IN THE COUNTRY OF WYMESWOLD NOAD ROTES FROM ERIC TAYLOR As Stolen From Another Ego
		The Trip In: Another trip to England and Leicester. The Wymeswold Memorial Hall (recently brought to fame by the appearance of the renowned performer, Goshite Moribund, built of the great spirit and endurance of pulling oneself into a pair of ill-fitting leather pants....enough flattery, I must go on). I have the good and talented Jake Jones posing as opening act, driver, confidant, friend, knife sharpener, tattoo artist, money exchanger (later, will be of some importance), and will also play the part of "Farts" the carnivorous road manager. I was Fine: This has been another trying day. I did nothing but ride and read. Farts did the driving. I am so tired of this. I want only to get somewhere off the road and insult some decent people. Venue: Sound check took nearly 5 minutes. Don't these people know that my time is valuable? Sound system is near to perfect. Why don't these people use union guys and pull this sound check thing out to something bothersome? I just don't trust a gig where someone has thought it through. The beautiful airplane propeller was not replaced at my last show. The Wymeswold audience took too much interest in my music and writing. These people had the gall to stand patiently on queue for CDs and ask for my autograph. This was my third time in, and I would think that by now these people would understand that I would like to get back to the hotel and ride the elevators. My Special Diet: I have a special diet that was sent to the promoter upon walking in the door on the day of my arrival. It was specifically pointed out that I eat anything (except in Paris). Promoter and wife had the audacity to ask if I would like a glass of wine with dinner. NOW THIS IS WHERE IT GETS WEIRD, as the promoter and his wife are vegetarians. As I have said, I eat anything (except in Paris), and have been known to steal food from unsuspecting and suspecting roadside vendors. I have also been known to eat and digest as much as 40 pounds of Dutch cheese in an evening. My road manager Farts does not eat vegetables of any sort, and has his own special diet of meat, only meat, and I mean it, DIET. Promoter bought meat for this carnivore and then had the nerve to tell a brilliantly funny story about meeting the butcher for the first time in 30 years. Farts was able to have his meat and eat it, too, all thanks to this promoter and his wife who had to ruin the evening with their thoughtfulness and kindness. Life on the road is sometimes hard to take. Don't they know that I had to ride two hours today to get to this show? Or was it yesterday? I can't remember... because of the kindness shown to us, there was way too much very good wine the night before......now I remember......these kind of people ruin my life. Promoter and Wife: Promoter and wife much too interesting. They were able to share good and intelligent conversations. They both genuinely like music and writing. It seems like people would understand that this is not good for an artist. A good artist will have good and intelligent conversations with his or herself, alone in the hotel room, where there is time to mark complaints about the kindness of others. Most of us don't like music or writing. The road can be hard because of this being so misunderstood. Was laughed at by promoter when I asked if I could leave some money for the phone and computer use. He actually laughed at me and said something like, "Don't be daft, it wouldn't be enough money to stop and count," or something like that, and then he laughed again. Generous and laughing people can get on your nerves when you're on the road and working so hard to distance yourself from the human element. Trying to be an artist is an unforgiving task and leaves no room for generosity. Promoter shared same interest in Cuban music as artist. Promoter makes gift of Cuban music CDs to artist as he leaves. This kind of shit will make us fear kindness more than ever. Promoter's two sons much too well put together. Again, willing and able to take part in intelligent conversations while offering to help bring baggage and instruments in from the car. How am I to be expected to put up with such? Wymeswold/Leicester/and Surroundings The promoter and his wife have neighbors. This is never a good idea. It always seems that people with kindness have neighbors that go through the same irritating scenario of offering help when you really need it. If you have the stamina, I will give an example of what I mean. This promoter and his wife had a neighbor that took my clothes (after being washed at promoter's by promoter's wife) to her house next door and put them in the dryer (make note to mention that promoter and wife provided no dryer for artist), then folded and returned my clothes to the foot of the stairs. I mean, really!!! Couldn't I have been given a few pieces of cold ham with those clothes? Where's that careless chambermaid? Bartenders and pub life much too inviting and gracious. My first few visits, there was a kid that played guitar better than me. Not only that, but he had the nerve to walk back to the house from the Hall to make and bring me a pot of hot coffee. Few people realize how that sort of kindness can be so hard on an artist. Accommodations: My main complaint about the accommodations is that the morning I left for the airport there was no towel rack in the bathroom. There also seemed to be some stains on one of the beautiful rugs downstairs.
		For further information on rotes from the noad, please click here for Eric's inspiration. When Eric read this, he was reminded of William S. Burroughs's brilliant piece, "Bill's Advice to Young People," which reads: "Never offer sympathy to the mentally ill. You tell them firmly, 'I am not paid to listen to this drivel.' You are a terminal fool."