A new day in Santeago...
The promoter has put us in a stunningly beautiful hotel. Santeago is lovely - it reminds me of California with bigger mountains. I had yesterday off, so our entourage went out for a nice dinner (and lots of drinking!) to celebrate Halloween. I was surprised to see a small group of kids out trick-or-treating in the resturant district we were in, even going into the bars for treats. It made me both happy and homesick, because I love Halloween in San Francisco. But I also picked up a news report that 10 people got shot in the Castro District last night. For decades the Castro has been the place to go hang out on Halloween, with crowds hitting the hundreds of thousands. About 15 years ago the city government decided to make it "official", which meant cops, barracades, and admission tickets along with stages of bands and comedians. I think I liked it better when it was just people having a great time. In 2002 some people were stabbed and the police presence got bigger, and now they might pull the plug on the whole thing.
So today we go off to prepare the show for Thursday night, then on to Buenos Aires, where I do believe a few SGs and their friends are gonna show up...
UPDATE:
While typing this in my Santeago hotel room, the maid is cleaning the room: making my bed, taking out my trash, picking up my dirty towels, and all the things a hotel maid does. I can't help thinking that in this six-star hotel room (paid for by the local Santeago promoter, BTW), I am living higher than the richest of kings of old. What medieval king slept in such a sumptuous bed, ate the finest food from clean, smooth plates, in a bedchamber covered in the richest cloths, temperature kept perfectly comfortable, with a view of staggering mountain ranges through glass as clear as the air itself?
And I feel vaguely uncomfortable, as I always do in this situation, when people are picking up after me and catering to my whims with such deference. I know that's it's their job to do these things, but I also know they make a fraction of the money I make (especially in a South American economy, with apologies to my S.A. friends), and must surely be at least slightly jealous and even resentful of me. I have worked hard for what I have, in my job and other things I do, but even though I assuage my feelings with donations to charities and taking care of those near and dear to me, something always moves me to discomfort at the thought of being "waited on", as if I'm some corpulent aristocrat incapable of cleaning up after himself.
The promoter has put us in a stunningly beautiful hotel. Santeago is lovely - it reminds me of California with bigger mountains. I had yesterday off, so our entourage went out for a nice dinner (and lots of drinking!) to celebrate Halloween. I was surprised to see a small group of kids out trick-or-treating in the resturant district we were in, even going into the bars for treats. It made me both happy and homesick, because I love Halloween in San Francisco. But I also picked up a news report that 10 people got shot in the Castro District last night. For decades the Castro has been the place to go hang out on Halloween, with crowds hitting the hundreds of thousands. About 15 years ago the city government decided to make it "official", which meant cops, barracades, and admission tickets along with stages of bands and comedians. I think I liked it better when it was just people having a great time. In 2002 some people were stabbed and the police presence got bigger, and now they might pull the plug on the whole thing.
So today we go off to prepare the show for Thursday night, then on to Buenos Aires, where I do believe a few SGs and their friends are gonna show up...
UPDATE:
While typing this in my Santeago hotel room, the maid is cleaning the room: making my bed, taking out my trash, picking up my dirty towels, and all the things a hotel maid does. I can't help thinking that in this six-star hotel room (paid for by the local Santeago promoter, BTW), I am living higher than the richest of kings of old. What medieval king slept in such a sumptuous bed, ate the finest food from clean, smooth plates, in a bedchamber covered in the richest cloths, temperature kept perfectly comfortable, with a view of staggering mountain ranges through glass as clear as the air itself?
And I feel vaguely uncomfortable, as I always do in this situation, when people are picking up after me and catering to my whims with such deference. I know that's it's their job to do these things, but I also know they make a fraction of the money I make (especially in a South American economy, with apologies to my S.A. friends), and must surely be at least slightly jealous and even resentful of me. I have worked hard for what I have, in my job and other things I do, but even though I assuage my feelings with donations to charities and taking care of those near and dear to me, something always moves me to discomfort at the thought of being "waited on", as if I'm some corpulent aristocrat incapable of cleaning up after himself.
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
it was incredible
kisses
I really like Daft Punk, is such a great band!...
The name of the city is Santiago actually!
I'll be in Buenos Aires next week, i'm meeting with Kythe also...
Maybe we all can go out...
Bye!