LA - Day #1 (17th February 2015)
Dan Clark's beautiful account of day one in LA... Check it out!
What we'll grandly call The Megan O'Neill Band (in reality Megan, Tom and me) lounge in the back of a huge LA cab discussing personal hygiene.
After our 11 hour flight the prospect of a shower is anticipated with an almost religious hysteria.
Megan O'Neill is a wholesome girl next door with the voice of an angel. She is not an offensive girl. You would have no qualms over introducing your mother to her. You would have no qualms over introducing your grandmother to her.
Indeed, were you visiting an International School For The Prudish And Easily Offended you could confidently introduce her to the deputy head mistress.
So one point in the chat contains something of a revelation.
"I haven't had a shower since Saturday" exclaims our fearless leader. We do a double take. It's Tuesday.
Megan O'Neill is not a lady one would ever associate with anything other than scrupulous personal hygiene. I've never gone so far as actually sniffing her like a bloodhound, but I wouldn't hesitate to advise anyone considering doing so that they would find her nothing less than delightfully fragrant.
Megan O'Neill explains she doesn't need to shower every single day. "It's different for girls", she explains confidently. I am incredulous.
Megan O'Neill smiles enigmatically and carries on looking out of the window at California; a state every bit as sunny as her natural disposition.
The dynamic of The Megan O'Neill Band is essentially a constant yin and yang. In one corner, Megan's insanely irrepressible positivity. I attempt, in vain, to balance this with relentless curmudgeonly cynicism. Somewhere in the middle, like a boxing referee, Tom's essentially well
balanced good nature keeps order.
I say I attempt to balance Megan's juggernaut of perma-optimism in vain, because stopping it is an impossible task. No matter how bleak the situation, she sees the bright side. If a nuclear war broke out tomorrow, Megan O'Neill would see it as a great opportunity to get a tan.
However, as the cab drops us at our accommodation for this trip, even my instinctive grouchiness has a hard time finding any downside. Brian and Ciaran, Megan's incredibly resourceful management, have hired us all a beautiful house with an outdoor pool and grand piano.
Megan O'Neill wastes no time in gleefully pointing out to me that her positive philosophy and world view have demonstrably worked. "Just think positive and it'll happen!" she urges me for the thousandth time, knowing I find this incredibly irritating.
I growl grumpily and resentfully take a pull of my cold beer as we laze by the lovely pool in the gorgeous sunshine. I am determined not to enjoy myself because if I do she'll have won, and will henceforth cite this as material proof that all this goddam positive thinking hippy nonsense actually works.
I am therefore annoyed to find myself enjoying myself immensely. Whatever you do, don't anybody tell her or she'll be insufferable.
Anyway, tomorrow we have showcases to play so we have a quick run through some tunes and turn in early to work on the jet lag.