time one of my bands plays up there I should dress like Cookie Monster, kinda get on their level, y’know…
Anyway… morning pages… I’m supposed to be writing my thoughts… We crashed at Duke & Bethany’s place in Shawnigan Lake. It’s a pretty nice place, except his hunting dogs were going crazy all night, guess they thought there was a cougar in the yard or something. I think I mighta gotten lucky on Saturday if it weren’t for the damned dogs keeping everyone awake and Duke was trying to get them to chill out but no dice.
Ruth slept through it, but Ruth can sleep through anything. Lucky her.
And then we got up early to have breakfast with Duke & Bethany before heading off to church on the way home.
Maybe I’ll have better luck tonight. I think on the way home I might drive us down to the end of Telegraph Bay Road for a teenage-style makeout… hopefully the spot isn’t already taken by actual teenagers, but there’s a few other spots around the different dead ends with beach access. And teenagers don’t have as many cars as they did when I was a teenager.
I gotta remember to make room by taking out Valerie’s car seat and Ursula’s booster seat… y’know in case Agnes needs them in an emergency. 😉
Days like this I think maybe we should get a minivan for better date night make-out space, but then on gig nights I’d get stuck hauling amps and crap like that, which is why I just have a small sedan. Really, the ideal car for a lead singer is one of those goofy little Smart cars if you can’t afford a tiny Italian sports car. I just need to carry my microphone, some water, and 5 costume changes for a show. Drummers, bassists, and guitarists need to handle their own gear space needs.
I suppose Ruth’s right that a ’70s muscle car would have a better backseat, but again: amps. Plus I don’t know anything about fixing cars and I think you need to to have a muscle car.
Sure, Glen knows about cars, but I get enough crap from Glen about not knowing how to change my own oil in my current car. I’d never hear the end of it if I got a muscle car and had to ask him for advice all the time. I mean, Adam could help out since he learned a lot about cars from Glen and has a muscle car of his own, but still.
Oh well.
So… my regular car stays.
Anyway, finding a place to park after the movie’ll work better than waiting til we get home because first Agnes is going to want to rat out every little thing the kids did when we were out and then probably Ursula will hear that and come out to argue and to demand cookies and then the baby’s gonna wake up and need feeding and by the time we get through all of that, we’re exhausted and Ruth likes getting up early in the morning and boom… no dice. Again.
