Well, I can't believe it, but the FUCKING RETARDS that ride my bus managed to outdo themselves. The Indianapolis-to-Chicago outrage is now the second-worst bus ride I've been on. This one was waaaaay worse. Not one wink of sleep did I get during the 5-hour drive, due to the noise. This was with earplugs in, too.
Fuckers. I hope you all rot in hell.
We pulled up to the hotel at 5:15am. I got into my room and laid down about 6, but was awakened at 7:15 by all the traffic noise outside. I'm on the 7th floor, with a corner room (extra windows!), overlooking Penn Station. Lots of commuters, lots of cabs, lots of everything. Lots of noise. Oh, well, at least now I have an early start on the day.
Around 4:30, I head out. I'm taking the train out to see Kenny Soule and his lovely wife, Anne. They live in Richmond Hill, in Queens. Across the street from my hotel, at Penn Station, I catch the LIRR (Long Island Railroad) out to Jamaica, Queens, then double back a bit on the J train to Richmond Hill. I called Kenny 2 stops before arriving and he walks down to the station to meet me, then we walked the 3-4 blocks to their house.
They have a lovely home. Too many stairs for my tired old ass, but a killer place nonetheless. Kenny's got his drum lesson studio in the basement with 2 drumkits set up. Main floor has the foyer, a small parlour, living room, and kitchen. Upstairs are the bedrooms, and a third floor has Kenny's getaway room. Like I said, great house.
Out back, their back yard is pretty amazing. The lady who sold them the house had one helluva green thumb. There must have been 30-40 different types of plants out there. Also, a great patio with a table and chairs, and a hidden and very private area at the rear of the yard.
There's a massive park just steps from their house. Kenny tells me it's about a mile long. Cool.
We kill some time watching the new Grand Funk DVD that came out 2 weeks ago – mine's waiting for me at home. Anne shows up from work, we order some Thai take-out food, then Kenny and me jump in his van to go pick it up. Along the way, I get the nickel tour of where they used to live in Forest Hills, not far from the U.S. Open Tennis Stadium, which we drive around at one point.
Back at the house with the food, we dine outside on the patio. The weather couldn't be nicer. Chat for some time, and then Anne goes to bed around 10:15. Kenny and me hang, just drinking and talking for a long time. He tells a couple of good stories that involve doing gigs with Andy Swindell, who's always good for a laugh.
I could do this all night, but I gotta split, so I can get the trains back into Manhattan. Kenny walks me to the station, then he heads back home. Always a pleasure to hang with him. He's one of the reasons I love having a day off in NYC.
Back in my room around 1am.