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thepermanentrainpress · 2 years

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CONCERT REVIEW: ROGER WATERS AT ROGERS ARENA - SEPTEMBER 15TH, 2022

There are few artists with the longevity, influence, and success of Roger Waters and his former band Pink Floyd. They’ve sold hundreds of millions of records worldwide. The Dark Side of the Moon has spent almost a thousand weeks on the Billboard charts. Fifty years later, it continues to be re-released and enjoyed by listeners of all ages.

Although Pink Floyd has gone through several iterations, Roger Waters is arguably the name and face of the group. He was present as bassist from the very beginning in 1965 with Syd Barrett as frontman. After David Gilmour joined and Syd departed due to his mental health, Roger took over singing and songwriting. Naturally, the rest is history. After their most successful and acclaimed era, Roger left the group in 1985. Gilmour remains active with Pink Floyd. Both parties have settled lawsuits, toured the band’s material, and even done a couple of one-off reunion shows since. Nevertheless, the departure remained permanent.

Waters has kept busy. He’s done several global tours in the last twenty years, including playing the entirety of The Dark Side of the Moon and The Wall. Roger’s most recent solo album, Is This the Life We Really Want? (accompanied by the Us + Them Tour), was released in 2017. With a career spanning six decades, the 2022 “This Is Not A Drill” tour demonstrated Roger Waters is every bit the artist and performer he was in the 1970s. If anything, modern technology and global events have only increased his passion, energy, and stage presence for the music and message. Originally set to kick off in 2020, the tour was delayed two years due to the global pandemic. Between this and Roger being 79 years young, I (and I’m sure much of the audience) felt very lucky to be there that night indeed.

Roger Waters is famous – or perhaps infamous – for his activism. Just before the show started, a personal message was displayed: “If you’re one of those people who says I love Pink Floyd but I can’t stand Roger’s politics, please kindly fuck off to the bar now.” Throughout the show, it was clear Roger minces no words in his themes and imagery. Almost every song featured videos, captions, and highlights of uncomfortable facts relating to human rights and injustice. The messaging was certainly not subtle and likely divisive, but it’s his show and I don’t know what else could have been expected. Live experience aside, much of Pink Floyd and Roger’s solo lyrics contain explicit political themes. The world has changed, but the music’s messaging is perhaps more relevant than ever.

It was a 360-degree stage in the middle of the arena – enough to accompany a full band running around, giving everyone a great view of the visuals and group no matter where you were sitting. This was the first time Waters had used a 360-degree stage and it was a fantastic choice.

I wasn’t sure what the setlist would be like – how it would be structured, the amount of and specific Pink Floyd material featured... We were delighted as the lights dimmed and the music immediately launched into “Comfortably Numb” – one of Pink Floyd’s most popular radio songs, with one hell of a guitar solo. This was accompanied by projections of a dystopian city—vast, empty, decrepit buildings and mindless citizens walking through. While we could hear Roger singing clearly, all we could see was a guitarist in silhouette.

As the song ended, Roger and the band lit up on stage to applause. He launched into “The Happiest Days of Our Lives,” a track off The Wall about the horrors of English boarding school abuse. This segued into “Another Brick In The Wall” (Part 2, followed by Part 3) – another radio classic and also a ballad of British school experiences. There’s something very fun about singing “Hey! Teacher! Leave them kids alone!” in an arena with 17,000 other fans.

From here Roger went into his 1987 solo track “The Powers That Be” – one of the most disturbing and serious songs of the evening. As the title suggests, this is an anti-authoritarian, anti-elite song warning us of the power of the state. Much more intense than the lyrics were the visuals – anonymous CGI figures being beaten bloody and repeatedly shot by equally anonymous police and soldiers. The segment also featured photos and captions of real victims from all around the world killed by the state. (“Crime: being out after curfew. Punishment: death. Crime: being Black. Punishment: death. Crime: being Indigenous. Punishment: death.”) In the wake of increased security powers, George Floyd’s death/the protests that followed, and an overly divided sociopolitical climate, this was a harsh and rough message. In an even more controversial statement, Roger had pictures of every US president since Reagan, calling them war criminals and detailing their acts of mass murder. The violent and upsetting imagery may have been too much for some people there, but I’m not surprised Roger chose this messaging and I respect him using the platform to do so.

In a more intimate and calm approach, Roger sat at a piano and told the audience stories for 10 minutes before playing another song. He spoke of his last time in Vancouver in October 2017 – a time he remembered because of a talk he gave in a church here about Palestine and human rights. Roger is a well-known supporter of the Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions (BDS) movement against Israel in response to Palestinian rights violations in the area, a move that has caused considerable controversy. He told us of the warm, polite reception he remembered from the church talk and in particular his Q&A conversation afterwards with “a young Jewish lady and a Muslim woman, whose names I don’t remember I’m afraid.” This led to his memory of a French friend of his whom has since passed away and the philosophical talks they shared. Roger told us his concerts are a safe place to gather where all can engage in ideas as if it is a bar and today, “we are all part of the bar, exchanging opinions where you can exchange your love for your fellow man.” He finished his long-winded speech by relaying words of advice from his late French friend—“that, perhaps, I am not alone. Today, we are not alone,” leading to massive applause. From here, Roger played just a few verses of one of his newest songs, written during COVID, that’s over 14 minutes long. It was called – what else? – “The Bar.”

After this subdued approach, we jumped back into Floyd roots with their 1975 album Wish You Were Here. This included the title track – a beautiful classic – and the more upbeat and sarcastic “Have a Cigar.” In a touching tribute, the visuals here included old pictures of Pink Floyd from the 60s and 70s. It was no coincidence Roger was speaking about his former and deceased friend Syd before and during this portion. We continued with the symphonic “Shine On You Crazy Diamond (Parts VI -IX)” – one of the longest songs of the evening. This was closed out by shifting to a different Pink Floyd album – “Sheep” from 1977’s Animals. In addition to projections of flying rams on the screen above, there was an actual giant inflatable sheep flying over the crowd. It was spectacular and a bit trippy.

At this point the set ended, and I could have left the show very satisfied. However, it was merely an intermission and we still had a whole second half to go. Roger came back embracing the full concept of The Wall album – not just in music, but in a meta performance that included banners, costume, and imagery of the era. The song “In the Flesh” features a fictional rock star (literally named “Pink Floyd”) who has a mental breakdown and imagines himself a fascist dictator while doing a concert. The evil element of his personality has taken over, leading him to lash out at the audience and wish them dead. (“There’s one smoking a joint! And another with spots! If I had my way, I’d have all of ya shot!”) Roger dressed the part in sunglasses and a long coat echoing certain authoritarian WWII generals. It felt uncomfortably close to being at a rally you don’t want to be attending, but that was sort of the point. It was obvious satire, especially in the context of the rest of the show.

If the parody depicted was somehow too subtle, this part of the show also featured the infamous flying pig puppet – a staple of many Pink Floyd and solo Waters concerts. A giant inflatable pig adorned with pictures of weapons and the words “STEAL FROM THE POOR GIVE TO THE RICH” circled the arena. I was wondering if the swine would make a physical appearance and I was so happy to see it—probably my favourite imagery of the evening.

This was immediately followed by “Run Like Hell” – a track continuing “Pink Floyd’s” delusional fantasy of inciting an audience riot as a supreme dictator. The banners featuring the well-known crossed hammers symbols from the album retracted and we watched these same hammers march on screen in formation as soldiers. This was, if I’m not mistaken, footage taken directly from the rock opera film of The Wall. Roger did the same concept when he performed the album in its entirety around 10 years ago, and it just works so well in a crowded arena. I was a little disappointed to not see more of the actual bricks in the wall – being a metaphor, but also a literal physical wall in the story context. Still, the brief dictator cosplay felt all too real.

Roger played a couple more solo tracks, from the 90s and from his most recent album. The visuals were once again on the nose, with Roger voicing his displeasure with the problems of the world. “FUCK THE SUPREME COURT. FUCK THE PATRIARCHY. FUCK OCCUPATION. FUCK YOUR GUNS. PALESTANIAN RIGHTS. INDIGENOUS RIGHTS. HUMAN RIGHTS” were just some of the words expressed on screen. Many of these statements were accompanied by applause – I’m glad they resonated with people.

From here we finally got into The Dark Side of the Moon era – an album with imagery and context that needs no introduction. He started with “Money,” a very satirical song about how cash drives people. The visuals for this included flying coins and smartphones, alongside a pig in a business suit greedily enjoying the currency. (I’m guessing this had something to do with capitalists.)

We continued with four more tracks from Dark Side – all of Side B in the same order, in fact. It was a real treat to hear a full half of the album. My only complaint is that I was disappointed to not hear “Time” at any point during the night—I definitely expected to. Nevertheless, the crescendo and mesmerizing songs seemed to hypnotize the audience. There’s a reason it’s such a best-selling album. The screen above became a dark prism of lasers, light beaming through it to create a rainbow. The rainbow then transformed into a colourful mosaic – still a rainbow, but now consisting of faces of people from all over the world. Perhaps Roger’s consistent themes of humanity, human rights, and global citizenry were most present here. It was a beautiful thing to witness.

This was really the climax of the concert, but we had just a couple left to go. This was much more low-key with minimal visuals. He played a song from The Final Cut (“Two Suns in the Sunset”), another couple verses of “The Bar,” and ended the night with the final track from The Wall, “Outside the Wall.” At this point, Roger introduced each backing member verbally and on screen with captions. While the man was of course the feature of the night, he had an amazing group accompanying him. Seamus Blake brought the house down with his saxophone solos. Jonathan Wilson and Dave Kilminster are amazing guitarists. Robert Walter and Jon Carin performed on keyboards and organ. Gus Seyffert accompanied on bass, with Joey Waronker carrying the whole thing on drums and percussion. Finally, to round it up were Shanay Johnson and Amanda Belair, who were just beautiful in their backing vocals the entire show. This was a total of ten people on stage recreating music that isn’t easy to perform or replicate—long, complex studio recordings. Roger assembled an amazing team to put on a show and I wish I could thank every member personally for making the magic of Pink Floyd happen.

Roger Waters was speaking of his possible retirement ten years ago with The Wall Live tour. Since then, he’s done two more large arena tours, and I’ve had the good fortune to experience all three of them. One can only imagine the physical and mental toll months of touring and performing take on someone, never mind the decades of shows that came before that. Someone with the recognition of Waters could easily do shorter sets, less ambitious/elaborate stage visuals, or simply perform and tour less overall. I’m not only impressed by his stamina and commitment, but by how well his voice has held up after almost sixty years of singing. Considering he’s not the young man he was in the 70s, his vocals and range were remarkable – better than anything I remembered or imagined. The guy just has so much talent – by far one of the most unique, memorable, and frankly best concerts I’ve ever experienced.

I don’t know if Roger Waters will ever come to Vancouver or even tour again. I’d certainly love to see what he does next, and I was surprised he was still going when this 2022 show was first announced. But if this truly was his final tour, it was a stupendous note to go out on. I couldn’t have asked for anything more. I’m so happy and grateful to have experienced that night.

“All that is now, all that is gone, all that’s to come, and everything under the sun is in tune, but the sun is eclipsed by the moon.”

Written by: Cazzy Lewchuk

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longliverockback · 14 days

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Roger Waters The Pros and Cons of Hitch Hiking 1984 Harvest ————————————————— Tracks: 01. 4:30 AM (Apparently They Were Travelling Abroad) 02. 4:33 AM (Running Shoes) 03. 4:37 AM (Arabs with Knives and West German Skies) 04. 4:39 AM (for the First Time Today, Part 2)05. 4:41 AM (Sexual Revolution) 06. 4:47 AM (the Remains of Our Love) 07. 4:50 AM (Go Fishing) 08. 4:56 AM (for the First Time Today, Part 1) 09. 4:58 AM (Dunroamin, Duncarin, Dunlivin) 10. 5:01 AM (the Pros and Cons of Hitch Hiking, Part 10) 11. 5:06 AM (Every Stranger’s Eyes) 12. 5:11 AM (the Moment of Clarity) —————————————————

Andy Bown

Ray Cooper

Eric Clapton

Michael Kamen

Andy Newmark

David Sanborn

Roger Waters

* Long Live Rock Archive

#RogerWaters #Roger Waters #Andy Bown #Ray Cooper #Eric Clapton #Michael Kamen #Andy Newmark #David Sanborn #Pros and Cons of Hitch Hiking #LP #Art #1984

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greenmanone · 2 months

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NEW Re-Imagined & Edited Version of The Pros and Cons of Hitch Hiking by...

#roger waters #pink floyd #pros and cons of hitch hiking #music #roger waters music #pink floyd music

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fancycolours · 4 months

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Back at you!!

☀ you are a ray of sunshine! Send this to people that you think deserve it!

AWWWW!!! Thanks so much!!! 🥰💕💕

#pros-and-cons-of-hitch-hiking

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visualmemoryunit · 26 days

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The Pros and Cons of Hitch Hiking(1984)

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rhapsodynew · 28 days

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1967: Nick Mason, Richard Wright, Syd Barrett and Roger Waters in London. (Rex Features)

Photos of the band members from 1967. (Features of Dezo Hoffman/Rex)

May 30, 2011: Roger Waters performs in Paris in honor of the 30th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall. (Getty Images)

Roger Waters l Pink Floyd

Roger Waters' father was a staunch pacifist and, at the height of the fighting, led an alternative service — driving an ambulance. But one day his father's views changed dramatically, and he went to the front, where he died in 1943, during the offensive of British troops in Italy. That is why the theme of war and parents with children occupies one of the main places in Roger Waters' songs.

Roger was extremely indignant when, after his departure from the band in 1985, the remaining members did not run away at all, but continued to perform as Pink Floyd. Waters tried hard to sue them for the name, but it took him so much time and money that he gave up as a result. A peace agreement was signed, according to which Pink Floyd continues to work under their own name, and Waters can travel the world with a large inflatable pig (no joke, this was an important point of the agreement) and everything that is somehow connected with the album The Wall.

The overly sexy cover of Waters' first solo album, The Pros and Cons of Hitch Hiking, caused a lot of gossip and protests, especially in the feminist community. The model for the picture was the soft porn actress Linzi Drew. On many reissues of the record, her ass was covered with a black die. The fans liked the disc, but the critics had a bad luck. Rolling Stone magazine, out of habit, showed off by slapping Waters' solo album with a stake and calling him a "bottom."

July 2, 2005: Dave Gilmour, Roger Waters, Nick Mason and Rick Wright on stage in Hyde Park, London. (Rex Features / Brian Rasik)

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dweeeeeb · 6 months

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Motivational Music in the Morning ... #RogerWaters, #439AM (#ForTheFirstTimeTodayPart2) ... from the album #TheProsAndConsOfHitchHiking [Official Audio Track] (1984) #MMitM1

#youtube #MMitM1 #Roger Waters #Pink Floyd #4:39am #For The First Time Today Part 2 #The Pros and Cons of Hitch Hiking #Official #Audio Track #1984

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cassiana-on-dark-side · 9 months

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Remember that sort of lost 80s Pink Floyd experimental album I wanted to create using solo albums? Here is a first setlist. The concept should be that even though the world is not a safe place there is still love that can hold us together even if it is a very fragile feeling. I chose the demo version of Sexual Revolution because it was supposed to be part of The Wall so the whole band worked on it. It should be 59:18 minutes in all, I don't know if it's too long for a Pink Floyd album. What do you people think? Would you change anything in terms of the musicality/coherence of the lyrics? And what title would you give it?

Cuts like diamonds (from Identity by Zee - Richard Wright)

Out of the blue (from About a Face by David Gilmour)

Cruise (from About a Face by David Gilmour)

4:37 AM (Arabs with knives and west german skyes) (from The Pros and Cons of Hitch Hiking by Roger Waters)

Murder (from About a Face by David Gilmour)

By touching (from Identity by Zee - Richard Wright)

Sexual Revolution (demo from The Wall)

Let's get Metaphisical (from About a Face by David Gilmour)

4:33 AM (Running Shoes) (from The Pros and Cons of Hitch Hiking by Roger Waters)

5:06 AM (Every Strangers Eyes) (from The Pros and Cons of Hitch Hiking by Roger Waters)

Near the end (from About a Face by David Gilmour)

4:47 AM (the Remains of our Love) (from The Pros and Cons of Hitch Hiking by Roger Waters)

Seems we were dreaming (from Identity by Zee - Richard Wright)

#lost pink floyd album #80s pink floyd #80s pink floyd lost album #pink floyd reconstructed album #pink floyd fake album #pink floyd #roger waters #david gilmour #rick wright #nick mason #zee #identity by zee #identity #the pros and cons of hitchhiking #the pros and cons of hitchhiking by roger waters #about face #about face by david gilmour

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metalcultbrigade · 13 days

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Roger Waters - The Pros and Cons of Hitch Hiking. 30/04/1984

#metalcultbrigade #rock #classic rock #progressive rock #prog rock #80's #80s music #roger waters

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nicolos · 2 years

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silence

cw depression

Their safehouse in Vienna is an old house of three stories that Nicky tells her was left to Booker by an old woman who got attached to him "sometime before the moon landing" (though what the moon landing had to do with it Nile has no idea). It looks from the outside like it's been abandoned sometime in the sixties. From the inside it mostly looks (and smells) like kids from surrounding neighbourhoods used it as a place to smoke pot. It's fine: the kids have clearly only used the ground floor, which has not much more than a few (now broken) old chairs and a cupboard that a number of creatures have made nests in.

The second floor, which inexplicably has an unbroken lock on it, is where their stuff is. There's not much, not many old weapons kept lying around in a place that could be broken into, some books, a vase of a provenance Andy wouldn't tell her, and clothes. Old clothes. Nile spends a great morning having a look through it all and asking Joe what belonged to whom (he had the worst taste of the lot of them in the sixties, apparently, a fact he bore with much patience).

The third floor is a kind of storeroom and a spare bedroom. The bedroom is fine—Nile calls dibs so she doesn't have to share a wall with Joe and Nicky—but the store is, in one word, a mess. There's a broken window that's let cold air and probably some rain and snow in, and birds have made nests everywhere. It's filthy and smells like something died in it, and she's fairly sure she whatever the walls are covered in is six different kinds of health hazard.

It's not a problem. The place is big enough for them without the storage, and anyway there doesn't seem to be anything in there the others miss. Nile, for one, is happy just to be in an actual house after the last two weeks, which were in a cave.

Three days after their job in Vienna is done (without a hitch, for once) Nile wakes up to a note from Andy that she's going hiking, an activity she refuses to engage in with Nile because, she insists, Nile is such a young person about it. Nicky greets her when she gets out of her room, tells her he's going shopping and if she'd like to join him (emphatically, no), then leaves Nile to huddle down on the couch with a blanket and last night's football (proper football) match. God bless the VPN Copley's hooked her upto.

Just as they're approaching half-time, Joe appears, bleary-eyed and wrapped in a blanket. He gives her a mildly confused look, then goes into the kitchen. "Are you looking for Nicky?" she calls, eyes pinned to her screen. "He's gone shopping."

Joe doesn't respond, or she doesn't hear it over the noise in her headphones. After a couple of minutes, she forgets all about it.

Eventually, though, the match ends. Nicky still isn't back, so she figure he's weighing two identical pieces of fruit for pros and cons for half an hour, then repeating, and won't be back in time for lunch.

Nile decides to go looking for Joe.

He's not in his room, where she'd have thought he'd be, and he's not in the kitchen, though he's taken out a bottle of milk (Nile puts it back in the fridge) and the tea, but hasn't made any. She doesn't think she could've missed him leaving the house entirely, but she was pretty focused on the match, so she calls him.

The phone rings upstairs.

The door to the store is open, and the stench that immediately issues is almost enough to convince her that can't be it, but. She takes a step inside, and there Joe is.

He's perched on a rickety old metal chair that's more rust than metal at this point, staring out the window. There's not much to see—the window's covered in dirt, and the cracked parts open onto a taller apartment building across the street.

She hesitates. Normally, Joe's the most vibrant of them. But in the middle of the room surrounded by grime and dust and God only knows what else, Joe looks—faded. A bit like an old photograph. He can't have been there more than an hour, but there's a layer of dust settling onto his hair that makes him look part of the room—like it's encroaching.

She says, carefully, "Joe?" He seems surprised by that, but when he turns he's wearing an expression that's mostly empty. She keeps her voice even and hopefully neither overwhelming not condescending when she asks, "What are you doing here?"

"It's quiet," he answers.

She nods. "Was I making too much noise downstairs? I'm sorry if—"

He blinks, shakes his head, and the action makes him look just a tiny bit more like Joe. Alive. Not inert. "No, no. It isn't you, Nile. Sometimes I..." he cuts off, looking pained. "I can't talk. It helps if I'm not around other people."

That probably explains why Nicky had gone shopping on his own so early in the morning. She wonders why he didn't tell her.

"Okay," she says, not exactly equipped to deal with this, but she cannot in good conscience leave him here this way. She knows they can't die, but she can't imagine breathing in mould and all of this junk can be pleasant, and what she knows about bad days is that sitting in shit, literal or metaphorical, has only ever made her feel worse. "Do you—maybe want to come to the kitchen? I won't try to talk to you."

Joe looks—conflicted, but also distracted, like in the half minute it took for her to figure out what to say he's gone somewhere.

Nile presses her lips together. "Joe?"

He says, "I tried therapy once, in the early aughts." He barely seems to see Nile's surprised expression—explaining the immortality thing would probably stretch any psychologist's imagination (and patient confidentiality), but he does explain: "I couldn't exactly talk about the immortality, but there are other things. Doctor said—not that it was normal, but that these things happen in... high-stress environments. Days like this. Where I feel like if I speak to anybody, I'll fall apart. Physically, I mean."

Nile does know what he means. The feeling isn't quite so physical for her, but it's like—a dam, bursting full with all the things she can't talk about every single day. If she opens the gates, it floods. But the only thing that helps—the only thing that's ever helped—is talking to people.

Hoping she's not making things worse, Nile says, "You're speaking to me now."

Joe nods, looking grim. Not helping, then, but hopefully not making everything worse. "If I talk, I sound exactly the same. But I'm not. The dissonance is..." he trails off.

Nile bites her tongue on offering suggestions, or pointing out that he does not in fact sound anything like he does usually. The inflections are all identical, but he’s flatter, somehow. Joe's had a thousand years to think about it, she figures, and if Nicky and maybe Andy also think he'll feel better after being left alone then that might, possibly, be what he needs. But also: the room with the dead thing in it can't be helping, and the thought of leaving him there makes her skin crawl.

"Do you want me to go out?" she asks.

Joe's frown deepens. "You don't have to do that on my account," he says, like the very thought is painful. Nile wishes she could swallow her tongue.

What would she want, she thinks, if it was her hiding out in a room because being next to somebody and potentially being expected to say something was too. Not help, she thinks. She's never wanted anybody that wasn't her mom or dad holding her hand through it, because that felt like she couldn't handle it on her own. Not condescension, either, or the platitudes like she'll be okay.

She always knows she'll be okay—she's a fighter. As her mom's always said. That never changes what she's feeling right then.

"If you want to come downstairs," she says in the end, "I'm making lunch, and then I'll be watching more football. I'll probably be so distracted I won't even notice you're there."

Joe nods—barely—and Nile leaves the door wide open behind her as she goes back down to the kitchen. Her morning's mood isn't quite the same, but she puts up a match loud enough to drown out any of her worries or the burgeoning low anyway and makes herself lunch.

Just as she sits down to eat, Joe appears on the stairs. Nile carefully does not look at him, keeping her attention on her laptop. Joe disappears into the kitchen, and she can just about make out the sound of shelves opening and closing.

When he comes back out with a real mug of tea this time, he pats her shoulder as he passes by, still wordless. But he doesn't go back upstairs, only into his room, and leaves the door open behind him.

#the old guard #tog fanfiction #me to joe: i bestow upon you the greatest honour i can. depression projection--#yusuf al kaysani #nile freeman #mine.#minefic

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mymindlostmefan · 1 year

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Roger Waters 1984 The Pro and Cons Of Hitch Hiking

released 30.04.1984

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puella-peanut · 1 year

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could we get a lakreese scene where they're bickering over something stupid, but it ends all nice and fluffy lol?

In a nice!AU (which I’m basing this ask on), I don’t really see them as the type of couple that normally bickers. They’re weirdly compatible, smooth out each other's creases, and find their differences more love-able (or at least, uh, tolerable) than annoying. People wonder at the odd couple they make: one tall, burly, and perpetually sour, the other personified, loveable sunshine in what, a cute and convenient 90 pounds? Opposites attract. Maybe. Either way, people hate them! (But goshdangit are they fun to speculate about.)

Moving on...

...However, every now and then, probably once or twice a year if they get antsy for it, thrice if they’re bored—Daniel and John get into these topic-jumping arguments not helped by Daniel’s inability to not word-vomit, his hot-temper, and Kreese’s...just overall Kreese-ness.

For instance, John hates when Daniel brings his spare car parts into any part of the house that is not the garage. Disgusting. Remove it. If this were the Army, Daniel would be on his hands and knees with a toothbrush and a serving of regret and sore knees—and he’d deserve it. “Look, kid," John begins in a voice that brooks no argument, "I know you like to tinker with your toys—“

“—as a mechanic, it’s my job, John!—“

“—keep the guts in the garage. No sludge in the house.” End of story, John thinks. Now, where did he put his newspaper?

But Daniel is kinda ruffled now, like a little canary that’s had a feather plucked. Oh dear.

“Sludge? Sludge? Lemme tell ya, Kreese, without this part, that decrepit old Ford of yours wouldn’t even start, and you’d have to hitch-hike to your job ‘cause I’m not gonna be hauling you around like the ungrateful potato you are. And guess what, there’s no sludge ‘cause I used your newspapers to catch any drip, and well, speaking of sludge, that’s what’s in your coffee-mug—“ Daniel’s off on a rant, not helped by his not-so-good day at the bodyshop (fuck his co-worker Adam, that punk!!), and the fact that the only local Italian grocery store in this white-bread town still hasn’t restocked his favorite olive oil—how do they expect him to put a proper meal on the table?! Anyway, he doesn’t notice John’s nearly-perpetual frown deepen. Oops.

And John does hear the rant—by now he’s attuned to them, like a television wired for certain signals—but what really gets his gears going is his newspaper being used as a catchall drip-receiver. Damn it, he’s had a long day at his job (fuck his co-worker Steve, that moronic prick!!)—and all he wanted to read about was the local baseball game, and how can he do that now when LaRusso’s got his little grease-monkey hands all over it?! Goddamn it, it costs money to have it delivered to their house six days a week. Money which, as their bank accounts know, is scarcer than hens teeth. That lovable little shit.

Anyway, Daniel suddenly remembers how it’s not fair that John’s on his case for the wrenches and the screws and the rusty motor (all nice and neat on his stupid paper by the way!!), when John himself just the other day left his karate-bag on the window-seat and knocked down four, four!—of Daniel’s bonsai trees, and unlike a dumb paper, those can’t be so easily replaced and—

So it jumps from car —> newspaper —> bonsai trees—to the state of the country, the pros and cons of after-school sports, if they should RSVP or just show up to Terry’s annual summer party, to...well, everything plus the kitchen sink, since they’re snipping over everything else so why not snip over that too?

It goes on like seemingly without end even until Daniel angrily finishes dinner (using some dreadful generic-brand olive oil) and pouting like a ruffled Italian housewife, while John broods as he sets the table, and takes long, thoughtful sips of beer (generic brand, but that’s never bothered him), and wonders where he went wrong in life.

So, after an uncomfortable dinner, John retreats to the living room to watch the college football game and sulk (not at all missing the little figure normally curled up like a kitten at his side, no sir...)—while Daniel calls his Ma, (‘cause he checks in on her once a week like the good Italian boy he is), and anyway, he needs someone to whine to, since his usual outlet is the current cause of his problems. Che schifo, Ma! He twirls the kitchen phone cord around a finger, his other hand off his hip and then on it when he’s not gesturing to Ma, his John, the Madonna above, the universe...

“...so yeah, that’s the thing about John, my oh John, he looks like a caveman, I know, and he thinks that wearing a bomber-jacket is the height of sophistication, but I’m getting off topic here, anyway, he runs a tight household surprisingly despite the scruffy look okay, and he’s usually very spick and span—I guess that’s the service in him, probably something he picked up in basic training, ‘cause jeeze is the house squeaky-clean thanks to his insane cleaning routine Ma, oh yeah, anyway we got into it ‘today cause John’s always pissed off if there’s even a crumb outta line—“

“No I’m not LaRusso.” John responds from the living room. At this rate, everyone from Lucille to John Wayne will know their private business, and the latter’s been stone cold dead these fifteen years.

“—like I was saying, a crumb, lemme tell ya, he got all lumpy and sour like milk left out too long when I left a couple of bits n’ parts in the kitchen—yeah, Ma, on the newspaper like you taught me!—this is the type of guy who will wake you up in the am all menacing like, like the drill instructor he was—“

“Never done that, LaRusso. And I was a Captain—“

Daniel forgets his Ma’s on the other end of the line, forgets that she’s laughing at their antics as he snaps back,“—that’s a load of bull, ‘cause yeah you did, Kreese, 'member that time you woke me up and got in my business at an unholy hour just to let me know I’d left the hose running on the entire night and the water bill was gonna rocket up to the cosmos now, and the world was gonna end ‘cause—“

“—it becomes my business as well, kid, when a bill’s in my name. And dawn’s when you should’ve been up already,” John responds, focusing on the meat of the complaint and not the fat. He moves back into the kitchen, all slow and deliberate, his long shadow falling on the brat, menacing. And wasted, because Daniel’s not impressed in the slightest.

“—dawn! Dawn he says, Ma!—on the weekend, John? On Saturday?!”

“Yes."

Daniel rolls his eyes to the popcorn ceiling, letting out an exhausted groan. “Ma, Ma,” he sighs, “I’ll—okay, I'll call ya back later. I'm—“ he scowls at John. “Ma says hi—“

“Hi, Lucille.”

“—not that you deserve it." Daniel mumbles as his mother cheerfully sends John her love, and tells Daniel not to forget to call her, and to jot down his Sloppy Joe recipe. “Yeah got it, love ya too, Ma!”

He hangs the phone back up. Great, now it's too quiet. He chews his lip, turning to look at John, hands idly fiddling with the ends of his untucked shirt that he hadn’t ironed though John had reminded him, and not unkindly, only that morning. Before dropping a kiss that lingered on the top of his head, and heading off to work. His mouth twitches. Suddenly, this whole thing seems stupid. Probably because it is. The idling continues, and John watches Daniel watching him.

Finally, Daniel opens his mouth to say something, anything, because John's just gonna just stand there until the earth swallows him up otherwise. He thinks of something just as John steps up right into his space, making him immediately shut his mouth again, words forgotten. Daniel cranes his neck back, because John’s so much taller than him this close, easily taller than the fridge too, including the basket of fake fruits piled at the top; one of the lemons had fallen behind the fridge what, a week ago, he’ll have to remember to find it before it gets all fuzzy and gross like—“

The back of Daniel’s head hits the wall with a thump. “Ow, fuck—“

John’s hand reaches out quickly, at once cradling his head and pulling Daniel to him in one smooth movement. “Careful, Prima Donna,” John says. His other arm settles itself at Daniel’s waist, and Daniel relaxes into it. It’s a good weight. Familiar.

“What’d you care if I hurt myself, I could die from a wall-induced concussion and you’d still be on my case about denting it or something.” Daniel mumbles, but the dramatic petulance is just for show, something they both know.

“Mm.” John strokes his head like he would an injured kitten. Now that’s a thought, Daniel snorts.

“What.”

Daniel smiles up at him, his hands moving to play with the buttons marching up John’s really nice chest. He undoes one, two at the top, allowing a bit of chest hair to peek out. Much better! “Nothing. Well, not really, ‘cause I was thinking, John, we could fix that old table that's in halves in the garage and I could use it for my bits and pieces—"

"—sounds good."

Daniel beams. "Okay, alright, we can do that this Saturday maybe, you're off right? 'Cause I get off 'round one-ish, so...hey, what about we grab lunch or something? On the radio it said that the storm's gonna clear up by noon, so we can meet between your job and mine, oh John, there's this really cute breakfast-all-day diner that opened up midtown, we should—"

John’s hand moves from Daniel’s head to his face, thumb tracing the outline of his lips. Daniel stills. John tilts his head, leaning down, and Daniel leans up on his toes, curling his hands in John's shirt, already halfway closing his eyes but—

—all he feels on his lips is John's breath when he murmurs, “You think and talk enough for both of us," most unhelpfully, his face completely neutral as he pulls away and returns his arms to his side, leaving Daniel’s hands still curled at his buttons. Waiting for nothing.

“You could die from such a man,” Daniel sighs as he sinks back to the flats of his feet, missing the kiss he never got. The weight of strong arms around him. But he grins up at John anyways, bunny teeth on display. Sweet sunshine again.

There’s a ridiculously fond look on John’s face. “Don’t,” John says, brushing Daniel’s floppy bangs out of his eyes, and thumbing his cheek before he moves back. He grabs another beer from the fridge, leaving Daniel to roll his eyes, and search the cupboards for containers to hold the leftovers until the next day. Maybe he'll bake some more bread so they can have it with their lunches tomorrow. That'll be nice, he thinks, wondering if there's any garlic left over.

John returns to the living room, turns the TV off, and puts on an old record instead, a faint smile on his lips. Daniel will be out in a moment or two all ready to curl up by his side, like a kitten. It's been a long day, and they're both tired. Maybe they'll go on up to bed early as well. Not that they'll go to sleep immediately. Heh.

As he waits, he thinks about what he'll need to fix that table. And while he's at it, the lumber yard near the construction lot has some free wood slabs and pieces. He can stop there on his way back tomorrow, find something to build Daniel a nice shelf for his bonsai trees. The kid'll love it. Maybe he'll surprise him, too.

Now...where did he put that newspaper of his?

Anyway, Anon, this is what happens when you mix fire (Sagittarius), and Earth (Taurus) together. Not that Kreese’s birthday was ever given to be fair (come ON CK writers, fix this!)—but I head-canon him as being (a Boomer baby bless him), as well as a stubborn bull baby. His demeanor certainly fits! As well as the crotchety-ness. My cranky old caveman <3

But that’s just a hot-take brought to you by the Sag in me, Anon. ;D

#lakreese #john kreese #daniel larusso #in which i chase paper cuts #in which i respond to your inquiries #sweep the leg

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