The coolest thing about driving into Detroit wasn’t the burning Ford Explorer across from The Majestic. It was the air conditioner in my dressing room that served as an oasis to the extreme heat that the Majesticians love at their venue. It was really hot. So hot you could fry an egg mid-air due to the constant rising of heat which could also give a good jolt to a Frontier jet, the one that rivaled hydralic cars so well that they turned around and went back to the airport. (“We don’t know why we just have to go back.” Later, found it was a maintenance problem. Hi Ho.) Magically, the heat didn’t deplete the energy of the audience. They had a good time. And I didn’t need to take off my wonderful sparklejacket, Sparklecoats.
Thank goodness the venue didn’t read my rider. I put Pabst on there so I don’t rock the boat so to speak and they brought me Sierra Nevadas. I didn’t really get to drink any of my free beer so I gave it all to the Budget Rent-a-car guy who assured me he liked beer.