Frenchy's Rant

Biggest Cell Phone Tower in Paris

It’s been a whirlwind, as traveling with me always is. I have to say I am proud of Sleeping Beauty for keeping up – in fact a lot of the time she’s dragging ME around! It’s been planes, trains and more trains as we bopped from place to place on Europe’s fine rail system. Haven’t gotten lost (much) or ended up in the wrong area (often) which has been a treat. We’ve mastered most of Europe’s complex shower and toilet systems, and even figured out how to order coffee in three languages.

Today we’re off to Belgium, because we hear they make killer waffles up that way. Our trip is nearly over, but the picture sorting and blogging has just begun!

This trip started in Manchester, with a bunch of wise-ass WWE crewmembers standing in front of a bunch of sour faced customs officials. We sat and waited as the sour faced agents ‘activated’ our paperwork. In trips past, we’d walk up to the desk with a work permit, the agent would ask us some silly questions, then stamp our passports and we’d be on our way. Many trips ago, I learned the hard way that these officials have zero sense of humor. Upon handing over my work permit, the guard asked me what exactly I did for World Wrestling Entertainment.

“I am an audio engineer.”

“And you are telling me there is nobody in all of the United Kingdom that can perform your duties?”

“Nope,” the old wise ass Frenchy answered, “because we haven’t been able to find anyone sober long enough to do it.”

That little comment earned me a nice, long timeout in the immigrations office. Now I just shut my mouth and play nice.

The show that never ends has landed in Sheffield, UK this week, solidly putting the World in World Wrestling Entertainment. Sheffield is about as nice a place in England as can be found, which means it’s not quite as rainy, damp and cold as London is. When it’s not pouring down rain, the view from my hotel room is pretty nice:

And of course, as every city in England seems to have, there’s a big Ferris wheel in the center of town.

Thrilling.

It’s almost sad that coming to the United Kingdom has become humdrum, just another place that work takes me. Speaking of work, this week I am working in a small, cramped audio closet in the back of a TV truck.

This tiny work area may have something to do with the humdrum feelings, as well as the claustrophobic ones.

Monday and Tuesday are show days. Parole starts Wednesday, when Fiona joins me in Manchester for some vacation in an undisclosed European destination. By undisclosed I mean undecided, in that we have no plan yet except to wander over to the airport in Manchester at some point and see where we feel like going. To me, is the best way to go on a motorcycle-less vacation.

Thrilling.

This past week, Fiona and I got to play host. ‘Flat’ Stanley Lambchop arrived in an envelope to the Kingdom of Rhode Island for a visit.

He crawled out of his manila travel pouch, and in his unique, high-pitched, two dimensional voice, introduced himself to us, saying, “I’m Stanley, and I’m here to learn about the cultures and customs of your great state.”

As anyone who reads this blog knows, the Kingdom of Rhode Island is as close as one can get to paradise, closer even than Knoxville. Fiona and I, being the goodwill ambassadors we are, set out to show Flat Stanley the wonders of the Biggest Little State in the Union.

On the way he started whining, “It’s fucking cold in this dump. This sucks.” Fiona, ever resourceful, quickly fashioned our flat visitor a hat, mittens and gloves from some extra construction paper we had laying around. This seemed to cheer Stanley up a bit.

Welcome to Rhode Island, Stanley!

“Yes, yes, wonderful. The Ocean State,” said Stanley. “Wow. A sign. So clever. But umm… where’s the ocean?”

I shot Fiona  a glance, the one that says, “Stanley is kind of being a dick, isn’t he?” She just smiled, obviously smitten with Mr. Lambchop’s charms. Ah well. Maybe it’s just me I thought.

The ocean? OK. No problem. We took Flat to see the wonderful Atlantic Ocean, certain that he’d be impressed with the best ocean on the whole planet.

Stanley By The Sea

“This the best your state has? It’s a bunch of cold water!” he grumbled. “Shit, this is going to be a long day.”

My feelings exactly. I pondered buying a lighter and making Stanley’s day a bit more interesting by warming him up a bit. That idea was immediately shot down.

Fiona, repeating the one true fact that I know for certain about my state, the one fact that is always sure to impress, asked F.S. “Did you know that the Rhode Island State House has the fourth largest unsupported marble dome in the world, after St. Peter’s Basilica, the Minnesota State Capitol and the Taj Mahal?”

“No, but I bet we’re going there now, aren’t we?”

Yup.

Stanley at the Rhode Island State House

“Well, at least this shitty state is small, so we don’t have to waste the whole fucking day driving around in it!” said Stanley.

OK, I’ve had enough. I took him aside and hissed, “Stanley, what’s your problem?”

“I came here to learn about culture, not all this bullshit!”

“But Stanley, this IS culture!”

“It sucks!”

Fiona asked him, “Well Stan, what kind of culture would you like to learn about?”

Laughing, he cried out, “You know, real culture! Like the ballet!” Then, in the most improbable display of inanimate cardboard animation ever, Stanley grabbed my wallet, shoved me out of the way, and with a scream of “See ya suckers!”  jumped behind the wheel of the Jeep and took off down the highway.

Stanley Gets His Culture On

When we finally caught up with Stanley, he was nearly out of money. It took the threat of meeting up with Mr. Shredder to get him out of the club. On the way home, the annoying little bastard started screaming once again.

“Stop! Stop right now!”

“What? Whassamatter now?”

“I need booze! I need cigarettes!”

Fine. Whatever it takes to shut this cardboard character up.

By the time we arrived home, Stanley had slammed a six pack and half a bottle of Rumplemintz. Full of liquid cheer, he suddenly became… almost, but not quite… charming.

“Wow, your state is really great! Thank you so much for such a good time!” Finally, some appreciation from Stanley. Maybe I misjudged him all along. He continued, “Any chance you can go out and get all of us some dinner?”

I knew he was up to something, but it had been a long day, and we were all hungry, so I drove down to Bollie’s Chowder Shack for some good ol’ fashioned RI sustenance – clam cakes and chowdah. When I returned home, I immediately noticed a mysterious trail of confetti leading directly to the bedroom. Following the trail to the end, I couldn’t believe my eyes…

Somehow Flat Stanley had seduced Fiona! I saw the red mist and without even thinking I grabbed this cardboard jackass by his ridiculously long neck, crumpled him into a neat little ball, shoved him in the shredder, lit his remains on fire, threw the ashes of Crispy Stanley Lambchop into an envelope, and mailed him right back to Fictionland, CA where he came from.

“Come on Frenchy, UPDATE YOUR DAMN BLOG ALREADY!”

“Man, you need to write something new! What the hell has been going on lately?”

Well, so far in the two and a half weeks that have made up this month, I’ve logged fifteen flights, two train rides, and way too many nights in a different hotel room. It’s gotten to the point that the hotel room now stays the same, just the stuff inside the room changes. Every night. I’ve been to Newark, Wilkes-Barre, Trenton, Stamford, Detroit, Indianapolis, Lexington, Lincoln, Jacksonville, Columbia, and Stamford again before coming home finally. Just when I hoped it might slow down a bit,  I’m off for more flights and fun in a few short days. And pretty soon we’ll hop across the pond to England, which means  the annual WWE Corporate Retreat is just around the corner.

Has stuff happened? Sure it has. Has it been interesting?

Well, there’s been delayed planes, screaming babies, screaming producers, evacuation warnings, more screaming babies,  firemen, car crashes, football, wrestling, people sleeping in airports, swine flu, Macallan toasts, a Chat with the Chairman, weddings,leaves have fallen, snow has fallen (!), there’ve been even  more delays, drunk cab drivers, corn fields, plenty of laughing with old friends and new ones, lots of photography, and still more screaming babies, and that’s all just in the past two weeks. It’s been a blur.

It might sound like complaining, but rest assured, it’s the furthest thing from it. I love bouncing around like a pinball, even when the normally accelerated pace accelerates.

Wouldn’t have it any other way.

Normal yawn-inspiring blogging will resume shortly.