May 5 - Charlotte, NC, the Ritz Capri

So, here we are, sitting in the lobby of the Holiday Inn across from the Ritz Capri. There's a silver bus parked on one side of it, and a dark blue one way in the back on the other side. Hmm, wonder what that means... We can't check in until 4PM, and it's about 3:30, so we thought we'd stake out the place. Right now I'm trying not to laugh at the lobby sign for the hotel restaurant - 'Marilyn's Bar and Grill'. (They also serve 'Marilyn's Buffet'...try to picture what would be on THAT.) KORN are out wandering around the street; saw 'em and said a quick hi as we came in. I think they're vastly amused and more than a little amazed.

Later.....

Oh, what a night. WHAT a night. We run into our friend Mark and his brother (who's got one of those lovely old MM Baphomet design shirts on) and stake out an up-front spot with them. I'm moved over more to the right than I prefer, more between Daisy and the speaker than toward the center.. And wait through KORN (or, as they've been dubbed, Rage Against The Red Hot Zombie Machine). I'm a bit frustrated at being shifted out of my chosen spot, and beginning to head into Weird Mood Central.

Manson's crew begins to set up their stuff; there's almost no room to move on stage, so we get no cube again. I miss my Manson gargoyle. (in fact, during Danzig's set Glenn bitches about the size of the stage--"If you wanna know why we're running into each other up here...") Almost immediately there's trouble; Madonna's keyboard is having one of its temperamental moods. I'd heard earlier that he'd been having problems with the computer, and it's still being evil now. The roadies fuss, but it remains a disc-eating corpse. They haul Madonna Wayne hisself out--four roadies and Madonna work frantically over the recalcitrant beast. Madonna sez some bad things at it. Ginger comes out and does his minute drum adjustment thing. I've noticed this is a nightly ritual--no matter how the drum tech sets things up, Ginger MUST come out and at least move a cymbal a quarter of an inch.

Oh, a quick Ginger story. We were in a store a block or so down from the club; Deb was hanging out front waiting for us. Here comes Ginger. She sez hi, and he bounces up in his usual way. "Is there a music shop around here?" he asks. Deb ponders: "You mean like records or shirts or the real thing?" "Someone told me there was a good drum shop somewhere.." Deb says yeah, it's up a block, and across the (very busy) street. If he can wait a minute, she suggests, one of us will be out and we'd be happy to give him a lift. Thanks, he says, but he can be there by then-- "I walk fast." "So I hear," comes back Deb, and Ginger cracks up big-time, then sails off down the street. Later, while we're in line, he appears again and Deb asks him if he found the store OK. "Yeah, and I found what I needed, but I bought the wrong one--I'm on my way back now..."

Other great in-line sights: Twiggy, Ginger, misc. roadie, and Joey Castillo (Danzig's drummer) heading up the street to McDonalds. Twiggy and Joey are walking ahead of the other two, Joey is rattling on about something, and Twig is just dying - leaning on Joey, laughing so hard he can barely stand, let alone walk. Really cute.

A bit later (after Daisy and Madonna creep off in the other direction in search of food), I see Chris, the Mansons' sound guy, looking a bit perturbed but resigned, carrying one of those styrofoam takeout thingies. Onto the dark blue bus it goes, and Mr. Sound Guy heads back inside the venue, shaking his head. I know what lives on the bus...

ANYway, back to our regularly scheduled show. They come out and things instantly feel a bit weird. I see Steve sneaking around back behind the equipment, resplendent in his fishnet stockings and short black skirt; he waves at Deb and me, and ducks behind some equipment. What the hell? I think, and turn back to watching Mr. Manson.

It's on with the show. They sound good, though they're missing a fair amount of their samples due to the malfunctioning keyboard. The Rev's in fine form, but something's just off--could be the vibes in the place, which are pretty violent and get worse.

Bad microphone problems during 'Dope Hat'--the damned thing keeps cutting out, and he throws it down hard in disgust, and kicks the mike stand before trying it again. Roadies and tour manager Frankie work frantically on the cord and plug. The band plows on. (Madonna, in fact, has told our Chris that equipment-problem-wise this is the worst tour they've ever had. I'm truly not surprised considering the way the instruments get treated nightly.)

During 'Dogma' I look over to check on Twiggy, and there, kneeling at his right side, is Steve, grinning. Twiggy drops his guitar pick, and Steve retrieves it and hands it back up--Twiggy stares down, open-mouthed and frozen, at tonight's doppelganger. It's quite a moment.

For 'Lunchbox' the Reverend treats us to another of his high-speed stage dives--he's passed back, crawls on stage and just lies there, back to the crowd, hair hanging straight down off the stage-edge, apparently gasping for breath. I can tell he's hurt, but it's not until afterwards that I find out someone punched him in the stomach while he was on top of the crowd. The band plays, Daisy looks worried, Frankie comes out for a quick check. Slowly the Rev gets to his feet, tangled in the mike cord and looking a bit dazed. He pulls the microphone off its stand (which goes flying) and rips through the rest of 'Lunchbox'. I can already tell we won't be hearing 'Misery Machine' or 'My Monkey' tonight.

And there was the mess he made with the light bulb during 'Sweet Dreams'. It broke real well--lots of sparks and flying glass. A good amount of blood, too.

At some point during this Madonna whacks his hand (the broken one, of course) a good lick on the keyboard. Cussing ensues, the keyboard takes wing, and he proceeds to kick the stand around. It promptly collapses, and is tossed into Ginger's drums at about the same time as the mike stand comes in like a laser-guided missile. Good thing Ginger IS fast, or he'd be wearing some of that heavy equipment. He completes the destruction of the drum kit on his own, and they're gone. (Twiggy sensibly avoids all the mayhem and ducks off behind his own amp, leaving by the back route.)

I'm desperately trying to find a cool place where I can scribble notes during Danzig, hopefully away from the maddening crowd. There isn't anywhere. It's hot and sticky and way too packed. I sit down in the back, at Eric's feet, and start writing. Danzig play. This is the first night I don't see Ginger once but then, where would he walk? It's packo. Remember, this is the first time Danzig's played Charlotte in six years. ...Little do I know the night's gonna get even weirder from this point.

After the show I start trying to find people; find EVB, but lose Eric and Claudia [Deb & Eric's little daughter, already a veteran of many gigs]. We hang and wait outside. Mark and his brother find us. Mark's in seventh heaven--he got to talk to the Reverend for ten minutes or so, on the bus. They tell us an interesting story: seems our own Honey Flash Ramirez had stolen onto the Mansons' bus and been found by the road crew. He was last seen running down the street with them and the cops in hot pursuit.

ANYway, I figured Steve would circle the block and either pop back up, go over and hide in the hotel, or maybe turn up later in KORN's hotel rooms... We wait. We look for Deb or Eric or Chris or Cathy - no one. We drift off toward the buses, and run right into Daisy. We compliment him on the show, he smiles (now I see why Manson always drew him with that big grin!), and EVB says something about how tomorrow we drive to Alabama. He looks at us, obviously trying to think of something, and finally asks, "What part of the state ARE we playing in?" "Birmingham," we reply, and he repeats it thoughtfully. Gee, now we're serving tour itineraries for two bands! (Danzig never know where they're headed either...) We turn and there's Madonna, you can't move without tripping over over of the band tonight, seems.

Then I spot Twiggy, so we head over to ask about the hand. Apparently the accident had happened the night BEFORE Norfolk. (And it was a freshly opened bottle of Jack Daniels, too, "I didn't even get to drink any of it," he laments.) He said he'd spent most of the day in Norfolk at the doctor's having needles stuck in him; guess he'd hoped to be able to play, but when it actually came down to it, no way. He drew on his other hand to show us where the cut and stitches were--thru the web of the thumb/ forefinger, six or seven stitches. We told him we'd been worried, and he smiled, and said he was doing fine with it now, as long as he didn't hit it on something.

Someone asks him what happened to Sara. He grins and sez "We set him on fire." We crack up and say "we were at that show!" and Twig beams, obviously glad to have independent confirmation.

As we're talking, we begin to collect the rest of the crew, except Steve, who no one's seen. It's now about 2:00/2:30 AM, we have a 7:00 wake-up call, and Steve knows it (he's been told several times). So we all figure we'll head off for food, and he'll be either on our doorstep or in the room when we get back. Well, he isn't. Instead the little red message light on our phone is blinking: we have one from the local correctional facility, and one from Steve's father in Detroit...

Yes, boys and girls: Trent Honey Flash Ramirez is in the pokey. His bail is $200, which we don't have; plus, it's now 4AM, and we have to get some sleep AND be back on the road by 7. EVB calls his dad. Fortunately he agrees to wire enough money to cover Steve's bail plus a bus ticket back to Maryland, where he can pick up his car (parked at our place). This means we don't have to take Chris's car, which is making some strange noises (wheel bearings, we say). So we leave Steve's stuff in Chris's car at his house--we can pick it up on the way back and mail it to him--and pack four people and their gear (which combined is less than Steve's luggage) into one small Japanese import. EVB likes to say that David Lynch directs all our road movies, but suddenly it seems Quentin Tarantino or the Coen Brothers have assumed the job...

Charlotte set list: Cake And Sodomy; Cyclops; Snake Eyes And Sissies; Dope Hat; Organ Grinder; Sweet Dreams; Dogma; Lunchbox

Tonight's fashion tips: Mr. Manson - same as last night, with the left eye socket done in white to match the ice-blue contact, no eyebrow on that side. The other eye/makeup normal - a bit of eyeliner. Twiggy - the pink dress again, and the messiest makeup job yet - I hunch he's having trouble putting it on with that hand. Eyebrows that almost meet over his nose, and go at a 45 degree angle up onto his temples. Daisy - the old Blondie shirt, the rhinestone collar, dark green pants - looked really sharp. Madonna - pretty much same as last night, only with orange-red tights that have artwork all over them. Ginger - Black t-shirt (ZIA), leprous looking blue/grey/moss/black tights. It was REALLY hot tonight, so the shirt lasted about 1 1/2 songs...

--coyote--