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He orders three steak-and-all-you-can-eat-shrimp dinners, cooked medium, with diet Pepsis and baked potatoes. The total comes to $58.27 (Sizzler: not as cheap as you remember), and everyone shuffles into a green-vinyl booth by the drink station and the hot-appetizers bar.
Topics of discussion before the food arrives: feeling old at concerts; Freese having to lie to his fiancee about working too much; Keenan’s winery; how both James and Mulharsky have been to an astounding number of NIN and A Perfect Circle concerts.
Just as James puts in his plea to get A Perfect Circle back together for a reunion, the three steak plates arrive: Freese wasn’t kidding about loving the food there—he inhales the steak and shrimp as he gives diplomatic answers about which fellow musicians are “cool” and which aren’t. It’s really the ultimate fan opportunity to geek out with one of your favorites:
James mentions that he and his girlfriend will be seeing three NIN shows within a six-day span.
Freese dives into his cheesebread. “I’m going for it, man,” he says. “I’m really enjoying the Sizzler experience, by the way, guys.”
“Mmmmhm!” James responds. “No, it’s spectacular.”
Forty minutes later and Freese announces he has to book it to Hollywood to make a recording session with Devo before rushing home for some family time.
Upon departure, James gives it one last shot: “Well, get Maynard, Billy Howerdel, and get them all in a room . . .”
“WE’RE GETTING THE BAND BACK TOGETHER!!” Freese yells.
* * *
Freese hates his dog.
Frankie, a brown Chihuahua, doesn’t seem so bad, but Freese points out that Frankie almost always wakes up his three children after he finally manages to get everyone to bed.
Freese is sitting in the back house of his almost-oceanfront-but-still-modest, one-story, Long Beach home. He shares the house with his fiancee of 10 years (Amdurer), children (Hunter, 8; August, 2; and Olive, 3 months), two cats, two fish and, yes, Frankie.
The home is beautifully decorated, with plenty of art displayed and kids’ toys strewn about. The back house holds some children’s-sized teal- and lime-green-colored, rounded-edge furniture; large, translucent bears stand on a white credenza, and a large-scale model of the Tiki Room at Disneyland sits atop a tall bookshelf.
August, whom Freese refers to as Auggy, stands just outside the door and screams, “Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaddy!”
Freese talks about his kids constantly and turns into a puddle at the very sight of them: “Auggy, you wanna come sit with me? I love this guy so much; he’s such a cutie. We were talking this morning, and he’s just learning how to talk and communicate and getting his vocabulary together, and it’s so cute!” he says, kissing the curly-haired toddler. “Hey, Auggy. Hi. Hey. Do you know you’re cute? You did know that?” He rapidfire kisses August’s forehead.
Freese only recently quit as the drummer for Nine Inch Nails so he could spend more time at home. “I needed to be around a bit more in 2009 for my kids,” he says. “They need their dad right now. I’m still going out of town, but just for bits at a time. I’m sure there will be a time when I go out for a long time again . . . but just not right now.”
Freese grew up in a musical family: His father, Stan Freese, has been working for Disney for 38 years. He started out as the Disney World director of bands when that park opened in 1971 and was transferred in 1974 to Anaheim, where he eventually became—and remains—Disneyland’s entertainment director.
Stan has a warm, friendly voice and a lively laugh—it’s clear from whom Josh inherited his sense of humor. Like Amdurer and Freese’s friends, Stan says that his son’s fan-packages plan wasn’t a surprise to him at all. He shares a story about Josh’s seventh birthday party.
“He wanted to watch Monty Python—that’s all he ever watched back then,” he begins. “The other little boys were just not into it, and so they split. [Josh] was crestfallen.” Stan lets out a laugh that sounds a bit like his son’s. “He couldn’t understand why other 7-year-olds couldn’t get into The Holy Grail. That’s when I knew we were in for a ride.”
As a child, Freese had convinced his father to bring a set of drums down from the attic in their Placentia home. Stan sat down and played a simple beat. Freese was able to follow right away.