Duff McKagan's column runs every Thursday on Reverb. His memoir, It's So Easy (Simon & Schuster) is out now.
OK, then. You have all had


Tour's End: Saying Goodbye to Whore's Baths, Punk-Rock Laundry, and 'Graze the Peach'

Duff McKagan's column runs every Thursday on Reverb. His memoir, It's So Easy (Simon & Schuster) is out now.
OK, then. You have all had chance to come along on this whirlwind tour that today concludes here in Hamburg, Germany. For the past four weeks, I have tried my best to give you all an inside-ish view of what a rock tour is like.

Well, at least what a rock tour looks like if you are a band the size of Loaded. We don't get to do fancy things, like have days off. We in the band did a count the other day. In the 31 days that we have been gone, we will have been to five continents. Check it out:

-- U.S. to the UK (that's two continents)

-- Berlin to Santiago (the count is now three continents)

-- Cordoba, Argentina, to Berlin (four)

-- London back to Seattle (five, y'all)

Now there are definitely other and more sane ways to tour, for sure, but in our little Loaded world, things have to be just a bit insane for it all to make sense to us. For whatever reason, we attract the zaniest of tour scheduling.

But you all know how much of a family man I am . . . and I absolutely HATE to be away from them. In a perfect world, my wife Susan and our girls Grace and Mae (and our dumb dogs too, of course) would go on the road together. But there is this dumb thing called "school" that just plain gets in the way.

So without them being around, and just being around the same dudes 24/7, a strange phenomenon happens: We all start to act like 14-year-old boys (see my "Fart Tennis" column.) We have a game that has developed over these last couple of weeks (RIGHT after Mrs. McKagan and I parted ways in London) . . . this game has been dubbed "Graze the Peach."

It involves surprise and cunning. A quick and unknowing flick of the hand to another fella's groin region can sustain terror and "two hands on deck" at all times of the waking day. Bus bunks are off limits, and you can't Graze the Peach if someone is holding a hot beverage or computer. I've been drinking coffee and writing columns constantly as a result . . . Yes, yes. I know this just might be TMI.

I HATE Graze the Peach.

There are things that I think all of us may take for granted. Things like laundry and hot food and soap. I'm getting sick of:

-- Punk-rock laundry: Washing your clothes in a sink somewhere, with whatever sort of soap available, be it shampoo or whatever, and letting them hang dry.

-- A whore's bath: That's when you just sort of wash your face, maybe, and re-apply some deodorant.

-- Calling home.

-- Salami and cheese.

-- Trying to find an Internet connection.

These are things I will miss, however:

-- Motorhead.

Yes, touring Germany with Motorhead has been one of the most epic rock-and-roll experiences that I've ever had the pleasure to take part in. A guy just really can't say enough about Lemmy, Phil, and Mikkey. To see how they operate from day to day has been a learning experience, even for seasoned tour dudes like myself. There is just an air of professionalism out here with this band and their crew that I haven't seen being matched.

They are the kings of the road, and have been doing this harder, faster, and with more frequency than anyone. Kudos to Motorhead, and warm thanks for having us out, mates!

But in truth, I just can't wait to get home to all of my girls and dogs. I shall be on a plane as you read this. Santa Claus is right around the corner now, and the best gift I have ever gotten is the gift of having this little family of mine.

I guess, however, that I WILL have to stop acting like a 14-year-old boy. There are plenty of those starting to swarm around my daughter Grace . . .

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