| Some of the previous columns |
| "Keeping a straight spine with Cyndi" - 1th of August "My freedom goes up in smoke again" - 29th of July George in Bosnia - 15th of April |
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| Sunday, 29th July My freedom goes up in smoke again When the female traffic cop approached me outside Minneapolis airport and told me: "Put your cigarette out, sir," my hackles rose. I wanted to quip: "Do you eat meat, Ma'am? Because I don't and I find that offensive!" Of course, I kept my big mouth shut and moved along to door six, where you could smoke freely. I understand rules that make sense, but since when did the American authorities own the sky? The US is going overboard with this whole anti-everything mentality and it's getting on my nerves. I was travelling with my friend and macrobiotic cheff-ess, Melanie Waxman, and we were wondering (dream on) if there would ever be a meat-free section in American airports. It's not something I want, but you get my drift. I'm quite sure that most folk I encounter on my travels have differing political, sexual and social views to my own, but I live and let live. I have to sit on planes with people gorging on slaughtered animals but I never complain. Smoking, as stupid as it is, is an informed decision, but animals don't ask to be electrocuted and served up between two slices of rye. I thought this bonkers "You can't smoke in the street" rule was just a quirk of Minneapolis but on arriving in Dallas there were also No Smoking signs outside the airport - but luckily no cop. Minneapolis, home of the shy pop guru Prince, was not the most brimming gig but those who came danced vigorously. Im America, the idea of dancing to a DJ is controversial but they are slowly coming round. Dallas, a city I love because it's so butch that it's camp, was great fun and I got to sign two pairs of breasts, one real and the other purchased by a striking Thai (ex)male who could confuse and ardent heterosexual. I managed to pull a healthy-sized crowd midweek and I was in such a good mood afterwards, I stuck around to sign breasts, bras and sweaty T-shirts. Los Angeles was a stonking gig and I got to play with Miss-Stress Barbara, an up-and-coming female DJ who dresses like a classy executive but plays tough grooves. The only annoying aspect of this tour is that you can't get my latest DJ mix album in most of the cities I have visited, but we have been selling them ourselves and I've been customising T-shirts to sell. Am I a one man cottage industry or what? The album has sold about 40,000, which might not get Michael Jackson excited but I'm quite pleased. The last big record I had in America was the Crying Game and I get the impression the punters would prefer to hear me sing. They might not have to wait long because I intend to record a new album later this year. In the meantime, I have recorded a new song with Radio One DJ Judge Jules and talented Irish dance-meister Paul Masterson for their Hi-gate project. To dip my toes back in the recording pool I have also lent my vocals to a new tune by Dark Globe. For now, though, I must focus on the job at hand Next stop, Ohio. On the food front I have been eating very healthily. Ms Waxman, the priestess of the scented wok, has been cooking, and very successfully, in the hotel room on a tiny camping stove. It's amazing what can be achieved with enough will and skill. We've been getting some surprised looks as we dig into soba noodles and vegetables on planes, but you should see the veggie options. It's pure rabbit food. A plate of dry raw vegetables is not enough for a touring boy who lives between meals. |