Happy New Year Missouri!

The year of the Ringo started well with a Cardinal baseball victory in St. Louis. I then looked for another good omen as I travelled to Columbia. I was greatly relieved to see the Columns of Mizzou still standing. Omen granted.

Things were almost derailed on my way to Kansas Cityby the not-too-surprising fact that occasionally, Greyhound Busses, is a sub-par operation. That my friends, is a perfect example of a company that is still embracing Year of the Rat philosophies, and not Year of the Ringo.

In Kansas City, Aaron, Jamie, and Katie helped to make Day of Gluttony a huge success. After a keg of Boulevard and an uncountable mass of meat was sacrificed, the Gods were appeased.

The Year of the Ringo

The Chinese do not start their years on Jan. 1. Neither do I. Sometime around early June, we completed the Year of the Rat. And while i personally realized a few positives to come out of that year, on an overall scale, it sucked hard core.

Presently, the Chinese calendars have labelled the new year as 'year of the ox.' This is wrong. June, 2009 until June 2010 will now officially be known as 'year of the Ringo.' This will entail 365 days of celebrating all that is Ringo. The first celebrations took place in Missouri.............

Family Time in the Dirty South

That's my nephew Leo. He's destined for great things, especially when that incredibly loud drum set that i ordered for him arrives. It's called the "The Sanity Destroyer." It is given a consumer report rating of 5 stars by uncles who don't live in the same country as their nephews, and a rating of -1 stars by parents.

I was recently hanging out with Leo, and my brother and sister-in-law (Jeff and Kelly) in Lexington, Kentucky. My role was to teach Leo sweet WWF style wrestling moves. This consisted of pushing the air-mattress and couches together and then tossing Leo off the top turn buckle. I found this was best done just before bedtime. The key was to wind the little guy up to a level known as "delirious with hysteria" and then turn him over to Jeff and Kelly and walk out the door with my hands raised up in victory.

It is currently undetermined whether i will be invited back to Lexington in the future.

Off to my birth place, and then a date with the St. Lunatics.

Red, White and Blue is the New Black

If you're an American, you may look at the picture above and think, "I don't see anything strange there." But if you are one of the MANY international readers of this blog, you probably see the fashion catastrophe above and think to yourself, "Holy Shit! Someone has combined a waving American Flag, a Bald Eagle, and the Grand Canyon all into one shirt!?"

This is America my friends. Patriotism is not just a feeling, it's a fashion statement.

Now i don't want to be entirely critical. This gem of a garment was found at The Cracker Barrel, an establishment that was the first of my US tour to reunite me with biscuits and gravy. That is a food that could solve some world problems. I don't know how, but i think it could.

Ringo Sacks the Windy City

As i left Manila to begin the summer travels it was raining. No surprise.

Things were sunnier when i finally landed (about 24 sleepless hours later) in Chicago to a family fiesta. There was a quick onslaught of my mom, brothers, nephew, cousins, aunts, uncles, etc. Towards 6 pm i was fighting off a collapse so i had a cup of coffee* to try and stay awake until 9. The next thing i know myself, the Dingo, Monica, and Colleen are out for live band karaoke until 1 am. Yes we sang, and yes we they loved us. Then Colleen declared the next day a no-work day (as if i had responsibility anyway), and we proceeded to some other establishment to shoot virtual deer with electronic shotguns. I cannot recommend a greater cure for jet-lag.

I woke up two days later behind home plate in the 10th row at a White Sox game. Lord knows that given the festivities beforehand, i could have woken up in much worse places. We completed the Chicagoland visit with running through Lincoln Park and a viewing of the Blue Man Group. I then rendezvoused with my other brother and sister-in-law to hitch a ride into the Dirty South.

* I don't what brand of coffee that was, but i want more.

Rocking Myself into Exile

Last night my band rocked so hard that Manila said, "We cannot contain you. Get out." I did not need to be told twice, hence this comes to you via Seoul airport.

We rocked especially hard because.............
- My friend Keith joined in on harmonica, and he is a bad ass harmonica player. I mean, he has multiple harmonicas that he removes from a sheath in a similar manner to when Voltron draws his sword before slaying some blood curdling alien beast.
- The magazine article came out! The Sexpatriots were given a two page article in Expat Travel and Leisure, complete with a gratuitious amount of pictures and quotes. Yes, you will all receive autographed copies for Xmas. i know that's what you want.
- We played 3 sets (instead of the normal 2) because we are long, strong, and down to get the friction on. Some guy even bought us all beers. Yes, the bar gives us free drinks anyway, but it's the thought that counts. And yes, it also would have been more awesome if it was some smokin' hot female who bought us drinks, but we're still working on attracting that demographic.

When it Rains Too Much, Give Up

Rainy season has arrived in Manila. It is raining 24 hours a day, and even beginning to darken the soul. There is only one solution: a final night of extended rock by The Sexpatriots at Murphy’s, and then boarding an airplane to get the hell out of Dodge.

I hit US soil in Chicago, and provided I’m not carrying heroin (it’s not on my packing list), I’ll be released back to America to the sound of thousands of fans chanting “USA!,
USA!, USA!” After Chicago it’s on to Kentucky and then Missouri. Look for the crazy-haired guy wearing the red-white-and-blue cowboy suit. That will be me.