COYTOTE'S ROAD TRIP ADVENTURE--2 Weeks on the Road With Manson

Our cast:
EVB--our prime motivater, arranger, and fearless leader, and driver.
Steve, a/k/a Trent Honey Flash Ramirez--Our Twiggy clone from Detroit. (The resemblance is frightning..)
Cathy--Friend from Nova Scotia, a Danzig fan who's a recent convert (she'd heard POAAF maybe twice before this trip) to the Family of Fuck.
Chris, a/k/a vlad and host of other pseudomyns)Danzig fan and Mansonite from Charlotte, NC, and a real live wire. Also possessor of the only other valid driver's license on the trip...Alabama at 105mph is the only way to go!
Mauricio--Danzig fan from LA, we would have him converted by tour's end..
coyote--your's truly; our humble reporter..

May 2, 1995 - Norfolk, VA, The Boathouse--the show that never was.

We head off to Norfolk somewhat later than originally planned. Steve (a/k/a Trent Honey Flash/Honey Flash Ramirez/Tammy Faye Dahmer ) cannot be woken up for the world, so we actually get on the road at 11:30, with little hope of making the 3PM comic book store signing that Glenn Danzig's doing in Hampton, VA. And it's raining. Steve starts preparing for the evening's events around Richmond, digging out his makeup and applying it liberally ("I get my makeup tips from raccoons!" he announces cheerfully, after blacking out his eye sockets.) Somehow, thanks to Ministry, White Zombie, and Marilyn Manson in the car CD changer, we make it with time to spare- what's usually a 4-5 hour drive turns into three and a half. EVB and Cathy get their stuff signed, while I hang back with Steve, and put the little plastic barrettes in his black and red dreadlocks (the barrettes came with the pink plastic phone/noisemaker we gave him; angelynx'd originally bought it for Twiggy, but it suited Steve SO...), amusing the rest of the metal-ish crowd no end. The transformation to Twiggy has started...

We get to the scenic, lovely Boathouse. It's still raining, and it's cold, and windy - we head up to wait by the door, where there's at least some protection from the elements. (Never mind that we're hours early - it's not much past 4:00, and doors don't open til 7 - we're also not the first ones there. A couple of folks ahead of us have been there since 2.) Honey Flash has parked himself in the car to finish dressing, and the three of us are very afraid. We keep an eye on the dark blue bus parked off in the distance, figuring band members will have to dash by us to get to the club door. We're not wrong. Pretty soon I catch my first sight of Manson life - Twiggy heading resolutely into the place, head down, black coat pulled around him as some protection against the bone-chilling wind and rain. He definitely does NOT want to be walking from the way-back of the lot, and I don't blame him. Ginger follows shortly thereafter, seemingly oblivious to the weather. Steve arrives at our side at about the same time. He's created the total Twiggy look while he's been missing - B/W striped tights, a short black skirt, Black Death t-shirt (sleeveless and shredded, of course), black trenchcoat, the pink plastic phone on its cord around his neck, the little Manson girl X between his eyes...immediately three girls approach him shyly, holding out their POAAF CD covers and pens...the tone for the night is set.

We talk to people, and try to convince them that Steve is not who they think he is. The first time doesn't work. Neither does the second. But, third time's a charm, and this time they believe us. A girl adds several ounces of glitter to Steve's hair as a finishing touch - it's perfect. After a few minutes I spot the real Twiggy heading back to the bus at a high, fast trot. He's holding his hand. Something's up.

About 5:30 they post those signs everyone loves to see - those hastily hand-printed things that say 'due to injury Marilyn Manson will not be performing tonight'. The growing line buzzes and wails. Everyone hopes it's not so. At the first opportunity we corner Ginger (who does not look really happy about the state of the world) - seems dear Twiggy slipped going downstairs while holding a bottle of Jack Daniels. The bottle shattered, of course, and sliced up his hand. It's gonna need stitches. Frankie(Mr. MM tour manager) says that they'll try to get Mr. Manson to do something special for the fans, since the band isn't going to play. And, on such small threads are hopes pinned...Some kids leave, others decide to stick it out and see what happens. They run a brief soundcheck - 'Misery Machine' and one other. Are they gonna try to make a go of it without a bass player? Questions abound.

Steve, meanwhile, is getting LOTS of attention even KORN thought he was Twiggy when he walked by their bus. When the news of MM's cancellation comes out one of the first things suggested is 'hey - we've got a Twiggy double right here - and he plays bass, too, and knows the set..' (as he does). This is a great idea, which gets kicked around in line quite a bit, and even gets as far as Steve's new fans taking him over to the tour bus in hopes of catching the band's attention. (He even gets Eerie Von from Danzig on his side; Von, we later learn, extended the offer to the Mansons of having Steve play for the night. They politely declined, they're too depressed and bummed out to play now, anyway. But, hey, thanks...(Twiggy, I later heard, spends the rest of the night curled up on the bus in a major depression, hurting and feeling really bad that he's let people down. They even sent the road crew out to videotape messages for him from the fans in an attempt to cheer him up. Awwww. Poor kid.)

It's at least 7:45. It's cold, it's wet, it's nasty; inside has GOT to be better than this, even after all the horror stories I've heard about the place (the stories usually start with 'chicken wire' and end with 'Marines. BIG Marines.') The doors finally open. EVB, Cathy and I head down front, right of center - I've decided to risk life and limb for a rumour. (When EVB returns from the bathroom she tells me there are Manson fans in there crying their eyes out. When I finally make it to the small room of great importance during Danzig they, or others, are still there, still crying. I feel like joining them.) We stand. It gets later. It becomes obvious that they've taken the Mansons' time and given part of it to KORN (their set list for the night is about four songs longer than usual), but decided to make the crowd cool its heels for the remainder. They're bored and restless, and the mood is turning ugly. I, meanwhile, cling to my sacred spot on the barrier, and try to not be there.
I spot the set list that won't be used up on one of the speaker cabinets - you know, the set list that starts 'Cake and Sodomy' - and start crying myself. I'm somewhere between depressed about the show, and worried about Twiggy, and being concerned over whether they'll have to cancel the next show (Myrtle Beach) or more of the tour, too.

It's not a good night. KORN finally appear, much to the great pleasure of all of their fans behind us. (I've finally figured out why we're always surrounded by them - we always head down to where they set up Mr. Manson's cube; coincidentally, this is also right where Jonathan - Mr. KORN - stands. Lucky us.) The crowd is revved, bodies fly. It's gonna be a long, rough show. I decide I'll wait until I either hear Danzig's opening music (they're still using the Black Aria piece) or not, before I leave; so I hang on. They're even crowd surfing after KORN leave the stage... Roadies tear down the set; it's not looking good...I'm starting to pick up evil vibes. I bail, and head off, away from the restless crowd. First thing I find is Steve - his count of how many people have asked him for his autograph is already 38.

As we talk first Cathy, then EVB appear. They've both picked up the same crowd feeling I did, and decided a spot down front is not worth getting killed for. We cruise the crowd a bit, realize we're not gonna see Danzig from the back, and start people watching. Which turns into Manson-watching in short order. Ginger takes his customary laps - EVB buttonholes him, and asks how the chances look for Myrtle Beach, since he hadn't been sure at all outside. He gives us an affirmative, says the stitches just need time to heal a bit. We're relieved. (I hear Daisy give roughly the same answer later, which improved my mood even more. It needs it. At this point I'm still not a happy camper - I should be worshipping at the feet of the God of Fuck right now. And I'll bet he's in a FINE mood himself at the moment...)

Danzig play. They sound really good, though someone must be taunting Glenn --he keeps blowing lines, and I've seen 'em enough times to know what that means. The violence level in the place is tangible - it's living up to its rep. And more Manson fans keep trailing Steve...and when he tells them that no, he's not in the band, they come and ask ME if he is..of course, he's not helping this by hanging around near Ginger and Daisy, either. By the concert's end he'd given up tallying how many people had asked if he was Twiggy (over 100), and wasn't even counting the ones who were coming up and giving him their condolences on the damaged hand. More cornered us in the parking lot - a guy, somewhat drunk, with a poster, caught Steve as we got into the car, and started firing questions at him; he was one of those who just couldn't hear 'but I'm not'. Steve faked it, answered with whatever popped into his mind as he tried to get away - we sat in the car and DIED, true hysterics took over as we couldn't breathe for laughing. FINALLY brought it all to an end by grabbing Steve's sleeve and pulling him in with an order "yo, RAMIREZ, get in the car!" 20/30 miles down the road we stop for gas. Steve cruises the mini mart for Doritos...a couple of kids therein whisper, and get out their cameras...

--coyote--