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outsdrJune 24th, 2018
(Standard disclaimer: My memory had already began to fail by the next morning, so I'll very likely leave out events and forget names. My apologies.)
I loaded my vehicle as quietly as possible, which was not very quiet at all. Raising the garage door shook the entire house on its own. After spending the week not packing, I'd finally thrown together my suitcase the night before, and now I was leaving for the airport to catch my flight to Hollywood.
I felt remarkably matter-of-fact about the entire trip so far- the excitement had yet to set in. Maybe once I'd arrived, I'd begin to feel it. For now, as always when I fly, I was simply dreading the travel process, especially the airport.
Matters weren't helped by my injured foot. Just a few days before, I'd added an additional mid-day walk to my exercise regime, joining my roommate at work for two laps around the building grounds. Unfortunately, the first first day I did so, I wore my regular work boots. The insoles end right at the ball of my foot, and while this is sufficiently adequate for wandering around in the office building, it proved to be extremely damaging during the walk.
What I thought was simply a small blister developing during the two mile walk actually turned out to be the insole cutting into the bottom of my foot, and stripping a two-inch diameter patch of skin and callous from the ball of my foot, pushing it painfully forward and leaving a tender area of new-born skin behind, right where I put my weight while walking.
And I am not a light weight.
I considered taking a cane with me to help me walk, but I didn't want to have another thing to carry around with me. I'd come to regret this later, to an extent.
I checked my bag, made my way through security, and hobbled to my gate. There were only two direct flights between Albuquerque and LA daily; one very early, the other very late. I chose to arrive early and leave late to maximize the time I had in Hollywood.
The gate attendant was kind enough to allow me early boarding on the plane, due to my foot. As luck would have it, the seat beside me was empty for the flight, which is always a bonus when traveling, as well as foreshadowing of the weekend to come.
The two hour flight passed uneventfully. I listened to music and watched a few videos on my phone. While the plane allegedly had in-flight, free wifi for messaging, I was unable to get it to work, although I did get a free hour of regular wifi as a t-mobile subscriber, which was nice, although the novelty wore off after about 10 minutes.
After collecting my bags at LAX, I summoned a LYFT to take me to the Bonaventure, which oddly enough didn't supply a shuttle. I sat in the front seat and Dennis and I talked all the way to the hotel, roughly a 45 minute drive. We discussed a number of things going on in my personal life along the way, surprisingly so, as I normally don't open up to strangers, even vaguely.
Dennis dropped me off at the doors to the Bonaventure, and an honest-to-goodness bellhop helped unload my bags, then offered to help me to the front desk. I declined, then spent 10 minutes trying to find my way!
I'd never seen a hotel like this one before - the four towers rising high, with the central lobby exposed for five floors. I easily saw how the bar in the middle would become a gathering area for everyone staying at the hotel. I managed to find my way to the escalator down to the first floor and the check-in desk, where the clerk politely told me I didn't have a reservation.
uh-oh.
I'd arranged with Brady to arrive earlier and stay later than the days in the package, and everything had been worked out on the phone the week before. Neither the desk nor I could reach Brady on the phone, but they kindly worked out a room I could check into while waiting for everything to be straightened out, and were even able to accommodate me in the same tower as Brady's room, as I expected to be helping him out as much as I could, albeit on a lower floor.
I settled in and rested my foot. The room was smaller than I expected, and oddly wedge-shaped due to the roundness of the tower; I felt like I was in a winning piece in Trivial Pursuit. I soon received a text from Brady, inviting me up to his room. I slowly limped my way through the hallways, regretting once more leaving the cane in Albuquerque.
I found the door marked with the room number Brady had given me, but the double doors looked like the entrance to a store room. I made my way around the rooms, but there was no other doors that these could be mistaken for. I pushed the button for the doorbell, but heard nothing. I knocked, and Brady opened the door.
The suite was practically palatial. The double doors opened into a sitting area; to the right was a dining area and kitchenette, with a living room area to the left. As Brady gave me a quick tour, I found out that there was living and office areas up the circular staircase.
The floor to ceiling windows made me uncomfortable, and I tried not to get to close while Brady and I caught up. As usual, he was in a frantic state of activity, taking care of last minute arrangements and complications, including getting my room reservations straightened out. Not that I was concerned.
Brady made and took many phone calls, and I got to say hi to Vahe when he called- I was looking forward to seeing him once more as well.
Brady needed to run errands, including making his way to LAX to pick up Tobi, Claudia, Karin and Bernhard from the airport when they arrived. He put me to work assembling badges for attendants, as well as putting together the envelopes that the front desk would hand out to everyone when they checked in, then he headed out to do the things he needed to do in person.
I sent Tobi a message to let him know I was looking forward to seeing him when he arrived. Surprisingly, he replied! He had actual working wifi on his flight, the lucky guy, and we chatted back and forth while I folded itineraries and stuffed envelopes. I told him to say hi to Claudia, and to warn Bernhard to be prepared to be asked a thousand times when the next Atlantic Popes album would be finished, with 999 of those questions coming from only me.
Brady returned just as I finished with what I had, and he and I went through and double checked envelopes and put the finishing touches on them, then went downstairs to the lobby. He had to leave now for LAX, but we spotted Christian, Alphaville's manager, in the lobby, and said hello. Christian gave me a huge, German bear hug- it was fantastic to see him again! I was beginning to really feel just how much I'd missed all my friends from the band after spending so much time with them during their tour last summer.
Christian and I caught up a bit, then he wandered off to do band things, and I wandered off to the bar for a drink.
I got my whiskey sour and took a seat. And then I met Amber Lott.
I don't remember how we met; she was just there, suddenly, and buying me a drink. Within five minutes, I'd known her forever. We sat and talked for hours, or maybe minutes, and at some point I spotted David Goodes on one of the balconies. We waved, and he came down and joined us, and we hung out and joked and everything was fantastic. Birds flew around the bar, landing on the floor and pecking up crumbs.
The happier I get, the fuzzier my memory becomes, as though I enter an aura of pure feeling and emotion that can no longer be put into concrete images inside my brain.
Or it could be the whiskey sours. Regardless, I don't remember when Amber and David wandered off, or exactly when Brady arrived from the airport with Tobi, Claudia, Karin, and Bernhard.
I hadn't seen Tobi since Salt Lake city decades before, and Claudia I'd never met at all. But my greatest anticipation was meeting Bernhard Lloyd, the man whose music made such an impact on my life. We'd talked online a few times through email in the early 21st century, but I'd never expected to meet him, as much as I had always wanted to- and now, he was here.
And incredibly tall.
Walking up to him I intended to be incredibly cool, remarkably collected, and absolutely charming. Within two sentences, I was gushing and no longer making sense and failing miserably and making an incredibly bad first impression and I could not get my mouth to stop talking and I think I may have forgotten to let go of his hand and Bernhard just stared at me, stone faced, until I stammered to a stop and hid behind Brady, completely star struck.
As expected, Claudia was gracious and beautiful, and with Tobi, it felt like no time had passed.
Again, time blurs until the evening, when Brady and I went to the hotel brewery restaurant for dinner. There was Tobi, and Christian, and Dave, and Ingo, and Kristoff, and Carsten, and Alex, and Jakob, and Marian Gold himself rising out of his seat and coming towards me with his arms wide. After my second giant German bear hug of the day, he was introducing me to his wife, Anna. It felt incredible to be together with everyone again!
More tables were pulled into place so that everyone had spots to sit. Bernhard arrived, and I tried to avoid eye contact, but to my horror, we ended up sitting across the table directly from each other. Amber was there as well, but in no position to rescue me. My salvation arrived from New Zealand, as by pure chance two fans who had flown in for the show and also were having dinner at the bar were invited to join us, and between the three of us, we managed to keep conversation flowing with Bernhard into the evening. Tim excitedly talked to him about various pieces of studio equipment, I got to tell him of one of my most clear memories of listening to Afternoons in Utopia while lying in my bed with a speaker on each side, hearing the various layers of melody and sinking through each just to hear something more underneath. He told us of his dissatisfaction with so much of the music they created at that time, and how Ricky Echolette stopped him from erasing the entire AiU album from the soundboard in anger. Jakob ordered a drink called a French Mule that arrived in a small copper pot. Bernhard stepped out to smoke, then told us how he'd finally finished mixing Romeos, only for Marian to want to add more vocals, and once more, he nearly erased everything!
So much was discussed, so much Alphaville history was learned. If only I could remember every word.
Ricky from the stage crew was celebrating his birthday as well, so spirits were extra high. The check was brought to Marian, and I heard him laugh as he looked at. "Look!" he joked, "The total is 666!"
As much as I didn't want the evening to end, eventually everyone began to tire, and we called it a night. I returned to my room, humming "Ice", feeling great and looking forward to the next day when more fans would arrive, and could share in the experience.
(Standard disclaimer: My memory had already began to fail by the next morning, so I'll very likely leave out events and forget names. My apologies.)
I loaded my vehicle as quietly as possible, which was not very quiet at all. Raising the garage door shook the entire house on its own. After spending the week not packing, I'd finally thrown together my suitcase the night before, and now I was leaving for the airport to catch my flight to Hollywood.
I felt remarkably matter-of-fact about the entire trip so far- the excitement had yet to set in. Maybe once I'd arrived, I'd begin to feel it. For now, as always when I fly, I was simply dreading the travel process, especially the airport.
Matters weren't helped by my injured foot. Just a few days before, I'd added an additional mid-day walk to my exercise regime, joining my roommate at work for two laps around the building grounds. Unfortunately, the first first day I did so, I wore my regular work boots. The insoles end right at the ball of my foot, and while this is sufficiently adequate for wandering around in the office building, it proved to be extremely damaging during the walk.
What I thought was simply a small blister developing during the two mile walk actually turned out to be the insole cutting into the bottom of my foot, and stripping a two-inch diameter patch of skin and callous from the ball of my foot, pushing it painfully forward and leaving a tender area of new-born skin behind, right where I put my weight while walking.
And I am not a light weight.
I considered taking a cane with me to help me walk, but I didn't want to have another thing to carry around with me. I'd come to regret this later, to an extent.
I checked my bag, made my way through security, and hobbled to my gate. There were only two direct flights between Albuquerque and LA daily; one very early, the other very late. I chose to arrive early and leave late to maximize the time I had in Hollywood.
The gate attendant was kind enough to allow me early boarding on the plane, due to my foot. As luck would have it, the seat beside me was empty for the flight, which is always a bonus when traveling, as well as foreshadowing of the weekend to come.
The two hour flight passed uneventfully. I listened to music and watched a few videos on my phone. While the plane allegedly had in-flight, free wifi for messaging, I was unable to get it to work, although I did get a free hour of regular wifi as a t-mobile subscriber, which was nice, although the novelty wore off after about 10 minutes.
After collecting my bags at LAX, I summoned a LYFT to take me to the Bonaventure, which oddly enough didn't supply a shuttle. I sat in the front seat and Dennis and I talked all the way to the hotel, roughly a 45 minute drive. We discussed a number of things going on in my personal life along the way, surprisingly so, as I normally don't open up to strangers, even vaguely.
Dennis dropped me off at the doors to the Bonaventure, and an honest-to-goodness bellhop helped unload my bags, then offered to help me to the front desk. I declined, then spent 10 minutes trying to find my way!
I'd never seen a hotel like this one before - the four towers rising high, with the central lobby exposed for five floors. I easily saw how the bar in the middle would become a gathering area for everyone staying at the hotel. I managed to find my way to the escalator down to the first floor and the check-in desk, where the clerk politely told me I didn't have a reservation.
uh-oh.
I'd arranged with Brady to arrive earlier and stay later than the days in the package, and everything had been worked out on the phone the week before. Neither the desk nor I could reach Brady on the phone, but they kindly worked out a room I could check into while waiting for everything to be straightened out, and were even able to accommodate me in the same tower as Brady's room, as I expected to be helping him out as much as I could, albeit on a lower floor.
I settled in and rested my foot. The room was smaller than I expected, and oddly wedge-shaped due to the roundness of the tower; I felt like I was in a winning piece in Trivial Pursuit. I soon received a text from Brady, inviting me up to his room. I slowly limped my way through the hallways, regretting once more leaving the cane in Albuquerque.
I found the door marked with the room number Brady had given me, but the double doors looked like the entrance to a store room. I made my way around the rooms, but there was no other doors that these could be mistaken for. I pushed the button for the doorbell, but heard nothing. I knocked, and Brady opened the door.
The suite was practically palatial. The double doors opened into a sitting area; to the right was a dining area and kitchenette, with a living room area to the left. As Brady gave me a quick tour, I found out that there was living and office areas up the circular staircase.
The floor to ceiling windows made me uncomfortable, and I tried not to get to close while Brady and I caught up. As usual, he was in a frantic state of activity, taking care of last minute arrangements and complications, including getting my room reservations straightened out. Not that I was concerned.
Brady made and took many phone calls, and I got to say hi to Vahe when he called- I was looking forward to seeing him once more as well.
Brady needed to run errands, including making his way to LAX to pick up Tobi, Claudia, Karin and Bernhard from the airport when they arrived. He put me to work assembling badges for attendants, as well as putting together the envelopes that the front desk would hand out to everyone when they checked in, then he headed out to do the things he needed to do in person.
I sent Tobi a message to let him know I was looking forward to seeing him when he arrived. Surprisingly, he replied! He had actual working wifi on his flight, the lucky guy, and we chatted back and forth while I folded itineraries and stuffed envelopes. I told him to say hi to Claudia, and to warn Bernhard to be prepared to be asked a thousand times when the next Atlantic Popes album would be finished, with 999 of those questions coming from only me.
Brady returned just as I finished with what I had, and he and I went through and double checked envelopes and put the finishing touches on them, then went downstairs to the lobby. He had to leave now for LAX, but we spotted Christian, Alphaville's manager, in the lobby, and said hello. Christian gave me a huge, German bear hug- it was fantastic to see him again! I was beginning to really feel just how much I'd missed all my friends from the band after spending so much time with them during their tour last summer.
Christian and I caught up a bit, then he wandered off to do band things, and I wandered off to the bar for a drink.
I got my whiskey sour and took a seat. And then I met Amber Lott.
I don't remember how we met; she was just there, suddenly, and buying me a drink. Within five minutes, I'd known her forever. We sat and talked for hours, or maybe minutes, and at some point I spotted David Goodes on one of the balconies. We waved, and he came down and joined us, and we hung out and joked and everything was fantastic. Birds flew around the bar, landing on the floor and pecking up crumbs.
The happier I get, the fuzzier my memory becomes, as though I enter an aura of pure feeling and emotion that can no longer be put into concrete images inside my brain.
Or it could be the whiskey sours. Regardless, I don't remember when Amber and David wandered off, or exactly when Brady arrived from the airport with Tobi, Claudia, Karin, and Bernhard.
I hadn't seen Tobi since Salt Lake city decades before, and Claudia I'd never met at all. But my greatest anticipation was meeting Bernhard Lloyd, the man whose music made such an impact on my life. We'd talked online a few times through email in the early 21st century, but I'd never expected to meet him, as much as I had always wanted to- and now, he was here.
And incredibly tall.
Walking up to him I intended to be incredibly cool, remarkably collected, and absolutely charming. Within two sentences, I was gushing and no longer making sense and failing miserably and making an incredibly bad first impression and I could not get my mouth to stop talking and I think I may have forgotten to let go of his hand and Bernhard just stared at me, stone faced, until I stammered to a stop and hid behind Brady, completely star struck.
As expected, Claudia was gracious and beautiful, and with Tobi, it felt like no time had passed.
Again, time blurs until the evening, when Brady and I went to the hotel brewery restaurant for dinner. There was Tobi, and Christian, and Dave, and Ingo, and Kristoff, and Carsten, and Alex, and Jakob, and Marian Gold himself rising out of his seat and coming towards me with his arms wide. After my second giant German bear hug of the day, he was introducing me to his wife, Anna. It felt incredible to be together with everyone again!
More tables were pulled into place so that everyone had spots to sit. Bernhard arrived, and I tried to avoid eye contact, but to my horror, we ended up sitting across the table directly from each other. Amber was there as well, but in no position to rescue me. My salvation arrived from New Zealand, as by pure chance two fans who had flown in for the show and also were having dinner at the bar were invited to join us, and between the three of us, we managed to keep conversation flowing with Bernhard into the evening. Tim excitedly talked to him about various pieces of studio equipment, I got to tell him of one of my most clear memories of listening to Afternoons in Utopia while lying in my bed with a speaker on each side, hearing the various layers of melody and sinking through each just to hear something more underneath. He told us of his dissatisfaction with so much of the music they created at that time, and how Ricky Echolette stopped him from erasing the entire AiU album from the soundboard in anger. Jakob ordered a drink called a French Mule that arrived in a small copper pot. Bernhard stepped out to smoke, then told us how he'd finally finished mixing Romeos, only for Marian to want to add more vocals, and once more, he nearly erased everything!
So much was discussed, so much Alphaville history was learned. If only I could remember every word.
Ricky from the stage crew was celebrating his birthday as well, so spirits were extra high. The check was brought to Marian, and I heard him laugh as he looked at. "Look!" he joked, "The total is 666!"
As much as I didn't want the evening to end, eventually everyone began to tire, and we called it a night. I returned to my room, humming "Ice", feeling great and looking forward to the next day when more fans would arrive, and could share in the experience.
