In 2000 Tingstad and Rumbel played Carnegie Hall with our good friend Robin Spielberg. At the time Robin lived in Upper Montclair, NJ and so we took lodging at an old, run-down hotel down the block from her house. Being the pre-Madonna that I am, I switched rooms a few times looking for the just right one and having finally secured the best, I decided to take a shower and chill out a bit. We had just flown in from Seattle and I was really enjoying the warm water as it helped me regain my composure, when in my reverie I became aware that I could not move my feet. For the briefest moment I thought that something was physically wrong, but quickly realized my feet were actually glued to the bottom of the tub. However, with super human strength I was able to dislodge and lift my feet that were now caked with about an inch of some sorta white gooey crud. I got out of the tub, but of course I could not walk on the floor, so I crawled on my knees naked across the room to the phone and dialed up Nancy. She quickly understood that I was totally freakin’ and came down to my room at which point she busted up laughing. I tried, unsuccessfully, to convince her that this was not funny and that she oughta go get somebody from the hotel to do what I didn’t really know because the best the front desk could come up with was a can of WD-40. Now I am a huge fan of WD-40 and all its marvels, but what the hell was I suppose to do with it in this case? So, on my own, with no help from anyone and a struggle with towels, I was able to get the offending tub resealer off my now seriously burning feet. Seems as though the hotel was not suppose to let out that room, duh! Can you imagine what would have happened if I had chosen to sit down for a bath?