Lost Memories, Shower Vision...

Sad news for Dan. While I was writing my last blog, I had already lost my passport. I didn't know it then. I didn't figure it out until I got to the hotel in Kansas City, when the front desk fellow asked for ID.

The last place I remember having it was at the TSA checkpoint in Chicago O'Hare. I showed it to the guy and then put it in the outside pocket of my sports jacket, put my sports jacket into the X-ray machine, and that was that. Maybe the X-ray machine disintegrated my passport.

More than likely, it fell out when I grabbed my jacket and walked to the lounge. I didn't put it on, I just slung it over my arm, so it could have fallen out anywhere from the checkpoint to the lounge. Oh well.

I'm not so sore about loosing my passport, it's more the loss of irreplaceable stamps and visas I had in it. That passport took me everywhere with Shakira. Russia, Croatia, Romania, Turkey, and the best of all, Nigeria.

Thursday night and Friday morning, I called all the relative agencies to see if anyone turned in my passport. American Airlines, Chicago Police, U.S. Customs. All of them report no passport turned in. The TSA lost and found office is closed until tomorrow, Monday, so I'll try them again.

I'll keep hoping. But I'm not holding my breath.

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The only other really interesting news as of late is I was observed showering yesterday at our show in Colorado Springs.

When on tour, you have to shower at the venues. More often than not, you shower at the end of the night in one of the dressing rooms after the band vacates. I usually finish work before most of my compatriots, so the only shower that's usually open is our opening act guy, Mike Relm.

As another "tip of the hat" to O.C.D., I have a routine that I perform every night for a shower. I won't go into great detail, but I lay out all the things I need, then lock myself in a toilet stall and do a #2, then take a shower.

This particular evening, Mike Relm had a team size dressing room with your standard crew shower. No private stalls, just a bunch of shower heads. So I laid out my clothes, set up my soap and shampoo, strip downed to my underwear and locked myself in the stall for my late evening "constitutional". No sooner had I sat then I heard the door open to the locker room, and a couple of people walk in. I peeked through the crack in the door to see a short red headed woman spraying and cleaning the mirrors over the sinks. Then I could hear another couple of voices in the dressing room beyond. Then two feet stepped up to the stall door, and started rattling it. I quickly finished my business and stood up. Then I saw a latex gloved hand grabbed the top of the door and jimmy the lock. The door swung open and there stood a bespectacled gentleman staring at me in my birthday suit. "Um, occupied?" I said with a little bit of disdain in my voice. "Sorry," he said and promptly shut the door.

"There's a man in the stall," He whispered to the red head. As I pulled on my underwear, I was peeking out the crack and she just sort of shrugged it off. I stepped out of the stall walked past her and said with my best sarcasm, "Don't mind me, I'm just going to shower now." She just smiled and watched me walk away.

I turned the corner into the shower stall, took off my underwear and turned on the shower. I set the temperature and stuck my head under the warm jet. As I reached for my shampoo, I looked out, and there in the reflected image of a mirror, I saw two pairs of eyes, glancing at me, and then looking down.

Strange. One would think with a backpack open and it's contents laid out in the dressing room, someone would figure out that the room was not empty. Not to mention, if the stall door is closed and locked, it's possible... quite possible, that someone is inside of it. And heck, if someone of the opposite sex appears in front of me in nothing but underwear proclaiming they are about to shower, I'd promptly leave the room.

The toilet stall thing has happened to me so many times, I'm sort of used to it. It doesn't phase me much any more if someone opens the door while I'm busy, I'm sure they are more embarrassed than I.

But watching me shower, that was a new one. Guess I'm sexy. Like Brad Pitt.

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