The Fat Kid reporting. . .
EUGENE, OR – After weeks of homelessness and industrial solvent abuse, Decanus Picto has pulled himself out of most of the mire and returned to form. I lost track of Decanus over the last two weeks because our fearless leader laid low was too depressing a sight to look at. Yesterday, however, I ran into him at the famous J T’s Lounge, in the illustrious Villa Ranchero shopping center in Box Elder, South Dakota, and found that not only is he off the hobo liquor, he’s also put together a new touring band, known as The New Biaviians. He agreed to be interviewed in exchange for a Tecate. The transcript follows.
Decanus and the New Biaviians, performing at a hole in the wall in Box Elder, South Dakota.
FK: So, what’s up, man? What happened?
DP: Nothing, really.
FK: Wait, something had to have happened. How’d you get your truck running? How’d you put the band back together?
DP: Well, the truck thing, it’s a funny story. I was so broke that I eventually ran out of paint thinner, so I was actually sitting there sober in Eugene, Oregon.
FK: Oh, shit, that must have been awful.
DP: Sho’ you right. When my head cleared, I realized I couldn’t just sit there in the sun on the sidewalk anymore, so I started going around to the bars again, and trying to get a gig.
FK: So, you got a gig despite the club owner’s vendetta?
DP: No, no. It was a little more complicated than that. I was standing around outside, performing on the sidewalk, and they threw this drunk out, and he, um. . . liked the set that I was playing quite a lot, so when he fell over, I just assumed that if he had been able to stay conscious he would have donated money to the Dollars for Decanus fund – thanks for flaking on that, by the way – and sort of helped myself to what I needed. Assuming the whole time, though, that of course he would have given it freely if he was awake.
FK: So, you stole his wallet.
DP: No, of course not. What do I want with his wallet? It’s his. I just rifled through it, and took what I needed. And, you know, I left the rest for him. There was still like $40 there.
FK: So, you stole his wallet.
DP: Yes. What are you, the fucking Karma Police?
FK: No. Just asking.
DP: Anyway, I just accepted my fan’s fine donation, bought my fucking alternator, slapped it in there, and got the fuck out.
FK: Excellent. Nice to see you back at it. So, tell me about The New Biaviians.
DP: Well, we’re a more compact unit now, you know, which is always better. Trim the fucking fat, and get rid of those pieces that don’t pull their weight. And other clichés.
FK: It looks like it’s just you and D’arcy now. How’d you two make up after what you said to her.
DP: Nah, dude, that isn’t D’arcy, it’s Melissa Auf Der Maur.
FK: What? That looks just like D’arcy.
DP: Yeah, I mean, chick laptops are pretty much interchangeable. We auditioned a ton of them: Paz Lenchantin, Kim Gordon, Kim Deal, Jo-Anne Bench, Patricia Day, Debbie Googe, Jeanne Sagan, Sean Yseult, Doris Yeh.
FK: Man, that’s a hell of a list. Why do chicks always play bass when they’re in guy-bands?
DP: I dunno what you’re talking about. Anyway, in the end we went with Melissa.
FK: I see. So, what’s on the agenda? What’s next?
DP: Nothing. Continue the tour.
FK: No specific plans?
DP: I’m not aware of too many things. I know what I know, if you know what I mean. Do you?
At this point, Decanus claimed that the time that Tecate bought me had run out, and that unless I was going to spend another $1.13 on that fine Mexican beverage, he was leaving. I had gotten pretty much all the info I needed, so I went back to my hotel room. However, my plans are changed. Instead of working my way back to Ohio, I’ll follow Decanus Picto and the New Biaviians until the end of the tour. It might be interrupted, however, if Decanus’ second record tanks. And he meets Paul Simon.
