Thurs., May 7, Rotblombe, Erfurt, Germany-- The trip from Ingolstadt included the promised tourist stop in Munich. So far we'd only been through Munich a dozen times as it's on the way to and from The Village on the main highways. Petra took us right downtown, parked the van and we had two hours to stroll the huge walkways and stores of Munich. Dede and I found some deals on clothing items--I got some socks for super cheap, and found a washcloth for a thrift store price. Washcloths are not included in hotel rooms in Germany, and, apparently in Europe. Don't ask me why. It was a warm, partly cloudy day, and there were all kinds of crowds shopping, shopping, shopping. Dede was clicking her camera left and right when we heard a distant chiming sound. We followed our ears about a half a mile bringing us to a large plaza area in front of a huge church-like building, and atop about ten stories of carved stone and filigree was a gigantic glockenspiel--the kind of clock with the various scenes rotating in motion as the hour is struck. It's just that in this case, there were two scenes, and they were life-size! There was a scene of two knights jousting and a scene of dancers, intricately machined and colorful. About three hundred people were gathered below this musical mechanization gazing up at it, many taking pictures, just as we were. At the appointed hour, we met back at the agreed spot and hiked back to the van for a short drive to a recommended Italian restaurant. It was good, of course, and we headed back to The Village with nicely full tummies. After we unpacked, Vic told Dede he "had to get something off his chest," wanting to talk to her. She said okay, but was too tired, wanting to go to bed. As I tucked her in, we figured Vic was wanting to talk about his problem with the band, or maybe about his childhood problems, which we concluded he must have. Curiosity was running deep as we headed out the next day for Erfurt. Now, Erfurt was quite the topic of conversation several times from both Tony and Joanna. They had visited Erfurt a number of times shortly after The Wall had come down. Erfurt is in the old East Germany, and apparently quite a depressing place. Tales of riding for hours on cobblestone highways, the putrid pervasive odor of coal oil, the tiny venue with cracked ceiling material falling as they played, the substandard, dirty hotel and of course, it always rains in Erfurt. "I've never seen the sun in Erfurt," Tony declared. We left the Village under sunny skies, and as we approached the old Eastern Germany, it did seem to cloud up, but as we crossed the old border, the sun came back out and there were obvious signs of a serious reconstruction taking place. What used to be cobblestone highways were now smooth, modern freeways, and although the rest stop areas weren't as colorful or fancy as in Bavaria to the south, they were new and clean. Tony kept saying, "Wait till we get to Erfurt--you'll see..." We got to Erfurt, and behold, a modern, glistening city. No coal oil in the air, no cobblestone main streets, and the sun was shining gloriously upon us. Petra stopped the van at a crossroads and got out to ask directions to the club, and then it happened... The defining moment in a band when it's finally obvious a change has gotta come. Dede asked Vic (for the fourth time) to roll down his window so we could have some air in the back of our stuffy and hot van. He didn't respond, so Dede raised her voice, "Vic, roll down the goddamn window, we're suffocating back here." Suddenly he turned around and unleashed the ugliest verbal attack on Dede I've ever seen. The guy was goin' OFF. Our curiosity was at last quelled as Vic was having a problem with Dede, not the band (although the band was having a probl was just overcome with all the stress of everything. She left with Dede to go back to the van, leaving Petra, Tony, Vic and I alone at the table. Then Vic had the nerve to say, "Hey man, nothing personal, but you know, we still have to work together." I was astounded, and snapped back, angrily, "What do you mean by that? What do you mean?" All Vic could say was, "Well, we have to work together, so..." I retorted, "As far as I'm concerned, until I hear an apology, we have nothing to say to each other." Vic fell silent, so that pretty much summed everything up right there. Joanna and Dede came back in, recomposed, ready to eat, as they realized hunger was adding to the stress. We then headed to the hotel, which Tony had described earlier as being substandard and dirty. Well, now it was a Best Western four-star hotel! We had a short break to get ready for the gig, and then headed down to the club. There was a dismal turnout. But, several of Joanna's German friends showed up, and the man with the guitars, one gold-top Les Paul, and another beautiful burnt-sienna finish custom made Blade guitar, both in pristine condition. Joanna and Tony were thrilled. We plugged along for two short sets and called it a night. For the whole evening, which always seems to happen when there is no crowd, a very drunk and obnoxious dude was having boundary problems with the band. He wanted to help us load out equipment, sign autographs, drink our green room beer, eat our food, and generally was being a pain in the ass. Finally, as we were attempting to leave in the van, the guy wouldn't let Joanna shut the front door. Tony was sitting behind Joanna and was just about to get up to handle the situation, when Petra bolted out of the van, ran around to the drunk and practically put a half-nelson on him long enough for Joanna to shut and lock her door. She then released the guy and got back into the van. Then this dude had the drunken nerve to get mad at her and was shaking his fist at us as we gratefully pulled out of there. I had decided to just cut Vic out of the picture in my mind, even though that's kind of hard to do when you're in a band... Joanna said, "That's it. He's history." So the quest for a new bass player has now officially begun...