.. We rolled into Atlanta late on Sunday night.  We were staying at Jerry's parent's house a welcome respite from the dreariness and monotony of hotel rooms.  At the band's request, Mrs. Fuchs had prepared us a couple of different treats, one was a brownie type thing with oats on top, the other was a toffee type concoction with the texture of peanut butter crisp.  These would haunt us for many days hence.  We would make deals with ourselves, "i'll only have one of each, then I'll exercise when I get to Austin," or "the brownies are actually quite healthy, they have oats on them," and "i'll begin a strict diet and exercise regimen when I get home."  At one point Nancy suggested just throwing them away, since we were complaing about the tempation of having these two bags of delights along for long drives, but everyone shouted her down.  Instead, we enlisted each other to help:  "DJ, if you see me eat one of these before 5pm, punch me in arm as hard as you can.  If you see me eat one before noon, strike a blow to my cranium," etc.

Since we had the first part of the day off on Monday, before the show, we ventured out to the movies.  We decided on the new Star Trek.  Jerry and I sat closer to the back, DJ in the front, mumbling something abut "i'm not sitting with two dudes..."  As the movie progressed, Jerry and I kept hearing a kid sitting directly behind, probably in his early 20's, probably still living at home.  He would cry out during tense moments, stuff like "oh no, don't take that from him Kirk!," or, best of all, when the elder Spock first appears, a reverent and breathless "SPOCK!"  I turned around at one point and checked him out, he was about 5'9", 220lbs, stuffing his face with an assortment of candies and soda.  At one point, during a very quiet scene, he farted.  Jerry and I started laughing, and then in an attempt to cover up the laughter, shaking uncontrollably, tears streaming down our faces.  When we were leaving the theater, we walked out behind him, and the back of this dudes T shirt said "while you were reading this I farted."  It was just too much.  It made us all grateful that we have fruitful and succesful careers in discopunk, and that moving back home with our parents is at least a few years away.

That day at soundcheck, the members of the Field presented us with a present.  It was a bottle of Drakkar Noir.  They called it 'Cool Water.'  They were quite serious in their presentation.  In their stilted English, they said "guys, this is the scent of the lady killer in Sweden.  It is very expensive with the money, so we did bought you a small bottle.  We hope you do not take offense at the size, but it is not the size of the bottle, it is the smell of the Cool Water that is important."

Nancy and Jerry could barely contain their repugnance.  When they walked away she said "that shit is for pimps and swarthy Middle Easterners."  I come from the Northeast, so I guess I didn't have such an aversion.  DJ comes from New Jersey, so he too was grateful.  It became a ritual, a small dose of Drakkar before we play.  The Field dudes gave it to us with a bit of advice, "it wears off quick, so you must use a big amounts.  When you come to Sweden be careful, it is like an aprhodoosiac, the girls will want you to pee on them."

We played the show and went to Austin.