Start of ‘X’ Tour

2002

 

Malvin held 5 personal journals, all with various multi-colored covers in a glossy finish, in both his hands and held them out to the men standing in front of them.

 

“Here,” Malvin said as if an order.  “Each of you take one.”

 

Joe slid the one with a blaring psychadelic striped design on the very top and looked at it.

 

“What’s this?”

 

Malvin rolled his eyes.  “Joe, you’re forty-three bleedin’ years old.  Do you need me to explain everything to you, or can’t you figure anything out for yourself.  What does it look like?”

 

Joe opened it up and looked at the clean, unmarked, lined pages.  “A diary?”

 

“A journal,” Malvin corrected.  “Here, the rest of you take one.”

 

Phil pulled the next one off the stack that had a midnight black finish with silver bubbles all over it.  “And what are we supposed to do with them?”

 

Malvin gave Phil a look of chastisement.  “Do I have to hold your hand too, Phil?  And you’re the eldest.  What do you think you do with a journal?  You write in them.”

 

Sav took the next one which had a deep blue cover with tiny gold stars all over it.

 

“Hmm, looks like the little stars my kindergarten teacher used to put on my drawings,” Sav replied.

 

Viv folded his arms and looked at Sav.  “Wow, you can remember back that far, eh?”

 

Malvin hung his head, knowing that this peaceful calm wouldn’t last.  It seems as if Def Leppard’s 25+ year history together was beginning to show.  Nerves were frayed, tempers were a little short and snide comments were as common as shamrocks in Ireland.  He was wondering who was gonna take the first dig at who.

 

Sav turned to Viv and smiled sweetly before swatting him across the back of the head with his golden-starred journal.

 

Viv put his hand to the back of his head.  “Ow, you idiot! What’s the matter, Sav?  Can’t take a joke?”

 

Sav feigned ignorance with wide eyes.  “Oh, I’m sorry.  Was that supposed to be a joke?”

 

Before it got farther, Malvin got in between them.  “Enough!  Viv, keep your comments to yourself and take your journal.”

 

Viv took the next one, with a deep brown cover with a golden sunrise.  Rick looked at it and smirked.

 

“Must be for your sunny, Irish disposition,” Rick snickered.

 

Before Viv could take a stab at Rick, Malvin held the last one up in front of Rick’s face.  “Here, take it.”

 

“Hey,” Rick complained, looking at the silvery blue-covered journal with little snowflakes spattered all over it.  “How come everyone else got to choose, but I didn’t?”

 

“Quit your’e complaining, Allen,” Joe snarled.  “We didn’t choose.  We just took the one that was on top.”

 

“Well then how come Malvin started with you first, Joe?  Its always ‘Joe first’ because you’re the lead singer and its always ‘Rick last’ because he’s the lowly drummer that just hangs in the back.”

 

“You know, you’re incessant whining is getting on my nerves,” Phil snarled at Rick.  “Knock it off, okay?”

 

Rick looked at Phil with mock fright.  “Ooooh, or what, Phil?  Gonna kick-box a one armed man?”

 

Phil stood in front of Rick and folded his arms.  “Since when do we ever give you special treatment?”

 

“Certainly not now,” Rick said, sneering at his journal.  “This is something Lauren Shane would draw in.  Crikey Mal, why didn’t you just give me a pink one with Malibu Barbie on it?”

 

“Bloody hell,” Sav said under his breath, pinching his temples.  “Here Allen, if it means that much, take mine.”

 

Sav held out his blue, golden-starred journal to Rick who immediately took it.  “Thanks Sav.  Here, you can have this one.  The snowflakes suit you better, since you’ve been acting flaky lately.”

 

Sav turned to Rick with an incredulous look.  “What?  This is what I get for being nice?”

 

“Maybe that’s your problem, Sav,” Joe said.  “You’re a little too nice sometimes.  You should’ve let Allen keep the journal he wound up with.  You’ve got no backbone whatsoever.”

 

Sav made a face at Joe.  “Sorry, Joe.  Let me know the next time you’re teaching  a ‘Dirty-Rotten Bastard’ course and I’ll sign up.”

 

“You mean ‘Dirty-Rotten-Big Mouth Bastard’?” Viv corrected. 

 

“Um, make that ‘Dirty-Rotten-Big Mouth, Long Winded Bastard,” Phil added.  “I should know.  I’ve been doing all these blasted interviews with him these last few month.”

 

“Yeah, and some of the fans don’t quite like it,” Rick added.  “They’ve been wondering where me, Sav and Viv are.  They’re beginning to refer to you guys as ‘The Joe and Phil Show’.”

 

“I don’t listen to that negative garbage,” Joe said defensively.  “Besides, I’ve always been the most outspoken, so I’ve always done the majority of the interviews.  Who cares what anyone thinks?  The frontman is usually the most vocal and that’s what I am.”

 

“And you sure don’t waste time letting people know it,” Phil said with dripping sarcasm.

 

Joe got in Phil’s face.  “Well, one thing I do know is that I can kick your tofu eating ass from here to Uranus!”

 

Phil looked at Joe unaffected.  “Joe, go back in the closet and leave my anus out of this, will ya?”

 

Malvin let this go on long enough.

 

“Shut up!  Just shut the hell up, all of you!  I’ve had it!  I’ve bloody, friggin’ had it!  I’m ready to go out that door and leave you to your own devices on this tour.   But, since I’ve been with you lads for so long, I just can’t bring myself to do it without trying to remedy the situation.  These journals are yours.  You are to take them with you on tour and keep them with you.  You are to write in them – everyday if possible.  You guys have been together so long that its starting to show and, before you tear each other up, perhaps its best to get your own thoughts down on paper.  Its either that or group counseling.  Write down whatever it is that bothers you – about the band, the album, the fans, each other, whatever.  Best do this than tear into each other.”

 

Joe shook his head.  “No way!  No fucking way!  I am not writing in a ‘diary’ like some teenage girl.  Here,” Joe handed his journal back to Malvin. 

 

“Ditto for me Mal,” Sav said, putting his new snowflake covered journal on top of Joe’s psychadelic one.  “I’m on edge enough as it is.  The last thing I want to do is write about it.”

 

Viv put his sunrise covered journal on top of Sav’s.  “Count me out as well.”

 

Phil added his black, silvery bubbled journal to the stack.  “Nice try Mal, but that’s just too corny for me.”

 

Rick held onto his golden-starred journal for a moment before placing it on top of the stack.  “Well, there’s one thing that we all agree on.  Sorry, Mal.”

 

Malvin took the stack of journals in his hands and dropped them to the floor.  The loud thud startled the guys.  Malvin then clapped his hands together before spreading his arms out wide.

 

“Well, that’s it for me, laddies.  Good luck on the tour.  I’m going into retirement.”

 

Joe was the first one after him.  He grabbed Malvin by the shoulders and spun him around.  “W…w…what do you mean?  You’re serious?  You’re leaving us?  Just like that?”

 

“Yep,” Malvin answered, completely unaffected by Joe’s puppy dog eyes.

 

“You can’t leave!” Sav adamantly said. 

 

“Oh, yes I can,” Malvin answered.

 

“But….but….,” Rick said.  “Who’s gonna remind me to call my mum?”

 

“Who’s gonna remind me to call my kids?” Viv asked.

 

“Who’s gonna make sure I have a fresh supply of Solo cups?” Sav asked.

 

“Who’s gonna go down to the hotel gift shop to buy me Hustler at one a.m.?” Phil asked.

 

“Who’s gonna hide them from Anita when she visits?” Joe asked.

 

Malvin regarded each and every one of them.  “Is that all I am to you?  A bleedin’ personal maid.  I’ve done everything for you lads except shake your peckers after you piss.”

 

“Well…….” Phil began to say.

 

Malvin remembered a scenario a loooong time ago and shook his head with a chuckle.  “Hmm, guess I have done everything for you.  So, with that in mind, if you don’t want me to go out that door, you’ll do this for me.  The choice is yours.”

 

The five grown men looked at each other, albeit reluctantly.  If there was one thing they did agree on was that they couldn’t do without Malvin.  They were starting this tour alone, without any wives, girlfriends or children, so they didn’t have any diversions from each other.  They really did have to learn how to cope with this sudden case of bickering and knew that Malvin was only trying to help.

 

With all that he’s done for them over the years, they couldn’t deny him this, even if it was a pain in the arse.  Each Lep leaned down and picked up their appointed journal.

 

“Fine Mal, you win,” Joe said, making a sour face at the psychadelic design.  “Man, what drug were you on when you picked these out?”

 

“I don’t know Joe,” Sav said.  “Kinda looks like those awful t-shirts you wear.”

 

Instead of retaliating with a comeback, Joe just smiled sinisterly at Sav.  “That’s okay, Savvy-boy.  I’ll hold my tongue this time.  Instead, I think I’ll make my first journal entry about you.  I’ve known you the longest so God knows that I’ll have a lot to say about you that bothers the crap out of me.”

 

“Well, than if that’s the case, I may need two journals just to write what irks me about you,” Sav retorted back at Joe.

 

“STOP!!!” Malvin said.  “Enough of the talk.  Write, gentlemen.  Write.  Perhaps venting your frustrations on paper will keep you from venting them upon each other.  And maybe….just maybe, you may reveal something you really do like about each other.  You might just rediscover the true reason you’ve stayed together all these years.

 

The five Leps looked at each other, wondering if that were possible.

 

Malvin then reminded them of the most important thing.

 

“And, remember lads.  No peeking in each others journal, got it?”

 

 

PART 2

 

One Month Later

 

The band had been doing several dates in Japan and, much to Malvin’s surprise, they’ve actually been pleasant towards one another.  He was even more surprised to find them diligently writing in their journals almost everyday.  He was pleased that his idea seemed to be working.  Sometimes you need to get your thoughts and feelings down on paper and examine them.

 

Malvin noticed a change almost within the first week.  Rick had stopped whining and complaining.  Viv’s comments were positive and complimentary rather than biting, Phil was back to his joking, rather than slamming his bandmates, Sav seemed less stressed and relaxed and Joe put a cap on his flaring temper. 

 

Malvin was seriously considering a career as a therapist after this!

 

However, it was the eerie way that the guys looked at each other while they were being so nice to each other that bothered Malvin.  “What are they really thinking?  Are they really reformed, or are they just pretending?  What are they writing in those journals about each other?”

 

Malvin knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that each bandmember was wondering the same thing.  He chuckled to himself, remembering his warning to the guys about refraining from reading someone elses journal behind their backs.  He knew as soon as he said it that it would go in one ear and out the other.  Actually, he said it on purpose, to give them the idea.  Maybe if they did read what the other really thought, good or bad, it might cause the reader to see himself through someone elses eyes and thoughts.  And, of course, the reader woudn’t be able to retaliate against the writer because it would be known that he was peeking.

 

One morning, they all enjoying a nice, leisurely, civil breakfast in the hotel dining room.  After squeezing a half a lemon in his cup of green tea, Phil suddenly got up.

 

“Damn, it’s the afternoon in the States.  I told Rory I’d call him when he got home from school.  I’m just going up to the room to ring him quickly.  I’ll be back.”

 

Phil took the elevator to the room he shared with Viv.  He then placed a call to his soon-to-be teenage son and talked with him for a few minutes.  After he hung up, he was about to leave when he saw Viv’s overnight bag in the corner, the brown, sunrise covered journal laying on top of several folded t-shirts inside the unzippered bag.

 

Phil got a wicked look on his face.  Who’d know, right?  He’s been dying to know what they guys have been writing about, especially about him.  He suddenly wondered what Viv had to say.

 

Phil bent down and picked up Viv’s journal, flipping it open to the very first page which was the first entry after their first show in Japan:

 

VC Entry, 11/17/02

 

I can’t believe I’m actually writing in this stupid thing.  Of course, I’m only doing it for Malvin.  He wants me to get my thoughts down, fine, I will.

 

The show was fabulous tonight, but that’s the only positive thing I can write about.  These guys are getting on my nerves left and right.  Oh, I’ve been keeping my trap shut when Malvin’s around, but inside I’m simmering.  All the little quirks about these guys that I never noticed over the years are really starting to annoy me.  However, Phil annoys me the most.

 

Can’t the man eat anything normal, for God’s sake?  I swear, all I want to do is pin him down and administer a Big Mac intravenously to him.  He’s so anal about every little morsel that goes into his body that I want to scream.  He drives the waitresses crazy with his ordering……   ‘you’re positive there’s no meat in it, right?’…’make sure its sugar-free’..’please don’t add any extra salt’…..’I want plain tea with milk on the side, and make sure its skim’…..’tell me, are the eggs in that omelette laid by free-range chickens?”

 

Give me a break!!!  How does Anita put up with him?  The woman deserves a place next to Mother Teresa if you ask me.  And all for what?  So he can take his shirt off during a show and show off how buff he is?  Hell, I’m just as buff as him, thinner too, but I keep my clothes on.  Man, I wish I could hot-glue his shirt to that hairy chest of his and watch his reaction when he takes it off.  Says because its so hot up there under the lights.  Yeah, sure Phil….tell me another one.  You just like the reaction you get from the women in the front row.  I guess its just his mid-life crisis and his ego needs to be stroked.  You think marrying a woman almost half his age did the trick!

 

Okay, I’ve got to stop because I’m pissing myself off.  I’ll save how I feel about everyone else for a later date.  Ha!  I can’t believe that Malvin thought this would be therapeutic.  More like homicidal.  And Phil looks at me like Hannibal Lecter looks at his next victim.  Oh wait, what am I worried about.  I forgot, Phil doesn’t eat meat.

 

That’s enough.  I’m going to sleep.

 

Phil slammed the journal closed and tossed it back in Viv’s bag.  “So, the little Irish twit is jealous of me, eh?  Hates when I take my shirt off?  And who is he to talk about hairy chests?  You can make a toupee with his chest hair!”

 

But Phil knew he couldn’t retaliate against Viv else he’d know he read his journal.    No problem.  He’d find another way.

 

 

                                                Part 3

 

Next Night

 

Their third show in Japan again went well.  Phil especially had a hoot at Viv’s ignorant expense.

 

Halfway through the show, Phil unbuttoned his thin, white cotton shirt and slowly stripped it off, looking at Viv the entire time.  Phil then took his discarded shirt and arrogantly twirled it around his head before tossing it on the platform of Rick’s drumkit.  He kept his eyes on Viv as he puffed his chest out and stretched his arms over his head, showing off his buff chest to the max.  Viv just rolled his eyes at looked away.

 

Suck it, Campbell,” Phil muttered to himself.

 

However, Phil and Viv weren’t the only ones silently battling.  Rick sat at his drum kit as Joe went into a little verbal montage with the crowd.  He impatiently tapped his drumstick against his thigh, waiting for Joe to finally stop talking.  All he does it talk, talk, talk,” Rick thought to himself.

 

Before Rick let his long supressed temper get the best of him, he grasped the pendant around his neck and began reciting some calming prayers.  He noticed how Joe would roll his eyes whenever he did that.  Doesn’t Joe know that this has been a healing thing for him after all he’d went through?  Joe never verbally dissed him for it, but Rick suddenly wondered what Joe really felt about it. 

 

Hmmm, only one way to find out,” Rick thought.

 

After meeting with fans after the show, the guys got on the tour bus and headed out to the next city.  Everyone was too wired to go to sleep, so they instead just sat in the bus – all far away from each other, and either read, listened to some music with headphones on or watched the telly mounted on the ceiling of the bus.

 

Rick saw Joe nod off in his seat and silently slipped in the back to his bunk.  He first lit a small stick of incense to meditate.  He closed his eyes, breathed deeply and began to cleanse his mind of all negativity and anger.  Once done, he crept into Joe’s bunk and found his bag on the floor.  He rummaged through it and found his journal.  The hideous, eye-straining design nearly jumped out at him.

 

“Damn, I’m gonna need glasses just looking at this,” Rick muttered.

 

Rick then opened the journal and winced at Joe’s maniacal scribbling.

 

“I’m really gonna need glasses,” he uttered under his breath before finding Joe’s first entry.  With a sense of inner peace calming him, he began to read.

 

11/18/02 – Entry by JTE

 

What the fuck am I supposed to write about?  All I know how to write is songs, not my feelings.  What do I know about my feelings, except they’re there?  I don’t want to write about them.  I’m not some bloody woman.  Write about my feelings, ha!  Whats next?  Watching movies like ‘Waiting to Exhale’ and ‘Beaches’?  I’ll slit my wrists first.

 

However, I’d sooner succumb to watching a chick flick than having to endure Allen’s fucking meditation rituals.  I’m ready to puke from the smell of incense.  This is a tour bus, not some sacrificial alter.  Why the hell doesn’t he just shave his head, wrap himself in a sheet and take off to Tibet?

 

How the hell does that shit calm him?  Just watching him makes me want to bash him with a cymbol.  All that humming and praying and chanting and searching and cleansing and pissing and moaning.  Now I know why disgruntled people who work in post offices in the States shoot each other, espcially if they have co-workers like Rick ‘Ghandi’ Allen!

 

Well, at least I’m grateful he stopped his bloody whining.  He still acts like he’s fucking fifteen years old sometimes.  And whats this jealousy crap?  I never thought of him as a lowly drummer.  Crikey, you give a guy a job that makes him a teenage rock star and this is how he repays you?  We’d be nowhere if I didn’t push these guys.  And this is the thanks I get from him?  He’s lucky I didn’t stick a peace candle up his ass.

 

Man, did I just write all that?  I’m sorry I did because now I’m even angrier than I was before.  Well, at least writing about Rick made me forget how much I want to wrap that Union Jack bass around Sav’s neck.  I better save a few pages for him.  Hell, I might even snag some of Rick’s incense to meditate myself before I write about Sav. 

 

What?  Did I just consider meditating?  Oh, man I better stop before I scare myself.  I need a cigarette.  I need a shot of Jack Daniels.  I need to get laid, is what I need.  Maybe I’ll call Bobbie for some phone sex. 

 

Phone sex?  Did I just write that too?  Oh God, I’m pathetic.  But at least not as pathetic as Allen.     The End  (finally)

 

Rick abruptly closed Joe’s journal and immediately wanted to shove a peace candle up his ass.  Better still, he’d rather snake Joe’s pecker with a lit stick of incense.  He couldn’t believe Joe felt this way about his meditation.  It was the one thing he finally found that helped him to control his anger and thought the guys were behind him.  Joe especially.  Did they all feel that way?

 

Rick didn’t have time to sneak into anyone elses journals.  Instead, he took his lit stick of incense and wafted it all around Joe’s bunk before closing the door, locking the sickening sweet scent in.

 

Rick then laid down on his bed and smiled himself to sleep.

 

Sweet dreams, Joe,” he muttered with a smile.

 

                                      Part 4

 

Next Afternoon

 

The band was winding up sound check and each decided to take in some sights for a spell before heading back to the hotel to rest before the show.

 

Sav was eyeing Joe with an evil look before he saw Malvin watch him do so.  Sav then retracted with a sweet smile and walked up to Joe.

 

“Sounded good mate,” he said with all the sincerity he could muster.

 

Joe looked at him bewildered.  “Uh, thanks.  You….you thought so?  I woke up this morning with a raw throat.  I thought I sounded like crap.”

 

“No, you sounded fine,” Sav replied, loud enough for Malvin to hear.  “Never better.”

 

Joe wasn’t sure what to make of Sav’s compliment, but decided to take it.  “Thanks.”

 

“Well, I’m outta here,” Sav said.  “Gonna check out that little sushi place across from the hotel before I head back.”

 

“Sav, no raw fish before the show,” Malvin chided.  “The last thing I want to do is rush you off to the emergency room to get your stomach pumped.”

 

“Hmm, at least someone cares about me,” Sav said silently to himself.

 

“What was that?” Joe said after him.

 

“Nothing.  Later.”

 

Joe stared after him, suddenly feeling a bit guilty about wanting to write bad things about Sav in his journal.  He just calmed himself down from writing about Rick, but Sav’s non-chalance about everything was pissing him off too. 

 

He thought about the compliment Sav just gave him and wondered if it was an act, since Malvin was standing right there.  What did he really think?

 

Knowing that Sav would be stuffing himself with sushi for a while, Joe quickly headed back to the hotel.  He shared a room with Sav if only out of habit.  He knew he shouldn’t snoop, but hell, when did he ever listen to what he was told?

 

Joe unzipped Sav’s carry-on bag and saw his snowflake covered journal.  He opened the cover and a picture fell out.  It was a picture of Tyler and Scott.  Joe had to grin, since Sav was such a sap for his kids.

 

He held the picture in place and scanned Sav’s first entry.  Nothing really interesting, only that he missed Paige and the kids.

 

What a weenie he is,” Joe thought to himself.  “C’mon Sav, can’t you write anything interesting?”

 

Joe then turned to Sav’s last entry and immediately got his wish.

 

RS Entry #2 – 11/18/02

 

Did I actually give up a career in soccer for this shit?  Is it too late?

 

Of course its too late.  I’m gonna be 42 years old next month, who am I kidding.  Maybe I can get a coaching job for Wednesday?

 

Yeah, I can just see it now.  “Um, Paige honey, I’m quitting the band and becoming a soccer coach.  We’ve got plenty of money.  If not, my mum can take care of the kids while you go back to modeling (she does has the cutest little toes!)”

 

Quit the band?  I’ve never thought of quitting the band.  But Joe has pushed me farther than I care to admit.  He’s lucky I don’t have the temper he has else we’d really physically hurt each other.  Perhaps I’ve been inhaling too much of Allen’s incense (I’ll get to that later!).

 

What was I thinking back in 1977 when I thought he could sing?  I was probably blinded by the fact that it was either that or have him as our guitarist.  And we all know that Joe cannot play the guitar!  I rue the day he missed that bus and ran into Pete.  I’ve just had it with his pushiness.  And its only gotten worse with age. 

 

Why did I hang around this long?  Who is he to say I have no backbone?  Why, because I don’t jump down everyone’s throat like he does?  Oh, we’ve had our share of arguments, but most times I just give in because I just don’t want the strife.  I just want to play, that’s all.  Is that too much to ask?

 

As far as Joe doing the interviews with Phil, that’s fine by me.  Let Phil deal with him.  I just don’t have the patience anymore.  Thank God I moved back to Sheffield!  As far as I’m concerned, Ireland can have Joe Elliott all to itself.  Bobbie deserves to be on a pedestal for putting up with him for almost 7 years.  Hell, I should be cannonized a saint for putting up with him for more than 25!

 

Does Malvin really think writing about each other is supposed to make things better?  I think he’s been watching Oprah too much.  All this venting about how I feel about Joe only makes me feel worse.  Why do I even still room with him?  Habit possibly.

 

My only consolation is this tour, even though the company I’m in is making my skin itch.  God, I miss my kids!

 

Joe snapped Sav’s journal closed.  Okay, Joe knew he couldn’t argue with the fact that he is a bit forward, but pushy?

 

And what’s this about not thinking he could sing?  Like Sav could!  He knew that compliment was phony.

 

Sav quit the band and be a soccer coach?  In his dreams!  Then again, Wednesday could use all the help it could get!

 

And talk about putting up with who? Little did Sav know that he wasn’t exactly the easiest person to be around.

 

“Ha, I rejoiced when he moved back to Sheffield!” Joe thought to himself.

 

Seems the only thing they did agree on was rooming out of habit.  Joe had the right mind to pack up his stuff and go room with one of the other guys.  But he couldn’t stand any of them right now either.  Sav was the lesser of the four evils right now.

 

Joe laid on his bed for a nap, dreaming of Sav getting his sushi-filled stomach pumped!

 

 

                                                Part 5

11/22/02

Yokohama, Japan

 

 

Sound check was, again, a quiet, civil affair.  However, it wasn’t without a series of inventive little digs that left the receipient of them a little clueless.

 

Phil looked at Viv sitting on Rick’s platform and smiled sweetly at him.  “Aye Viv, could you please hand me my soy protein drink right over there?”

 

Viv looked down at the sports bottle with the nastly looking stuff in it, picked it up and walked it over to Phil.  Phil acknowledged him by saluting his bottle and taking a long sip of the sandy brown liquid.

 

“Mmm, mmm, nothing like soy protein to do a body good,” Phil continued to jibe.  “You don’t get a body like this by abusing it with garbage.”

 

Viv made a face as Phil took a long sip.  “Yeah, but Phil you don’t have to go overboard.  I’m a strict vegen too, but damn…..do you have to go so far as to drink that disgusting stuff?”

 

“Ah, but this disgusting stuff is what keeps this glorious hair on my chest,” Phil said with a mischievous grin.

 

Viv looked at him a little weird, wondering why his comments rang a bell, especially the one about the chest hair.  He then remembered he made mention of it in his journal.  His journal!

“Phil wouldn’t have read my journal, would he?  Especially with Malvin specifically stating we don’t peek.  Yeah, like any of us listen to Malvin!”

 

Since Phil wasn’t acting overly hostile, Viv just brushed it off.    “Yeah, well, whatever,” Viv said, walking away.

 

Phil just stared after him.  “I’ll teach you to make fun of my regime,” he quietly muttered.

 

Meanwhile, Rick was tapping on a cymbol with his drumstick while wickedly grinning at Joe, who looked a bit fatigued.

 

“You okay Joe?” Rick called to him.

 

Joe looked up at Rick’s question.  “Yeah, why?”

 

Rick shrugged.  “Nothing.  You just look tired.  Having trouble sleeping or something?”

 

“Maybe a little,” Joe replied.

 

“Well, if you want, I’ll give you one of my peace candles.  I have this tangerine and teakwood scented candle that’s perfect for relaxation.  The citrus cleanses the senses while the teakwood relaxes.  It may help you relax.”

 

Joe looked at Rick warily, wondering why he was suddenly offering him one his blasted candles, especially after he finished griping about it in his journal.

 

“Um, I don’t think so Rick,” Joe managed to say politely.  “Those things make me sneeze.   Thanks anyway.”

 

“Well, if not I have this book of old wise sayings that cause you to do some serious reflection.  Wanna borrow it?”

 

Again, Joe looked at Rick, who had a smug, knowing look on his face. 

 

“No, Rick I don’t think so,” Joe said politely. 

 

“It may help you sleep better,” Rick continued to jibe him.

 

“Yeah, by boring me probably,” Joe thought.  “Thanks, but no thanks.  I’m just gonna take some Excedrin PM tonight.”

 

Rick got up to get some water.  “Well, let me know if you need anything.  I’m well stocked with relaxation products.”

 

Joe’s eyes followed Rick as he got up and walked away, wondering what the hell brought that on.  Rick never offered those things to him before, why now all of a sudden.  How ironic that he just wrote in his journal about how much he hated the stuff.  Or…..

 

“He didn’t read my journal, did he?”

 

Joe tried to remember what he wrote and realized that it was pretty crude and forward.  Malvin told him to write about anything that irked him, and this did.  He also told everyone not to peek.

 

“Who am I kidding?” Joe thought.  “I just read Sav’s journal yesterday, so who am I to criticize Rick for reading mine, if that’s what he did.”

 

Joe then decided not to give it anymore thought.  Just then, Malvin came up to him.  “Hey, I just found out that the promoter’s son plays soccer at the local university.  Since we don’t have to be in Tokyo till the 25th, why don’t we coordinate a game with them tomorrow?  Let off some steam.”

 

Before Joe could answer, Sav overheard and immediately joined.  “I think that’s a brilliant idea.  I think we can all use the diversion.”

 

Without looking at Sav, Joe clapped Malvin on the back.  “Well, there’s your answer, Mal.  Guess you don’t need my opinion.  Let coach Savage here set it up.”

 

Joe then grabbed his accoustic and went to sit down to strum, Sav’s bewildered eyes following him.

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

Joe looked up at Sav standing there looking quite dumbfounded.  “Oh, nothing.  I just know how much you like soccer.  You know we always let you be captain since you did play professionally for two years way back when.  That’s all.  You guys set it up.  I’m just gonna sit her and play the guitar a bit…..since I need all the practice I can get.”

 

Sav bit his lip, wondering what caused Joe to give in so easily.  He then brushed it aside, thankful for it, and shrugged his shoulders.  However, Malvin wasn’t fooled by Joe’s easy behavior.

 

“Don’t you want in on this, Joseph?”

 

Joe didn’t even look up from playing and shook his head.  “Nah, that’s okay.   You guys do it.  These Japanese college boys may think I’m too pushy.”

 

Sav tilted his head to one side and regarded Joe, who glanced his eyes up at him to gage his reaction.  Something crossed through Sav’s mind – something about a journal entry he made about Joe being pushy. And…..and the coach reference.  And……Joe’s guitar playing.

 

“Did that wanker read my journal?” Sav thought.  “Or is this just a coincidence?”

 

Sav then conceded that if Joe did read his journal, he wouldn’t be acting as calmly as he did.  He wrote some pretty irate things about Joe, but hell, he was so frustrated that he had to get it down on paper just to get it off his chest.  Although he felt a bit bad, he couldn’t deny how he really felt.  He just decided to shrug it off and looked forward to an enjoyable game of footie tomorrow.

 

 

                                                PART 6

 

 

Next Morning

11/23/02

 

The guys finally had a diversion to break the tension between them.  Although they were happy about the upcoming soccer excursion, there was still some underlying uneasiness in the air. 

 

Rick wasn’t as excited as the rest of them about the soccer game, but went along because he had nothing better do.  Seems everytime Sav mentioned the game, Rick would just roll his eyes and Sav was picking up on it.  It was nothing new.  There was a lot of eye rolling, nasty faces and snide comments in the last several months – even after getting their feelings and thoughts down on paper.

 

Since they were leaving for the game right from breakfast, Sav realized he couldn’t play in his glasses and decided to put his contacts in for the game only.  He excused himself and went up to his room.

 

Before he put his contacts in, he searched for some eyedrops, which he didn’t have.  He knew that Malvin had some.  Since his room had a connecting door to the room that Malvin shared with Rick, Sav went in and found the eyedrops on the counter in the bathroom.  After using the, he put his contacts in, then blinked several times to set them.

 

On his way out, he saw something sticking out from under a magazine on one of the nightstands.  Sav picked up the magazine and found Rick’s navy blue, golden-starred journal. 

 

Sav made a face when he remembered how much Rick whined when he was stuck with the snowflake covered journal and offered to switch, giving Rick his with the gold stars on it.  His generosity only to got him an insult from Rick.

 

“Whiny, unappreciative little drummer boy,” Sav murmured as he toyed with the idea of taking a peek.  He knew the others were waiting for him, but the temptation was too much.  Sav wondered if Rick had anything else derogatory to say about him.

 

Sav picked up the journal and turned it to the entry that Rick obviously made last night.

 

11/22/02 – Entry by RJCA

 

Great show tonight.  Looking forward to a three day break before we head to Tokyo.  However, I am NOT crazy about this soccer game tomorrow.  But, as usual….no one bothers to ask me what I think or what I want.  And, when it comes to soccer, if Sav’s not in charge…..look out!

 

The bloke played for United for two years when he was a teenager!  That’s supposed to make him Captain ‘Know-It-All’?  If he knew it all, perhaps he should give some pointers to his precious Wednesday, since they suck the big one. 

 

You think after 25 years I’d be numbed by it, but I’m not.  I’m just so sick and tired of all the same tasks fall to the same people.  Well, I guess I can’t complain about everything.  At least I was allowed input on the songwriting for this album.  Bet it shocked a lot of fans to see my name on the songwriting credits.  I’m not some figure stuck in the back after all.

 

I don’t want to play tomorrow, I just don’t.  But, I have to.  If I don’t, it’ll look bad.  I hate being forced to do things, I really do.  And, of course, Captain Savage will be dishing out his brilliant strategy all afternoon.

 

If only the fans knew what he really was like.  They think he’s so quiet and laid back.  Quiet, my left nut!  Get a magnum of chablis into him and he’s anything but.  Can’t hold his alcohol the way he used too when he was younger.

 

He’s so competitive that he turns into someone totally different.   Rick Savage, ha!  More like Randy Savage if you ask me.  He actually makes Joe look pleasant and that’s a lot for me to say considering that I found out what Joe really thinks about me.

 

That’s it.  I can’t write anymore.  I made a promise to myself that when I get like this, that I have to stop….breath deep and cleanse my thoughts.  Since Malvin is downstairs, I’m gonna light my sandlewood candle and listen to my Aztec chant CD.  Hopefully Malvin doesn’t feel the same way about my candles as Joe does. 

 

Tough!

 

Sav slowly closed the journal with an astonished look on his face.  He didn’t know what bothered him more – that Rick felt this way about his enthusiasm towards soccer, or that Rick felt he was worse than Joe!

 

No one could be worse than Joe, even if he was acting very compliant the last two days. 

 

Speaking of Joe, what were these comments Rick made about him? How did Rick find these things out?  As crass as Joe could be, Sav never heard Joe complain to Rick about his meditation practices.  It seems as if Rick just found this out recently.  Could……could Rick have looked in Joe’s journal and discovered it?

 

Sav was beginning to think it was possible.  Hell, he was standing here snooping himself!  He’d have to hide his journal better, just in case.

 

And what were all these cracks about Rick being allowed to contribute to the songwriting?  He was never disallowed.  He just always chose to leave the songwriting up to the rest of the guys. You think after 25 years that he’d speak up if he felt this way!

 

Seems Rick’s complaining didn’t actually stop, he only transferred it on paper. 

 

“So, he thinks I’m some Nazi general on the soccer field, eh?  Fine!  He doesn’t want to play to day?  Good!  I’m gonna make him wish he actually did sit the game out.  I’ll work that whiny-ass attitude right out of him!”

 

As Sav left the room, he chuckled thinking how Rick compared him to WWF’s Randy Savage.  He then thought about bodyslamming Rick.  Especially for that comment he made about Wednesday……even if they did suck the big one!

  

                                               

Part 7

 

 

Later that Night

11/23/02

 

The soccer game with the Japanese college students helped the guys let off some steam, but it did nothing for their disposition towards one another.  Rick was sarcastically sweet to Joe, Joe was standoffish with Sav, Phil kept digging at Viv and Sav had a field day knocking into Rick during the game.  Sure he’d be a little sore tonight, but he didn’t care.  Serves Rick right for dissing him in his journal like that!

 

That night, five men went five separate ways to get something for dinner.  They all inwardly missed the times when they all be together, hating the lonliness of it, but they still weren’t up to tolerating each other’s company.

 

Viv, however, opted to stay in and get some room service and watch some cable, glad to have the room to himself since Phil was heading out to walk around town a bit.

 

Viv was puzzled over Phil’s unusual behavior towards him, especially the sarcastic digs at him.  It only confirmed what he griped about Phil in his journal.

 

The journal!  Phil’s journal!

 

Viv knew he’d find his answer, if any, in Phil’s journal.  He then remembered Malvin’s charge not to peek, then immediately cast it aside.

 

I’m not twelve years old and Mal’s not my mum,” Viv said to himself.

 

Viv hopped off the bed from where he was laying and immediately began rummaging through Phil’s bags without an ounce of guilt.  At the bottom of his suitcase, wrapped in a t-shirt, then further wrapped in a pair of sweats, was Phil’s black journal covered with silver bubbles.  Viv grinned at his discover.

 

“So, think you could hide this so well, eh Philip?”

 

Like a young boy who discovered his dad’s Playboy, Viv went to the door and slid on the latch, just in case Phil returned, then flopped back on the bed with Phil’s journal.  He immediately flipped to the last entry and read:

 

 

PKC Entry – 11/22/01:

 

Is it time to go home yet? 

 

Did we really need to play eight bloody shows in Japan?  Thank God we’ve got two days off before we head to Tokyo.  But first, I’ve got to endure a soccer game tomorrow, not to mention my ‘teammates’.  Joe’s hard-ass attitude’s probably gonna send those little college boys crying to their mum’s.  Sav’s gonna be on his high horse, Rick’s probably gonna whine and Viv……..oh, don’t get me started there!

 

Now that I know what that Irish bugger thinks about me, I’m gonna make him regret it.  He’s lucky I don’t have Joe’s temper, else I’d flatten him.  However, I’m having more fun having fun with him.  Serves him right.  He just better stay on his own side of the stage, else I’ll give him more to complain about.

 

I’d lace into the other guys right now, but I’m just too damned relaxed to do so.  I should have a lovely Geisha girl give me a full body rubdown everynight!  A hell of a lot more relaxing than that bloody incense that Allen lights.  Oh, right.  I wasn’t gonna get into them.  I’ll save it for another time.

 

All I can say is that Malvin’s idea to write our thoughts down to better cope with them is a complete waste.  Unless things get better, how the hell am I gonna get through the rest of this tour?  If it was summer, at least I could have Rory with me.  Okay, Anita too, but then I’d have to behave!  At least I’d have guaranteed sex every night and wouldn’t have to room with Viv anymore.  Being onstage with him is enough.

 

I hope this situation gets better quick, or else………….nevermind.

 

Viv closed Phil’s journal with that last sentence lingering on his mind.  Or else what?

 

He then brushed it aside as he recounted Phil’s comments about him, wondering what Phil meant when he wrote ‘now that I know what that Irish bugger thinks about me’.  What did Phil mean by that?  What did he find out……?

 

Viv’s mouth suddenly dropped.  “Did that bastard read my journal?”

 

He had to have!  Then again, Viv couldn’t fault Phil for that, since he was sitting on the bed with Phil’s journal in his own hands. 

 

Well, at least he and Phil agreed on something.  That they get on each other’s nerves.  Hell, all the guys have been this way with each other.  He also thought about Phil’s remark about Malvin’s plan to write in the journals in an effort to stop bickering.  So far, with 4 shows left in Japan and an entire tour ahead of them, Viv, too, wondered if it were possible.

 

Viv didn’t think too much on it as he carefully put Phil’s journal back where he found it.  He’d get back at Phil somehow.

 

Maybe by planting a Hustler magazine in full view in Phil’s room when Anita visits!

 

 

                                                Part 8

 

11/26/02

Tokyo, Japan

 

The band was in sound check preparing for their second to last show that they’d perform here in Japan before heading back home and going their separate ways.  At least for a while.

 

The stress of having to endure each other’s quirks, comments and just plain presence had taken its toll.  And, dipping into each others journals didn’t help the cause either.  Once they found out what was really thought of them, it only firmed their resolve to dig in deeper out of spite.

 

After sound check, they were about to all, again, go in different directions till the show this evening, when the lead singer of the young American band who was opening up for them caught up with them onstage.  He and the rest of his band were hanging in the auditorium, watching Def Leppard’s sound check and waiting for it to come to an end. 

 

The young man approached Joe first.  “Hey Joe,” he said. “Um…do you mind if me and the guys have a quick word with all of you?”

 

Joe smiled at the impressionable young man, glad for the pleasant diversion to cut through the stress of soundcheck.

 

“Sure, Dave,” Joe replied before reluctantly calling the rest of the guys back.  Each one rolled their eyes, wanting nothing more right now than to get out of there.  However, to save face, they all walked back towards Joe.

 

“What’s up?” Phil asked as he joined the group.

 

“Well, actually, its us,” Dave said as he motioned to his three bandmates next to him.  “Even though we’ve got two more shows left with you guys, we just want to say what an honor it is playing with you.  We’ve been waiting for a more private opportunity to tell you, but there never seems to be one.  We’ve been watching your sound check every afternoon, waiting to talk to you afterwards, but you seem to all disappear so quick.”

 

Each Lep looked a little uneasy at that remark, knowing the real reason they all left so soon after soundcheck.  But now was not the time to tell this young band that it was because they didn’t want to bear each other’s presence any longer than they had to.

 

“Well thanks for the compliment Dave,” Sav said, trying not to make their uneasiness apparent.  “You lads are a fine group and have been a pleasure to have around.”

 

“Unlike some people,” Joe very quietly murmured. 

 

“What?” Dave asked.

 

Joe bit his tongue and was about to answer when Rick cut in.  “As nice as it is to see the old fans who’ve followed us since the 80’s, it really pleases us to see a nice young crop as well.”

 

“Well, you’ve got our parents to thank for that,” Billy, the young band’s drummer said.  “We like listening to the older stuff as well as the new.  I know you’ve got to go with the times now with your newer stuff, but I gotta say……Pyromania kicked ass!  I still listen to it to this day.”

 

Phil smirked.  “Well, that’s good to hear.  Its refreshing when we know that our music’s influenced younger bands.”

 

“Well, it was more than just your music,” Keith, the bass player said.  “It was your story as well.”

 

“How so?” Sav asked.

 

“Well,” Dave began.  “We got together as teenagers, just like you guys.  We weren’t as hungry in the beginning.  It wasn’t until we hit our twenties that we realized that we gotta make something of this band, or just go nowhere.”

 

“But, we had a major problem,” Billy added.  “By the time we had made a decision to go forward seriously, we absolutely couldn’t stand the sight of each other.”

 

Each Lep deeply sighed, knowing the feeling all too well.

 

Viv then folded his arms and addressed Dave.  “So, how did you lads cope with it?”

 

“Well, it was hard in the beginning.  We fought all the time.  We couldn’t agree on anything, except that we were getting sick of each other.  We thought that our love of music and success of the band would be enough to keep us together, but it wasn’t.  We didn’t have that…..brotherhood that we had when we first got together.  But, something happened that brought it all back into perspective.”

 

“What was that?” Rick asked.

 

“We saw your Behind The Music segment,” Keith said.  “It practically changed our lives.”

 

For the first time in a long time, all five Leps willingly looked at each other and held each others eyes for a few moments before Dave began to speak again.

 

“We always knew your story, you know…..Rick’s accident, Steve’s death, delayed album recordings..….but we never knew what you guys individually went through during that time and how you coped with it.”

 

“After we saw that,” Paul, the guitarist finally spoke.  “it was like a wake up call.  I mean, here we were, on the verge of breaking up over petty nonsense, whereas you guys dealt with so much worse.  Not only did you cope with it, but you stayed together.”

 

“The one part that really stood out was when Phil said about how you guys are a family, and that you grew up together,” Keith said.

 

“And the part where Joe said that there have definitely been more good times than bad,” Billy added.  “And Sav saying how you’ve definitely overcame a lot together.  That was the key word……together.”

 

Each Lep stared down at the floor, as feelings of foolishness of their own flooded them.  They were a family.  They did grow up together.  They did overcome a lot…..together.  And they did it successfully for 25 years.  And here they all were, on the verge of wanting to chuck it all away because of petty bickering and squabbling.

 

“I guess, what we really want to say to you guys,” Dave said.  “is….thank you.  If it weren’t for you and your inspiring story, we wouldn’t be here right now.  Thank you.”

 

Joe glanced at the rest of the guys and was able to read their faces like a bold type newspaper.  He knew exactly what they were thinking, for it was the same thing he was thinking.  Joe then turned to Dave.

 

“No lad…….thank you!”

 

                                                Part 9

 

After that enlightening conversation with their young, opening band, the Leps stood there for a moment staring at each other before they went off in their own direction.  They’ve known each other well enough to know that it wasn’t time to talk yet.  Instead, they each needed time alone to reflect on what they just discovered.  And perhaps…..write it down in their journals.

 

What they discovered from their opening act’s praise didn’t just open their eyes, it reflected in their performance.  They absolutely, positively rocked!  They were so in synch with one another, it was as if nothing had ever been wrong.  For the first time in a long time, there were happy smiling faces on stage, and not just smiling at the crowd.  The guys looked as if they were enjoying being up onstage performing with one another.

 

After the last show the following night, when they each had some alone time, they made what they hoped to be the final entry in their respective journals.

 

JTE Entry – 11/27/02

 

Well, it looks like things are back to normal, and for good, I hope.  I never want to go through that kind of tension again.  It was so thick that I wouldn’t have been able to cut it with an ax!

 

Who’d have thought that it would take a bunch of young pups to make us open our eyes and see that we’ve been behaving like a bunch of fucking old ladies?  I know there are times that our individual quirks bother the hell out of each other, but is Rick’s burning incense and chanting really worth considering  possibly making this the end of our career?

 

If anything, I should thank God that he’d found something relaxing to help him deal with his temper.  It destroyed his marriage, I don’t want to see it destroy him.  That guy’s been through too much in our career and I know for a fact that I’d go into battle with any guy who came back to play the drums six months after losing a fucking arm.

 

I really want to rip the pages out of this journal where I wrote all that crap, but I’d rather keep it there as a reminder of how stupid I once was.  And…I do mean once!

 

 

RS Entry – 11/27/02

 

All I can think about is that lad quoting what I said in the BTM segment.  I meant it back then, and I still mean it now…..we DID overcome a lot together.  Why should this be different?

 

I mean, I’ve put up with Joe’s brashness all this time.  I guess I should be immune to it.  But what I failed to remember is that he can be just the opposite at just the right time.  Hell, we went through our divorces at the same time.  Thank God we had each other to lean on, since my family was so far away.  Of all the times I couldn’t stand to be around him, I forgot how there were times when I needed to be around him.  He helped me over a lot of rough spots.  He had a way of making me forget what was bothering me and keep me focused.

 

I can’t believe that I would ever consider quitting the band.  I’ve been in it since I was 17 – its all I know.  Oh, maybe in the heat of the moment I would’ve foolishly done it, only to go crawling back on my hands and knees the next day, begging to be taken back.

 

Okay, so it is better than soccer!

 

 

VC Entry 11/27/02

 

Those lads really hit a nerve in us yesterday.  I could see it on all the other’s faces.  Even though I wasn’t around when they suffered all that, I still know the stories, which they’ve all shared with me.

 

How could I forget that?  That they did share personal things with me?  That they accepted me?  Phil, especially.  He lost his best friend, and I was brought into replace him.  Phil could’ve shunned me.  Instead, he accepted me as part of this band – they all did!

 

I have so much to be thankful for.  I’ve lasted ten years with this band, which is longer than any other band I was with.  They gave me a home and, yes, a family.  They never made me felt like I didn’t belong.  How quickly I forgot that?

 

I’m almost sorry that tonight was the last show.  I only wish that we realized this sooner, else we could’ve enjoyed Japan together.

 

At least we’ve got the tour coming up.  And I’m happy to report, I can’t wait!

 

 

RJCA Entry – 11/27/02

 

Am I the biggest wanker or what?

 

I can’t believe that I actually whined like a tempermental little boy!  Did I actually complain about my original journal because it had snowflakes on it?  Did I sink that low?

 

And did I actually diss Sav, even after he was nice enough to exchange journals, as whiny as I was?  He didn’t have to do that.  Someone else would’ve knocked me into next week for the way I acted, but that isn’t his nature.  So, he gets a little rambunctious on the soccer field, so what?  He loves the game.  We all do!  Its brought him a lot of joy during moments of heartache.

 

And so does the band.  Its been my first and only job, and it will also be my last.  As bad as it gets sometimes, I know there’s no place I’d rather be than with these guys.  Through good times and bad and, like Joe said, there’s definitely been more good.

 

 

PKC Entry – 11/27/02

 

Well, guess I won’t have to make that drastic decision after all.  I can’t believe I even considered it in the first place!

 

We’ve been through worse than this….much, much worse.  We could’ve found another drummer.  But no, we hung on and waited for Rick.  And, as much as I was the one who least wanted to go on after Steve died, I knew that the band couldn’t die with him.  And….we had to function as a five piece.

 

I have no reason to complain about Viv.  He came in as a virtual outsider, knowing the pressure he’d be under and the possible heat he’d get from fans who loved Steve.  But, he endured.  Why…because we rallied around him.  Because we are a family.  Families aren’t perfect – they fight and bicker all the time, but its how you cope with diversity that reflects the success of that family.

 

And, judging from what we’ve been through, I’d say we’re gonna be successful for a very long time!

 

 

In another room, Malvin lay in bed, glad that the animosity between the band had come to an end.  He doesn’t know what happened or if it was writing in the journals that helped them.  All he knows is that there was an easy air about the guys since soundcheck the day before, not to mention their last two performances were smashing.

 

Whatever it was, it was  gone.  Oh, it may come back, but at least he knew it wouldn’t be for long.  He knew he never would’ve walked out on these guys for good. He was just as much part of the family, but they needed an eye opener.

 

Call it tough love!