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Thursday, March 17, 2005

Day One In Austin: Chuck Klosterman (or at least Chuck Klosterman's cleverly disguised doppleganger) Is Stalking Us
The first real, non-airport Texan we met was a cab driver. He'd installed a TV (with a DVD player) in between the front seats. He was watching Jerry Springer.

So we missed a flight. Lost some luggage. And barely escaped the sort of hotel that normally requires either a hooker or a heroin addiction. Then we took a nap.

Eventually we woke up and went outside. Saw Billy Idol limping through a hotel lobby. Had dinner with Martha Wainwright at the sort of place that would make our vegetarian friends throw up in their mouth. And then it was off to Smoosh. Or Smush. Or something. They're not yet in high school. Everyone in attendance kept exchanging those smiles normally reserved for parents at awkard school assemblies where overly precocious kids say overly precocious things they aren't quite precocious enough to understand.

Then we saw The Thermals. They are so not remarkable and so remarkable all at the same time. Somebody could make lots of money off them if they really wanted to.

Anyway. At the Sub Pop showcase we saw Chuck Klosterman (or at least Chuck Klosterman's cleverly disguised doppelganger). He was in line for the portapotty. And thinking about Saved By The Bell.

The Album Leaf were on next. We took a nap. Woke up just in time for Sleater-Kinney.

Klosterman (or at least Klosterman's cleverly disguised doppelganger) was still there. Watching intently. And thinking about Saved By The Bell.

Finished up our night standing beside a woman in a pink bunny costume.

Epilogue: Our body having finally processed the two pounds of meat ingested in front of Miss Wainwright, we went to get some pizza. At the counter, Klosterman (or at least Klosterman's cleverly disguised doppelganger) showed up. Bought a slice of pepperoni. Thought about Saved By The Bell.

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