It was a lovely morning in the suburbs where we boarded a van and drove the short distance to the double-secret house of musical preparation. With everything already set up, we could each crack on with projects such as cable-making, cable-altering, and cable-something-elsing. By around noon I was finished my list of to-dos, and ate fattening snacks while waiting for the boss to arrive.
Outside, patches of cloud swirl in the warm air above the facility as (the man they call) Pants and I discuss life-altering, clandestine matters. Rumour has reached our ears through whispers in the wind of a means to perform the rites of laundry within the walls of our secret hotel. Turning to more profane matters, we spoke of the comings and goings of Van Halen members; it’s that kind of day.
When Leonard arrived the place was clean, tidy, and ready for him to do his thing, which is to play on his own for while, a kind of warm-up ritual, acclimating to the acoustics of the small but adequate room.
The band arrived in vans from their triple-secret location and began filtering into the room, upto the stage, and into their roles as the Field Commander’s musical vanguards. It must have been around 5.30pm when things got going for real; they worked at the set, and discussed the shuffling of song-cards in the musical deck, with a view to making this tour-leg somewhat different from the last.
Around 9.30pm the gavel dropped on the session and our musical vanguard. As they filtered in, they filtered out, on and away to their triple-secret hideaway in the underground realm of Magikland where elves and pixies make angel wings. As for the more profane of us: after returning to the secret Palais des Chambres, Dan and I ate in a Japanese theme, chugging back some golden bubbles while the place closed. As for rehearsals, I should imagine tomorrow will, to our secular minds, be much like it was today.