JIZZY PEARL TOUR DIARY
Jizzy Pearl is currently travelling all over the country on the Rock Never Stops tour, fronting Ratt as they tour with Quiet Riot, Firehouse, and headliners Cinderella. Whenver he feels compelled to do so, Jizzy will be sending us updates from the road.
The Greek Theatre, Los Angeles
You never realize how many ‘friends’ you have until you play a nice place in L.A. and everyone wants to get in free. I never knew I was this popular. Old girlfriends, bandmates from the 80’s, former musicians and former rivals /turned web designers all calling my ass the day before the show wanting a laminate pass and a free beer. I’ve never felt so loved. It’s easier to win Wonka’s Golden Ticket than it is to get a free pass to an L.A. show. Family first, then the business people, lawyers, agents, managers, guitar builders, etc. —favors that must be repaid in kind. I could only get my brother and his wife in this time but he’s earned his laminate, I think. Sometime roadie/ sometime heckler, he was there from the beginning, from the backyard kegger parties of the late 70’s to the empty clubs of the 80’s to the Sunset Strip and beyond. The Greek theatre was a good show and it makes you feel good to play such a classy place, this natural amphitheater nestled high in the Griffith Park hills. The post-show had all the usual L.A. locals, Happenin’ Harry, Joe Sutton from Club Vodka, other guys I remembered from other bands back in the day, older now, bigger around the middle, their band name and their band glory faded into the cold gray stucco. Some have moved on to bigger things, their own publishing companies, their own studios, making twenty times the $$ they made when they were rockers but I did catch a whiff of envy from them when they saw that big stage. If they could grab a guitar they would, they would have jumped on that stage and rocked again, if only for one night. Well I could dig that.
June 22nd— I’m here at the first of many Indian casino gigs, Lemore, CA. I’ve been here for hours and I haven’t seen any Indians…where are all the Indians? Probably in the vault, counting all their money. These casinos are extremely successful and I think it’s a good thing, it’s the least we can give back for the 400 years of grief, theft, and murder we visited upon them. I went into the casino and took a stroll, it was full of the usual blue-haired old ladies, the elderly and the lost, clutching a free cocktail in one hand and furiously pushing the credit button in the other. Hypnotized. Obsessed. They smoke those queer cigarettes where the ash never seems to fall, it just hangs there, three inches of it, dangling…I’m not even noticed as I walk by, the slot machine Has them, the glazed look in their eyes…And again, I don’t see a single Indian. A very small sign is posted on the way out, it reads “If you have a gambling problem”…and an 800 number. How ironic. Well, too late.
The Prodigal Son returns. The Joint at the Hard Rock. It is always a pleasure to play there. Pink’ees is no more, other clubs have fallen by the wayside so it’s now the Joint or the House of Blues if you wanna play Vegas right. I had recently moved back to L.A., some of you might remember I lived in Vegas for a year with Brent Muscat. I wanted to see if the grass was greener…I moved there to Vegas to be with a girl and that didn’t work out so the gist of that relationship comes out on my new CD with the unsubtle title VEGAS MUST DIE! Due out on July 19th on Shrapnel records. A collection of angst and emotion I wrote in three weeks between my all-night wine benders at the Tailspin, the watering hole of choice. Doug is the owner and a good guy, he was always willing to top off my glass when I spilled…or fell. Or was dragged out. Anyway the Vegas gig was great, I saw many of my friends in the audience and I was looking forward to going across the street to the new Rainbow bar and grill.
Steven Adler showed up at the gig but I had him barred from going backstage. This last week he phoned a friend accusing me of sleeping with his wife. He had gone on her computer, checked the Internet history and found out she was spending a lot of time lurking on my jizzypearl.com site. So it only made sense in Adler’s Addled mind that I must be fucking her, in fact, he thinks I left the band for that reason. Steven “Popcorn” Adler…there isn’t much popcorn left these days, just a lot of empty husks. “I’m going to stab him in the eye with a soldering iron,” he kept repeating, “I’m going to stab him in the eye with a soldering iron…” —Steven, you’ve got bigger problems to deal with than thinking I’m sleeping with your wife…wherever she is. Everyone gave Kevin Dubrow a hard time when he spoke up about his experiences on the so-called “bad boys” tour but I’ve never known Kevin to be a liar and if you were not on the bus or in the band you don’t know shit, really. I met their new singer Sheldon and he was a nice guy, very respectful. He reminded me of me when I was that age, only when I was 27 I was breaking beer bottles over my head and running red lights at 80 miles per hour. Anyway, enough about that…
As I said I planned on going to the new Rainbow across the street from the Hard Rock after the show. My ex-girlfriend was going there, I was going to give her a copy of my new record for old time’s sake. I met a girl at the Joint and her and I both took a walk across the street and this is where it got interesting. My ex’s ex boyfriend was at the Rainbow, they being recently split, and every time I tried to talk to my ex he would come over and say “ Can I talk to you for a minute?” She would have to go off with him and get harangued about ME. In a remarkable coincidence the girl that I had brought over from the Joint was this guy’s EX GIRLFRIEND too so that made things stickier still– what a fucking weird world, the four of us caught in some love…rectangle? The Rainbow was cool, the two owners showed me around, fed me drinks and took many photos. I took my drink out to the patio area and things got even more surreal. There at every table and I mean EVERY table were all the one night stands I had slept with during my year in Vegas, all of them blissfully unaware of each other’s existence. It looked like a demented game of Battleship out there, seat G-1– HIT!, seat H-7– HIT!!, over and over. I was Scrooge looking at all the ghosts of my Pussy Past. I had been a busy boy indeed, after my break-up I had gone on some kind of Dionysian bender, fueled by the liberal drinking laws and a bigger thirst for revenge. I had even tried to corrupt two sisters, taking them home and trying to convince them that they were really bisexual lesbians…all to no avail. I went from table to table like a Pachinko ball, eager to please, drunk as a skunk. They were all nice girls and NOT sluts so I only have my own promisciouty to blame. Vegas is a dangerous place in more ways than one and if I ever go back there to live I’m going to have a trophy wife and a lock on the liquor cabinet…in that order.
Those were the high points. Last night was Santa Clara and tonight is Reno, both outdoor deals. Then a day off and another batch next week for 10 or so more weeks…the fans have been great, even the ones that don’t know I’m not Stephen Pearcy…I thank them kindly and direct them to that ‘other’ tour.