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The way I see it, you've waited long enough. No long, drawn-out, melodramatic introduction is necessary, right? We can just get right down to the nitty-gritty, cut to the chase, get down to brass tacks, cut through the bullshit, get down to business, get this show on the road, take this bull by the horns and any other fucking clichŽ you can think of--I'm all out of mine. Just two quick things before we start. Yes, I promise, QUICK things.

First: The opinions expressed on this here page are solely MY opinions, Not Moosenet's, not Keneally's, not Toss's, certainly not Ed's...MINE. Unless otherwise noted, of course. Anybody who has a problem with that can e-mail the The Life Of Bryan customer service department at meeluvu@longtime.com.

Second: I have a story about Phil Bynoe that I want to share with you.

For those of you who were wondering how Phil and I would get along on this tour, you weren't alone. Not that I ever had anything against the guy who ripped my heart out and stomped on it with his big Gene Simmons-style boots--seriously, folks, we didn't know each other well enough to actually like or dislike one another. But, let's face it, the situation was such that tension might naturally exist. So imagine how I felt when I found out that Bass Player magazine wanted to do a "news and notes"-type article on Phil Bynoe and myself, specifically concerning the irony of the two of us being on the same tour. Not only that, but they wanted pictures of us together as well, and they wanted the whole thing to take place at the very first show that BFD was due to open for Vai, in Ventura, CA.

There were a few awkward moments in setting the whole thing up, but I'm happy to report that, when I finally arrived in Ventura, Phil and I talked candidly about the strangeness of the situation for about one uncomfortable minute...followed by about ten minutes of downright friendly banter on the whole mess. The next thing you know, we're being interviewed separately, and then only minutes later we're doing a photo shoot together. Before long, we're joking about how we've actually been plotting to kill each other for months. Within a week, fans were taking pictures of us together while we pretended to be choking each other. I promised a quick story, so to sum this all up, let me say this: Getting to know Phil was one of the coolest parts of this tour for me. And, on top of that, he's one hell of a fucking bass player. I'd kill for his goddamm thumb. It's hard to believe that he's been this good, for this long, and didn't have a major (read: high profile) gig until now. Maybe there is order to the universe after all. Oh yeah, the article--expect it sometime in the next couple of months.

OK, as promised, no more fucking around. My college-ruled spiral notebook is filled to the brim with colorful bests, worsts, weirdnesses, ironies, and just plain silliness from around the country. I now open my notebook to you. Ladies and gentlemen, The Best And Worst of the Half Alive In Hollywood Tour.

Strangest Highway Route Marker---the Oregon Expressway, Palo Alto, CA. It read as follows: "G3--END".

Coolest Natural Phenomenon---a massive lightning storm just outside of Coalinga, CA, during the dead of night. We could see it from the I-5 on our way to Vegas.

Most Classless Act By A Member Of The Tour Entourage---me, in Joe's 24-hour Cafe in Harrah's Casino in Las Vegas. It was 4:00 AM, we were all starving, the service sucked, and I noticed a whole plate of onion rings sitting on the recently vacated table next to ours. I thought about it for about ten seconds before finally reaching over and taking one. Ed then proceeded to get up, grab the entire plate, and bring it back to our table, distributing the second-hand rings amongst us. Was that worse than what I did? Maybe, but I started it and therefore take full responsibility.

Best Sign For A Roadside Eatery---Angilo's Pizza and Creamy Whip, just outside Cincinnati, OH.

City With The Worst Drivers---Las Vegas, NV. Losing money must make you forget how to drive, or something.

Most Morbid Highway Exit Sign---Exit 254, I-70 in Colorado: "Buffalo Bill's Grave".

Best Name For An Opening Act---The Reverb Brothers, Oklahoma City, OK. As mentioned in the Keneally KoncertKopia, I preferred to call them The Oklahoma Satellites, but their chosen name is good enough for me.

Loudest Venue---Cain's Ballroom, Tulsa, OK. This was a "live" room, as those in the sound reinforcement biz would say. Mike Mangini's highest tom was moving the floor.

Most Helpful Car Repairman---Steve Akin, Ft. Worth, TX. When I discovered that the steel belts were beginning to show on the tires of the Expo, this nice man was more than willing to give us a hefty break on the price of four new tires in exchange for Aftershow Passes and Vai's signature on his "Flex-able" LP. Ah, capitalism.

Weirdest Name On A Highway Billboard---"Bubba Oustalet", on the I-10 near the Louisiana/Texas border.

Best Ad Line For A Local Eatery---The Coal City Restaurant, Coal City, IL. The winning line: "Eat here or we both starve." How could we not eat there?

House DJ With The Biggest Ears---the guy at First Avenue in Minneapolis. While Keneally was tuning his guitar, I started playing basslines from my favorite Metallica tunes, including a somewhat obscure tune entitled "The Shortest Straw". Not more than five seconds after our set ended (and nearly 25 minutes after I'd played it), I could hear "Straw" pumping through the PA speakers. Pretty good, whoever you were.

Classiest Act By Any Member Of The Tour Entourage---Steve Vai, who took everyone out for Thanksgiving dinner at a really nice restaurant in Fort Worth, TX. This picture is the only shot of everyone from both bands and both crews. That Stevie Vai...what a nice boy!

Biggest Speedtrap---Arnold, MO. We were pulled over for "weaving". Only after we produced the Steve Vai itinerary were we let go. On our way out of town, we passed three separate police cruisers within three miles of each other poised to strike on unsuspecting speeders. Don't speed there.

Joe Travers' Favorite Road Sign---Bong Recreation Area, Kenosha, WI. Well, it would've been had he been along for the ride.

Most Unlikely Sighting Of A Professional Basketball Player---Indianapolis, IN. I was at a post office sending a copy of Toss' "Waternoise" CD off to Audiophile Imports (where it's now available--call (410)-628-7601 for details) when I noticed an extremely tall blonde-haired man waiting to use the phone. This guy was a good four inches taller than Gungi, putting him at well over seven feet tall. It was Rik "The Flying Dutchman" Smits, the 7'4" center of the Indiana Pacers. Turns out he'd locked his keys in his car, which gave us some time to talk basketball. He's on the injured list right now--I hereby wish this tall, kind man a speedy recovery.

Best MC Of A Show---Lou, at the Chicago House Of Blues. After we were finished, Lou knocked us out with this little ditty (sung to the tune of "Jazz Discharge Party Hats"): "Once upon a time...there was this band named Beer For Dolphins...they were really cool...". Then he went ahead and started singing "Apple Pie". We almost died.

Coolest Famous Musician In The Audience---Buddy Miles, who showed up in Omaha, NE, his hometown. Unfortunately, the Band Of Gypsys' drummer never got to see our rendition of their classic "Power To Love"--I had chosen "The Immigrant Song" that night instead, unaware that he was in the audience. And it was just as well, for my sake, since I'm the one who has to sing his vocal part in the song. That could have been pretty embarrassing. Buddy sat in for a jam during Vai's set, and for that moment, I was intensely jealous of one Philip Bynoe.

Dumbest Hotel Employee---Mister Howell, Travelodge University Square, Cleveland, OH. Yes, his real first name was "Mister". He clinched this award by mispronouncing Keneally's now-retired hotel alias, Gonnio Skeezits. Mister Howell's version went like this: "Skedeeboduhbadits".

Coolest Gas Station---McCandliss Quick Stop, Slippery Rock, PA. And you probably thought that "Slippery Rock, PA" was just a throwaway reference in Part 1, didn't you? You should know me better than that. This place was a favorite of the local hunters--everyone in there was dressed to the nines in the latest in hunter's fashion, fluorescent orange jumpsuits.

Most Women At One Show---Tommy Knockers, Long Island, NY. I think there were 16 women there.

Hardest City To Navigate In For The First Time (excluding Boston and NYC, two tough ones that I already know)---Pittsburgh, PA. All those rivers fuck everything up.

The Type 'A' Personality Award---Mike Mangini. It's hard to believe that someone other than me could actually win this award, but on certain days it really looked like his head was going to explode. More often than not, an incompetent monitor engineer was to blame for his highly combustible state. Most of the time, however, he had this jolly, "life is so FUN" type of mentality.

Best Demo Tape---The Space Surfers, "Pretty Damn Cool". It was actually a CD that I received in the mail from an Italian guitarist named John Volpe while I was out on the road. It's so twisted, I just had to mention it on the page. My favorite lyric: "Zigo zago Friday vengeance beach aficionado", sung in a high-pitched female Italian voice. By the way, John, if you're out there, send me another copy. Keneally wants one. Honorable mention goes to Rick Mals, a Pittsburgh area guitarist, who sounds kind of like Steve Vai on crack. That's meant as a compliment, by the way.

The Santa Claus Award---Joe D'Andrea, who showed up in NYC with the following gifts for us: Two loaves of homemade apple bread, the entire Keneally KoncertKopia printed out, pix included, for all of us to read (it was the first we'd seen of it...Toss in particular was just stunned by the level of detail), and CD's for each band member. Mine was "John Tesh at Red Rocks". Nice touch, Joe. Which leads us to...

The Life Of Bryan Conceptual Continuity Award---which you'd think that Mr. D'Andrea would've clinched with that bit of postcard information, but he was beat out by Cami Slotkin, famous Jewess and recent Poison Pentium guest editor. After the NYC show, I drove to my childhood home in Westfield, NJ, where I was plenty excited to be spending the night. There I found a box from Ms. Slotkin (to whom I never even gave my home address). Inside were...a complete set of towels. Even I don't remember what Act that was from. Amazing. You see, it always helps to bribe the guy who's giving out the awards.

Nicest Drive---I-70 from the Colorado State Line to Boulder. We drove under a light snow and a full moon through Vail, and it looked as if someone had dropped us off in the middle of heaven.

Worst Drive---Providence, RI to New York City, NY, on Friday, 12/20, in a pouring rain. I-95 was never so hateful as it was this day.

Best Cheap Eats---Michael's Family Restaurant, Milwaukee, WI. Try the French toast with American fries. Toss was talking Greek with the owners, as he was throughout the country. Toss could smell a Greek-owned restaurant from about 47 miles away.

Fan Who Drove The Longest Distance To Attend A BFD Show---Kent Huffnagle, who came from Orlando, FL to The Bayou in Washington, D.C. That's a 16 hour drive, boys and girls.

Most Relatives At One Gig---Birch Hill, NJ. The BFD dressing room was filled with nothing but Greeks and Jews.

Most Acts Of Kindness Towards BFD At One Gig---The Strand Theatre, Providence, RI. Cindy Zeuli (Dweezil Zappa Fan Club President) made Mike an apple pie that said "Mike--BFD" on it. Inga Wohlgemuth (former award winner) made us a divine cheesecake. (Have I mentioned that I gained 10 pounds on this tour? This seems like a good time to do so.) And, as if that wasn't enough, I had informed the venue's stage manager that Toss and his girlfriend Kiki (who was, at this point, traveling with us) needed to catch a train to New York City after our set was over. He responded by having a limousine waiting for them when we were done playing. We felt kind of cool on this night. By the way, are there enough parentheses in this paragraph?

Coolest Venue Perk---The Ranch Bowl, Omaha, NE. The venue had a bowling alley attached to it, and each member of the band and crew was entitled to a free game. I was the only one to take advantage of this magnificent perk, and I bowled a respectable 159. Hey, when you grow up in New Jersey, you bowl.

The "Destiny Turns On The Radio" Award---98 Rock, Baltimore, MD. They played Gary Hoey's "Desire" (one of the tunes I played during my audition for him) as I was leaving Washington, D.C., just moments after the tour officially ended. Oh, what might have been.

Psychotic Fan Award---Colin LaMastra. He actually got up onstage and sang (well, screamed is more like it) "Weekend" with Keneally at Irving Plaza in New York City. I think I can say with some degree of certainty that Colin, a lifelong friend of Steve Vai's, is probably the biggest freak I've ever met in my whole life. In a good way, of course.

Best Practical Joker---McGee. (Mangini's drum tech that I told you about in Part 1, remember?) At Bogart's in Cincinnati, OH, during "The Attitude Song", Mike Mangini needed a funny hat to wear like the rest of the guys in the band, so he asked McGee if he could slap one on his head before the start of the tune. What does McGee do? He gets Mangini a nice Santa Claus Christmas hat to wear, and McGee dutifully puts it on his head at the proper time. What Mangini doesn't know is that, written on the front of his hat, in sparkle lettering, is one, simple word: "COCK".

McGee was also blessed with a talent for drawing, which he put to use throughout the tour, creating these wickedly funny and obscene caricatures of just about every member of the entourage. His favorite targets? Rich Pike (Vai's personal assistant), who McGee had renamed "Dick Flynt" for his supposed love of pornography--Mike Mangini, for his propensity to lose his cool with those hated monitor engineers--and Phil Bynoe, for his oversized, uh, "package". No one escaped the wrath of McGee's wit on this tour--not even Mr. Vai, who was depicted as a bone thin plasticman named "Meatless" for his vegetarian eating habits. A McGee sendup of Beer For Dolphins was commissioned and may now be viewed by the stout of heart. Parental and prenatal guidance is suggested.

OK, we're ready for the big awards. Let's get on with it, shall we?

Best Restaurant---The Blue Ribbon, New York City. A huge Zappa/Vai/Keneally fan named Bruce Bromberg came to the show in NYC and, after the gig ended, invited us down to "his place" for what he said would be a good meal. We arrived there at around 2:00 AM to find out that "his place" was one of the nicest restaurants in SoHo. I can honestly say that I ate one of the three best meals I've ever eaten IN MY LIFE at this establishment. If you live near it, go there. It ain't cheap, but it's worth it.

Worst Restaurant---Swank Family Steak House, Oklahoma City, OK. We're lucky we're still alive.

Best Hotel---The Doubletree in Tulsa, OK. For the price of a Days Inn on the East Coast, here you get a high-rise luxury hotel, complete with restaurants and a nice gym. Of course, you have to stay in Tulsa, so it's your call.

Worst Hotel---The Pines Motor Lodge in Long Island, NY, was a genuine pit, complete with weird smelling pillows and truck fumes coming in from everywhere. Vai's bus actually pulled up to this place, at which point Steve took one look at it and said something like, "Let's go." In The Alternate Reality, we'd just driven overnight from Buffalo, and we didn't have much of a choice, so we said "fuck it" and braved it for a few hours. Toss was treated to the sounds of some trucker banging the hell out of his honey for the length of his stay. Then he noticed the mirror on the ceiling.

Best Sounding Venue, Front Of House---Irving Plaza, New York City

Worst Sounding Venue, F.O.H.---Birch Hill, Englishtown, NJ. I'll get to slamming this fucking pit of a venue properly in a little bit.

Best Monitor (on stage) Sound---The Joint (at The Hard Rock Hotel and Casino), Las Vegas, NV. Joe from the Hard Rock, you de man. Actually, our on-stage sound was really good for a few gigs; Buffalo, New Orleans and Detroit come to mind...all good shows, by the way. It's no coincidence.

Worst Monitor Sound---I say The Vogue in Indianapolis, Toss says Caravan Of Dreams in Fort Worth. They both sucked, the direct result of soundman incompetence.

Most Unfriendly Venue Production Crew---The Odeon, Cleveland, OH. These people treated us like shit, just because they were pissed off at Vai's lengthy soundcheck. They also gave me shit for having Joe Travers backstage with us. To top it all off, they tried to shortchange us a measly fucking $50. at the end of the night. To the Odeon: We don't like you very much either.

Best Overall Venue Crew---Ogden Street Concert Hall, Buffalo, NY. These guys held their own and more with the likes of crews from such reputable venues as The House Of Blues (in any city), The Hard Rock Hotel in Las Vegas, and Irving Plaza in NYC. The sound was pristine, the stagehands were strong and plentiful, and they even served us a homemade Italian dinner. What a huge difference it makes when the staff of a venue is as skilled and professional as this fine club's was.

Worst Overall Sound Crew---a tie, between Cardi's in Houston and Graffiti in Pittsburgh. At Graffiti, doors had to be held for two whole hours while fans shivered in the freezing cold and the sound crew tried to get the PA to stop feeding back. A complete nightmare.

Best Overall Venue---The House Of Blues in New Orleans, LA. Great sound, great food, great atmosphere...a dream come true.

Worst Overall Venue---Birch Hill, Englishtown, NJ. Where do I even start with this place? How about with a fan's perspective...Brian Lagerman: "Driving up that thing that I guess they call a road, holes everywhere, ASSHOLES, POTHOLES, we thought we were driving to fuckin' "PORKY'S". And then we had to pay 2 bucks to park, it was a fucking dump." That's a good start, but I'll never forget the freezing temperature inside the club, the hospitality (food and drink) lady who was so hung over that she couldn't even talk, the dance club next door which attracted the most horrifyingly typical guidos in the world...I can't believe my grandparents came to this hole.

But it gets worse. There was a fan who was threatening Roger Bell with violence because he didn't have a good answer to the question, "What the fuck does this fucking aftershow pass mean?" A bouncer had to punch him out. An ambulance had to be called in for another guy who was beaten practically unconscious by a group of three bouncers in the parking lot, where at least three fights started. And then, worst of all, Toss and Kiki stumbled upon a girl being sexually assaulted by two men in a car while another stood guard. Upon noticing Toss staring at them, the guys panicked, and the girl was able to kick her way out of the car while the guys scurried off like the cockroaches that they were. Kiki tried to get the police, but they were busy breaking up another fight. Add to this the miserable, beyond-the-pain-threshold sound, the fact that they wouldn't even turn the house music down during our doors-open soundcheck, and the fact that they almost didn't let my sister into the club even though she was on the guest list, and it clinches the award for the worst venue I've probably ever played in my life. I hate to say it, but I was actually glad that Mike forgot to mention that I was from New Jersey during the show that night. OK, I feel better now.

Best City---New Orleans. Keneally: "They call New York the city that never sleeps? HA!" We were in a bar at 6:30 AM on Sunday of Thanksgiving weekend. What a city. Just don't walk alone after dark or you'll be killed instantly, either by a mugger or by a big boat crashing into the Riverwalk.

Worst City---Oklahoma City, OK. Not a very exciting place.

Best Crowd---a tie. At The Edge, in Palo Alto, the crowd was REALLY loud. At the House Of Blues in Chicago, they might have even been louder. Both places gave us responses more befitting of a headliner than a support act, and we were genuinely humbled and thankful on both occasions.

Quietest Crowd---Bogart's, Cincinnati, OH. Afterwards, I said to Mike, "I don't think they liked us very much." They were definitely the quietest bunch to date, but then they turned around and shocked us by buying more merchandise than any other crowd thus far on the tour. Afterwards, BFD was mobbed by people who wanted their new CD's autographed. Weird, huh?

Angriest Show---The Vogue, Indianapolis, IN. Already immortalized by Eric Tullis and Michael Lerch, the "Gig Of Angst" was a result of that day's unfortunate events. The official version is as follows: Woke up in St. Louis, realized that we were an hour behind schedule due to unforeseen time zone change (my fault), found the Expo broken into with drum pedals and CD player/CD's missing (some asshole parking attendant's fault), got a speeding ticket in the way to the drum shop to replace the stolen pedals (Toss' fault), and finally arrived in Indy at 8:00 PM--an hour before our set time. Keneally had taken care of all of the tour manager stuff for me already (thank God), but the sound situation was a total disaster. Monitors were farting, feeding back, the works. The only answer was beer. Everyone started drinking, me most of all, and when it came time to play, I was pissed off--and piss drunk. All of BFD was close to the brink by that point, and the show ended up being more than just a musical performance; it was a catharsis, with Mike and I screaming every chance we got and me overusing my distortion pedal. "Assholes" was particularly fun that night. It's a miracle that I didn't pass out on stage.

Worst Played Show---Caravan Of Dreams, Ft. Worth, TX. We were soundchecking with the doors open for the second night in a row, and Toss was mighty pissed about that and some other things. The sound crew was totally incompetent, and I wasn't real good at being tour manager boy just yet, so things really got out of hand and our morale went in the toilet. Toss purely went through the motions, as did I, and Keneally's attempts to cheer up Mr. Panos resulted in one of the more memorable quotes of the tour, which you'll have to wait for the next part to read.

Best Played Show---Cardi's, Houston, TX. Maybe it's something about Texas. This was the first night in which Vai had major problems during soundcheck, and I hate to say it, but I think it made us feel a little bit better about our sonic plight. When we finally got up there to soundcheck (with the doors open, of course), we were really loose--almost like the way we felt before the show that eventually became Disc 2 of "Half Alive". I should've known...we simply took the material and throttled it, riding high on a huge wave of confidence and carelessness. We took chances every step of the way, and still we could do no wrong. Anyone who was there might have seen the best show we've ever played, period. It was by far and away the best show of the tour. 2nd place--Mississippi Nights, St. Louis, MO. 3rd Place--Tommy Knockers, Long Island, NY.

You tired yet? You want more? Well, the Quotes Of Note are just around the corner. Rest up, my friends...there's still plenty to come. You know, a lot of really nice people e-mailed me while I was gone (in spite of the "moratorium" that I requested, but didn't demand--I'll know better next time), saying that they really hoped that I'd continue writing the Life Of Bryan even though I was going to be this famous guy soon. Well, be careful what you ask for...you just might read it.

And, no...BFD will not be marketing hats with the word "COCK" on the front. Quotes coming up......................................B.B.