One day your living in the van, the next you got ass problems. Such was my case. Since no one else wants to update, this is how my "tour" is going.
I've been squatting in JoAnna's apartment the past week now and I haven't left this room much. I'm kinda going crazy but it's a comfortable crazy. I can never spell comfortable right, I always spell it comfterable for some reason. Good thing for spell check. I seriously need to thank this girl for everything she's done for me, and her cute bunny named Bonnie. Kelli too, we went and got some pizza. Good times here in San Diego. Nice weather, you know. That sorta thing.
I did go to the zoo, the infamous San Diego zoo. I had to get off my ass at some point and learn how to walk again. I saw baby panda's. Let me explain this, BABY PANDA's. Yes they were cute and I was very very tempted to steal one. Rivaling the baby panda's, was the sea otter playing with the baby monkeys. Let me explain this, the sea otter. Second cutest creature next to panda's and merkats. He was swimming around in his little pond with a baby monkey on a branch a few inches above the water. They were kinda playing tag or something like it, and the otter knocked the monkey into the water! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? THE MONKEY GOT WET! The momma monkey wasn't so happy about this and started howling and chasing the otter around, but the otter thought it was funny and kept coming back to taunt the momma monkey.
There was also an animal show JoAnna and I walked in on, in which a sea lion preformed various tricks and a wolf walked around with a golden retriever.
Besides all that, my ass has been getting better which is awesome. I can sit for short periods of time now on my donut cushion, curtosey of Alyssa.
I miss all you assholes. I've been looking at your stupid faces all day editing pictures, and yes I miss you all. I've even had a dream or two about being in the van.
I wrote a song today! Sketch - Maybe if your lucky. Check it.
Peace to the east (next thursday I'll be back in NY).
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Friday, February 6, 2009
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Pacifica Sunshine
Could it be coincidence? Or could it be fate? The fact is that this entry started here in San Diego and never made the web, yet here I am back in San Diego whilst I should I be in Washington - with the rest of the band. Nothing quite makes sense anymore but that just begs the question if it ever made sense to begin with:
Manifest Destiny, burrito's, Chai-Guy, the Sonoran Desert; nothing could get in our way. Today was the day the 9 of us (Samantha flew in from NY because she misses us all sooo much!) touched with our own 18 bare feet's the sand of the West Coast. It has been a whirlwind, throwing us all about the country in such an in and out (animal style burger) manor - with internet connections few and far between and time swirling around the clock as we drive in the wrong direction; updates have been difficult. To make it up to you all's, 500+ pictures were recently uploaded to this here computing machine that will be available as soon as I can get some more free time. Austin Texas was where we left off, but we missed out on updating about the great times in Oklahoma:
Norman, Oklahoma! ................ It was kinda like that. The "venue" we played at was a DYI deal, a large house that gave a roof to 17 people and lots of sultry nooks and crannies. Universe City is what the place goes by night; and when we straggled in from the van in the bitter cold of nowhere land (sticks, boonies, twigs, walmart land), our mouths were stuffed with freshly cooked food that made us all happy once again. After hanging out for an hour or two, it was a general realization we all had that no one else was coming out to the show besides the 17 people who lived in the house. Some of us got cranky, some of us laughed, some of us got drunk.
Whilst loading in the equipment to the dingy basement in which we were to play, there was 64 too many farts going on in a closed space that seriously haltered the process of actually setting up - however once it was done we all marveled at our wall of amplifiers and pieces of metal. A few more people did actually show up and after doing some mingling and laughing, TTD took the "stage".
The sound in there was rough and loud, but it didn't stop the dancing from shaking the house. People were extra generous and made donations and bought merch, thanks to all of you!!
After playing we continued to laugh and chat and drink some more. The house slowly started to eerily resemble a haunted house from Scooby Doo; with all its doors and hallways and people walking out of one door to the other, down the stairs and out of the bathroom. It was cold that night. Very, very cold but we (I) was lucky to have a raging fireplace in the room with the couch that I happened to score that night and learned a neat-o trick from someone about how to choke the fire to make it bigger. 14 blankets and 3 hours later, it was time to leave. Alllllll aboard the van - were off to Austin Texas this time.
This ride was filled with some anger and rage as we mistakingly took a wrong highway straight through Dallas (lots-o-traffic, the most we hit so far all tour) instead of driving around the city. Luckily we had Harrison behind the wheel who plowed down the interstate honking and waving his NY fists into the air.
We barely make it to the venue on time, the first band was setting up their equipment. Free drink tickets are handed out, we see some friends Robby and Danielle and fun times are had. Thanks again for putting us up!
Austin went by too quick for what seemed like an awesome place; we were there for all of 8 hours MAYBE, before the ridiculously long drive through the ridiculously long, big and cattle-filled state of Tehas.
Ryan somehow accumulated over 2000+ cows in a little game Harrison calls, "My Cows" and I gave up with my 1 and 3/4 cow. This went on for a while, as Lubbock Texas is far and north. I wake up delirious and needing food on some residential street some 8 or 9 hours later, glad to finally get out of the van. The venue for the night is called "The Bright House" and we're all very sad that we got to play its last show.
The house lived up to its name with brightly colored walls and cute pets (KLAUSE!!!) running around in all directions. We asked around and finallllllllllllly found some decent green peace (which we saved for later on) and some Subway Sandwiches. The show went over amazing well - thanks to everyone there being amazing and supportive. We do have this on film, but SOMEONE lost the friggin' camera charger that has not been recovered since this said night. So, once we find it or buy one there will be a video for your optical and auditory pleasure. OH, Ingrid made the BEST carrot-ginger soup which was eating up like warm butter on toast, or eggs with pepper. Whichever one you prefer.
After the show we hung out and rolled up some piff. Kia got a little (a lot) sick and left a piece of him on the floor in the backyard. Moogly, the cute introverted backyard dog watched from a distance and radiated and bestowed his wisdom upon us. The piff was done with and I needed a sleeping bag to house me for the night since the Motel 6 in Dalton Georgia apparently stole my floral blanket and pillow. What's a better idea than getting really high and wandering about the largest Walmart imaginable? Oh, if you Wiki Lubbock Texas.......it's known as "the town of 5 Walmarts".
Myself, Harrison, Carl and Dan Mowan hopped into the big space-ship (at this point) van and didn't have to travel more than three minutes before reaching our destination. Of course! the GPS managed to somehow misdirect us for yet another time, but the delay was funny and we all laughed at how shady we looked in a big white van pulling out of the college campus that apparently the GPS thought was a Walmart. Upon reaching our destination, this place was big. It looked like it was its own city sky-line, it looked like it could house roughly 5000 people. Instead it sells cheap goods that more often than not brake and are unsatisfactory.
I finished my shopping within the first 20 minutes, Carl and Dan took a little special time together for an hour and 1/2. During this "time" that I wandered around, I made it to the coin-op machines by the entrance. Harrison waddles tired and lost over to me after awhile and he watches me suffer the pangs of a claw machine. It was .50 to play and I ended up spending $5 trying to get this damned thing that I would pick up EVERY time and have it drop closer and closer to the glory hole. At one point I had 2 times 5 nickels and 5 pennies in which I exchanged for 2 quarters - only to have the machine eat my money. At this point in my life I said fuck the machine, and demanded a refund of my change to further the claw machine antics. During this process the Walmart employee unfortunate enough to be servicing me at 2:00 am on a Sunday night was an odd fellow who claimed to be of a British Royal Bloodline. ?????? Yes, shheoo he gives me a slip to fill out with my name and phone number and hands me my 2 quarters back. I loose again, play some Big Buck Hunting (the only game available) after listening to its demo music for an hour it seemed to enticing to pass up anymore.
So that was Walmart.
Sleep, wake up to everyone sprawled out on the floor and couches around me along with all of our equipment still partially set up. Ingrid makes vegan pancakes which everyone devoured and we spark up one more time before the haul to New Mexico.
This drive I think I slept a good amount because I don't remember much, I think I drove for a bit. No one likes to let you drive the van, everyone is always trying to jump on the opportunity for some reason. Whatever.
I wake up to Albuquerque in a haze and the 8 of us scramble for some kind of sustenance that isn't gas station food. Some get Thai, some get shitty Italian buffet. I was the later, and the walk over there we saw some interesting characters in this New Mexico place. The whole night was filled with some very strange folk.
The food is eaten, and we all reconvene at Burk's Tiki (lounge). The place looks like a Friday's turned upside down and shaken up real well, with a stage in a very odd place - a huge Hawaiian mural painted on its back wall. We notice there's a map of Long Island hanging on the stage wall, which we later learned there is apparently some weird connection between Long Island and New Mexico. Very strange stuff.
A lot of people file in from off the streets (you don't really want to hang out on them for too long, there's far too many people willing to talk to you about absolutely nothing and mostly creepy). Burk's Tiki is mostly filled. The bar area is huge and thats packed but closer to the door when the stage is there is some open space. Rumi and The Test Dream play, a very nice lady buys Ryan a shot and hands it to him on stage. The night went pretty late here because we had to wait for the bar to close to collect our $$. There was mention of a party but it was never found, so we drove back to a friends house we made for the night and there was somewhat of a party there (mostly bong rips).
Him and his girlfriend were extremely kind people, it was a shame we had a 9 hour drive to Tucson Arizona to undertake and couldn't go get breakfast with them or spend any further time. This is when things went bad.
About an hour and change into the drive, one Kia Jun wakes up from the back bench seats and says, "Hey guys where are we?"
A respond to the effect of "Not on the highway were suppose to be on."
Kia says, "WHAT THE FUCK" until we pull into a gas station and all pull our hair out realizing we were traveling in a rough direction headed towards the mountainous region of Flagstaff Arizona. Bad Bad Bad. Time was already of essence making it to Tucson on time and we pretty much just fucked our only chance of making it there on time. Instead of taking a route that would cut our way back to the highway we were suppose to take, we bite the bullet and turn 180 degrees back to Albuquerque. Still more yelling but were driving fast and have the will to make it in time. There can be no stops, we must run the tank down, if you gotta piss do it out the window style, ya' know what I'm saying?
Somewhere in the Arizona desert that we finally reach after the tensions have slightly calmed down, we see a police check-point. We are all thankful we have nothing to hide at this point and after Kia tells the nice officer that were heading to Albuquerque instead of Tucson we worry a tad. The registration for the trailer is not with us (we realize in Arkansas) and we think there could be some problems with that. Luckily he doesn't notice and we continue our very horribly long drive. This drive was so horribly long that we actually passed a town called "Elephant Butte", and when the 8 of our exhausted and miserable bodies saw the sign - none of us could really muster up a chuckle, or decipher if what we saw was real.
At some point we can see the city lights from miles away and were making enough time that we can park the car, run our stuff in and get directly on stage. It happens to the T. We roll up after Logan from Logan Booking holds off the show a bit for us and throw our stuff inside. The contents of our trailer are thrown out into the street, and we make way with the loading in.
There is a decent amount of people there, including my sister Liana and her friend who came along. The Test Dream rocked the house and then when it was time for Rumi to play everything just kinda went wrong - but wrong in a way where everything was still good and no one got angry. I broke a string on the first song and took Ryans guitar as a replacement. This was not a good thing because Ryan had played "Drinking from the Moon" as their closing number and I was soon to notice in the middle of "More" that something was funky with his axe.
Of course on the song I use the top three strings for, all of those strings on Ryan's guitar are thrown off the bridge pegs from violent playing.
Everyone has a good time regardless and we proceed to eat more burrito's. Liana tells us of a nice spot down the block and we marvel at how great mexican food tastes for the 90th time in a row this week. As were eating there is speak of who would be matched up well between us for a wrestling match. Mostly it is agreed upon that Dan Mowan and Carl Bleke should duke it out.
Liana's apartment is next stop for the night to relax and inhale. Her place is nice, has big couches and a fuzzy floor. It is also in an apartment complex that could double for a spring break resort; there are frat parties going on all around us, dudes screaming "Hey dude!", cha-bra's throwing vases off balconies, the whole nine yards. The 8 of us walk threw the chaos and put a flag pole up on my sisters place. Adaptation was watched (with commercials) and laundry was attempted to be done. This is where things went bad.
Harry and Derek (Wing) put up the first load, a big one at that, and into the dryer after a while.............it stops working. I go to inspect and realize that the lint catcher is not only full, but the usual gray is turned to a hot purplish color and is spewing out onto the floor. Great. We fiddle for the rest of the night, somehow it ends up turning back on but works at the rate of 1 tshirt / 3 hours. Most of us fall asleep and after all of us fall asleep we all wake back up in the morning.
Half of us dissipate into the Arizona heat to find a guitar shop and food while a few stay back at Liana's apartment. They take forever and there is a roommate that doesn't appreciate the 8 dudes who just ran threw the apartment. So myself Derek and Brett wait outside for the van to come back and pick us up. We realize California is tomorrow and are still basking in the glory of the desert sun, playing catch by the road and walking around with a whole bunch of wet laundry.
After 30 minutes of waiting the big white van comes, and we flip out about how to find a laundry mat - we almost give up then find someplace by mistake and throw our soggy belongings into the working machine. Most of us hang out by the van with the doors open, smoking the last of our piff before the drive and fixing up equipment. After 20 minutes of laughs and picture taking, Phenix is next!!
Oh the fun times, Phenix is a short drive (for once) and we arrive at a very tasty Thai restaurant and fill our stomachs with good cheap eats. There is much time to kill tonight and myself and Harry Shultz play catch in the parking lot of the Yucca Tap room for awhile, while Ryan attempts to fix his guitar by shoving toothpicks and scotch tape into its many holes and crevices. Kia meets up with some friends and a pin-ball machine is played. We play, drink, and spend way too much time talking to a Navajo Indian that wanted me to buy him beer. That was a wrong wrong wrong choice, as when Brett and I were talking to him and listening to his rant....he RIPPPPPPPSSSSS a fart with the timbre of an orchestra comprised of hot-dog eating champions. He scared us so, especially when he wouldn't leave us alone and we couldn't decide if he wanted to kill us or not. Someone else was unlucky enough to get wrapped up in his nonsense and almost got into a fist-fight with him. The bouncer broke it up, and we proceeded to eat more Mexican food. He Somehow we end up finding someone to stay with again and there is some miscommunication between our friend and his roommate. She heard "2 people" coming, not "2 bands." It ended up being okay, except the floor was kinda hard. We leave pretty quick in the morning after a light of lots of conversations and piffness.
This is where is gets bad. We wake up early, sometime before 10 and make our way on the road. What do we see? For breakfast? In-and-Out Burger? PERFECT! Animal Style this, secret menu that, french fries for Ryan, and bathrooms and farts later. Thats how we do here. Great.
The day is the day to make it to California, this is the day of deserts and mountains and open road. I take a shift somewhere in the Sonoran Desert and head west. I honk my horn once I see the sign welcoming the 8 of us to Cali, and think this drive is by far my favorite. I've been reading the book Dune and it was a happy coincidence to finally see the open desert with my own two eyes while being engulfed in that epic tale. It is beautiful and mysterious, and filled with people on ATV's and dirt bikes climbing rapidly up the dune walls in the hot January sun. Nothing is around, we barely pass a town or two and then begin our accent to the rocky piles towering over the flat land.
Shortly after climbing upwards I notice the heat gauge steadily rising along with our altitude, and without going back down we have to find a spot to pull over our van. There is nothing around us but rocks, sparse vegetation and some crawling desert creature I came across walking along the rocks. It was a tarantula or scorpion - something big brown and fast that scurried about under a rock and to be honest I'm glad I didn't really get a full shot to remain in my memory. Harrison scaled a decent sized wall while the rest of us wandered and pondered about life out here in nowhere land. The gauge went down and Harry took the wheel.
He had the bad shift, the one where the van has to be pulled over every 5 minutes to wait for the engine to cool. We were extremely lucky we left early for this drive and had time to kill and walk around in the desert in the meantime. After about the 4th time being pulled over we came up with a genius idea:
8 dudes + 1 van + 5 Amps + Drums + Merch + Coats + 1 magical food bag*****= a lot weight. The great idea we have is, 7 of us get out of the van ...... and run along side of it not only up hill on a mountain top, but also in the middle of the desert. This idea actually works and the van stops overheating, but all of us being so incredibly athletic were in pretty bad shape after about 3 minutes. We hop back in the van after it pulled up on the side of the road for us and think : After going up for so long, you gotta go back down right? We take the van at a whooping 5 miles an hour for a while until we reach the peak and descend towards San Diego. The sunset here is gorgeous and very high up.
I fall asleep again and wake up driving somewhere downtown next to the venue, as I now find out from Ryan I missed out on an incredible R.Kelly jam session being played in the van. We walk down the block realizing there's no food, and then split up to find food. Myself, Brett, Carl, and Dan Mowan got Pizza king and the rest of us opted for more Thai food. The pizza was horrible and Carl got a hamburger the size of a small child.
The Soda bar was a swanky place with no one in it, it used to be a dive bar called Chasers that Rumi played at over their last summer tour which was a funny coincidence. Brett and myself are outside smoking a butt and who comes walking down the street?1?1?!??!?!??!?! Samantha!!!!!!!!
Brett and Sam are happily reunited after weeks of being apart and we are all very excited for the breath of fresh air from someone coming to see us allll the way from NY!
Good thing she came, because she was the only one who watched us tonight besides the bar tender. At least the Arrogant Bastard beer was strong and bad tasting.
People get split up and I end up back at Andrew's where his fridge is raidddded (thank you!!) along with 2 bottles of wine. Everyone gets a great night of sleep, and sunny San Diego is on the menu for tomorrow.
Waking up here was something else. The sun and the smell of the pacific was intoxicating, the palm tree's over head shaded any doubts that this was the wrong place to be and gave California the alien feel from not visiting nearly enough. Our stuff is loaded and we get loaded, pick up Sam and Brett and head to a place for breakfast they found for REAL FOOD. Down town Diego we walk around and marvel, pass a box community that didn't look cool to park our van at, and arrive at this very hip coffee house/resturant.
The Vince Vega: Coca Cola / Vanialla Syrup / Espresso = amazingness.
The plates of food each one of us got were perfect in every way, delicious in every way, and just damn fucking good.
Where to now on this beautiful day? THE BEACH!!!!!!! Harrison asks a worker at Mission for a good spot to go, and they recommend Coronado. I take the wheel now after the walk back to the van and we head down the city streets. I see a BIG bridge off in the distance, but its slowly approaching our general path of direction. Soon we realize were going over this thing that is HIIIGH up there with no real barriers on the sides and Carl starts to ball up in fright. The view on the top of this thing was incredulous. The open Pacific, Mountains, City, and a Chinook flying over head was too much. The bridge was scary but the view makes up for it.
We get back on ground to this beautiful little island that is swarming with beautiful women at every turn. On the walk to the beach we drool at the architecture of the million dollar beach houses and beautiful women, and once we get to the rocks separating the sand from the road we exclaim out loud and run, "MANIFEST DESTINY BITCHES!!" We fucking made it. The ocean is there, the sun and the sand, the isle's in the background, it is too much.
All of us run down the sand to the water, there is beautiful black sentiment in the sand by the water and there is smiles all around. A serious game of catch is played between everyone at some point, lots of laughs and happy faces. We all end up splitting up to walk around town and I end up on the beach by myself to read and enjoy the crashing of the enormous waves. At one point an F-16 flew over head and ripped apart sound itself as it came in for a landing, a troop plane went to land as well, and an aircraft carrier went docking in the bay.
I walked around myself too after it got a little chilly and found Kia and Carl walking about. It felt like we lived here, they saw me sitting in the park and screamed out - "Oh Hey Justin! Nice to see you here!".
A while went by and we all found ourselves in the van once again driving towards the venue. Finding a parking spot took 30 minutes and once we did we walked over to a coffee shop. I got in touch with my friend JoAnna who said she could make it to the show and was going to bring a friend, we got another show to play in LA, and most of us ate some kind of food (not me).
This was the 20th of February, the day of Obama. The venue is filled with balloons and looks really cool. The sound people are nice and for once we have decent monitors. A lot of time is spent on a sound check (more than we usually can afford) and the place starts to fill up so much we could barely get drinks before taking the stage. While standing outside I see JoAnna pull up in a cab with her friend Kelly and they begin the horrible process of meeting all 8 of us. Thank you two for coming!!!!!!!!!
Rumi goes on first tonight and fun times are had. People dance, Obama is being shouted left and right - The Test Dream goes on, more Joe Biden is shouted. Then the DJ takes the speakers and everyone dances some more, drinks some more, telephone poles are punched, great times.
The 9 of us invade Andrew's house for one more night until the sun comes up and we must undertake our drive to LA for haircuts and the Knitting Factory.
In the Valley we spend our time at the Salon and Starbucks next door, writing postcards and drinking tea. Andrea hooked up haircuts for all of us (except me, there twas no time) and they all looked great! Thank you Andrea for everything!
After spending some 5 odd hours there it is time to hit up the LA traffic to make it to Hollywood. Before we even pull up to the Knitting Factory, or knew where it was, we see a line going dooooowwnnn the block. We think, "This is for us??!??! This is where all our fans are????!?!" .......... No no no no, they were going to the Knitting Factory, but they were going to see Metro Station! The room we were playing in, the "Alternative Lounge", is a separate room right next to the main room.
The van stops, and everyone gives us strange stares. Dan runs up and down the line handing out CD's and stickers, I walk inside to see our room and see Hannah Montana's brother sound checking, and the security guards give us a very hard time with loading in. First we can walk through the main room, then they tell us to pull up on Hollywood Blvd, then they tell us to pay for underground parking where our van can't even fit and load up escalators. Kia yells after the man say's he's trying to help us and says, "THIS IS NOT HELP MAN, WTF", in which the guard responded, "Fuck it, load through the main room."
The 8 of us THROW everything out of the trailer in front of the throngs of Metro Station fans and run in and out of the building 20 times each until everything is inside. The Knitting Factory was nice enough to give us 1 drink ticket each, which I used in the first 3 minutes of being inside our empty little room. LA is hard to get a good show and after San Diego, it wasn't really minded to have a bust. My Uncle came by to hear us and I met him outside a few minutes before Rumi went on.
Besides playing pretty much for each other, Lee, Max, Adam and Andrea came by to listen which was very cool. After TTD played we packed up and brought all the stuff out onto Hollywood Blvd to pack up. This took awhile, Brett got really sick, and we mostly bullshited with people passing us and asking us what the hell we were doing.
See now, this was the night of Season 5 premiere of Lost. The original plan was to get some Kush and lay back but that never happened. People were splitting off into 30 different directions and somehow myself Carl and Dan ended up in a very bad area of LA in which someone walked up to us and said, "Please you need to get out of here now."
We did get to smoke the OG Thai, but there was no Lost. Lee invited us all over for a bit where we rolled some stuff up that put me in another world. The walk back to the van felt like the first days of smoking. The foliage of California crept into my mind like a never ending growing weed and settled quite neatly in a place that was forgotten; left to overgrow and rot then turn into something beautiful.
LA has kept most of us apart, right now I am still at Adam's house - which by the way him and his family are some of the kindest, warm hearted people I've ever met. Here with me now is Ryan, Carl, Brett, Dan, and on the way is Harrison and Derek. Kia is somewhere and Sam left on a plane last night :(
Yesterday was our first day off in over a week and it was a much needed relaxtion. Besides you know, our transmission on the van blowing out on the freeway. Yes, our transmission is gone. The funny thing is we were driving the van to get a new thermostat put in, and on the 134 heading towards Glendale we stop accelerating and the engine makes some weird noises. We coast until it reaches 0mph and luckily we had a nice big shoulder to pull over onto. Try to start the van again, it turns on but doesn't go anywhere when the gas is pushed. Tow time!
LAPD pulls over by our van to check out what's going on, and Ryan is just emptying a cup of urine on the ground (he takes a lot of vitamins and couldn't really hold it in any longer). He asks what is going on, we tell him were getting towed, he tells us the other car that was following the van has to leave. I leave with Adam and Ryan, we get Mexican food, smoke, jam out for most of the day, eat hash lollipops, more music, got some food in the Valley, had some party time, watched 12 minutes of Lost and couldn't stay up any longer.
The next day is a day of mass confusion. We do have a gig at Spaceland which looks like it might not happen. This all depends on us getting our repaired van back on time. They say 3pm, and we actually get it back at 3pm. Well not get it back, because half of us are in Winnetka and the other half in Echo Park - all of our money must be pulled together to pay for this damned thing. So there is a convoy that goes out to collect the money from all of us, then takes Kia to the van to pay for the damned thing.
This is assuming that we can go back and forth through LA traffic, re-attach the trailer, pack up our belongings, and make it to the show on time.
Well somehow (I don't know how) but this all happens accordingly. We get to Spaceland and after explaining to these nice people how the only reason we took the show in the first place was to have people there, seemed like the whole thing was a just a set up. There was no one there, nor did many people actually come. It was explained how if we took the show we'd have a 16 hour drive opposed to two shorter drives. It was explained that we didn't need the show and could use the day off. But no, it was promised to be good and good it was not.
The room was devoid of any sort of human presence besides my uncle and aunt, our friends Lee and Mia and a few other random characters that somehow Kia knew. We played short sets because of the drive, but somehow ended up hanging out for far longer than we should have.
Eventually, the van was packed up. This time however with the fear of faulting our newly rebuilt transmission we decided to pack up some of the equipment inside of the van to take some weight off the trailer. This made good with the people inhabiting the trailer, who couldn't find rest to begin with without amplifiers blocking their already non-existant leg room.
What was done was done, and we all packed in for one very long fuck of a drive. I fell asleep almost right away so I can't say what happened on the first leg of the drive. I did wake up however sometime around 3am, and the visibility of the road was about 2 feet. The fog was commanding the road and we were not. Derek was driving and I don't think he knew what to do. It looked dangerous and scary, so like everyone else but the navigator in the front seat - I went back to sleep.
When I woke up the next time is where the pain really started to show, which is why I am where I am right now. I got out of the van to urinate at the gas station and told Carl I had a weird pain on my back that had been there from the day before. I think Carl was too tired and sick himself to really care, as he proceeded to smoke his cigarette and not respond. I doubted myself and wrote it off as something that would magically disappear as it had begun. Thus I took the drivers seat and maned the road towards San Fransico.
The countryside was beautiful. The rolling hills of California are not something to be tampered with. They are certainly rolling and beautiful. Our wonderful GPS system guided me off the highway for some reason, and took me down a road that lead us straight through Oakdale. It was a pleasant view out the window but soon we were approaching some sort of large bridge that hopefully would take us into San Fransico. It did, it did. We drove around, looking for Kia's friends house and parking - the parking wasn't to be found but Kia's friend's was. So we all dropped him off and wished him luck (wink) and continued on our journey to park the spaceship.
I was at helm of the wheel and parking was not showing itself. We drove around for quite the amount of time before I thought I saw something and screamed very loud. It of course was a false alarm and we continued down more winding narrow streets. Eventually we found a spot, only it required a parallel park. I, not being the best at parking the trailer, made a solid attempt at this duty. I couldn't sadly after many an attempt trying, but there was a 30 minute parking spot on the opposite side of the street. Whiissshhhl; a quick u-turn and were parked! We all step outside the van after about 11 hours of driving and feel real ground under our feet. Bathroom time!!!!
All of us scramble to find a pisser (or shitter), and before thats even taken care of we run into Lance. Now Lance is a motherfucker, and a motherfucker that IS to be delt with. Lance met Rumi two tour's ago and hopped right in the van for the rest of the duration. He is a character of soul, heart, and vulgar jokes. He hugged us all, shouted his swagger upon the streets, and led us in the direction of much needed food.
I was happy to see this fuck, here, of all places after a dizzying drive. It makes sense that he would come to my aid now, I think. There is a dinner Kia and his friend are at now that myself Ryan and Dan don't really like the looks of, so Lance leads us else where. We walk, talk, bullshit, get veggie burgers. They are over priced but the food tastes too good to care. After we are done, Lance magically pulls out a spliff that makes our legs wobble after the first hit. Great job buddy.
He tells us how he is going to Japan in a week to teach english for a full year, and his plans to turn the country upside with his debaucheries. We believe him.
Back to the diner where everyone else is, Kia has somehow spilt hot sauce across the entire side walk and a waitress is cleaning up the mess. They are done eating and Kia has to walk his friend back home. We follow, and get very very very high in the process.
Back at the van, we say bye to our dear friend Lance. We exchange some insults, and he slams the doors and locks us in; cursing that he couldn't be stuck inside with us. The engine turns on and we leave. I man the wheel another time, destine to push further into the unknown.
The streets of San Fran are not forgiving. The hills are vertical inclines that your mind could not wrap itself around. We struggle up one hill, then another, then another. Eventually we overheat and have to double park on a road where trollies must make serious maneuvers to avoid hitting us. This is all necessary because we are about to travel over the Golden Gate Bridge.
After man a hill, up and down respectively, we sight the monstrosity. It looms over the water like a sacred object, beaconing to be fooled with. Myself, I am currently high out of my skull and can feel the fear - which is something that only pulls me closer to the source. I must conquer this beast at all costs. My butt hurts but it doesn't matter. This is a once in a life-time opportunity.
Once our tires hit the beginning, eyes went flying in all directions. There was a side walk full of people gulling the sights, there was a road full of speedy drivers. I not being one of them, took the view into consideration and lulled myself into some sort of confidence that I was able to undertake this serious task.
When we were over the novelty ended, and soon my butt pain became too much. I quickly told someone they had to drive and pulled the damn van over. I laid down, after driving from 7:00 am (it was now around 3), it was time for rest. My rest however was broken by the urgent need to urinate badly (twice), as I told the driver to pull over immediately on the side of the road.
The drive was beautiful, although we could not see - because we were driving through parts of the Redwood Forest. I slept most of the way and woke up to chaos. Harrison apparently drove down a dead end street once we finally reached Arcata (in search of K street) and couldn't maneuver the van out of the mess. I jumped out to spot him and soon we were on our way. But to where? We couldn't find this damned K street and decided to ask some locals:
"Hey do you know how we can get to K street? It's closed over there."
Locals, "ooohhhhhhh mannn, K street is likeeeee, clooosssedddd? Bummmmmmerr man!"
Us, "Yeah it appears that K street has a natural rock formation that has seemingly always permitted cars from passing."
Locals, "K street is like closed man, that's totally not cool mannnnnnn. Theres, like, a, long, way, that, you, could, totally, like, take, but, that, would, be, so, out, of, the, waaaaayyyyy."
Us, "Its cool, we'll figure something out."
Locals, "Bummer man, be careful, that sucks K street is totally shut down man, maybe......."
It went something like that, but we drove away while the hippies dribbled their filth upon the wet damp Arcata pavement. We were here though, and that was awesome. No more driving!
Finally K street was found, as well as Mosgo's coffee shop. Kia immediately began talking about getting paid (which we weren't) so he convinced them to give us all free food.
We loaded in, talked to some people, ate food, played, and had someone trade us a 1/4 of the best weed in the country for a t-shirt. Seriously this was so much weed that it was actually a problem; we were due to head to Oregon tomorrow where marijuana is not as accepted as California and had to get rid of it all before then. Good thing Dan's aunt (who were were staying with for the night (yeah, an aunt that lives an hour an a half from Arcata California, in the middle of the Redwood Forest. Go figure) lived a distance away through the Redwoods - which gave us all a chance to smoke it.
Wow did we get high, wow was this drive intense. First off, Dan's uncle did not know how to let someone follow them. He was zipping through these winding mountainous roads like it was nothing! Through the fog, up hills, down hills, it didn't matter. Ryan had the most dangerous drive out of anyone for taking this responsibility, and he somehow managed while smoking some serious outdoor weed.
I felt like I was on another planet. Looking at this forest, that road, was something out of a book I wished at the moment I never read. I was scared. I kept thinking the tires would slip and we'd be off a cliff. Maybe I just got too high. However, Dan's aunt promised us a plethora of food and beds when we arrived so it seemed worth the peril. Dan's aunt and uncle most certainly pulled through. Before reaching their house, we were running out of gas. Not only were we running out of gas, but we were driving through the Redwood Forest with our gas light on. Certainly not the best of ideas.
Somehow we magically made it into town, and Dan's uncle bought us $50 of gas. THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!!
They had prepared mountains of food which all of us eagerly took of their table. There was a pool table that Derek could not escape with Dan's uncle, and some weed that the rest of us couldn't escape not smoking. We rolled it up in the trailer that half of us would be sleeping in (yes, like a camping trailer), and got even more high. At this point it was certainly stupid how high we really were. Humbult county, I've been told has the best marijuana in the country. We had been smoking copious amounts of it. Whatever.
My pain was getting worse, but I though it would be fine in the morning. I had a nice couch to sleep on, I took a nice shower.....
Morning rolls around and I can barely move now. Can't bend over, walking hurts, my butt hurts.
I pack up my stuff bitterly and get in the van. Salem OR next stop, and nothing is stopping us. I forget the cold compress that Dan's aunt offered me and bite my tounge. More Redwood Forest ahead.
We still have so much weed it's stupid, and the Oregon border is only getting closer. What better time to get high than driving through the most beautiful scenery in the country? Massive joint, after massive joint, we all to say safely, got very fucking high. The tree's looked like a rain-forest from the planet holy shit. There was moss that ran across every inch of everything, tree trunks that spanned city blocks. Once we hit Oregon though, it changed.
The roads suddenly were labeled: "6% grade", it started sleeting, fears began to arise amongst the ranks. Brett was at wheel and commanded the road with proper attention and skill. Thank you Brett, I thought we were going to die, for real.
Again I fell asleep because I couldn't take being so damned high and in the weirdest pain I've ever felt, so I woke up in Salem. I was not happy. I felt sick, I felt pain, I felt resentment to whatever the hell made me this way. I laid down in the van for most of the night and rested. I played the show but I couldn't tell you much that happened that night because it hurt.
Somehow we ended up in Portland that night, I had no idea we were driving there but when the van stopped and everyone piled out - thats where we were. Alyssa's house! This would come to be our home for the next few days. She was sleeping but let us in somehow, and we took over. Her entire apartment was covered by the likes of us. Soon we all fell asleep because it was late, and went to dream land.
I woke up to Harrison rummaging through his belongings, I had no idea what time it was but I couldn't sleep none the less. I was in more pain than last night and needed to stretch, or something. So I took the walk with Harry to a laundry matt near by (by the help of an iPhone) and a coffee shop to get some eats. I told Harry I needed to see a doctor that day over breakfast, and looked up some places to go.
When we reconvened with the rest of the bunch, arrangements were made to take me to some sort of free health clinic. Harry and Dan submitted to the deed, and helped me on my way. After finally figuring out how to get on the highway (yes, the was a serious task that involved 2 iPhones, a GPS, and directions of one local biker) we made it there. Thats when the waiting started.
I got to read at least 100 pages of Dune, then was finally seen by a doctor. They told me I had a Pilonidal Csyt. Fuck.
At least now I knew my pain wasn't magical or non-existant; it was most certainly real and tangible. It's okay, I had the night to rest and a show the next day. They gave me some med's, some liquid Codeine for the cough I had, it would be fine.
The next day rolls around and we have to drive to Eugene. The pain has not lessened, but increased and I lay down the entire ride there. We roll up the venue (which is huuugggee and nice) but there is no one there. Indigo District likes to front like this.
They do have cheap food that is very tasty, I get a grilled cheese and love it so. Kia is telling me someone wants to buy my amp, has him come to the show, and as were setting up he comes in with it. I really don't want to part with my Orange, as much as I don't think it's the best sounding amp it doesn't matter. I went through so much shit to get it and it's not something I wish to ever part with. Kia is insisting so much on this other amp, he ends up taking it from the guy. He tests it out during our set, but I can't really tell. I am in so much fucking pain from bending down to connect all my wires that everything from here becomes blurry. By the time we are done playing I feel like I need some morphine.
I go to the van and lay down while everyone drinks some more, then when they pile back in the van its McDonalds time. Everyone orders food, a lot of us want a double cheeseburger. They don't have double cheeseburgers, they have a "McDouble".
Carl, "Whats a McDoooouuubbbbllllleeeeee?"
You had to be there, I can't explain Carl but if you know him you might understand. Everyone died laughing and almost died farting. I almost died because of the pain, as it hit the peak of how fucking much it hurt.
We met someone at the show, River, who offered us a place to stay. River was in high-school and was in a band that played with us that night, had to be up early the next morning. Somehow we make it to his house and somehow I manage to walk to his house.
By the time I reach his basement I'm ready for an axe to hack at my back to make it feel better. I was delirious and everyone being drunk and loud did not help. As my blankets are being prepared on the floor by Brett (thank you bud), someone else lays out a blanket and finds a big-betsy of a spider inside it. I freak, I say I haveee to go back to the van to sleep. I can't do spiders. I am so tired and in pain that I decide to tough it out, and slowly plop on the floor. Everyone continues being loud, and I don't sleep a wink the entire night from the pain.
Around 5:00 am I stand up because it hurts so much and I have to do something. I go outside to smoke a cigarette to distract me, but it fails poorly. I realize there is a shower downstairs and plan to take full advantage. Not caring how much noise it's going to make to do so, I turn the bitch on. I get in there, full heat blast, I'm standing in there ass-out to get the most pain relief possible. What do I see? Crawling up the side of the shower curtain? Monster spider!
Just what I need, to battle one of these beasts now.
I take the toilet plunger and get to work. I whack at the curtain to attempt to make the damned thing fall to the ground for accurate squishing and it takes a couple of attempts and fails. Finally the thing is on the ground, and I do the deed of soaking it in hand sanitizer (it sounds cruel, but hey. I was in no position to care at this moment). I get back in the shower for another hour of relief before the hot water starts to run out. I go back to my sleeping position and stand there in agony.
After awhile, River wakes up for school. He wakes everyone else up, and I tell everyone else that I NEED to see a doctor again. I also need to eat on the account I chugged the rest of my liquid codeine to ease the pain, and am feeling very nauseous at this point. This brings River to make us all pancakes.
We eat breakfast with River and his Dad, then part ways. Thank you River!!!
In the van, I lay down again and try to regain some sleep. We stop back in Salem on the way to Portland for Harrison to recover his re-directed mail from home. He actually receives it, and we head back to Alyssa's.
When we arrive there, I still haven't gotten a call back from my Doc. I stay in the van while everyone else eats because I can't move, but finally I decide to call back and see what's going on. They tell me to come back in! Awesome, so I tell someone to get the fuck over to the van and drive me. This is done, and I am dropped back off at the clinic at 3:30pm. Keep that time in mind.
I STAND there until 5:30 pm because I simply cannot sit; it is too painful. I am finally seen by a different doctor this time, one whose first instinct is to take his thumb and push is directly into the cyst with the most possible amount of pressure. This is true pain, and the story only gets worse and bloody from here; so stop reading if you can't take it.
From this "assessment", the doc say's it has to be drained immediately. I started to freak because I am about to have a hole cut into me by someone in Oregon whom I don't know at all and have no way to get home. It hurts so much at this point I don't give a fuck.
So he leaves me in the room for a minute wearing nothing but this "bed-sheet" like robe that I was supplied with; it has to straps to wrap around my back so I tie the entire thing like a big bib around my neck. Again I'm in so much pain I don't care.
The doc finally comes back in the room rolling a cart with various surgical supplies on it. I lay down on the table anxious, and scared.
When he started to prepare the area I freak and say I need to call home. I need to find out if I should be doing any of this right now or if I should travel to NY to get sliced. It's made clear to me that it has to happen now, and when he comes back in the room I give him the go ahead. BIG MISTAKE.
The needle with the anesthetic comes to my exposed back and sticks me once, twice, and then there is a brief pause. The doctor doesn't ask me if its numb, doesn't give a courtesy poke to tell, just sticks the knife into the infected mass on my coccyx. Just tells me I'll feel a pinch. YEAH RIGHT.
I feel every turn of the blade as he cuts the bag open, pushing the scalpel deeper and deeper to drain the puss. He does this many a time, and finally puts the thing down. I'm biting on my hand because I've never felt so much pain as this moment and fear I'm going to break my finger. Then he starts to squeeze.
I reconfigure my decisions of how much pain I've been in, because this simply is it. He takes the soar skin and puts it in between his fingers, lets the puss out.........then tells me to smell it. Yes, he tells me to smell it. Where I am on the table I can get a faint idea but decline. I can barely form a moan at this point. He continues to squeeze and squeeze until he begins to insert the gauze. I again reconfigure my idea of how much pain I've been in. This is it.
After the gauze goes in, he does ONE wipe of the blood and says "you better take care of this, see a surgeon when you get home because this is the most disgusting substance I have ever seen", and leaves the room. I assume it's bad, but not as bad as I am soon to find out. He also leaves the door completely open with my "bib" swinging in the wind. After walking down the hallway, he does though come back and close the door and apologize.
I empty an entire box of gauze to clean up the blood and nothing is changing. I am soaking the paper on one swipe. Next I move to the box is tissues, and nothing is changing. Blood is seemingly pouring out and wont stop. I'm in more pain than I began with and decide to give up. I pull up my shorts and start to make my very slow pace out of the doctors office. Blood is dripping out my shorts but no one stops me and I certainly don't stop myself. He prescribed me pain med's and damned if I was to be stopped on my way to get them. Or so I think.
I don't stop at the check out counter, instead I slowly walk by starring down the receptionists who witnessed me standing on my feet for 2 hours without doing anything. They in return don't do anything and I walk out of the building.
The van is there waiting for me and I tell them right away I have to go home. Whatever just happened has fucked me up beyond what I consider to be fucked up and I need some pain medication NOW.
We find a Walmart that has my med's in stock (they have $4 prescriptions without health insurance) so we go there. Making my way to the pharmacy was fun, especially since I could walk at a pace of a 99 year old. They tell me an hour and a half. Great, because the van has to leave with everyone to get to a show. Dan stays with me though and keeps me company. We eat Subway, go to the bathroom, and by the time I can walk back over to the pharmacy an hour has gone by. Only when I get there they say, they don't have the key for the narcotics.
Of course, something has to get fucked up. Dan and myself scream at the people behind the counter demanding why they didn't tell us this in the first place. I tell them there is no way I can wait until tomorrow, considering the van is leaving for Seattle the next day. They scurry around behind the counter and eventually tell me that there is a 24 Walgreens that carries what I need. Great, because the van is now an hour away setting up equipment.
So Dan and I wait, and wait we do. We play Big Buck Hunter and drink Pepsi as we wait for Carl to take us to Walgreens. I want to break Carl's legs because he takes forever and then some, rolls up at Walmart at 10pm. We get to Walgreens annnndddd 45 minute wait to get pharms filled!!!!!!!
I again, sit there by myself this time and wait. An hour goes by and I finally get some relief. It is now 11pm and I have still been standing (causing so much more pain) since 3:30pm. My ride doesn't come from the show until close to 12am but by that time I am in spaceland. I don't care, don't know what's going on, but I am overwhelmed by the saddening sense that this tour cannot continue.
When I finally reconvene with the rest of the group everyone has somehow heard of the horror story that had taken place. Everyone is sad that I must part, and I am befuddled with what is actually happened. I missed Jizz Wizard play and that was one of the highlights of the tour for me.
Back to Alyssa's one more time, I asked her if I could crash for a day or two until I could fly somewhere and ship my stuff back to NY and she agrees. I spend one more night with the bro's.
Next morning we all wake up angry and upset with what has to happen. The conditions which gave me the cyst (sitting in one place for too long, being in a bumpy van) are absolutely not the conditions I require to recover from something that could reoccur. We eat Veggie Thai one more time and then say our goodbyes. I watch the van leave with out me, its horn blowing a little softer this time.
The next day and a half way madness, figuring out plane tickets and expenses to ship my belongings back to NY. Originally the plan way to head to LA to stay with my uncle to recover in the warm sunny weather, but JoAnna offered me a place to stay in San Diego. So currently I am here, after nearly missing my flight due to forgetting my wallet in Alyssa's apartment, barely being able to withstand sitting down on a plane, but I am here. The sun is now going down on my first day away truely away from the van, my band, and my tribe of friends. This has all been completely out of left field, out of the blue, and jumping into something unexpected and unwanted.
So back to the Pacific, even though I never left I am back where it was started. San Diego I shall stay until something else moves me, but I wish the best of luck to my brothers sharing the big white stupid van somewhere in Washington. God-speed to you all, and don't sit in one spot for too long, else you end up like me. Staying with a Navy nurse in the warmth of one of the most beautiful places in this country.
Butt hurt.
<3 Sketch
Manifest Destiny, burrito's, Chai-Guy, the Sonoran Desert; nothing could get in our way. Today was the day the 9 of us (Samantha flew in from NY because she misses us all sooo much!) touched with our own 18 bare feet's the sand of the West Coast. It has been a whirlwind, throwing us all about the country in such an in and out (animal style burger) manor - with internet connections few and far between and time swirling around the clock as we drive in the wrong direction; updates have been difficult. To make it up to you all's, 500+ pictures were recently uploaded to this here computing machine that will be available as soon as I can get some more free time. Austin Texas was where we left off, but we missed out on updating about the great times in Oklahoma:
Norman, Oklahoma! ................ It was kinda like that. The "venue" we played at was a DYI deal, a large house that gave a roof to 17 people and lots of sultry nooks and crannies. Universe City is what the place goes by night; and when we straggled in from the van in the bitter cold of nowhere land (sticks, boonies, twigs, walmart land), our mouths were stuffed with freshly cooked food that made us all happy once again. After hanging out for an hour or two, it was a general realization we all had that no one else was coming out to the show besides the 17 people who lived in the house. Some of us got cranky, some of us laughed, some of us got drunk.
Whilst loading in the equipment to the dingy basement in which we were to play, there was 64 too many farts going on in a closed space that seriously haltered the process of actually setting up - however once it was done we all marveled at our wall of amplifiers and pieces of metal. A few more people did actually show up and after doing some mingling and laughing, TTD took the "stage".
The sound in there was rough and loud, but it didn't stop the dancing from shaking the house. People were extra generous and made donations and bought merch, thanks to all of you!!
After playing we continued to laugh and chat and drink some more. The house slowly started to eerily resemble a haunted house from Scooby Doo; with all its doors and hallways and people walking out of one door to the other, down the stairs and out of the bathroom. It was cold that night. Very, very cold but we (I) was lucky to have a raging fireplace in the room with the couch that I happened to score that night and learned a neat-o trick from someone about how to choke the fire to make it bigger. 14 blankets and 3 hours later, it was time to leave. Alllllll aboard the van - were off to Austin Texas this time.
This ride was filled with some anger and rage as we mistakingly took a wrong highway straight through Dallas (lots-o-traffic, the most we hit so far all tour) instead of driving around the city. Luckily we had Harrison behind the wheel who plowed down the interstate honking and waving his NY fists into the air.
We barely make it to the venue on time, the first band was setting up their equipment. Free drink tickets are handed out, we see some friends Robby and Danielle and fun times are had. Thanks again for putting us up!
Austin went by too quick for what seemed like an awesome place; we were there for all of 8 hours MAYBE, before the ridiculously long drive through the ridiculously long, big and cattle-filled state of Tehas.
Ryan somehow accumulated over 2000+ cows in a little game Harrison calls, "My Cows" and I gave up with my 1 and 3/4 cow. This went on for a while, as Lubbock Texas is far and north. I wake up delirious and needing food on some residential street some 8 or 9 hours later, glad to finally get out of the van. The venue for the night is called "The Bright House" and we're all very sad that we got to play its last show.
The house lived up to its name with brightly colored walls and cute pets (KLAUSE!!!) running around in all directions. We asked around and finallllllllllllly found some decent green peace (which we saved for later on) and some Subway Sandwiches. The show went over amazing well - thanks to everyone there being amazing and supportive. We do have this on film, but SOMEONE lost the friggin' camera charger that has not been recovered since this said night. So, once we find it or buy one there will be a video for your optical and auditory pleasure. OH, Ingrid made the BEST carrot-ginger soup which was eating up like warm butter on toast, or eggs with pepper. Whichever one you prefer.
After the show we hung out and rolled up some piff. Kia got a little (a lot) sick and left a piece of him on the floor in the backyard. Moogly, the cute introverted backyard dog watched from a distance and radiated and bestowed his wisdom upon us. The piff was done with and I needed a sleeping bag to house me for the night since the Motel 6 in Dalton Georgia apparently stole my floral blanket and pillow. What's a better idea than getting really high and wandering about the largest Walmart imaginable? Oh, if you Wiki Lubbock Texas.......it's known as "the town of 5 Walmarts".
Myself, Harrison, Carl and Dan Mowan hopped into the big space-ship (at this point) van and didn't have to travel more than three minutes before reaching our destination. Of course! the GPS managed to somehow misdirect us for yet another time, but the delay was funny and we all laughed at how shady we looked in a big white van pulling out of the college campus that apparently the GPS thought was a Walmart. Upon reaching our destination, this place was big. It looked like it was its own city sky-line, it looked like it could house roughly 5000 people. Instead it sells cheap goods that more often than not brake and are unsatisfactory.
I finished my shopping within the first 20 minutes, Carl and Dan took a little special time together for an hour and 1/2. During this "time" that I wandered around, I made it to the coin-op machines by the entrance. Harrison waddles tired and lost over to me after awhile and he watches me suffer the pangs of a claw machine. It was .50 to play and I ended up spending $5 trying to get this damned thing that I would pick up EVERY time and have it drop closer and closer to the glory hole. At one point I had 2 times 5 nickels and 5 pennies in which I exchanged for 2 quarters - only to have the machine eat my money. At this point in my life I said fuck the machine, and demanded a refund of my change to further the claw machine antics. During this process the Walmart employee unfortunate enough to be servicing me at 2:00 am on a Sunday night was an odd fellow who claimed to be of a British Royal Bloodline. ?????? Yes, shheoo he gives me a slip to fill out with my name and phone number and hands me my 2 quarters back. I loose again, play some Big Buck Hunting (the only game available) after listening to its demo music for an hour it seemed to enticing to pass up anymore.
So that was Walmart.
Sleep, wake up to everyone sprawled out on the floor and couches around me along with all of our equipment still partially set up. Ingrid makes vegan pancakes which everyone devoured and we spark up one more time before the haul to New Mexico.
This drive I think I slept a good amount because I don't remember much, I think I drove for a bit. No one likes to let you drive the van, everyone is always trying to jump on the opportunity for some reason. Whatever.
I wake up to Albuquerque in a haze and the 8 of us scramble for some kind of sustenance that isn't gas station food. Some get Thai, some get shitty Italian buffet. I was the later, and the walk over there we saw some interesting characters in this New Mexico place. The whole night was filled with some very strange folk.
The food is eaten, and we all reconvene at Burk's Tiki (lounge). The place looks like a Friday's turned upside down and shaken up real well, with a stage in a very odd place - a huge Hawaiian mural painted on its back wall. We notice there's a map of Long Island hanging on the stage wall, which we later learned there is apparently some weird connection between Long Island and New Mexico. Very strange stuff.
A lot of people file in from off the streets (you don't really want to hang out on them for too long, there's far too many people willing to talk to you about absolutely nothing and mostly creepy). Burk's Tiki is mostly filled. The bar area is huge and thats packed but closer to the door when the stage is there is some open space. Rumi and The Test Dream play, a very nice lady buys Ryan a shot and hands it to him on stage. The night went pretty late here because we had to wait for the bar to close to collect our $$. There was mention of a party but it was never found, so we drove back to a friends house we made for the night and there was somewhat of a party there (mostly bong rips).
Him and his girlfriend were extremely kind people, it was a shame we had a 9 hour drive to Tucson Arizona to undertake and couldn't go get breakfast with them or spend any further time. This is when things went bad.
About an hour and change into the drive, one Kia Jun wakes up from the back bench seats and says, "Hey guys where are we?"
A respond to the effect of "Not on the highway were suppose to be on."
Kia says, "WHAT THE FUCK" until we pull into a gas station and all pull our hair out realizing we were traveling in a rough direction headed towards the mountainous region of Flagstaff Arizona. Bad Bad Bad. Time was already of essence making it to Tucson on time and we pretty much just fucked our only chance of making it there on time. Instead of taking a route that would cut our way back to the highway we were suppose to take, we bite the bullet and turn 180 degrees back to Albuquerque. Still more yelling but were driving fast and have the will to make it in time. There can be no stops, we must run the tank down, if you gotta piss do it out the window style, ya' know what I'm saying?
Somewhere in the Arizona desert that we finally reach after the tensions have slightly calmed down, we see a police check-point. We are all thankful we have nothing to hide at this point and after Kia tells the nice officer that were heading to Albuquerque instead of Tucson we worry a tad. The registration for the trailer is not with us (we realize in Arkansas) and we think there could be some problems with that. Luckily he doesn't notice and we continue our very horribly long drive. This drive was so horribly long that we actually passed a town called "Elephant Butte", and when the 8 of our exhausted and miserable bodies saw the sign - none of us could really muster up a chuckle, or decipher if what we saw was real.
At some point we can see the city lights from miles away and were making enough time that we can park the car, run our stuff in and get directly on stage. It happens to the T. We roll up after Logan from Logan Booking holds off the show a bit for us and throw our stuff inside. The contents of our trailer are thrown out into the street, and we make way with the loading in.
There is a decent amount of people there, including my sister Liana and her friend who came along. The Test Dream rocked the house and then when it was time for Rumi to play everything just kinda went wrong - but wrong in a way where everything was still good and no one got angry. I broke a string on the first song and took Ryans guitar as a replacement. This was not a good thing because Ryan had played "Drinking from the Moon" as their closing number and I was soon to notice in the middle of "More" that something was funky with his axe.
Of course on the song I use the top three strings for, all of those strings on Ryan's guitar are thrown off the bridge pegs from violent playing.
Everyone has a good time regardless and we proceed to eat more burrito's. Liana tells us of a nice spot down the block and we marvel at how great mexican food tastes for the 90th time in a row this week. As were eating there is speak of who would be matched up well between us for a wrestling match. Mostly it is agreed upon that Dan Mowan and Carl Bleke should duke it out.
Liana's apartment is next stop for the night to relax and inhale. Her place is nice, has big couches and a fuzzy floor. It is also in an apartment complex that could double for a spring break resort; there are frat parties going on all around us, dudes screaming "Hey dude!", cha-bra's throwing vases off balconies, the whole nine yards. The 8 of us walk threw the chaos and put a flag pole up on my sisters place. Adaptation was watched (with commercials) and laundry was attempted to be done. This is where things went bad.
Harry and Derek (Wing) put up the first load, a big one at that, and into the dryer after a while.............it stops working. I go to inspect and realize that the lint catcher is not only full, but the usual gray is turned to a hot purplish color and is spewing out onto the floor. Great. We fiddle for the rest of the night, somehow it ends up turning back on but works at the rate of 1 tshirt / 3 hours. Most of us fall asleep and after all of us fall asleep we all wake back up in the morning.
Half of us dissipate into the Arizona heat to find a guitar shop and food while a few stay back at Liana's apartment. They take forever and there is a roommate that doesn't appreciate the 8 dudes who just ran threw the apartment. So myself Derek and Brett wait outside for the van to come back and pick us up. We realize California is tomorrow and are still basking in the glory of the desert sun, playing catch by the road and walking around with a whole bunch of wet laundry.
After 30 minutes of waiting the big white van comes, and we flip out about how to find a laundry mat - we almost give up then find someplace by mistake and throw our soggy belongings into the working machine. Most of us hang out by the van with the doors open, smoking the last of our piff before the drive and fixing up equipment. After 20 minutes of laughs and picture taking, Phenix is next!!
Oh the fun times, Phenix is a short drive (for once) and we arrive at a very tasty Thai restaurant and fill our stomachs with good cheap eats. There is much time to kill tonight and myself and Harry Shultz play catch in the parking lot of the Yucca Tap room for awhile, while Ryan attempts to fix his guitar by shoving toothpicks and scotch tape into its many holes and crevices. Kia meets up with some friends and a pin-ball machine is played. We play, drink, and spend way too much time talking to a Navajo Indian that wanted me to buy him beer. That was a wrong wrong wrong choice, as when Brett and I were talking to him and listening to his rant....he RIPPPPPPPSSSSS a fart with the timbre of an orchestra comprised of hot-dog eating champions. He scared us so, especially when he wouldn't leave us alone and we couldn't decide if he wanted to kill us or not. Someone else was unlucky enough to get wrapped up in his nonsense and almost got into a fist-fight with him. The bouncer broke it up, and we proceeded to eat more Mexican food. He Somehow we end up finding someone to stay with again and there is some miscommunication between our friend and his roommate. She heard "2 people" coming, not "2 bands." It ended up being okay, except the floor was kinda hard. We leave pretty quick in the morning after a light of lots of conversations and piffness.
This is where is gets bad. We wake up early, sometime before 10 and make our way on the road. What do we see? For breakfast? In-and-Out Burger? PERFECT! Animal Style this, secret menu that, french fries for Ryan, and bathrooms and farts later. Thats how we do here. Great.
The day is the day to make it to California, this is the day of deserts and mountains and open road. I take a shift somewhere in the Sonoran Desert and head west. I honk my horn once I see the sign welcoming the 8 of us to Cali, and think this drive is by far my favorite. I've been reading the book Dune and it was a happy coincidence to finally see the open desert with my own two eyes while being engulfed in that epic tale. It is beautiful and mysterious, and filled with people on ATV's and dirt bikes climbing rapidly up the dune walls in the hot January sun. Nothing is around, we barely pass a town or two and then begin our accent to the rocky piles towering over the flat land.
Shortly after climbing upwards I notice the heat gauge steadily rising along with our altitude, and without going back down we have to find a spot to pull over our van. There is nothing around us but rocks, sparse vegetation and some crawling desert creature I came across walking along the rocks. It was a tarantula or scorpion - something big brown and fast that scurried about under a rock and to be honest I'm glad I didn't really get a full shot to remain in my memory. Harrison scaled a decent sized wall while the rest of us wandered and pondered about life out here in nowhere land. The gauge went down and Harry took the wheel.
He had the bad shift, the one where the van has to be pulled over every 5 minutes to wait for the engine to cool. We were extremely lucky we left early for this drive and had time to kill and walk around in the desert in the meantime. After about the 4th time being pulled over we came up with a genius idea:
8 dudes + 1 van + 5 Amps + Drums + Merch + Coats + 1 magical food bag*****= a lot weight. The great idea we have is, 7 of us get out of the van ...... and run along side of it not only up hill on a mountain top, but also in the middle of the desert. This idea actually works and the van stops overheating, but all of us being so incredibly athletic were in pretty bad shape after about 3 minutes. We hop back in the van after it pulled up on the side of the road for us and think : After going up for so long, you gotta go back down right? We take the van at a whooping 5 miles an hour for a while until we reach the peak and descend towards San Diego. The sunset here is gorgeous and very high up.
I fall asleep again and wake up driving somewhere downtown next to the venue, as I now find out from Ryan I missed out on an incredible R.Kelly jam session being played in the van. We walk down the block realizing there's no food, and then split up to find food. Myself, Brett, Carl, and Dan Mowan got Pizza king and the rest of us opted for more Thai food. The pizza was horrible and Carl got a hamburger the size of a small child.
The Soda bar was a swanky place with no one in it, it used to be a dive bar called Chasers that Rumi played at over their last summer tour which was a funny coincidence. Brett and myself are outside smoking a butt and who comes walking down the street?1?1?!??!?!??!?! Samantha!!!!!!!!
Brett and Sam are happily reunited after weeks of being apart and we are all very excited for the breath of fresh air from someone coming to see us allll the way from NY!
Good thing she came, because she was the only one who watched us tonight besides the bar tender. At least the Arrogant Bastard beer was strong and bad tasting.
People get split up and I end up back at Andrew's where his fridge is raidddded (thank you!!) along with 2 bottles of wine. Everyone gets a great night of sleep, and sunny San Diego is on the menu for tomorrow.
Waking up here was something else. The sun and the smell of the pacific was intoxicating, the palm tree's over head shaded any doubts that this was the wrong place to be and gave California the alien feel from not visiting nearly enough. Our stuff is loaded and we get loaded, pick up Sam and Brett and head to a place for breakfast they found for REAL FOOD. Down town Diego we walk around and marvel, pass a box community that didn't look cool to park our van at, and arrive at this very hip coffee house/resturant.
The Vince Vega: Coca Cola / Vanialla Syrup / Espresso = amazingness.
The plates of food each one of us got were perfect in every way, delicious in every way, and just damn fucking good.
Where to now on this beautiful day? THE BEACH!!!!!!! Harrison asks a worker at Mission for a good spot to go, and they recommend Coronado. I take the wheel now after the walk back to the van and we head down the city streets. I see a BIG bridge off in the distance, but its slowly approaching our general path of direction. Soon we realize were going over this thing that is HIIIGH up there with no real barriers on the sides and Carl starts to ball up in fright. The view on the top of this thing was incredulous. The open Pacific, Mountains, City, and a Chinook flying over head was too much. The bridge was scary but the view makes up for it.
We get back on ground to this beautiful little island that is swarming with beautiful women at every turn. On the walk to the beach we drool at the architecture of the million dollar beach houses and beautiful women, and once we get to the rocks separating the sand from the road we exclaim out loud and run, "MANIFEST DESTINY BITCHES!!" We fucking made it. The ocean is there, the sun and the sand, the isle's in the background, it is too much.
All of us run down the sand to the water, there is beautiful black sentiment in the sand by the water and there is smiles all around. A serious game of catch is played between everyone at some point, lots of laughs and happy faces. We all end up splitting up to walk around town and I end up on the beach by myself to read and enjoy the crashing of the enormous waves. At one point an F-16 flew over head and ripped apart sound itself as it came in for a landing, a troop plane went to land as well, and an aircraft carrier went docking in the bay.
I walked around myself too after it got a little chilly and found Kia and Carl walking about. It felt like we lived here, they saw me sitting in the park and screamed out - "Oh Hey Justin! Nice to see you here!".
A while went by and we all found ourselves in the van once again driving towards the venue. Finding a parking spot took 30 minutes and once we did we walked over to a coffee shop. I got in touch with my friend JoAnna who said she could make it to the show and was going to bring a friend, we got another show to play in LA, and most of us ate some kind of food (not me).
This was the 20th of February, the day of Obama. The venue is filled with balloons and looks really cool. The sound people are nice and for once we have decent monitors. A lot of time is spent on a sound check (more than we usually can afford) and the place starts to fill up so much we could barely get drinks before taking the stage. While standing outside I see JoAnna pull up in a cab with her friend Kelly and they begin the horrible process of meeting all 8 of us. Thank you two for coming!!!!!!!!!
Rumi goes on first tonight and fun times are had. People dance, Obama is being shouted left and right - The Test Dream goes on, more Joe Biden is shouted. Then the DJ takes the speakers and everyone dances some more, drinks some more, telephone poles are punched, great times.
The 9 of us invade Andrew's house for one more night until the sun comes up and we must undertake our drive to LA for haircuts and the Knitting Factory.
In the Valley we spend our time at the Salon and Starbucks next door, writing postcards and drinking tea. Andrea hooked up haircuts for all of us (except me, there twas no time) and they all looked great! Thank you Andrea for everything!
After spending some 5 odd hours there it is time to hit up the LA traffic to make it to Hollywood. Before we even pull up to the Knitting Factory, or knew where it was, we see a line going dooooowwnnn the block. We think, "This is for us??!??! This is where all our fans are????!?!" .......... No no no no, they were going to the Knitting Factory, but they were going to see Metro Station! The room we were playing in, the "Alternative Lounge", is a separate room right next to the main room.
The van stops, and everyone gives us strange stares. Dan runs up and down the line handing out CD's and stickers, I walk inside to see our room and see Hannah Montana's brother sound checking, and the security guards give us a very hard time with loading in. First we can walk through the main room, then they tell us to pull up on Hollywood Blvd, then they tell us to pay for underground parking where our van can't even fit and load up escalators. Kia yells after the man say's he's trying to help us and says, "THIS IS NOT HELP MAN, WTF", in which the guard responded, "Fuck it, load through the main room."
The 8 of us THROW everything out of the trailer in front of the throngs of Metro Station fans and run in and out of the building 20 times each until everything is inside. The Knitting Factory was nice enough to give us 1 drink ticket each, which I used in the first 3 minutes of being inside our empty little room. LA is hard to get a good show and after San Diego, it wasn't really minded to have a bust. My Uncle came by to hear us and I met him outside a few minutes before Rumi went on.
Besides playing pretty much for each other, Lee, Max, Adam and Andrea came by to listen which was very cool. After TTD played we packed up and brought all the stuff out onto Hollywood Blvd to pack up. This took awhile, Brett got really sick, and we mostly bullshited with people passing us and asking us what the hell we were doing.
See now, this was the night of Season 5 premiere of Lost. The original plan was to get some Kush and lay back but that never happened. People were splitting off into 30 different directions and somehow myself Carl and Dan ended up in a very bad area of LA in which someone walked up to us and said, "Please you need to get out of here now."
We did get to smoke the OG Thai, but there was no Lost. Lee invited us all over for a bit where we rolled some stuff up that put me in another world. The walk back to the van felt like the first days of smoking. The foliage of California crept into my mind like a never ending growing weed and settled quite neatly in a place that was forgotten; left to overgrow and rot then turn into something beautiful.
LA has kept most of us apart, right now I am still at Adam's house - which by the way him and his family are some of the kindest, warm hearted people I've ever met. Here with me now is Ryan, Carl, Brett, Dan, and on the way is Harrison and Derek. Kia is somewhere and Sam left on a plane last night :(
Yesterday was our first day off in over a week and it was a much needed relaxtion. Besides you know, our transmission on the van blowing out on the freeway. Yes, our transmission is gone. The funny thing is we were driving the van to get a new thermostat put in, and on the 134 heading towards Glendale we stop accelerating and the engine makes some weird noises. We coast until it reaches 0mph and luckily we had a nice big shoulder to pull over onto. Try to start the van again, it turns on but doesn't go anywhere when the gas is pushed. Tow time!
LAPD pulls over by our van to check out what's going on, and Ryan is just emptying a cup of urine on the ground (he takes a lot of vitamins and couldn't really hold it in any longer). He asks what is going on, we tell him were getting towed, he tells us the other car that was following the van has to leave. I leave with Adam and Ryan, we get Mexican food, smoke, jam out for most of the day, eat hash lollipops, more music, got some food in the Valley, had some party time, watched 12 minutes of Lost and couldn't stay up any longer.
The next day is a day of mass confusion. We do have a gig at Spaceland which looks like it might not happen. This all depends on us getting our repaired van back on time. They say 3pm, and we actually get it back at 3pm. Well not get it back, because half of us are in Winnetka and the other half in Echo Park - all of our money must be pulled together to pay for this damned thing. So there is a convoy that goes out to collect the money from all of us, then takes Kia to the van to pay for the damned thing.
This is assuming that we can go back and forth through LA traffic, re-attach the trailer, pack up our belongings, and make it to the show on time.
Well somehow (I don't know how) but this all happens accordingly. We get to Spaceland and after explaining to these nice people how the only reason we took the show in the first place was to have people there, seemed like the whole thing was a just a set up. There was no one there, nor did many people actually come. It was explained how if we took the show we'd have a 16 hour drive opposed to two shorter drives. It was explained that we didn't need the show and could use the day off. But no, it was promised to be good and good it was not.
The room was devoid of any sort of human presence besides my uncle and aunt, our friends Lee and Mia and a few other random characters that somehow Kia knew. We played short sets because of the drive, but somehow ended up hanging out for far longer than we should have.
Eventually, the van was packed up. This time however with the fear of faulting our newly rebuilt transmission we decided to pack up some of the equipment inside of the van to take some weight off the trailer. This made good with the people inhabiting the trailer, who couldn't find rest to begin with without amplifiers blocking their already non-existant leg room.
What was done was done, and we all packed in for one very long fuck of a drive. I fell asleep almost right away so I can't say what happened on the first leg of the drive. I did wake up however sometime around 3am, and the visibility of the road was about 2 feet. The fog was commanding the road and we were not. Derek was driving and I don't think he knew what to do. It looked dangerous and scary, so like everyone else but the navigator in the front seat - I went back to sleep.
When I woke up the next time is where the pain really started to show, which is why I am where I am right now. I got out of the van to urinate at the gas station and told Carl I had a weird pain on my back that had been there from the day before. I think Carl was too tired and sick himself to really care, as he proceeded to smoke his cigarette and not respond. I doubted myself and wrote it off as something that would magically disappear as it had begun. Thus I took the drivers seat and maned the road towards San Fransico.
The countryside was beautiful. The rolling hills of California are not something to be tampered with. They are certainly rolling and beautiful. Our wonderful GPS system guided me off the highway for some reason, and took me down a road that lead us straight through Oakdale. It was a pleasant view out the window but soon we were approaching some sort of large bridge that hopefully would take us into San Fransico. It did, it did. We drove around, looking for Kia's friends house and parking - the parking wasn't to be found but Kia's friend's was. So we all dropped him off and wished him luck (wink) and continued on our journey to park the spaceship.
I was at helm of the wheel and parking was not showing itself. We drove around for quite the amount of time before I thought I saw something and screamed very loud. It of course was a false alarm and we continued down more winding narrow streets. Eventually we found a spot, only it required a parallel park. I, not being the best at parking the trailer, made a solid attempt at this duty. I couldn't sadly after many an attempt trying, but there was a 30 minute parking spot on the opposite side of the street. Whiissshhhl; a quick u-turn and were parked! We all step outside the van after about 11 hours of driving and feel real ground under our feet. Bathroom time!!!!
All of us scramble to find a pisser (or shitter), and before thats even taken care of we run into Lance. Now Lance is a motherfucker, and a motherfucker that IS to be delt with. Lance met Rumi two tour's ago and hopped right in the van for the rest of the duration. He is a character of soul, heart, and vulgar jokes. He hugged us all, shouted his swagger upon the streets, and led us in the direction of much needed food.
I was happy to see this fuck, here, of all places after a dizzying drive. It makes sense that he would come to my aid now, I think. There is a dinner Kia and his friend are at now that myself Ryan and Dan don't really like the looks of, so Lance leads us else where. We walk, talk, bullshit, get veggie burgers. They are over priced but the food tastes too good to care. After we are done, Lance magically pulls out a spliff that makes our legs wobble after the first hit. Great job buddy.
He tells us how he is going to Japan in a week to teach english for a full year, and his plans to turn the country upside with his debaucheries. We believe him.
Back to the diner where everyone else is, Kia has somehow spilt hot sauce across the entire side walk and a waitress is cleaning up the mess. They are done eating and Kia has to walk his friend back home. We follow, and get very very very high in the process.
Back at the van, we say bye to our dear friend Lance. We exchange some insults, and he slams the doors and locks us in; cursing that he couldn't be stuck inside with us. The engine turns on and we leave. I man the wheel another time, destine to push further into the unknown.
The streets of San Fran are not forgiving. The hills are vertical inclines that your mind could not wrap itself around. We struggle up one hill, then another, then another. Eventually we overheat and have to double park on a road where trollies must make serious maneuvers to avoid hitting us. This is all necessary because we are about to travel over the Golden Gate Bridge.
After man a hill, up and down respectively, we sight the monstrosity. It looms over the water like a sacred object, beaconing to be fooled with. Myself, I am currently high out of my skull and can feel the fear - which is something that only pulls me closer to the source. I must conquer this beast at all costs. My butt hurts but it doesn't matter. This is a once in a life-time opportunity.
Once our tires hit the beginning, eyes went flying in all directions. There was a side walk full of people gulling the sights, there was a road full of speedy drivers. I not being one of them, took the view into consideration and lulled myself into some sort of confidence that I was able to undertake this serious task.
When we were over the novelty ended, and soon my butt pain became too much. I quickly told someone they had to drive and pulled the damn van over. I laid down, after driving from 7:00 am (it was now around 3), it was time for rest. My rest however was broken by the urgent need to urinate badly (twice), as I told the driver to pull over immediately on the side of the road.
The drive was beautiful, although we could not see - because we were driving through parts of the Redwood Forest. I slept most of the way and woke up to chaos. Harrison apparently drove down a dead end street once we finally reached Arcata (in search of K street) and couldn't maneuver the van out of the mess. I jumped out to spot him and soon we were on our way. But to where? We couldn't find this damned K street and decided to ask some locals:
"Hey do you know how we can get to K street? It's closed over there."
Locals, "ooohhhhhhh mannn, K street is likeeeee, clooosssedddd? Bummmmmmerr man!"
Us, "Yeah it appears that K street has a natural rock formation that has seemingly always permitted cars from passing."
Locals, "K street is like closed man, that's totally not cool mannnnnnn. Theres, like, a, long, way, that, you, could, totally, like, take, but, that, would, be, so, out, of, the, waaaaayyyyy."
Us, "Its cool, we'll figure something out."
Locals, "Bummer man, be careful, that sucks K street is totally shut down man, maybe......."
It went something like that, but we drove away while the hippies dribbled their filth upon the wet damp Arcata pavement. We were here though, and that was awesome. No more driving!
Finally K street was found, as well as Mosgo's coffee shop. Kia immediately began talking about getting paid (which we weren't) so he convinced them to give us all free food.
We loaded in, talked to some people, ate food, played, and had someone trade us a 1/4 of the best weed in the country for a t-shirt. Seriously this was so much weed that it was actually a problem; we were due to head to Oregon tomorrow where marijuana is not as accepted as California and had to get rid of it all before then. Good thing Dan's aunt (who were were staying with for the night (yeah, an aunt that lives an hour an a half from Arcata California, in the middle of the Redwood Forest. Go figure) lived a distance away through the Redwoods - which gave us all a chance to smoke it.
Wow did we get high, wow was this drive intense. First off, Dan's uncle did not know how to let someone follow them. He was zipping through these winding mountainous roads like it was nothing! Through the fog, up hills, down hills, it didn't matter. Ryan had the most dangerous drive out of anyone for taking this responsibility, and he somehow managed while smoking some serious outdoor weed.
I felt like I was on another planet. Looking at this forest, that road, was something out of a book I wished at the moment I never read. I was scared. I kept thinking the tires would slip and we'd be off a cliff. Maybe I just got too high. However, Dan's aunt promised us a plethora of food and beds when we arrived so it seemed worth the peril. Dan's aunt and uncle most certainly pulled through. Before reaching their house, we were running out of gas. Not only were we running out of gas, but we were driving through the Redwood Forest with our gas light on. Certainly not the best of ideas.
Somehow we magically made it into town, and Dan's uncle bought us $50 of gas. THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!!
They had prepared mountains of food which all of us eagerly took of their table. There was a pool table that Derek could not escape with Dan's uncle, and some weed that the rest of us couldn't escape not smoking. We rolled it up in the trailer that half of us would be sleeping in (yes, like a camping trailer), and got even more high. At this point it was certainly stupid how high we really were. Humbult county, I've been told has the best marijuana in the country. We had been smoking copious amounts of it. Whatever.
My pain was getting worse, but I though it would be fine in the morning. I had a nice couch to sleep on, I took a nice shower.....
Morning rolls around and I can barely move now. Can't bend over, walking hurts, my butt hurts.
I pack up my stuff bitterly and get in the van. Salem OR next stop, and nothing is stopping us. I forget the cold compress that Dan's aunt offered me and bite my tounge. More Redwood Forest ahead.
We still have so much weed it's stupid, and the Oregon border is only getting closer. What better time to get high than driving through the most beautiful scenery in the country? Massive joint, after massive joint, we all to say safely, got very fucking high. The tree's looked like a rain-forest from the planet holy shit. There was moss that ran across every inch of everything, tree trunks that spanned city blocks. Once we hit Oregon though, it changed.
The roads suddenly were labeled: "6% grade", it started sleeting, fears began to arise amongst the ranks. Brett was at wheel and commanded the road with proper attention and skill. Thank you Brett, I thought we were going to die, for real.
Again I fell asleep because I couldn't take being so damned high and in the weirdest pain I've ever felt, so I woke up in Salem. I was not happy. I felt sick, I felt pain, I felt resentment to whatever the hell made me this way. I laid down in the van for most of the night and rested. I played the show but I couldn't tell you much that happened that night because it hurt.
Somehow we ended up in Portland that night, I had no idea we were driving there but when the van stopped and everyone piled out - thats where we were. Alyssa's house! This would come to be our home for the next few days. She was sleeping but let us in somehow, and we took over. Her entire apartment was covered by the likes of us. Soon we all fell asleep because it was late, and went to dream land.
I woke up to Harrison rummaging through his belongings, I had no idea what time it was but I couldn't sleep none the less. I was in more pain than last night and needed to stretch, or something. So I took the walk with Harry to a laundry matt near by (by the help of an iPhone) and a coffee shop to get some eats. I told Harry I needed to see a doctor that day over breakfast, and looked up some places to go.
When we reconvened with the rest of the bunch, arrangements were made to take me to some sort of free health clinic. Harry and Dan submitted to the deed, and helped me on my way. After finally figuring out how to get on the highway (yes, the was a serious task that involved 2 iPhones, a GPS, and directions of one local biker) we made it there. Thats when the waiting started.
I got to read at least 100 pages of Dune, then was finally seen by a doctor. They told me I had a Pilonidal Csyt. Fuck.
At least now I knew my pain wasn't magical or non-existant; it was most certainly real and tangible. It's okay, I had the night to rest and a show the next day. They gave me some med's, some liquid Codeine for the cough I had, it would be fine.
The next day rolls around and we have to drive to Eugene. The pain has not lessened, but increased and I lay down the entire ride there. We roll up the venue (which is huuugggee and nice) but there is no one there. Indigo District likes to front like this.
They do have cheap food that is very tasty, I get a grilled cheese and love it so. Kia is telling me someone wants to buy my amp, has him come to the show, and as were setting up he comes in with it. I really don't want to part with my Orange, as much as I don't think it's the best sounding amp it doesn't matter. I went through so much shit to get it and it's not something I wish to ever part with. Kia is insisting so much on this other amp, he ends up taking it from the guy. He tests it out during our set, but I can't really tell. I am in so much fucking pain from bending down to connect all my wires that everything from here becomes blurry. By the time we are done playing I feel like I need some morphine.
I go to the van and lay down while everyone drinks some more, then when they pile back in the van its McDonalds time. Everyone orders food, a lot of us want a double cheeseburger. They don't have double cheeseburgers, they have a "McDouble".
Carl, "Whats a McDoooouuubbbbllllleeeeee?"
You had to be there, I can't explain Carl but if you know him you might understand. Everyone died laughing and almost died farting. I almost died because of the pain, as it hit the peak of how fucking much it hurt.
We met someone at the show, River, who offered us a place to stay. River was in high-school and was in a band that played with us that night, had to be up early the next morning. Somehow we make it to his house and somehow I manage to walk to his house.
By the time I reach his basement I'm ready for an axe to hack at my back to make it feel better. I was delirious and everyone being drunk and loud did not help. As my blankets are being prepared on the floor by Brett (thank you bud), someone else lays out a blanket and finds a big-betsy of a spider inside it. I freak, I say I haveee to go back to the van to sleep. I can't do spiders. I am so tired and in pain that I decide to tough it out, and slowly plop on the floor. Everyone continues being loud, and I don't sleep a wink the entire night from the pain.
Around 5:00 am I stand up because it hurts so much and I have to do something. I go outside to smoke a cigarette to distract me, but it fails poorly. I realize there is a shower downstairs and plan to take full advantage. Not caring how much noise it's going to make to do so, I turn the bitch on. I get in there, full heat blast, I'm standing in there ass-out to get the most pain relief possible. What do I see? Crawling up the side of the shower curtain? Monster spider!
Just what I need, to battle one of these beasts now.
I take the toilet plunger and get to work. I whack at the curtain to attempt to make the damned thing fall to the ground for accurate squishing and it takes a couple of attempts and fails. Finally the thing is on the ground, and I do the deed of soaking it in hand sanitizer (it sounds cruel, but hey. I was in no position to care at this moment). I get back in the shower for another hour of relief before the hot water starts to run out. I go back to my sleeping position and stand there in agony.
After awhile, River wakes up for school. He wakes everyone else up, and I tell everyone else that I NEED to see a doctor again. I also need to eat on the account I chugged the rest of my liquid codeine to ease the pain, and am feeling very nauseous at this point. This brings River to make us all pancakes.
We eat breakfast with River and his Dad, then part ways. Thank you River!!!
In the van, I lay down again and try to regain some sleep. We stop back in Salem on the way to Portland for Harrison to recover his re-directed mail from home. He actually receives it, and we head back to Alyssa's.
When we arrive there, I still haven't gotten a call back from my Doc. I stay in the van while everyone else eats because I can't move, but finally I decide to call back and see what's going on. They tell me to come back in! Awesome, so I tell someone to get the fuck over to the van and drive me. This is done, and I am dropped back off at the clinic at 3:30pm. Keep that time in mind.
I STAND there until 5:30 pm because I simply cannot sit; it is too painful. I am finally seen by a different doctor this time, one whose first instinct is to take his thumb and push is directly into the cyst with the most possible amount of pressure. This is true pain, and the story only gets worse and bloody from here; so stop reading if you can't take it.
From this "assessment", the doc say's it has to be drained immediately. I started to freak because I am about to have a hole cut into me by someone in Oregon whom I don't know at all and have no way to get home. It hurts so much at this point I don't give a fuck.
So he leaves me in the room for a minute wearing nothing but this "bed-sheet" like robe that I was supplied with; it has to straps to wrap around my back so I tie the entire thing like a big bib around my neck. Again I'm in so much pain I don't care.
The doc finally comes back in the room rolling a cart with various surgical supplies on it. I lay down on the table anxious, and scared.
When he started to prepare the area I freak and say I need to call home. I need to find out if I should be doing any of this right now or if I should travel to NY to get sliced. It's made clear to me that it has to happen now, and when he comes back in the room I give him the go ahead. BIG MISTAKE.
The needle with the anesthetic comes to my exposed back and sticks me once, twice, and then there is a brief pause. The doctor doesn't ask me if its numb, doesn't give a courtesy poke to tell, just sticks the knife into the infected mass on my coccyx. Just tells me I'll feel a pinch. YEAH RIGHT.
I feel every turn of the blade as he cuts the bag open, pushing the scalpel deeper and deeper to drain the puss. He does this many a time, and finally puts the thing down. I'm biting on my hand because I've never felt so much pain as this moment and fear I'm going to break my finger. Then he starts to squeeze.
I reconfigure my decisions of how much pain I've been in, because this simply is it. He takes the soar skin and puts it in between his fingers, lets the puss out.........then tells me to smell it. Yes, he tells me to smell it. Where I am on the table I can get a faint idea but decline. I can barely form a moan at this point. He continues to squeeze and squeeze until he begins to insert the gauze. I again reconfigure my idea of how much pain I've been in. This is it.
After the gauze goes in, he does ONE wipe of the blood and says "you better take care of this, see a surgeon when you get home because this is the most disgusting substance I have ever seen", and leaves the room. I assume it's bad, but not as bad as I am soon to find out. He also leaves the door completely open with my "bib" swinging in the wind. After walking down the hallway, he does though come back and close the door and apologize.
I empty an entire box of gauze to clean up the blood and nothing is changing. I am soaking the paper on one swipe. Next I move to the box is tissues, and nothing is changing. Blood is seemingly pouring out and wont stop. I'm in more pain than I began with and decide to give up. I pull up my shorts and start to make my very slow pace out of the doctors office. Blood is dripping out my shorts but no one stops me and I certainly don't stop myself. He prescribed me pain med's and damned if I was to be stopped on my way to get them. Or so I think.
I don't stop at the check out counter, instead I slowly walk by starring down the receptionists who witnessed me standing on my feet for 2 hours without doing anything. They in return don't do anything and I walk out of the building.
The van is there waiting for me and I tell them right away I have to go home. Whatever just happened has fucked me up beyond what I consider to be fucked up and I need some pain medication NOW.
We find a Walmart that has my med's in stock (they have $4 prescriptions without health insurance) so we go there. Making my way to the pharmacy was fun, especially since I could walk at a pace of a 99 year old. They tell me an hour and a half. Great, because the van has to leave with everyone to get to a show. Dan stays with me though and keeps me company. We eat Subway, go to the bathroom, and by the time I can walk back over to the pharmacy an hour has gone by. Only when I get there they say, they don't have the key for the narcotics.
Of course, something has to get fucked up. Dan and myself scream at the people behind the counter demanding why they didn't tell us this in the first place. I tell them there is no way I can wait until tomorrow, considering the van is leaving for Seattle the next day. They scurry around behind the counter and eventually tell me that there is a 24 Walgreens that carries what I need. Great, because the van is now an hour away setting up equipment.
So Dan and I wait, and wait we do. We play Big Buck Hunter and drink Pepsi as we wait for Carl to take us to Walgreens. I want to break Carl's legs because he takes forever and then some, rolls up at Walmart at 10pm. We get to Walgreens annnndddd 45 minute wait to get pharms filled!!!!!!!
I again, sit there by myself this time and wait. An hour goes by and I finally get some relief. It is now 11pm and I have still been standing (causing so much more pain) since 3:30pm. My ride doesn't come from the show until close to 12am but by that time I am in spaceland. I don't care, don't know what's going on, but I am overwhelmed by the saddening sense that this tour cannot continue.
When I finally reconvene with the rest of the group everyone has somehow heard of the horror story that had taken place. Everyone is sad that I must part, and I am befuddled with what is actually happened. I missed Jizz Wizard play and that was one of the highlights of the tour for me.
Back to Alyssa's one more time, I asked her if I could crash for a day or two until I could fly somewhere and ship my stuff back to NY and she agrees. I spend one more night with the bro's.
Next morning we all wake up angry and upset with what has to happen. The conditions which gave me the cyst (sitting in one place for too long, being in a bumpy van) are absolutely not the conditions I require to recover from something that could reoccur. We eat Veggie Thai one more time and then say our goodbyes. I watch the van leave with out me, its horn blowing a little softer this time.
The next day and a half way madness, figuring out plane tickets and expenses to ship my belongings back to NY. Originally the plan way to head to LA to stay with my uncle to recover in the warm sunny weather, but JoAnna offered me a place to stay in San Diego. So currently I am here, after nearly missing my flight due to forgetting my wallet in Alyssa's apartment, barely being able to withstand sitting down on a plane, but I am here. The sun is now going down on my first day away truely away from the van, my band, and my tribe of friends. This has all been completely out of left field, out of the blue, and jumping into something unexpected and unwanted.
So back to the Pacific, even though I never left I am back where it was started. San Diego I shall stay until something else moves me, but I wish the best of luck to my brothers sharing the big white stupid van somewhere in Washington. God-speed to you all, and don't sit in one spot for too long, else you end up like me. Staying with a Navy nurse in the warmth of one of the most beautiful places in this country.
Butt hurt.
<3 Sketch
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Austin TX
I am TIRED. But I will update to say t-h-a-n-k y-o-u to Robby for a place to stay tonight and coming to the show; t-h-a-n-k y-o-u to Danielle for taking the other half of our hurting bodies and listening as well. Hopefully our van will start tomorrow. This is all very uncertain.
- Sketch
- Sketch
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Home Away from Home
I think sleeping on things that aren't meant to be slept on is fine and all, I mean after a night of Sparks and Old Style who is one to complain really? It's when sleeping on such surfaces induces dreams of this nature that I tend to not sleep at all and wake up worse off than I began. All I really remember (thank god) is that I was in Arizona and climbed to the TOP of some extremely large plateau where the perception of being that high was quite frighteningly accurate. What were my intentions of scaling such a mountain? To jump off naturally. I don't remember the fall as much as I do the pain when I landed and the worse part of it was - the rest of Rumi were my doctors. Kia was attempting to carry my broken body to some kind of operating room where then the surgery began. This is the second time I've dreamt about being operated on (poorly) and the mind can play some funny games on you when it comes to believing what you feel - unfortunately I have found out. My shoulder was dislocated and I believed a few broken ribs as well, really I was lucky to survive the whole 5000+ft free fall (actually now that I think a little bit more, I DID have a parachute but didn't open it until about 100ft before impact and Brett was the one who told me to pull the chord) but I was in some intense pain. Kia and someone else brought me into a porch looking room where things were put up against my chest and opened up...I'll spare the details but they did stop midway and left me in the height of agony - at which point I started to walk around myself and walked straight into the party from last night! No one seemed to be bothered by my state or the fact I was naked, luckily I woke up and realized the pain from the fall was REALLY the pain in my shoulder from sleeping on a chair. Funny how these things work.
Besides nightmares of botched surgery, ARKANSAS IS FUCKING AWESOME. The people here have an air of friendliness about them that us NY'ers aren't accustom to back North, and a heart for hospitality that can only be admired. This is Rumi's second time staying with Scott, I wasn't there for the first when we toured through the South, but while doing the dishes yesterday Kia discovered the only post-card on Scott's fridge was from him. We can't thank you enough for letting us use your 3 couches, 2 aero mattresses, arm chair and gym mats.
When we arrived two days ago, we pulled up to Russelville with 2 cases of beer (it's a dry county) in our space ship esque Dodge 3500 after a very very long drive. Somewhere during the travel we changed time zones, got corn dogs, ate way too much Subway, read too much Dune, and Brett slept for nearly 20 hours consecutively. This did not affect our demeanor to party.
Scott welcomed all of us and gave us a tour of his incredible gear collection; ranging from vintage amps, guitars, bases, boutique petals, organs, and then to an original version of Jack White's guitar. Our minds were blown in the first few minutes of arrival and were diverted from the perils of the open road. We all started to drink and people started to pile in through the door like any other night (as we were told) and the 8 of us mingled in with the crowd.
I found myself at a square table in the kitchen with the locals watching 6 dice being thrown about. They all seemed to be getting real excited about it so I decided to enquire what the fun was all about. They simply said,
"Farckle", to which I replied: "Farckle??", to which they replied, "Farckle!!!!!".
I put the dice in my hand and within the first couple of rolls I manage to roll some crazy variation that no one even knows how many points it was worth. There seemed to be a big commotion over this and Kia shouted from across the room, "Leave it to Justin to do something in the first minute that no else knows what the hell to do with!". Afterwards I slowly start to understand Farckle's intricacies and begin a real game with my new friends. Harrison shortly there after walked by the Farckle table and asked,
"Whatcha' doing?" I said, "Playing Farckle." Harrison inquired, "Farckle??" and I said, "YES, FARCKLE," to which he replied - "What the fuck is Farckle?", to which I said "Sit down."
So Harrison sat down - not being able to resist the allure of such a game and he too learned the ways from Emily and Nate (THANK YOU FOR SHOWING US FARCKLE!!!!). This is when the fun began and the shouting and more drinking and somewhere amongst that Derek (Wing) ended up joining since he IS a natural born hustler. I didn't have the same luck I began with but we were all screaming and enjoying ourselves. After about 20 minutes some 'piff came about in a small bowl and about 5 minutes after that some 'piff came about in the form of what I deemed a "Snoop". The dimensions of this blunt were: roughly the circumference of a tangerine and the length of - wow that's kinda big. At this point I think we all slipped into the grooves and cracks of this place and felt as if we had a home.
After Farckle was ended by Emily pwning all of us, Harrison, Derek (Wing) and myself ran into the far bedroom to find Brett singing INTERPOL on rock band. When we get the video up for this, you shall see for yourself why we were all dying.
Hours had gone by until we all felt our stomachs grumble from the day full of eating rest stop food - something had to be done and a food expedition was formed. Kia returned with a s'moogeshboard of burrito materials and got to the pan. All these freshly chopped veggies, simmering veggies, simmering meat; the smell wafted into the bedroom where Brett and I were still glued to rock band. We jumped up and ran to its source were the other 6 were "eating" (by eating I mean devouring) this delicious smelling meal. The package of tortilla's was large but we managed to leave no tortilla behind. Everything was 'numed up and it was getting pretty late. I had to secure something to sleep on and jumped to the nearest couch. Luckily for me I somehow lost my blanket and pillow (yes, it was floral - that doesn't change the fact I miss it and have gone very cold without it), so I resorted to using my jacket as my only means of warmth for the night.
A few hours later I woke up around 9:30am not being able to sleep very well or accumulate much heat, found myself sitting up in a chair by the slit of sunlight beaming in from the window. I read Dune for a while until Brett wakes up and we give the van a much needed cleaning together. Kia runs out when were done, saying he needs to sleep in the van because the floor is rough. By this time people are waking up one after another and soon were all groogy and somewhat conscious together.
The weather outside is beeeauuutiiiifullllll (t-shirt status), so we band together and start walking down Arkansas Rd - to where? No one is quite certain. One thing we are certain of is no one really walks much 'round dese her' parts and the 8 of us don't look too indigenous if you catch my drift. ATM's, mailboxes, train whistles, these things all happen until Derek (Wing) decides he needs eggs and doesn't care where he's getting them from.
I almost join the group walking back to the house, but decide I want to walk around further and see what Arkansas has to offer.
We locate somewhere here that serves breakfast at 1:30pm, this isn't as easy as it sounds - and after passing about 30 barber shops consecutively we arrive at The Old South. Egg's are had, biscuits, country gravy, bologna, bacon, everything they could dream of. I had a soup which was okay, but the 'cuit was quite delectable. Harrison, Carl, and Derek (Wing) enjoyed there long sought after meal and we begin our trek back to the house.
Unfortunately for us the other group of people, including Scott, had left to go get food of their own and we were locked out on the front porch. Sitting there wasn't something to complain about, it was breezy and still hot outside and we had some music on our phones. "Brick" was played and Carl and I had a moment.
Hours of lounging out at Scott's (aka. Ryan and I looking at hot Isreali girls in uniform ((EVERYONE NEEDS TO STOP FUCKING FIGHTING)) on the internet amongst other random things) came to an end when Kia barrelled through the front door cursing. This we found out, was about shows in Colorodo that fell through for such and such reason...we all hope that situation is going to work out itself out. There's talk of a Frat party we might play at in Boulder? Who knows....We gather 'round into the van and start heading towards the show:
The Godbey is the practice space of Fashion Show (what upp, you guys rocked!!!!!) and turned out to be an awesome place to play. From the outside all you can see if the HUGE street number on the front brick, and thats it. You walk inside to a warehouse type room with very high ceilings with random ornaments hanging from it, then a stage set towards the back with a back loading room. We empty out the van (fuck) and bring in all our equipment, set up merch, talk to everyone there that we met last night, and figure out how to get beer for the night (it's still a dry county). Luckily Mark from Fashion Show hopped in the van with myself and Harrison and we took off towards the next county were some guy was getting blow-torched on television by a witch doctor.
Getting back, FAT ON SPEED was just beginning to rock and rock they did. The Test Dream played and they were okkkaayy (just joshing, ayuck yuck), Harrison when he rocks out too hard and breaks strings we learned - only rocks out harder. As Rumi started to set up, Scott goes outside and yells "COPS!" (everyone was drinking) so they would all come back inside. We play, me and Ryan do a little dance as he joins for pretty much every song, and great times are had. Thanks for The Test Dream video taping us again, we reaaallly appreciate it.
Again back at Scotts; I find a buyer for the 15.8g's of boomers I somehow acquired and no longer wished to travel with (we heard cops west of here in Oklahoma and esp. Texas are BAD) since we are 8 mostly bearded fellows traveling in a conspicuous white van and trailer with NY plates. Party time again, everyone is back here and then some from last night and more Farckle goes down. This time it is interrupted by the fact we have to unload the entire trailer to detach it from the van (our brakes need work) so we can drop it off at a mechanic overnight. This proves annoying and during the process we realize every single one of us had all stepped in something awful. We clean our shoes, unload more, more everyyything inside the house for the night and resume the Old Style brews and good times. This time we all pretty much end up staying awake 'till after five, with long conversations being carried out without end. All of us by the end of the night felt immersed in the Arkansas kind kind way of heart and manor, and made our way to our couches and respected sleeping arrangements.
Aaaannnnd now here I am, everyone is awake and Scott is talking about faggin' out with a kitchen full of people. Myself? Cold, can barely feel my hands and have a stomach full of Arkansas love.
- Sketch
I almost join the group walking back to the house, but decide I want to walk around further and see what Arkansas has to offer.
We locate somewhere here that serves breakfast at 1:30pm, this isn't as easy as it sounds - and after passing about 30 barber shops consecutively we arrive at The Old South. Egg's are had, biscuits, country gravy, bologna, bacon, everything they could dream of. I had a soup which was okay, but the 'cuit was quite delectable. Harrison, Carl, and Derek (Wing) enjoyed there long sought after meal and we begin our trek back to the house.
Unfortunately for us the other group of people, including Scott, had left to go get food of their own and we were locked out on the front porch. Sitting there wasn't something to complain about, it was breezy and still hot outside and we had some music on our phones. "Brick" was played and Carl and I had a moment.
Hours of lounging out at Scott's (aka. Ryan and I looking at hot Isreali girls in uniform ((EVERYONE NEEDS TO STOP FUCKING FIGHTING)) on the internet amongst other random things) came to an end when Kia barrelled through the front door cursing. This we found out, was about shows in Colorodo that fell through for such and such reason...we all hope that situation is going to work out itself out. There's talk of a Frat party we might play at in Boulder? Who knows....We gather 'round into the van and start heading towards the show:
The Godbey is the practice space of Fashion Show (what upp, you guys rocked!!!!!) and turned out to be an awesome place to play. From the outside all you can see if the HUGE street number on the front brick, and thats it. You walk inside to a warehouse type room with very high ceilings with random ornaments hanging from it, then a stage set towards the back with a back loading room. We empty out the van (fuck) and bring in all our equipment, set up merch, talk to everyone there that we met last night, and figure out how to get beer for the night (it's still a dry county). Luckily Mark from Fashion Show hopped in the van with myself and Harrison and we took off towards the next county were some guy was getting blow-torched on television by a witch doctor.
Getting back, FAT ON SPEED was just beginning to rock and rock they did. The Test Dream played and they were okkkaayy (just joshing, ayuck yuck), Harrison when he rocks out too hard and breaks strings we learned - only rocks out harder. As Rumi started to set up, Scott goes outside and yells "COPS!" (everyone was drinking) so they would all come back inside. We play, me and Ryan do a little dance as he joins for pretty much every song, and great times are had. Thanks for The Test Dream video taping us again, we reaaallly appreciate it.
Again back at Scotts; I find a buyer for the 15.8g's of boomers I somehow acquired and no longer wished to travel with (we heard cops west of here in Oklahoma and esp. Texas are BAD) since we are 8 mostly bearded fellows traveling in a conspicuous white van and trailer with NY plates. Party time again, everyone is back here and then some from last night and more Farckle goes down. This time it is interrupted by the fact we have to unload the entire trailer to detach it from the van (our brakes need work) so we can drop it off at a mechanic overnight. This proves annoying and during the process we realize every single one of us had all stepped in something awful. We clean our shoes, unload more, more everyyything inside the house for the night and resume the Old Style brews and good times. This time we all pretty much end up staying awake 'till after five, with long conversations being carried out without end. All of us by the end of the night felt immersed in the Arkansas kind kind way of heart and manor, and made our way to our couches and respected sleeping arrangements.
Aaaannnnd now here I am, everyone is awake and Scott is talking about faggin' out with a kitchen full of people. Myself? Cold, can barely feel my hands and have a stomach full of Arkansas love.
- Sketch
Monday, January 12, 2009
Dalton Georgia
Good morning everyone. It's 10:36 on Tuesday morning here in Dalton, Georgia. Not much going on around here except for a bunch of kids who crave good music. Rumi and The Test Dream played a wonderful gig on Friday at the Venue. The Venue is Dalton's all-ages spot where everyone from high-school to adults come to watch the South (and now the North's ) best acts. Rumi and The Test Dream were thrown into the middle of the Venue's famed Metal Night. Both bands may not be the heaviest music in the land, but for what we lack in brutality we make up for in rock and roll soundscapes that represent the most psychedelic paisley patterns on your crazy uncle Rico's couch from his haydays throwing the football over "dem dair mountains". Dalton loves us and we love them back. A big thanks to Suzie and Devon (mother and daughter team extradonaire) for running the Venue and letting us snag some extra Raman. The road is hard and Raman eases the pain.
Saturday was spent with finding lunch, resting vocal chords, drinking coffee and preparing for another night at the Venue. I would like to personally thank the Mexican restaurant in the shopping center on the Cleavland Highway for providing a few of us with the best lunch had in a week. After resting up, we made our way over to the Venue only to find out that the long awaited Hardcore Night already had nine bands ready to play and there was no room for us. Suzie appologized, we resident cat darted from car to car to avoid the rain and we left.
The night was spent celebrating the completion of the first week of tour by drinking some Busch beer, small nips of the finest liquors in the world and Ancient Age Kentucky Bourbon and eating some Wendy's. I'm very thankful for Dan's presence on this tour. He's a nice guy, likes good music and is a former Wendy's employee. With his vast knowledge of the Wendy's menu I was able to have the best drunken fast food experience since the days of White Castle on Bell Blvd. Thanks Dan.
Now it is time to check out of the hotel room and hit the ole' dusty trail.
- Harry
Saturday was spent with finding lunch, resting vocal chords, drinking coffee and preparing for another night at the Venue. I would like to personally thank the Mexican restaurant in the shopping center on the Cleavland Highway for providing a few of us with the best lunch had in a week. After resting up, we made our way over to the Venue only to find out that the long awaited Hardcore Night already had nine bands ready to play and there was no room for us. Suzie appologized, we resident cat darted from car to car to avoid the rain and we left.
The night was spent celebrating the completion of the first week of tour by drinking some Busch beer, small nips of the finest liquors in the world and Ancient Age Kentucky Bourbon and eating some Wendy's. I'm very thankful for Dan's presence on this tour. He's a nice guy, likes good music and is a former Wendy's employee. With his vast knowledge of the Wendy's menu I was able to have the best drunken fast food experience since the days of White Castle on Bell Blvd. Thanks Dan.
Now it is time to check out of the hotel room and hit the ole' dusty trail.
- Harry
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