Well, of course I couldn't sleep much Tuesday night—that's always the way after a good show. But I had enough energy to make it through the relatively short drive to Indianapolis and rosamundeb's beautiful house although, sadly, her cats were ill and not present. After a brief rest we were on our way to the Music Mill. This was a peculiar huge, boxy glass building at the end of a strip mall. We went around toward the box office to check out the scene and found we could clearly hear the soundcheck from inside the lobby. The staff there didn't seem to mind our hanging around, so we stood there for a while and heard Asheville (Orange Peel), Working Undercover for the Man, Hocus Pocus, Fibber Island (sans fingerpicking, though), Flans acting like a dork...other stuff too probably, I forget.

We were again ridiculously early, but again we didn't care, and sat down on the step at the entrance (separate from the box office entrance) to wait, occasionally taking turns to go get magazines and food. rosamundeb, seeing that we were firmly installed, took the opportunity to escape and go shopping for a camera for a while. And we waited. At a certain point we started betting amongst ourselves what we thought the earliest time the next people in line might arrive. I forget what time people actually did come, but I'm pretty sure I lost the bet.

Later, while hobbitgrrl and I were heading over to the Chik-Fil-A for some nuggets, I heard my name being called and saw my friend Eric. I'd first met him back in Naperville a couple years ago and since had seen him at the Vic, in Columbus, and at the Taste last year. He'd proposed to his now-wife at that Vic show, but this time she had had to stay at home, having been told by her doctor that taking her eight-months-pregnant belly to a rock show, even at a non-smoking venue, was perhaps inadvisable. Luckily for him Eric had other friends coming to keep him company. :P

Finally they were letting us in. Important point: the very officious security guards announced loudly and repeatedly that anyone caught taking photographs during the show would be summarily ejected from the venue. But they didn't search my bag, so I sailed right in carrying all kinds of contraband. Oh, the hubris. Don't worry, the tragic downfall will ensue, but there will also be a deus ex machina to save me.

Then, of course, more waiting, although less than we expected: we had been told the show was to start at 8:30, but at 8:00 sharp Corn Mo came sauntering out onto the stage. And as exciting as it was to see Corn Mo, it was even more exciting that the show was starting so early. hobbitgrrl had mentioned that she wanted to hear Busey Boy, so when Corn Mo came out I was yelling "Busey Boy!" and he stopped and looked at me quizzically. "We would love to hear Busey Boy," I explained, and he smiled and said, "Then I will certainly play it. " Aww! Corn Mo's a sweetie.

As it turned out, we needn't even have had to request it; a couple songs in, the tour manager came out and called Corn Mo over to the wings, where we could see him speaking sharply to Corn Mo and Corn Mo looking confused and apologetic. He had apparently begun the show half an hour too early, and so we were treated to a full hour of him playing almost everything that he knew. And he was really on that night; I wish I had a recording of it. He kept saying he was nervous, and rambling on about all kinds of things, but his show was fantastic. There was a press photographer to our left and I could tell that she was completely won over; besides taking a million pictures, by the end of the set she was singing along to We Are the Champions. When he introduced Busey Boy he flashed a smile our way (thanks Corn Mo!), but the highlight, I think, was The Day Jason Klein Cried with an unexpected segue into Freebird and back before the last verse. Nicely done.

After that it was back to waiting. Guitar tech Andy came and went. The tour manager came out and was a jerk to us. And finally the lights went down and we were happy.

They started out this time with a separate Venue Songs set, which I much preferred to having them inserted into the middle of the show. Did I mention that I adore these songs? Charlottesville especially makes me want to scream with joy. At the end of the final one, Celebrate Brooklyn, Flans announced that they were going to take a short break and then while the rest of the band was continuing with the coda of the song, he actually started leaving the stage; and then he suddenly remembered he wasn't done yet and came running back, grabbing his mic on the fly to finish it off while Linnell laughed at him. A beautiful moment.

This show had, I think, my favorite setlist of the week. There were, of course, the venue songs (which we didn't get the following night in Detroit), and there were several other tunes we didn't hear anywhere else: XTC vs Adam Ant, Wicked Little Critta (played, Flans said, in honor of the ending of the NHL lockout), Cyclops Rock and Turn Around. And everybody looked so happy, and the room was adequately air conditioned...it was a fine show all around.

The tandem of XTC vs Adam Ant and Snail Shell was simply...stunning. I think they pulled the first one out of the vault just to give Dan an excuse to make his Les Paul scream. Not that I mind that of course.

So, thoughout all this I had been surreptitiously taking pictures; I only started taking them during the main set, not wanting to be thrown out too early should I be caught, not that I ever imagined that the no cameras policy would actually be enforced—it hasn't been at any other show I've been to. But during She's an Angel I felt a tap on my shoulder and there was a security guard asking me to follow him. Oops. This was rather alarming. He took me out to the lobby along with the equally unlucky rosamundeb and proceeded to shout at us. I don't recall exactly what I said, I'm sure I groveled, but all I remember is listening to She's an Angel continuing inside and wondering what was going to happen to my, uh, other forbidden stuff that was still in there.

However the upshot was that the man apparently just wanted to yell at us for a while, and so when rosamundeb agreed to take the cameras back to the car, I was allowed back in. It hadn't taken very long—She's an Angel was still going on—and so I wriggled back into my original spot, much relieved that I was at least not going to miss the rest of the show (and that security hadn't forced me to delete the few pictures I had managed to get before being caught). When unsupervised saw I was back, she told me that while I was gone Dan had gone offstage (twice) to tell Andy to tell them to let me back in. Oh man! That is just too nice. So when the song was over I got Dan's attention and said "thank you!" and he kinda grinned and waved it off like, "don't worry about it." Awww! And you know, I don't even know what more I can say about that; "thank you" isn't half—isn't one-hundredth enough. I'll leave it at that. (For now.)

That excitement over, it was time to go on to Stalk of Wheat, which Flans introduced this way:
JF: We've got a special treat for you now, we're playing on alternative instruments. (shaking his maracas) I carved these myself while I was in Mexico at a trade fair. Dan Miller is playing his own invention. It's called the three-peat. (Dan flexes the flexatone.) Now, I know what some of you are thinking: that's not music. We have organized a twenty-five cent refund.
JL: Actually I think it's a rebate. You don't get it right away.

And then before Drink! he introduced their new sound guy Dean and told us this story:
JF: Our regular sound man is off on a long, long summer tour and just before he left he did this oldies show in New York City and he said that the weird thing about these oldies acts besides everyone saying, "And the streetlight was our spotlight" more than once within one show, they introduce every song by saying, "And it goes something...like this." And when you're doing show after show and you hear a story like that, it just kind of fills the space in your mind where the introduction to the song should be. (long, confused pause)
audience: "And it goes something..."
JF: No no no! (introduces Drink!)

And then afterwards there was more amusement as Flans and Linnell realized they had gotten their cables tangled together and engaged in a complicated dance around the stage to try to get them straightened out. When they only managed to twist them further, Andy came out to fix them up, finally resorting to unplugging Flans's guitar to clean up the mess.
JL: Andy...the one guy who knows how to untangle two cables. He did a topology course.

The confetti cannons were set up rather low on the stage, and before the show one of the crew had come out to warn a tall guy standing near them to watch out for when they went off, but he was unable to tell him during which song this might happen. The usual suspects—Doctor Worm, Stalk of Wheat, Bed Bed Bed, even Fingertips—had all passed with no confetti, and then after Robot Parade hobbitgrrl showed me some confetti and said they'd gone off. Well, there had already been confetti on the stage before the show even started, so I accused her repeatedly of lying to me and we actually argued about this for several minutes before I finally realized she was telling the truth. Uh, sorry, hobbitgrrl! I really didn't notice they had gone off; the previous night all the confetti had fallen back onto the stage, but tonight it all fell way behind me and I didn't see it at all. Heh.

Violin, with its wave, came back in the second encore, but I realized that after not having done it for a while I didn't mind it so much, although I wouldn't want to do it every night. Hocus Pocus is a fantastic closer; everybody seems to be having so much fun with it. There's a point during the song where Corn Mo gets down on one knee and bends his head with his hair falling down all around hiding his face as he waits for his moment; tonight, when Corn Mo knelt down, Flans and Dan exchanged a glance and then both of them started sneaking along the stage until they were right in his face when he looked up. The whole thing is beautiful craziness.

When the show ended Andy came out and dropped three copies of the setlist directly in front of us. I suspected that had something to do with Dan's intervention earlier in the evening, but I guess I'll never know for sure about that. We stood around for a moment and Danny came out. I got him to sign my setlist and he remarked upon the sequined "A" wristband I was wearing, modeled on the ones Marty often wears. He flagged down Marty to show it to him, and Marty nodded and said he'd seen it before (which he had, in Madison), and hobbitgrrl and I started explaining that she had forgotten to bring hers as well, and the next thing I knew Danny was saying "Oh, so you're both gay" and I wasn't sure whether he meant both hobbitgrrl and I, or both Marty and I were gay; all I knew was that one of the both was certainly me.

At that point I noticed that Dan had made his usual appearance, so I had to go over and thank him again. I asked him what he'd said to the guy when he left the stage, and he explained that he'd told him that they had to let me back in because "she's allowed to do anything she wants." Oh, for goodness sake, I didn't need to hear that. I'm full enough of myself already as it is. But I asked him for a hug, which he graciously gave me. He also asked me what I'd been doing to get thrown out, and when I told him I was taking pictures he said "That's it?" in a surprised tone that made me wonder what other more illicit thing he imagined I might have been doing. And then when we presented our setlists for signing he asked, "Am I signing another one? What do you do with these things?"

Well, that was a fair question, and I answered perfectly sincerely, "We cherish them forever," although I couldn't quite keep a straight face when I said it. Nor did I mention that I lovingly place them into my online shrine to TMBG. I did ask him if he's growing a beard—that stubble had been bothering me. He admitted he was but when I asked him how long he'd been working on it he retreated into sarcasm and told me "since I was 15." Oops. I guess I got a little too personal there. I backed off from that subject. And he told us that the next time we do this following-the-Dead thing we should let him know and he'd comp us for a show. You know, he'd told me & unsupervised that before, but I was too shy to actually do it...I'm gonna be sure to cash in this time though.

And that was about it. We looked around for Flans and even strolled over by the bus to see if we could catch him, but uncharacteristically he made very few appearances on this tour—in fact the only time we saw him out with the people was the first night. I didn't mind that much, though; my night had been exciting enough already. And there was still more to come.

And of course the pictures (what I could get before the fiasco) are here, and some scans.

* foreword
* St Louis
> Indy
* Detroit
* Cleveland – Odeon
* Cleveland – KidsFest
* Lebowski Fest