tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56767628878440196702024-03-12T23:39:37.039-07:00the messenger saidrunning around new york city♥http://www.blogger.com/profile/14558600337157341127noreply@blogger.comBlogger100125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5676762887844019670.post-53166471190479813622012-06-02T08:15:00.000-07:002012-06-02T08:15:51.856-07:00Art Cards<br />
<br />
A few years ago I created a series of Art Cards, small 2" x 3.5" collectible original artworks. Series 1 was comprised of about 150 cards, ALL HAND MADE, divided into sets of about 10 cards each.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivStQP5cUD6_Nam5eRMyvuYa36Ky2ssjgGPZfiMcFTdCiHI10RpHQSELWnxEjBNVaYeskYmoyRnEvWGTKJ4zkBzy2Ond2Fl8BcU8jNEVONnKkeLf1UYUbWmbpZ7I9fD-U9d1flDdPOkIU/s1600-h/Squid.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240367107121316770" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivStQP5cUD6_Nam5eRMyvuYa36Ky2ssjgGPZfiMcFTdCiHI10RpHQSELWnxEjBNVaYeskYmoyRnEvWGTKJ4zkBzy2Ond2Fl8BcU8jNEVONnKkeLf1UYUbWmbpZ7I9fD-U9d1flDdPOkIU/s320/Squid.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Squid set 1-10</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm6j0SbjMzonJd4sdoMOJRauRWMacvqVypyyNV0ps7Um5863-caHSXSItH81HS_PFlFRynF0YQsVGUaEVDI6HDTyPYRyVGkkB9NY2dRnPwHapGhvemqbg-dQKlHgQQt645YagUoqqJXkc/s1600-h/Jellyfish-Card-Sheet.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240368239309009106" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm6j0SbjMzonJd4sdoMOJRauRWMacvqVypyyNV0ps7Um5863-caHSXSItH81HS_PFlFRynF0YQsVGUaEVDI6HDTyPYRyVGkkB9NY2dRnPwHapGhvemqbg-dQKlHgQQt645YagUoqqJXkc/s320/Jellyfish-Card-Sheet.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
<span style="font-style: italic;">Jellyfish set 1-10</span><br />
<br />Each card was signed & dated and labeled on the back with title, a "value" designation in terms of "stars", and the series number.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifJEav4XyjWuXqxsyTbbA5VUZk5JiUquQzyBpJw8tLDuPC3WGmzCS5Ymu80xlcZqiltWvtPjZGgIwgeeoEGgzDkCCx70wwFphn1e15r96R7ZWApipB5SdBG73OnkIU0weasCJwqU_P6LQ/s1600-h/Maya-Gliph.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240369732267079202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifJEav4XyjWuXqxsyTbbA5VUZk5JiUquQzyBpJw8tLDuPC3WGmzCS5Ymu80xlcZqiltWvtPjZGgIwgeeoEGgzDkCCx70wwFphn1e15r96R7ZWApipB5SdBG73OnkIU0weasCJwqU_P6LQ/s320/Maya-Gliph.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
<span style="font-style: italic;">Maya Glyph set 1-9 + Bonus Jaguar</span><br />
<br /><br />I sold a bunch of my cards while on tour with Ghastly City Sleep in the past two years.<br />It was an opportunity for me to create an accesible large body of work that retains its intimacy and detail. They were also easy to take on the road due to their size.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmcHHkGHGXoqHkUXSC7m1QRJexDstwnqUDHTXY35NvsD-HzlozUN1xNuoAyqJ_wGosX5Ucflhb9V4zXIVTgUqYO-fHPsVX9SzFsWisGylng2XJE4CDhx8fbPEn4uL5p7lPJINxqPZYG14/s1600-h/Minnows.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240372424995625250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmcHHkGHGXoqHkUXSC7m1QRJexDstwnqUDHTXY35NvsD-HzlozUN1xNuoAyqJ_wGosX5Ucflhb9V4zXIVTgUqYO-fHPsVX9SzFsWisGylng2XJE4CDhx8fbPEn4uL5p7lPJINxqPZYG14/s320/Minnows.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
<span style="font-style: italic;">Minnows set 1-10</span><br />
<br />I am really intereseted in the idea of collectibles, multiples, and autonomous parts that combine to make a whole. <br />♥http://www.blogger.com/profile/14558600337157341127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5676762887844019670.post-31853190894595307202012-06-02T08:13:00.001-07:002012-06-02T08:13:18.443-07:00Paloma Crousillat<a href="http://www.palomacrousillat.com/finalimage/CERN2.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://www.palomacrousillat.com/final%20images/pageteleext.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 500px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 500px;" /></a><br />
Paloma Crousillat was born in Lima and graduated from SVA. I am particularly fond of her drawings ---- her line-work and architecture in crisis series, and her "telescopes."♥http://www.blogger.com/profile/14558600337157341127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5676762887844019670.post-56685382553357273152012-06-02T08:12:00.000-07:002012-06-02T08:12:07.106-07:00Audrey Kawasaki<a href="http://www.audrey-kawasaki.com/paintings/karamari-lj.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://www.audrey-kawasaki.com/paintings/karamari-lj.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 450px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.audrey-kawasaki.com/paintings/thestrangers_lj.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://www.audrey-kawasaki.com/paintings/thestrangers_lj.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 250px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.audrey-kawasaki.com/paintings/tangledhe_lj.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://www.audrey-kawasaki.com/paintings/tangledhe_lj.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 390px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.audrey-kawasaki.com/">Audrey Kawasaki</a>♥http://www.blogger.com/profile/14558600337157341127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5676762887844019670.post-42436034566176636252012-06-02T08:11:00.001-07:002012-06-02T08:11:24.063-07:00Laura Sue Phillips<br />
<a href="http://laurasuephillips.com/artistInfo/big/Laura-Sue-Phillips_61.jpg?1090"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://laurasuephillips.com/artistInfo/big/Laura-Sue-Phillips_61.jpg?1090" style="display: block; height: 343px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.laurasuephillips.com/">Laura Sue Phillips</a> graduated from Hunter, and her work is in watercolor.♥http://www.blogger.com/profile/14558600337157341127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5676762887844019670.post-47762257889976046512012-06-02T08:08:00.000-07:002012-06-02T08:08:18.323-07:00Sylvia Ji<a href="http://images.google.com/url?source=imgres&ct=tbn&q=http://www.supertouchart.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/06/gal_artist_75_2634_sylviaji-2.jpg&usg=AFQjCNGlStNezcr8akEZNpsbmrUcBrt0Mw"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://images.google.com/url?source=imgres&ct=tbn&q=http://www.supertouchart.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/06/gal_artist_75_2634_sylviaji-2.jpg&usg=AFQjCNGlStNezcr8akEZNpsbmrUcBrt0Mw" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://images.google.com/url?source=imgres&ct=tbn&q=http://www.whokilledbambi.co.uk/public/2007/09/la_catrina_large.jpg&usg=AFQjCNGpm2J8SDrLKBwVoxzITBfuMNQT5w"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://images.google.com/url?source=imgres&ct=tbn&q=http://www.whokilledbambi.co.uk/public/2007/09/la_catrina_large.jpg&usg=AFQjCNGpm2J8SDrLKBwVoxzITBfuMNQT5w" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.sylviaji.com/">Sylvia Ji</a>♥http://www.blogger.com/profile/14558600337157341127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5676762887844019670.post-34945811639967672572012-06-02T08:07:00.001-07:002012-06-02T08:07:52.255-07:00Shahzia Sikander<a href="http://images.google.com/url?source=imgres&ct=tbn&q=http://www.studio-international.co.uk/studio-images/without_boundary/PleasurePillars2_b.jpg&usg=AFQjCNFfOEnKBWrVOfTdpemDTPM3xCHabQ"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://images.google.com/url?source=imgres&ct=tbn&q=http://www.studio-international.co.uk/studio-images/without_boundary/PleasurePillars2_b.jpg&usg=AFQjCNFfOEnKBWrVOfTdpemDTPM3xCHabQ" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 500px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://images.google.com/url?source=imgres&ct=tbn&q=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2171/2547041837_b674e20681_o.jpg&usg=AFQjCNGuziLjx6Qt8ireF3J_8id_T74Yng"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://images.google.com/url?source=imgres&ct=tbn&q=http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2171/2547041837_b674e20681_o.jpg&usg=AFQjCNGuziLjx6Qt8ireF3J_8id_T74Yng" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 500px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.shahziasikander.com/">Shahzia Sikander</a>♥http://www.blogger.com/profile/14558600337157341127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5676762887844019670.post-35511656520858479652012-06-02T08:07:00.000-07:002012-06-02T08:07:40.163-07:00Rusudan Petviashvili<a href="http://www.petviashvili.net/images/illustrations_06.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://www.petviashvili.net/images/illustrations_06.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 500px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 250px;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.petviashvili.net/images/canvas_05.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://www.petviashvili.net/images/canvas_05.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 500px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 380px;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.petviashvili.net/images/aquarell_rusudani_40.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://www.petviashvili.net/images/aquarell_rusudani_40.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 480px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 500px;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.petviashvili.net/images/drawings_11.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://www.petviashvili.net/images/drawings_11.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 500px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.petviashvili.net/images/drawings_07.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://www.petviashvili.net/images/drawings_07.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 500px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 380px;" /></a><br />
Thanks to <a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/08780058597165386295">Jessie</a> for introducing me to <a href="http://www.petviashvili.net/">Rusudan Petviashvili</a>♥http://www.blogger.com/profile/14558600337157341127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5676762887844019670.post-81091194006177886962012-06-02T08:06:00.000-07:002012-06-02T08:06:07.005-07:00Julie Heffernan<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.ppowgallery.com/images/uploads/00988.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 490px; height: 500px;" src="http://www.ppowgallery.com/images/uploads/00988.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.luxartinstitute.org/Artist-Residency/Julie-Heffernan/">Julie Heffernan</a> graduated from Yale.♥http://www.blogger.com/profile/14558600337157341127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5676762887844019670.post-85371892588331442802012-06-02T08:05:00.000-07:002012-06-02T08:05:19.994-07:00Santa Rosa7.30.11<br /><br />Santa Rosa<br /><br />Crash facilitates a breakfast fit for Gypsy Kings - scrambled huevos, biscuits with agave and butter, coffee, and photos of her bay areas aquatic antics with whales and great white sharks. you rock, Crash.<br /><br />We drive back up the Cali Coast to Santa Rosa, home of some of our favorite dudes in the states… The boys formerly of Litany for the Whale and their entourage. Santa Rosa is also home to one of our favorite venues to play - the Arlene Francis Theater, a large brick facility that has a huge performance room and many gallery rooms with local art, a bar, and proximity to a mighty fine coffee shop, the Flying Goat.<br /><br />We pull up an dement Jeff, the assist for Litany who is now in a couple other projects such as Odd Bird. Jeff is our homie. He looks like the beautiful young son of Trent Reznor.<br />Being the sweet dark angel he is, he and his fiancee Rochelle agree to let us crash with them tonight. <br /><br />The show was a benefit for the space, the line up was really great! and in a back room, long table with name placards. During the show the table filled with artists making sketches and drawings on the fly to display and sell at the theater that night. It turned out to be a regular event put on by a local artist / group.<br /><br />I milled around, got some drinks, chatted with friends, and noticed Nick sitting at the strict table drawing. "How'd you get that seat?" "someone was a no-show, I made a new tag with my name!" He was finishing up a nice sketch. He hung it on the display wall and I sat with him and started a sketch of my own.<br /><br />The show went great, we played one of the best sets of tour, Evan really pounded out the end of "Billowing" which has been our tour closer. I had a great time. Oh, and somehow everyone at the Arlene Francis Theater that night was beautiful. something in the Santa Rosa water, evan & I joked… thank you, beautiful people, for a lovely show & a fun evening! <br /><br />I finished my drawing, and hung it on the board… I heard my name called as I was packing up - someone was interested in buying it!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmF-b89HxKrWhANOw2d4OeNed7YLSqy6oS9USx54MFbpoUYpPus6m5OowxAvLdM8QyndsmPiFFWjIKd1gMy_DqpcCiShS_9ULmd6kxLMmAoI37xDO6-nVNZ7_Q51xXkg8ee3dcLGXQQDw/s1600/IMG_4575.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 152px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmF-b89HxKrWhANOw2d4OeNed7YLSqy6oS9USx54MFbpoUYpPus6m5OowxAvLdM8QyndsmPiFFWjIKd1gMy_DqpcCiShS_9ULmd6kxLMmAoI37xDO6-nVNZ7_Q51xXkg8ee3dcLGXQQDw/s200/IMG_4575.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637548009259756690" /></a><br /><br />We get back to Jeff's and theres a little party going on. They'd bought 3 cases of beer, went grocery shopping for us, and gave us gift cards for safeway! In the metaphorical arms of our california angels, we reveled till late and went to sleep for about 3 hours tops, a long drive to Los Angeles waiting for us tomorrow morning…♥http://www.blogger.com/profile/14558600337157341127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5676762887844019670.post-86596131673943006972011-08-05T16:16:00.000-07:002011-08-05T17:55:23.892-07:00Rockin' the Bay7.29.11<br /><br />Oakland<br /><br />Goodmorning, San Fran. I wake up around 8:30 with Evan on van parking duty. We face a ticket if we don't move the van. I"m tired as hell, not happy to be up, but duty calls. We get in the van and drive for what seems like hours of precious sleepy time (actually 20 min) until we find a spot with a 1 hour meter. We park it. Evan gets coffee, I don't want it bacuase I want to believe that I can go home and go to bed, but I face reality and buy a cup. We walk back to Nathans for an hour so I can sit in the bathroom for 10. back to the street, we find a spot right in front of Nathans! back to the van, rep[ark, now I shower and lay back down and sleep for another hour.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAS3w1l5aNOixcZ5BqLCF-qp74k3Re02kjMpRFNV5s0SIYj__NdRi-SCn8_n5jmNLnPVPmyTmIYVPnYBx1MRjMr0lyJz37FavPaEVys9U28ONSF2j-k4V0r28PehKCGW_Es2XGtqvp6NQ/s1600/IMG_4469.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAS3w1l5aNOixcZ5BqLCF-qp74k3Re02kjMpRFNV5s0SIYj__NdRi-SCn8_n5jmNLnPVPmyTmIYVPnYBx1MRjMr0lyJz37FavPaEVys9U28ONSF2j-k4V0r28PehKCGW_Es2XGtqvp6NQ/s200/IMG_4469.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637539078524032946" /></a><br />I wake up to Nathan's roomy, we chat while she makes biscuits. Not cat biscuits, although my back is tight, the biscuits are oven style. Evan gets a burrito delivered to him by CB that looks like a little pouch of perfection. I leave to get some coffee and find this burrito's twin. But without meats. I am successful. I hit Taqueria and swallow the best burrito of tour yet. I run into Brandon and Nick, we get more coffee (coffee, coffee, coffee, all day all night, that's what tour is all about) at Philz. I ask for an Americano, my jam, my coffee drink. Everybody knows that. <br /><br />Well, the cute smiley lady behind the counter frowns like I just told her that her crayon drawing of her favorite animal sucks. I turn to Brandon with a smile and then back to her and I'm all like "Ok, that was a weird look. Explain to me how coffee works here, I obviously missed something."<br />"Well, we just have drip here" and she Vana Whites towards the back wall, adorned with a hundred different coffee beans. "I like dark and chocolatey and earth and leather and strong" I seem to recall communicating somehow…<br /><br />She recommends a bean lickety split and I green light that shit. Give it to me, I"m in your hands. She grinds and drips a single cup in a Blue Bell style fancy dripper doo and then she does something REAL funky. She puts a mint leaf in my coffee. I'm all twisted at this point. You don't play with a homie's coffee addiction like this. Is this a game? Am I a clown or some kind of tater tot out here? I need espresso, Sheila. I ain't comin in here to roll dice into a tea cup and play duck duck goose. I'm from Brooklyn, NY. Gorilla, Intelligensia, Gimme Coffee, Grumpy's, Stump Town, these playaz be out on my block, a stone's throw, they know me by name.<br /><br />But I don't say a word, I'm wide open, teach me to sing Sheila, take me to Philz coffee school.<br /><br />I get my cup and sip that mint leaf funk. Best cup of coffee ever. I went 'Special Agent Dale Cooper' on her.<br /><br />We all walk back to Nathans to leave for Oakland. Evan spots a hole in the wall shop selling hand made Lucha Libre masks. I am curious, and then hooked. Evan comes out with his new mask and helps me find one of my own...<br /><br />We roll up on Oakland and play Eli's. Yelp describes it as "more Divey than your average Dive Bar"<br />There's dogs and facial tattoos. Maybe even dogs with facial tattoos. Nice staff, door, bar, sound guy. good lil' show on the stage.<br />Our dear friend CRASH set up this show and took good care of us. we rock out for the 20th time or so since we left the east coast, and decide we want to chill at a bar and hang before calling it a night. Crash recommends a Tikki Bar. We tell the other bands our plans, they seem reluctant to go, being locals wearing all black and stuff. It was the perfect spot. <br />Crash buys us a "Scorpion Bowl" which is a porcelain volcano surrounded by a moat into which our Tikki bartender pours sweet fermented nectars and some mystery spirits and throws 6 straws in and maybe says good luck. We attach ourselves to this lost link to a greater archipelagic hangover and start sucking down the juices.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyb1SQvb31IPpvhEQrsjmgSybbE1Jm-I5TbaFyAA5XWWjVb52fAyteGIMRbFQAnqHNX0YlYHaQNvk9Kjr1eMoMscaJxcdwna76l0jMFnCnMCxQ8aejrtqJXVMQqEvcDCvelXZ5FCFdPJw/s1600/IMG_4514.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyb1SQvb31IPpvhEQrsjmgSybbE1Jm-I5TbaFyAA5XWWjVb52fAyteGIMRbFQAnqHNX0YlYHaQNvk9Kjr1eMoMscaJxcdwna76l0jMFnCnMCxQ8aejrtqJXVMQqEvcDCvelXZ5FCFdPJw/s200/IMG_4514.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637539437094958594" /></a><br />the other bands show up, and maybe 2 scorpion bowls later they leave, quietly assuring one or two of us in a whisper that this bar is whack and not a great place to hang.<br /><br />They underestimate Ghastly City Sleep. In our current interation we are especially equipped to enjoy any situation, ESPECIALLY a tikki bar with scorpion bowls and a HULA GIRL ROBOT! she stands across the bar with a permanent distant smile that seems to stare off into another realm, topless, and her hips constantly just roll 'round and 'round in a hypnotic orbit. I'm laughing at her absurd awesomeness when the autor in me conjures up a fantastic photograph…<br /><br />I say "I'm gonna get my Lucha Libre mask and take my shirt off and pose with that Hulabot."<br />Evan laughs. "That would be awesome. Too bad you won't."<br />"what!? of course I will."<br />"no, no you won't"<br />"what, you think I"m too embarrassed to take my shirt off and wear a lucha libber mask in a tikki bar filled with maybe 15 drunk peeps after I personally helped down 4 Scorpion Bowls?"<br />"It's not that I think its something you wouldn't do, I don't doubt you would. But you won't, not tonight, not here, not now."<br />I get up and run to the van, get both my mask AND his, and return with a shit eating grin. I'm taking him down with me!<br /><br />Moments later, we have a most incredible portrait of the two of us with Hulabot. Just leavin' a slick with ZERO REGRET in my wake wherever I go. Thanks Evan, for not only pushing me to my ridiculous place, but for posing with me as well.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL6eFUVR-uCFnd3FWJGxgWbutFlXCQg0FrHA2gJO1jG3z2z3qND9V1L1epax6F3ZQHvJj1wSpGXD7LFvXYUM7K28QD1swsy-A3SJGKIL3DCn7b67HUUvPDHQ4osdsfqtvm2womjPkFHb8/s1600/IMG_4516.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL6eFUVR-uCFnd3FWJGxgWbutFlXCQg0FrHA2gJO1jG3z2z3qND9V1L1epax6F3ZQHvJj1wSpGXD7LFvXYUM7K28QD1swsy-A3SJGKIL3DCn7b67HUUvPDHQ4osdsfqtvm2womjPkFHb8/s200/IMG_4516.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637539858426588594" /></a><br /><br />Crash, who I can only hope is sufficiently amused for the evening, graciously opens up her home to our circus and we crash :) happily on her floors.♥http://www.blogger.com/profile/14558600337157341127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5676762887844019670.post-21504105920169134942011-08-05T15:57:00.001-07:002011-08-05T17:22:51.061-07:00Big Sur7.28.11<br /><br />A day off in California<br /><br />This morning, and for the first time on tour, I wake up in the van. <br /><br />"Morgenstund" by Edvard Grieg seems to be gently wafting from a distant corner of the universe. I eat a protein bar, stretch, soak in the morning sun and the cool air. Today, dear reader, is a day off for Ghastly City Sleep. We discussed the pros and cons of taking a little road trip from this road trip - the van's missing crank case cover which makes gravel and bouncy road refuse and detritus our kriptonite, the co$t of gasoline and the gluttonous chevy 20 we ride in, the trailer with all our equipment…<br /><br />If any of you know CB, you know about his life-changing road trip out west he embarked on years ago. It s a great story, and something about the timing and the landscape made a remarkable impression on him and helped him make the decision to move to New York and peruse his dream of playing music. That story culminates in a trip to the famed Big Sur on the central coast of California - a geographically diverse miasma of microclimates, mountains, redwood forest, waterfalls, beaches, rivers, whales, seals, sharks, birds, rainbows, and a general apex of American Geographic majesty. In my official synopsis I'd like to add that the landscape is so pristine and breathtakingly gorgeous it coaxes you into belief in unicorns, and the possibility that one might just appear at any moment out there. <br /><br />The drive would be about one or two hours, but CB said that despite all the beautiful things we'd seen thus far, it would be worth it. 'nuff said as far as I was concerned!<br /><br />So the plan was to depart asap and go to Big Sur for the day, return to San Francisco and crash at our friend Nathan's, wake up the next day and rock Oakland. With no big drives on the horizon, we geared up for a relaxing remainder of the California coast.<br /><br />I walked to a starbucks with CB before everyone else emerged from the Texas Toast. We went to a starbucks to use the facilities*, headed back to Texas Toast, gathered our brethren, dropped our trailer to leave at the Toast house till our return, and hit the road. <br /><br />Once we got to Big Sur country, there was a single two way road winding tight around a great shear mountain sloping unabashedly to the crashing pacific. The water all up and down this coast was nothing to toy with… surf country, big water… the mountains are all covered in what appeared from a distance to be a healthy velvety fur, the color scheme of the landscape is all muted and earthy, golden and hazel, with deep navy sea under cloud cover. A huge cloud of mist touched the shore like wizard hands, the clouds drifted into the mountains just at road range, so many times we were driving through thick mist such that you couldn't see 20' in front of you. Glancing down to our right (east) was a shear cliff of brambles, to the left (west) the face rises up into gray nothingness…<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiegGYRI7jaIly1XeGjrzFylFhf9n6Dw1cJJVkqEpqGHjJcNCsFI3BuERRGgZBB4RRdrcvX9Zkrbq4noYHOpG6xZjRrKWGQPwcLxGlCYlWfbU7GUjaTqfCzFrku_HGjhu0OLKhimiz21cM/s1600/IMG_4320.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiegGYRI7jaIly1XeGjrzFylFhf9n6Dw1cJJVkqEpqGHjJcNCsFI3BuERRGgZBB4RRdrcvX9Zkrbq4noYHOpG6xZjRrKWGQPwcLxGlCYlWfbU7GUjaTqfCzFrku_HGjhu0OLKhimiz21cM/s200/IMG_4320.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637512859350629890" /></a><br />We cross Bixsby Canyon Bridge, every break in the road a chance to see the drama that is the ocean crashing way down below. We're just looking for a place to land, anxious to get to the drama and soak it all in. We find a touristy spot, park and walk down little dirt trails until it dead ends at a vista point, a wooden balcony about 4-5 stories above the beach we so desperately want to touch. the search goes on…<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5o6QgZxNo3nk8bijzbQG5Ifl2khe_8pNnhEYnXIsqvhYPR9LqalGOeJCoXGJvG6n5KiryxC0D3Mlr-tVdPU3SwrNbrO10RK8ee4ezld5W3h68oc_bsbY5AmMfGH7oiP0laNJlMzg1xYk/s1600/IMG_4270.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5o6QgZxNo3nk8bijzbQG5Ifl2khe_8pNnhEYnXIsqvhYPR9LqalGOeJCoXGJvG6n5KiryxC0D3Mlr-tVdPU3SwrNbrO10RK8ee4ezld5W3h68oc_bsbY5AmMfGH7oiP0laNJlMzg1xYk/s200/IMG_4270.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637510748241615282" /></a><br />We drive further down and see cars parked on a dirt turnaround, and a tiny little trail leading down, down, down. We park, descend, and find the trail splitting in two, one leading to a mine-shaft style wood framed hole in the mountain that just had the gravity of a black hole, and another tree covered path with a stream racing down to what must be the beach. We go for the mine shaft.<br /><br />The tunnel goes about 40 feet until it opens up to an amazing scene:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTD8oRkqmlXT6y_yeAZrzxzXCjpWTbec2-qkYM5Yt3dgnjMbulsHPwDv2mOEw8zRllEKZ46PenSxefwabkz0rm1nCTPvak6iOvEw0pP5ivUAzQqRFdNQNyQv1a-5TI_JfpHoiHkvRSzNY/s1600/271257_260299673980634_100000018091284_1157356_5476083_o.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTD8oRkqmlXT6y_yeAZrzxzXCjpWTbec2-qkYM5Yt3dgnjMbulsHPwDv2mOEw8zRllEKZ46PenSxefwabkz0rm1nCTPvak6iOvEw0pP5ivUAzQqRFdNQNyQv1a-5TI_JfpHoiHkvRSzNY/s200/271257_260299673980634_100000018091284_1157356_5476083_o.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637531619878897522" /></a><br />We emerge perched about 20' above the water, on a trail with a wooden fence. Below us is a small patch of beach surrounded by a scoop in the rock, being pounded by a huge sublime pulse of thick black pacific force. Each wave seems to tear hundreds of pounds of pebbles and rocks from the beach like greedy fingers only to slam it all back down with a crash. The water has a viscous film of giant leathery kelp at the surface, the canopy of what must be a deep dark underwater forest in constant motion. <br /><br />Every edge of rock we walk over meets the sea with violence. The forces at work are of a physics our bodies can't possibly relate to, and certainly wouldn't last long in. Resilient purple & white spotted starfish grip these edges. Nick scrambles over rock to try and pry one from its perch and fails. We walk to the end of the path, climb over the wooden railing, and crab walk on all fours to the outer edges. Waves are crashing, leaving little pools of life in the crevices, where we find sea anemones out of an Ernst Haeckel coffee table book… I recognize the species from coastal exploration at Montana Oso west of San Louis Obispo. I let my fingers gently drift into the scrambled wig of the anemone as its fingers close in with a surprisingly dry sandpapery suction… it feels good! My bandmates look on with caution as I risk getting an alien sting from the tentacles. I implore Evan and Nick to sample this tactile delight (okay, from here you really have to read this in some pretentious Olde Worlde Explorer's voice, maybe I have a pipe in my mouth, retelling at the explorer's club over curated cocktails in gramercy, y'kno?) and they follow suit. Commence Comprehensive Digital Photography via Mobile Cellular Devices!!<br /><br />We explore the other trail, and the beach, where we see a sea lion swimming along in the distance. The tide seems to be coming in. Not a soul around, one could potentially get "locked out" of certain spots by the tide!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV6y-rw8vs6dWRYsL8ocZ39WHEGzhX8dJerrzrvGm7IKrB7K6ZpPAXwSPLgVkM0CYO1JNR7Bwca_zTUYqLKzmab1SSPgNoogeXD4zQAlLZE_WLZA3dJ8k3kWhLsIusn7Nc9BbJeCjeRco/s1600/288951_260300053980596_100000018091284_1157361_6929144_o.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV6y-rw8vs6dWRYsL8ocZ39WHEGzhX8dJerrzrvGm7IKrB7K6ZpPAXwSPLgVkM0CYO1JNR7Bwca_zTUYqLKzmab1SSPgNoogeXD4zQAlLZE_WLZA3dJ8k3kWhLsIusn7Nc9BbJeCjeRco/s200/288951_260300053980596_100000018091284_1157361_6929144_o.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637510317359592146" /></a><br /><br />We are all starving, tired, the day has been long and glorious. CB knows of one other spot in his memory where he reached a larger beach, and we decide to go for it. With tips from a local cafe, we find the narrow one-lane path where trailers dare not go and make our way to the beach. Here, we found the golden egg...<br /><br />The beach was a long proper edge, lined by a forest of giant bonzai, and 20' out into the surf stood two great rocks, beach mountains. The one on the right had a great hole carved in its belly by millennia of hard pacific waves. the left mountain was spotted with succulents, and had rock formations that looked prehistoric. When I say that, I mean it appeared as though some art director fabricated the rocks for a dinosaur movie. Prehistoric, Ignatious, penetrated by millions of rock worms millions of years ago? The whole beach scene was from another world. This was a Tattouine beach, I half expected a mammoth to emerge from the woods behind a flock of saber toothed tigers to play a game of quarry-bone heehaw with a bunch of mermaids and unicorns with leis and rare healing herbs adorning their horns.<br /><br />I noticed two little tiny people climbing the left mountain in the distance, and I tore off my shoes and ran for it. I had to climb to the top. Little ice cream scooped pores in the rock face support my scrambling hands and bare feet. I am quickly past the point of no return, mid face, looking down to the surf, looking up to the top. I'm a spider. I'm a monkey. I'm at the dizzying top, I can see everything the world has to offer. This was the magnetic pole of awe for me on this tour. Here we are, at the top. For the next three weeks, I will be climbing down this moutainn until I step into my apartment in Brooklyn. Every word I've written on this blog describes a step to this point. I was ear to ear teeth. I was deep deep breaths. I was longing for all my loved ones, every friend, every lover, my whole family, I wanted them all to be here with me. I decided that I'd better enjoy this for myself. I started singing, I yelled out as loud as I could. All around me was gray clouds, mist, the sea, people on the beach were little ants, mountains on the shore disappeared into nothingness. The surf attacked my mountain relentlessly all around me, impossibly below me. I imagined a great storm, how many tsunamis this mountain must have weathered through history, the white foamy fists driving into the thorax of rock with death in mind, and here I was, a little tiny rickety boney fleshy flea finally on its crest. Me and the mountain finally meet, and I was happy I got the chance to shake its hand at this exclusive password-protected secret society cocktail party that took so much effort for this van full of brooklynites to breach.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNTTRYLG-Otr4xAZdmL78G6CE-sts0Du3j_qCfHITO90C0aozWorptqLgMdha4iABHmVcN0IWPMv6_8IieF9NLAW2Hmxlx5rx7lLsCNgKWwkEaE0KcBxFRkwQkT8e7Aa6s7afioNIFdSE/s1600/251526_10150761368350217_624970216_20070478_6223927_n.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNTTRYLG-Otr4xAZdmL78G6CE-sts0Du3j_qCfHITO90C0aozWorptqLgMdha4iABHmVcN0IWPMv6_8IieF9NLAW2Hmxlx5rx7lLsCNgKWwkEaE0KcBxFRkwQkT8e7Aa6s7afioNIFdSE/s200/251526_10150761368350217_624970216_20070478_6223927_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637510066204747346" /></a><br /><br />I felt truly happy. I felt the whole tour was for this moment.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIz2FAnQSvDuiXpjJQ5OH4eoOlGmCuo125h3g40ttWn1kp3Cnip3-gWi3Ybi3SvTrrlF0ycdhMcf5IIduaPDE5F6dGtLHZG1wgX96x4SE14RXgDVoPWh2d6sCZaTUkAmzEBBFvuoLDriQ/s1600/286140_260301870647081_100000018091284_1157379_338178_o.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:right;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIz2FAnQSvDuiXpjJQ5OH4eoOlGmCuo125h3g40ttWn1kp3Cnip3-gWi3Ybi3SvTrrlF0ycdhMcf5IIduaPDE5F6dGtLHZG1wgX96x4SE14RXgDVoPWh2d6sCZaTUkAmzEBBFvuoLDriQ/s200/286140_260301870647081_100000018091284_1157379_338178_o.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637512117154294498" /></a><br /><br />I climbed down, laying back on the rock, back to the mountain, all hands and feet searching the rock for steps. and tried to express my enthusiasm. Nick, who is afraid of heights, decides to go for it, followed by Brandon. I ascend with them one more time and take a last look before we decide to leave the beach.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxDdFWKg7XWZ7LCmQwD0EKmUW3oNfWnIfgXU23xgah-QAh4eJPLWEEhKLtw7SiFdLXGvukwmPzLGs-T3sSXfJPTRHuA9K77ouVdmjOWvy5m-_R5yt4AyN1OQ4W7njpBJL_2p0f01WeMYg/s1600/IMG_4436.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxDdFWKg7XWZ7LCmQwD0EKmUW3oNfWnIfgXU23xgah-QAh4eJPLWEEhKLtw7SiFdLXGvukwmPzLGs-T3sSXfJPTRHuA9K77ouVdmjOWvy5m-_R5yt4AyN1OQ4W7njpBJL_2p0f01WeMYg/s200/IMG_4436.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637511344055087234" /></a><br /><br />We go to a local bar / restaurant and order delicious food, some local beers, and reenergize before our trip back up to San Jose to get our trailer and then the final leg to San Francisco. We arrive at Toast house, say hellos & goodbyes, and ship off to San Fran. We get to 24th st and enter Dirty Thieves, take photo booth pics, drink a couple IPA's. <br />We walk to Nathans house but he's not home yet. We drink whiskey and water on his doorstep, take medium format pics with my holga copy, I blog on the sidewalk.<br />We eventually meet up with Nathan and crash on his living room floor. What a day!!!!!<br /><br /><a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150394019917907.449100.705382906&l=454dc96178&type=1">be sure to check out more photos here!</a>♥http://www.blogger.com/profile/14558600337157341127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5676762887844019670.post-65503885751871889152011-08-05T15:55:00.000-07:002011-08-05T15:56:25.592-07:00Evil Orcs7.27.11<br /><br />San Jose, Redwoods, Evil Orcs<br /><br />We wake up in Fortuna to Monica blending berries and batter to make us deliciously decadent pancakes with butter and syrup and apples and coffee. She and Dave send us off proper, and we head to San Jose. They give us tips on great redwoods spots, which we keep an eye out for.<br /><br />We're taking the Redwood Highway on the way down, and once we hit redwood country our pace slows down and we're spellbound, just looking for a place to stop and take in the scenery. the road becomes a winding tunnel through Endor, and we pull off and ecstatically skip into the forest like a bunch of smurfs. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlfpIrJcn7BIs9G7TwLRGicwoxfkp4AtETjZrxziHf4h7yuebY_7CplpS3kXrBlKvK4CTM7g9IkhWiP68wnEuZ30rL46Hmylc7d3OrcJm6XCpydRQSLRSAu57i4aghapgTLnVTKvqD2TM/s1600/IMG_4214.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlfpIrJcn7BIs9G7TwLRGicwoxfkp4AtETjZrxziHf4h7yuebY_7CplpS3kXrBlKvK4CTM7g9IkhWiP68wnEuZ30rL46Hmylc7d3OrcJm6XCpydRQSLRSAu57i4aghapgTLnVTKvqD2TM/s200/IMG_4214.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635975928693219602" /></a> <br /><br /> It doesn't take but 50 feet or so to feel completely encompassed by some spiritual majesty, the trees are so huge, the ground is bursting with giant clovers the size of cup coasters, and everything is so green and leafy that sounds are quickly deadened, furnishing a little bubble of silence around your body wherever you are. We're all separated, climbing on logs the size of freight trains, running hands over soft furry sawdust-skin on felled tree arms, circumnavigating giant tree trunks the size of houses. Bigger than bodegas. Footprints that would call for $5000/month rent in the Brooklyn market. Am I being clear? Single trees older than cities, in a city of their own. One could walk in it for days completely spellbound. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVTu1Tcex2SkrweTOmi0hU4gdaVDLTW-2pKsqeOXA62y146t-U-f92VOlUP5tDZVx_Q2-q6dPf0GKz_y1_irwFqeKYk4wOsu3f-QV4IN3zPMmkKWh8fFFZ8TAEqNi3_pb7ScXsIGlPJfA/s1600/IMG_4154.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVTu1Tcex2SkrweTOmi0hU4gdaVDLTW-2pKsqeOXA62y146t-U-f92VOlUP5tDZVx_Q2-q6dPf0GKz_y1_irwFqeKYk4wOsu3f-QV4IN3zPMmkKWh8fFFZ8TAEqNi3_pb7ScXsIGlPJfA/s200/IMG_4154.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635976330831032386" /></a><br /><br />We reluctantly get back in the van and move on toward San Jose. The roads are tight, winding 35mph curves that are tough on the van with the trailer. But we still manage the speed limit. Regardless, there is a cue of about 4-5 automobiles tailgating us, and when we finally reach a two-lane passing zone, we hear the roar of climbing rpms and to our left is a small car whose passenger leans way out of the window.<br /><br />In the shrillest screeching vocal assault she can manage, a woman in her 20's shouts "FUCK yooooooouuuu Get off the fffffffffFUCKING ROAD you ASSHOLLLLLES!!!! AAAHHHHHHH!!!!"<br /><br />It caught us so off guard that we collectively started cracking up. Until the next truck pulls up and is filled with muscular bearded demons with double handed middle finger salutes rattling off rounds like twin uzi's turning our hull to swiss cheeses. "FUCK YOU ASSHOLES!"<br /><br />We have just driven through one of world's most majestic forests, apparently all but lost on these expressive impatient travelers. We are not sorry, by the way, for going the speed limit on the REDWOOD MOTHERFUCKING HIGHWAY. They screamed by us and end up 3 cars ahead of us at the next stop light.<br /><br />Impressions of these two carloads of hotheads made the rounds in the van and quickly became tour memes. Endless hours of befuddled laughter has and continues to ensue as the retelling of our fellow road-goer's exclamations get more and more exaggerated. Blood curdling screams… the trees themselves must have shook their heads in collective disappointment at the human race. Shame on you, shrieking banshee lady. Shame on you, heaving truckload of impatient Orcs.<br /><br />Needless to say, all of this wonderful North Cali stuff made us late to the show. Texas Toast House has had a lot of problems as of late with neighbors and cops, and had to cancel our performance due to our late arrival. We played here last fall, it was a highlight show because of how small and enthusiastic it was, everyone is there strictly to see bands, everyone is SUPER friendly and accommodating, and we had a great time. Despite not playing, they still passed a donation jar around for us and made us dinner and let us crash. THANKS Texas Toast!<br /><br />It was a really cool dry night, so I actually slept in the van, which has a perfectly Matt-sized bench seat in the back you can pull down to a bed. Comfy end to a perfect day.♥http://www.blogger.com/profile/14558600337157341127noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5676762887844019670.post-53733264270175399592011-08-01T12:36:00.001-07:002011-08-05T15:55:12.441-07:00Whale of a time.7.26.11 (to Fortuna)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcgY-wL1GijJxMVaRp5schH0lADBBlYwmWff7q1qnZk8mKw5WkEj0jd7uTn5i6hhEHmXq7RsqJPbCIPRzkmCbHqelph_IgE7Zc8LrgRt8oj5YUXS-aQS5C4tsg0DM3izHJ-69XYuU03AE/s1600/IMG_4057.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcgY-wL1GijJxMVaRp5schH0lADBBlYwmWff7q1qnZk8mKw5WkEj0jd7uTn5i6hhEHmXq7RsqJPbCIPRzkmCbHqelph_IgE7Zc8LrgRt8oj5YUXS-aQS5C4tsg0DM3izHJ-69XYuU03AE/s200/IMG_4057.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635974269431469858" /></a>Waking up at nick's house in Portland… reeeeally early. we pack up and convene in front of nick's. Portland, like most of the coastal northwest, is flush with beautiful vegetation. Right in front of the house is a huge streetside array of flora just bursting with life… something that New York City really lacks in a block-to-block way. Sure, our botanic gardens and vegetal urban "events" are spectacular, but Portland is just leaning against a doorframe paying' no mind & chewing gum, and without jumping through hoops to create miracles of civic park glory, achieves a spectacularly peaceful lush cityscape at every crack in the pavement.<br /><br />Nick hops in the van, he's IN! We're gaining critical mass! Nick's unique and super-enthusiastic energy quickly makes the rounds in the van and suddenly it feels like he's been in Ghastly the whole time. We roll outta Portland and head for our show in Fortuna, CA, where our friend Dave, an amazing musician and former bassist of Pygmy Lush calls home.<br /><br />We pull off the road when we see our first proper North Cali pacific beach, where we can kiss the ocean.<br /><br />We continue to drive south, passing great redwood forests, epic beach vistas<br /><br />The next thing that happened on this trip would immediately cement itself in our memories forever and will probably be the highlight of this whole tour, if not in the top 3.<br /><br />We pass over this bridge spanning a river cutting through mountainous forest. On one side of the bridge is a crowd of people taking pics and pointing. I am in the passenger front seat, I lean out of the window as we slow to a roll and ask what everyone is looking at. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD8_0wok_YFjKHxZHF9ThPhQWim-0JrTtF6PdGwIGb_wKOolZrA9swGQ3gnIM7d4wFQWzFcRuIBWV_Jc927z1RvSYDcP-pMOEuq6-Er_YZpybxEBXaxnnkhUR9_7vwRiO9jHCZgNVVE9I/s1600/IMG_4094.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD8_0wok_YFjKHxZHF9ThPhQWim-0JrTtF6PdGwIGb_wKOolZrA9swGQ3gnIM7d4wFQWzFcRuIBWV_Jc927z1RvSYDcP-pMOEuq6-Er_YZpybxEBXaxnnkhUR9_7vwRiO9jHCZgNVVE9I/s200/IMG_4094.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635975057905528514" /></a><br />"A Whale!"<br /><br />A whale. "A whale!" I say. "A WHALE" everyone says. We are all 5 years old now. "Pull over! pull over!"<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3sOig1UMW3d9gPNsuHVX6wKwBkEAowUh2O-KqGDR7Hxc71m8mmDTZEimSjWAyuj1pxXyu8THBh2ImVMzdosIVs40f3LkXkmhD15uQ3ThovDLdqErdZxuQzTHjiEnDE47XgdW63jd-tyM/s1600/IMG_4082.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3sOig1UMW3d9gPNsuHVX6wKwBkEAowUh2O-KqGDR7Hxc71m8mmDTZEimSjWAyuj1pxXyu8THBh2ImVMzdosIVs40f3LkXkmhD15uQ3ThovDLdqErdZxuQzTHjiEnDE47XgdW63jd-tyM/s200/IMG_4082.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635975263574301138" /></a><br /><br /><br />We pass the bridge and do just that. Everyone grabs cameras, iphones, and jogs out to where the hubbub is. Hands on the concrete edge, looking down just below us into the water, a 30' gray whale is slowly swimming out of view, surfacing regularly to breath a plume of mist. It makes a little turn and heads back to the bridge, surfacing like a big slow ghost, tilting to the side to look up at us, waving its big tail, breaking the surface with its barnacled skin. It was an incredible experience, something most people spend years trying to capture, spending lots of money to do so! And this was a great way to see a whale as well, we were perched right over it, front row seats. We marveled at how this day kept eclipsing itself with one amazing experience after another.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi94rCl0AMhhigUuUNsbm0PIovAAQspXzyiUy5MTXmgrerJhjXw52V24Z9fqHGV6YkDTesmG6VtoU0A8lONjmZj-tZoyl9RFnaY2uA-X7yvlssqasJ5CvuhO1cMhh4Xo6_QibpggXGXWQk/s1600/IMG_4089.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi94rCl0AMhhigUuUNsbm0PIovAAQspXzyiUy5MTXmgrerJhjXw52V24Z9fqHGV6YkDTesmG6VtoU0A8lONjmZj-tZoyl9RFnaY2uA-X7yvlssqasJ5CvuhO1cMhh4Xo6_QibpggXGXWQk/s200/IMG_4089.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635975526590709618" /></a><br /><br />Tonights show was in Fortuna, CA. Our good friend Dave, formerly in Pygmy Lush, is going to meet us at the show. The show is in a bran at the top of a giant winding mountain.<br />The further we drove, the more remote it became, until we were all weirded out by how far out of the way this place was. Driving at night, taking sharp corners, we finally make it to a Barn surrounded on both dies of the street by cars, people are wandering around everywhere. We pull up, and kids are asking "Are you the New York band!?"<br /><br />We get out and survey the scene. Everyone is wearing smeared warpaint. people are sweaty and drugged out. This forest elf named Quaid appears, shirtless, curly hair all mopped and exploding. He is very happy we are here, and gives us warm gentle hugs. The first barn house has a DJ playing techno electro dandy dance. Some party goers are swaying to the glitches. there is what I recall being a trough of beans, but in reality probably a long table of potluck food stuffs. I didn't touch it. We were taken to a second barn in back that had stables and horse shoes and lassos and smelled like manure. Here's where you guys can set up. Black light fluorescent bulbs were crudely hung form the rafters.<br />My sneakers became spaceships.<br /><br />We dragged the gear through grass and barns and set up. everyone was curious, on drugs, happy to see us, and slowly the crowd gathered as we start checking our instruments and mics. I peer into one of the stables and see a giant 400 lb pig sleeping next his buddy the goat. "Oh my. Are they going to be ok if we rock out in here?" I ask Quaid.<br /><br />"They love music" assures Quaid. Excellent. Two living things are guaranteed to dig it, its a start. <br /><br />We play to a very attentive crowd, rock out, talk to some appreciative barn goers. Pack up, head to Dave's. I never did hear applause from the stable, but something tells me that pig and goat heard something uncommon floating on the air form the barn that night. Do pigs crack smiles in their sleep? <br />Dave lives with his girlfriend Monica in a cozy lil place packed with fun music gear and instruments. We sleep tight, no bedbugs bite.♥http://www.blogger.com/profile/14558600337157341127noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5676762887844019670.post-53534326966556843302011-08-01T11:38:00.000-07:002011-08-01T11:45:32.156-07:00Portlandia<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI8fBq2VePQzO1nLjhDgBdCI_gvraZvzkYQ6L8RQvgANkUanyaOxJKBPYFwrNP5kGTDi6h5meEABQ9bGc9aknqy5OEi7oyKM07TL3j-CfPdrYyFjqVqTQZiiR4C0Tb2sWINcYR6SceATs/s1600/IMG_3956.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI8fBq2VePQzO1nLjhDgBdCI_gvraZvzkYQ6L8RQvgANkUanyaOxJKBPYFwrNP5kGTDi6h5meEABQ9bGc9aknqy5OEi7oyKM07TL3j-CfPdrYyFjqVqTQZiiR4C0Tb2sWINcYR6SceATs/s200/IMG_3956.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635960167804809778" /></a><br />7.25.11<br /><br />A thunderstorm is sweeping across Seattle, a stark contrast to the unbelievably sunny cool dry weather we'd had for the past two days. We talk about the van, the crank case cover dilemma, and decide to drive to Portland before taking the issue any further… we had a show that night with Housefire, a really great band we played with last fall in Boise ID. <br /><br />We met up with are ol buddy Nick Choban, whom I met through Brandon back in Brooklyn last summer and illustrated a graphic short for. Nick is a great conversationalist, a naturalist and great appreciator of David Attenborough and NOVA, a Texan, and an incredible artist. His hand is super detailed and his drawings have a character of line thats always really pleasing to the eye. It was great to see him again, and we got to talking about our journey, our impending west coast joy ride, and before we knew it, he was considering hopping in the van and coming with us to Los Angeles!<br /><br />After the show Karaoke commenced, and Evan was the only man brave enough from our caravan to partake. "Dead or Alive" by Bon Jovi… he rocked us all.<br /><br />We met up with Ryan Parish, the drummer for Darkest Hour (also playing in Portland that evening), long-time friend of Brandon's, and our drummer for the Ghastly Fall '10 tour.<br /><br />He took us to a bar filled with arcade games that was pouring free beers for the Darkest tour. Before I actually made it out of the van I was overcome with exhaustion and passed out! I woke up about 30 minutes later and made my way inside. The tables were all glowing white light tables. Tired, hungry, worn out, we closed the arcade down and said our goodbyes to Ryan after he showed gave us an explanation of the new "Band Wagon" phenomenon, which is a giant van -bus hybrid that bands can rent for less than a tour bus but have to drive themselves round the country… These things are HUGE, and we all agreed it'd be a nightmare to try get that thing around all the precarious nooks and crannies we find ourselves pushing Blu and the trailer through.<br /><br />tired, tired tired….<br /><br />we drive with Nick back to his spot, he;s staying in a 2-story old wooden house and we crash on the couches and pull-out beds.♥http://www.blogger.com/profile/14558600337157341127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5676762887844019670.post-80917793664214814532011-08-01T11:30:00.000-07:002011-08-01T11:37:07.701-07:00Day off in Seattle<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIfIFd17E-kLdYjEsPNJBU4PLCV6dxoVXvsimAqOSmgDCfZT9K9KJFpCKVTyCDiY_iJjrHZxVkoBolrrwtWN_xbRTRuiugJXt91AiZwZ-dXNUWK7rdYlMBoPwSCcdFzAnYlr1qchud7wA/s1600/IMG_3899.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIfIFd17E-kLdYjEsPNJBU4PLCV6dxoVXvsimAqOSmgDCfZT9K9KJFpCKVTyCDiY_iJjrHZxVkoBolrrwtWN_xbRTRuiugJXt91AiZwZ-dXNUWK7rdYlMBoPwSCcdFzAnYlr1qchud7wA/s200/IMG_3899.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635957633597942434" /></a><br />7.24.11<br /><br />I wake up and CB is already gone to move the van every hour from parking zone to parking zone (bless his heart). I got a shower and packed up my gear and headed to Victrola for some coffee. I was soon joined by the whole crew who was planning a big brunch at the hacienda. On our horizon was a trip to a salvage yard to try and find a new crank case cover and fix this vulnerability we have with the van… too bad it was a rare sunny dry cool day in Seattle!<br />I returned to Connor & Julie's to a full-on waffle/cheese-mushroom-jalapeno egg/home fries brunch courtesy of the household & Co. One of the best breakfasts of tour to date, for sure!<br />After brunch we split up, Brandon and Evan went to the block party happening in Capitol Hill to see our tour nemesis, Battles, Connor & Julie went to a BBQ, and CB and I drove north about 20 min to a salvage yard!<br />I put on a wifebeater and leather gloves, CB grabbed a wheelbarrow, and we took a list of comparable engines and scoured the yard for a crank case. The yard was muddy and super dirty… I got under a couple vehicles with missing cases before I found a couple we could harvest. I started unscrewing the bolts with the socket wrench only to find that the last bolt was metric, and I didn't have the size I needed! I walked over to another salvager and begged for tools. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8Zk6NQVUOg0XIFGQ4R1JZ7bFQ8VLLhKEbtH_xS9D8zH2GYXdDbj1JPJpiTSxADXZW9L-8o8H_VOdQFiA4k76fucTbt5KD8gVVugEkOq15TX4dHEL2fvqBtGlfI6YbMhz8ayfpKCoukcQ/s1600/IMG_3912.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8Zk6NQVUOg0XIFGQ4R1JZ7bFQ8VLLhKEbtH_xS9D8zH2GYXdDbj1JPJpiTSxADXZW9L-8o8H_VOdQFiA4k76fucTbt5KD8gVVugEkOq15TX4dHEL2fvqBtGlfI6YbMhz8ayfpKCoukcQ/s200/IMG_3912.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635958066916112386" /></a><br />"I charge $15/hour for my tools.." he smirked slightly.<br />I laughed and smiled big, and got the 10mm socket I needed and finally retrieved the cover. We drove to a Walmart to get a new trailer tire as the old one was balding - only on the right side, which is another puzzle we have to figure out. while in the parking lot, I fix the case cover to the engine and have CB start it up as I hold it in place, but the noise is still happening even with a healthily shaped cover. more puzzles, this also means we have to keep driving with the cover off.<br /><br />After a long day of duty, we drive back to Capitol Hill, I do some laundry, and we prepare for our pilgrimage to In the Bowl, my favorite Thai restaurant in Seattle. Its a tiny hole in the wall covered in pictures and statues and everything on the menu is amazing. All vegan, super spicy (a "3" will chemically alter your brain, "2" tends to be the perfect balance of heat and heaven), and the owner/staff is very friendly. I ordered soy duck coconut curry with veggies and basil and cherry tomatoes. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWZQWsi0IjLYFAR0_bcifOqkvu8cmZ7RNS1Uu8Md2q3zbuaRJxXNAOMCMLeDPU45-b4rP9pZ333vTqY8DMPcpxnjwskqdB3K9zp8wIcoRXHxty85br0JQHgJ0vmzanRDh3cb3qsnRMAO8/s1600/IMG_3935.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWZQWsi0IjLYFAR0_bcifOqkvu8cmZ7RNS1Uu8Md2q3zbuaRJxXNAOMCMLeDPU45-b4rP9pZ333vTqY8DMPcpxnjwskqdB3K9zp8wIcoRXHxty85br0JQHgJ0vmzanRDh3cb3qsnRMAO8/s200/IMG_3935.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635958307961534626" /></a><br /><br />The night ends chill back at Connor & Julie's with IPA's and music in the windows in the front lawn. I start nodding off in my chair and head for the couch.♥http://www.blogger.com/profile/14558600337157341127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5676762887844019670.post-70988165460955992322011-08-01T11:16:00.001-07:002011-08-01T11:32:49.077-07:00on to Seattle<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivprQhF0KuQaBYYgrxQvbTWk_TuDd9KRrXHYFFiE_o3es68keNH99K7zxJZiCGRgZ5QHCCeuzU6n0_5sMBZ5-1DlGGthqV-OZ0l1Tf8ieasVlaOFxLlHMJsQwivo-7ul01KtcdWdJn0Pc/s1600/IMG_3879.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivprQhF0KuQaBYYgrxQvbTWk_TuDd9KRrXHYFFiE_o3es68keNH99K7zxJZiCGRgZ5QHCCeuzU6n0_5sMBZ5-1DlGGthqV-OZ0l1Tf8ieasVlaOFxLlHMJsQwivo-7ul01KtcdWdJn0Pc/s200/IMG_3879.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635954201248085106" /></a><br />7.23.11<br /><br />We wake up in Missoula and Josh is already in the kitchen cooking up some eggs from the free-roaming chickens in his garden. Coffee is being pressed, Chard is being chopped, cheese grated, everything smells divine.<br />We all take showers, wash up, get rollin and sit at a table and enjoy the gift of a home cooked meal.<br />From Missoula we have about 10 hours on the road to Seattle. We are staying with Conor and Julie - Connor is Evan's older brother, we stayed with conner and Julie last fall when we toured with Ryan on the drums. It was pretty neat to have family in the circus coming through Seattle.<br />We head straight to the venue - Funhouse - where we got on a bill with Master Musicians of Bukake… part of the Mr. Bungle / Secret Chiefs family!!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiETBncaSn0Hi1kjINcDpTnS1QAZ8LPJLhhFglPBW4n_kHARCYymO-RXFHvKc6JeZYbDnIWH2jdN_Zfi-cjduHrtwEEwoQTVpa7iIZRNFmVq4EvoLcfZKeiO0IqkwBqgettWsToAzDM0kw/s1600/IMG_3881.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiETBncaSn0Hi1kjINcDpTnS1QAZ8LPJLhhFglPBW4n_kHARCYymO-RXFHvKc6JeZYbDnIWH2jdN_Zfi-cjduHrtwEEwoQTVpa7iIZRNFmVq4EvoLcfZKeiO0IqkwBqgettWsToAzDM0kw/s200/IMG_3881.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635957143775360786" /></a><br />We loaded in, parked the van and headed out to get a meal. The show was lots of fun, I met up with my old friend Bryce with whom I've played in numerous bands… Bryce is the current drummer for Military Junior and one of the best drummers I've ever been in a band with. <br />We played, had a blast, and enjoyed Master's set along with our friend Cody, who plays under Young Bear - a beautiful ambient guitar & effect based project… all around great night. We were exhausted after the show and crashed hard at Conor & Julie's.♥http://www.blogger.com/profile/14558600337157341127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5676762887844019670.post-1490731038246834952011-07-28T10:22:00.000-07:002011-07-28T10:35:28.037-07:00Who Knew Idaho was so Perrty?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2vMl7aoWJ0ORxXOeO3qn9GFtJax_MIkt3pG4m9zxXILgdkH2jdHCKn7G_wT4QqbYNYxejxIZ-ZE8576iq-1OR6A97zlSr_loEm5cfhJvFMi45jPHZs_BxbFIyPEnEDJBDQpEMsResOag/s1600/IMG_3682.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2vMl7aoWJ0ORxXOeO3qn9GFtJax_MIkt3pG4m9zxXILgdkH2jdHCKn7G_wT4QqbYNYxejxIZ-ZE8576iq-1OR6A97zlSr_loEm5cfhJvFMi45jPHZs_BxbFIyPEnEDJBDQpEMsResOag/s200/IMG_3682.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634457029739756114" /></a><br />7.22.11<br /><br />I wake up in the van, Cb was driving and he has stopped. Ususally, this means van trouble, I peek outside to investigate. He's outside taking pictures, and suddenly I realize where we are… or at least, the nature of it…<br />He had pulled off the side of the road en route to Missoula. It was dawn. Cb and I are often the first and only ones up in the morning, so we end up sharing a lot of moments like these. He smiles from a ways away and I look around and see why. We are next to the most pristine picturesque mountain stream, surrounded by steep mountains peppered with evergreens and brush, the sun kissing the river side and great mountain shadows shielding their western faces from the morning. The air was crisp and cool, everything was so perfectly still, and you could hear the water running below us. We immediately get to snapping pictures.<br />Cb just smiles like an ol' wise man. Words really can't express what we saw, it was pretty darn divine.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifBr4pgBOS7N0az6xZG6P6F8BJ50_Dq1vZqFkiMJFUGUqyk0Z2d2wcQqxJgMbJgMkUkbYuID-xlTqAHh8aWrdE_2Tyz97oFj22WNbKlC-ogcRGuaig0J7N31hDBG56-AAH6FeOBNPWLfo/s1600/IMG_3674.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifBr4pgBOS7N0az6xZG6P6F8BJ50_Dq1vZqFkiMJFUGUqyk0Z2d2wcQqxJgMbJgMkUkbYuID-xlTqAHh8aWrdE_2Tyz97oFj22WNbKlC-ogcRGuaig0J7N31hDBG56-AAH6FeOBNPWLfo/s200/IMG_3674.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634457580425918482" /></a><br /><br />From here, Cb drives until he's ready for some sleep. His trucker DNA affording him heroic acts of geographic transportation of our little circus, he's been known to take the longest shifts of all of us. I take the wheel to get us closer to Missoula. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqHQYzbRFSCrtqY4TaLrbSzx8TmDHixbX4XipXR_fYg9snLPMEV6bJlOJj_kyLIpp-1TI20JSFg2_Q2Oe122q73D0hMWyexftL1y3b-164pQrC4L0aTUw1gWk-61-rKMT5W7CbFUP18G8/s1600/IMG_3677.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqHQYzbRFSCrtqY4TaLrbSzx8TmDHixbX4XipXR_fYg9snLPMEV6bJlOJj_kyLIpp-1TI20JSFg2_Q2Oe122q73D0hMWyexftL1y3b-164pQrC4L0aTUw1gWk-61-rKMT5W7CbFUP18G8/s200/IMG_3677.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634457877879574946" /></a><br /><br />We are driving north through Idaho, and in case you've never been and just imagine potato fields, let me take a sec to describe it. This is my 3rd full United States tour in this van, I can say at this point that I have seen quite a bit of the states and I've been around. This was the most beautiful stretch of road I've ever seen. At this latitude in Idaho, the geographic vocabulary is like Yellowstone… the famous park itself being only a bit to the southeast. These roads were winding through huge mountains and are always flanked by rivers trickling, washing, raging over rocks. The sky is cloudless, the water deep blue, the rocks are unreal in their contrast and ruggedness, and the trees are lush and seem to go on forever. I was constantly beside myself at the wheel.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv2PpPhVVlN8mPWtdYgJ-OLJbfOxmRHSpNClR6ZDbS4v2BVTeva5CIpEwyjzSoCzIDYAD96ncbzrxN_MKc4_UzQTcnun1Vj06wLsINOv1On3WjoSDO3QwkodgMH9hELPOC4FSEu9YyHqw/s1600/IMG_3712.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv2PpPhVVlN8mPWtdYgJ-OLJbfOxmRHSpNClR6ZDbS4v2BVTeva5CIpEwyjzSoCzIDYAD96ncbzrxN_MKc4_UzQTcnun1Vj06wLsINOv1On3WjoSDO3QwkodgMH9hELPOC4FSEu9YyHqw/s200/IMG_3712.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634458058220460306" /></a> <br /><br />We were all a bunch of bedazzled tourists with iphone cameras glued to the windows through Montana.<br /><a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150386913052907.446569.705382906&l=8fb6f8f937&type=1">Check the album for pics…<br /></a><br /><br />We get to Missoula and pull into a walgreens to get some supplies and contact our contact!<br />When we get back to the van, our rear driver's side tire is flat!!!!<br />This is the "new" tire CB replaced in Denver. What a miracle it happened here and not in the middle of the mountain passes we just came though!<br />We drive to a Firestone and they patch it up and put it back on. <br />Off to the venue - Zoo City Apparel, a silk screening / arts collective that inhabits a huge showroom and warehouse in downtown missoula. We get burritos, the band splits up, brandon works on getting a new phone, cb sleeps in the van, and evan and I walk around town and chill.<br /><br />When we all reconvene to play the show, the tire is flat again. All places are closed, tomorrow is a sunday. We miss the first band's set because we're all outside doin' what we do on this tour - change tires!<br />We place the full-sized spare on the van and head inside to get ready to play.<br /><br />The show turns out to be awesome, we met some new friends, played well, put all that vehicular frustration into loud guitars and drums and screaming vocals and jumps and strums and headbanging. some cans of shocktop are passed to us, we shake hands, smiles are everywhere, all is well again.<br /><br />We retire to Josh's house (THANKS AGAIN FOR PUTTING US UP!!!) and clean accommodations. <br /><br />another day, another dolla' into ol' blu<br />^_^♥http://www.blogger.com/profile/14558600337157341127noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5676762887844019670.post-2747809446410704252011-07-28T10:01:00.000-07:002011-07-28T10:07:54.352-07:00less money, mo' problems<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHmvNWygQYAjj8-p_FZFCXiQ-fmZTxruFAFTjGqFkqnWzZ3dXF4-pLBBL5V_LKEQhvI3rgQvuPmpXOaG2Tzmv-xzwItF3erwd53eqaMSv1wzZ_AiZFcVOEHh_n28_1zBSgaWGHenXnX90/s1600/IMG_3669.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 130px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHmvNWygQYAjj8-p_FZFCXiQ-fmZTxruFAFTjGqFkqnWzZ3dXF4-pLBBL5V_LKEQhvI3rgQvuPmpXOaG2Tzmv-xzwItF3erwd53eqaMSv1wzZ_AiZFcVOEHh_n28_1zBSgaWGHenXnX90/s200/IMG_3669.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634451048243610818" /></a><br />7.21.11<br /><br />We drive to Boise without problems. Straight to the Visual Arts Collective, which is a beautiful space with an art gallery, a huge stage, pro sound system…<br />We played there last fall, the sound is amazing, everyone on staff is a sweetie.<br /><br />As if we needed any more hardship, Just before our set the Rhodes Piano, which was previously fallen upon by a giant naked guy and had its stand broken, collapses on the rigged stand that I "fixed" with a master lock. The piano falls so hard that a plate on the stand impales the keyboard and when Brandon and CB lift it up they can't see the stand because it is stuck on the bottom of the rhodes. I was in the bathroom, Cb comes to me to break the bad news.<br /><br />We sub in a lighter stand and soldier on. What else can you do?<br /><br />The show goes great despite our disbelief in the continuous flow of bad luck The shows are always amazing. Everyone is focused, intensely in their own world and yet all together and orchestrating this wall of sound we call our set. Its all we got at this point, but its the reason we come out here.<br /><br />I"m exhausted, I pass out on the floor after the show in between keyboard cases. Brandon finds me and laughs and wakes me up. The band drives to a diner to fuel up and make an overnight drive to Missoula MT. I stay in the van and pass out. hopefully when I wake we're alive and makin' our way to MT!♥http://www.blogger.com/profile/14558600337157341127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5676762887844019670.post-7352743761670836652011-07-24T11:48:00.001-07:002011-07-24T12:21:24.463-07:00666 Devil Child - pt.2<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9RGDRIvjv898PGMGVXN4aF8PQfHXi1x1bVowH7itOVNIk3hXt5IzbPf88Hr5WM1mJnLAGQ2XpdPt3m4dCzK-x_upIfAICzxa8xP-NVK8a-kXOA1Ngmuz2Jmn0TDznmKboeh_1L2PHr3Y/s1600/IMG_3582.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9RGDRIvjv898PGMGVXN4aF8PQfHXi1x1bVowH7itOVNIk3hXt5IzbPf88Hr5WM1mJnLAGQ2XpdPt3m4dCzK-x_upIfAICzxa8xP-NVK8a-kXOA1Ngmuz2Jmn0TDznmKboeh_1L2PHr3Y/s200/IMG_3582.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632998857154110242" /></a><br />7.20.11 - 7.21.2011<br /><br />666 Devilchild Part 2<br /><br />at this point we are all in with Derrick. He has our trailer on his truck with over $10,000 worth of music gear inside, our van in a parking lot in his town, and all of us in his truck.<br />Not one minute in his truck and he's out of the gate firing…<br />"So let me give you a little background about myself, I just got out of prison about a month ago…"<br /><br />Derrick:<br />At one time, one of the top 4 (high school ?) wrestlers in the country<br />"I learned to fight really young, my grandfather would send me to Spokane with a one-way ticket, and I'd have to fight for money to get back home."<br />Gun owner, but prefers hand-to-hand combat<br />Served in the United States military in Iraq as an army infantryman, was shot just under his arm during his service (lifted shirt to produce scar)<br />recovering Oxycotin & other prescription pain pill addict<br />Dirt bike racer & daredevil stuntman, endorsed by the Coca-Cola company. He has a 450cc bike amongst others that he practices with. In August, he will be jumping two adjacent highway overpasses, the police will be shutting down traffic for the event! His racing name is 666 Devilchild.<br />Is not a racist. "I own a color T.V."<br /><br />He asks what kind of music we play. I seem to sense everyone gulping and thinking really hard, really fast. We never even went over this. He has a fancy bluetooth stereo in his super truck and wants to hear either our music or something we have on an ipod. "Its, like, rock, y'know"<br />Evan quickly produces a no-b.s. song from his collection with an edge and a sweet beat to fill the air. We all quietly sigh in relief.<br /><br />He worked as a roofer for a company that screwed him over, he promised to create his own company and in turn blow them out of the water. This was his current job.<br />His truck was filled with disassembled picnic tables. <br /><br />He's punching his turbo throttle, swearing at truckers trying to pass in the right lane, gunning it in his truck, talking about the runaway truck lanes, sinking in the sand, making jokes about our little trailer in the back, always with a quick wit and an edgy sense of humor geared to keep both smiles on our faces and the suspense in the air quite tangible.<br />He must have smelled our apprehension and desperation, and he ran with it. I wish I had an audio recording of our ride to SLC, he had us laughing the whole time. Something unmistakably charming about his manor, whether it be Coalville swagger, general small-town way with people, or just magic in the man himself. He was an endless well of stories, and had an aggressive "me vs. the world" shell around him that belied his bewildering generosity. He insisted that he didn't care if he got into the show or not, he'd wait outside with the trailer while we played and drive us back to Coalville and our van afterwards. Then he'd put us up in his house, his family is out of town, he has plenty of beds, a shower, and he can help us in our quest to fix the van and get to Boise.<br /><br />We make it to the venue, he helps us unload, we get in the front door and the bouncer is checking ID's. Not only that, but in crazy Salt Lake fashion he's running our ID's through a scanner to verify them. Derrick is either sneaking in or getting an official exception. Due to the intense scrutiny at the door we decide to plead his case with the bouncer. He says no go, but we can ask the owner when she arrives. Derrick doesn't care a bit. We offer him some cash to get something to eat while he waits, he doesn't want it.<br /><br />We played at a venue called Deluxe, it was huge! <br />We loaded in, checked on Derrick here and there, felt bad about him having to wait on the sidewalk, but he insisted & his truck had a movie theater in it, so he could keep entertained. <br /><br />The show was weird. Hardly anyone was there, but of course, BATTLES was playing elsewhere in SLC, so there was that! X-/<br /><br />we were all strung out and discombobulated from the craziness of the day, but we played through and began loading out. Derrick helped once again, we said our farewells to the show promoter, whose band we were playing with the next night in Boise. We hopped back in the truck with Derrick, who snorted some snuff and rocketed his turbo sleigh along with our exhausted asses back to Coalville and our van. More stories, more 75mph swerving and truck racing! We get back safely, grab our sleeping bags from the van and head back to Derrick's to crash.<br /><br />He lives in a nice little house with a huge basement with lots of rooms and a huge entertainment center. He cleans toys off the rug, unfolds a couch bed and takes a mattress out, shows us the bathroom, shower, basically opens his home to us and hooks us up with generous accommodations. We were incredibly lucky to have happened upon him, and we couldn't thank him enough. If it weren't for him, we wouldn't have made the show and we'd be totally lost in an unfamiliar town in the mountains.<br /><br />We set our alarms for 8, everyone is up early and showered. Evan and I emerge from the basement and have coffee with Derrick.<br /><br />He tells us about his family, his girlfriend who just broke up with him, not believing in his rehab efforts. They had a beautiful wolf/huskie puppy together that she took and won't let him see anymore. His family is gone for a month or so, his birthday was in June (Gemini… you knew that already, right?) and he's alone for his birthday every year. He takes prescription meds to deal with pain pill withdrawals. He seriously opens up to Evan and I, and I get the feeling we're getting a side of him not many people get to see. He makes us coffee and shows us his 450cc bike that he practices on, this is the bike he'll be making the bike freeway jump with in August. He cranks it up and I videotape him doing a 10' jump off a dirt ramp in his yard.<br /><br />Now its time to deal with the van. Derrick takes us back to the gas station where it sits, insists that he follow us to a mechanic he knows before he has to be at work around 2ish. The mechanic isn't around, so Derrick pushes the possibility of us taking the cover off the bottom of the crank case off ourselves. I'm ready to hop into action, its all we've got at the moment, and Derrick has tools and apparently a couple of ramps he's welded himself that we can drive the van up on to work under it. We buy a small socket set from NAPA using Derrick's company's discount and I get under the van with a 3/8" socket. We get the case off and we start the van up… NO NOISE! the gear in the crank case has been brushing against the cover all this time! This means we don't have a broken transmission! <br />We head back to Derrick's house with the van, since he has the ramps, more screws and bolts, and general tools to try and fix the cover so the gear doesn't hit it. We drive it up on the ramps and Brandon & I get underneath to take put all four screws in to secure it properly. It still grinds when we start it up. We take it off again, our hands covered in grease and dirt, all under our nails, dirt falling on our faces. Cb and Evan continue to provide encouragement and support. Derrick is throwing out ideas all over the place.<br /><br />In the end we work for a couple hours, hammering the case out, putting it back on, still grinding, take it off, space it from the block with washers, put it on, still grinding, take it off, Derrick takes out a hand saw and suggests we cut a big channel in the case where the gear grinds it. He tells Brandon to hold it down while he's holding this saw. I offer Brandon my leather gloves, he's like "here go right ahead!" I'm seeing hands and blood flying everywhere in my head. But this is the whole experience with Derrick. Despite all of your brain's projected disastrous outcomes and cautionary red flags, this is all we've got. And Derrick is so insistent. <br /><br />I put on my gloves and hold the cover down while Derrick takes the electric saw to it. "Watch your eyes!"<br />Sparks fly everywhere, I'm squinting but also trying to look closely at my hands, one slip on Derrick's part and I'm missing fingers, maybe a hand. I can feel sparks hitting my face.<br />He cuts a frankenstein jagged smile into the case and I have all of my fingers on my hands, which are also still attached to my arms. It all happened so fast, I barely had time to reason. <br /><br />We replace the cover, but AAAHHHH!!!!! its still grinding!!!! WTF!?<br /><br />So, in the end, we decide to just take it off and search for salvage yards or mechanics further up the road who might have the part. The van runs fine, its just a little dicey having a gear exposed under the body.<br /><br />Derrick is telling stories about his biking, injuries, apparently he wrecked really bad once and had to get a metal plate in his head, 100's of stitches…<br /><br />Brandon and I are struggling to take the cover off one last time. I heard Derrick say to Evan, "You like adrenaline rushes?"<br />Evan: "… huh?… as much as anyone else I suppose…"<br />The work under the van continues, but EVERYONE is thinking the same thing. Oh SHIT…<br />Derrick: "Take your glasses off."<br />Evan, takes glasses off slowly…<br />D: "Give 'em to him." <br />E: "oooohhkaaay…" Hands glasses to CB.<br />D: "I'll be right back!"<br />CB: "What the fuck did you get yourself into!"<br />I'm under the van covered in shit trying to get these bolts and washers off thinking Evan is really in for it, whatever it is!<br /><br />The bike motor starts up, and up rides Derrick!<br /><br />E: "OH, no, sorry, I'm not doing that."<br />D: "oh yes you are!"<br />E: "I don't think so, sorry man"<br />D: "Look, your trailer is still here, your van is okay, you just have to trust me."<br /><br />We're all a little terrified for Evan, but really, what choice did he have? I rolled out from under the van, yelled "oohhhhh shiiiiit!" got my iphone and started shooting. Goodbye, Evan. And good luck.<br /><br />D: "Now wrap your arms around me, hold on tight, and when I say LEAN FORWARD, you better LEAN FORWARD!!!!!"<br /><br />The motor roars, and off they go. I can hear him in the distance changing gears rapidly, the 450cc bike roaring like a tiger. In the name of the father, the son, espiritu santo….<br /><br />3 minutes later they're back, and Evan has a huge grin on his face. He dismounts and is speechless, I'm not sure whether he's thrilled, or has a pair of pants full of shit. He's quiet but smiling. A cigarette can't get into his mouth fast enough.<br /><br />We call it quits with the van, Derrick shows us to the Gojo soap, Brandon and I scrub up, and Derrick hoses our arms off with a garden hose on the side of his house. <br /><br />D: "Alright, just one thing left. Matt, its your turn!"<br /><br />I can't refuse. No helmet, my arms wrapped around this 20 yr old's skinny waist, I suddenly feel as fragile as a twig. <br />Matt: "Where do I put my feet?"<br />D: "Just let 'em hang."<br />Me: "Just let 'em hang" I repeat nervously. There was no reason for me to say it. I just felt death watching over my shoulder and the words flew out.<br />D: "Hold on tight, and when I say lean forward, you better LEAN FORWARD!"<br /><br />Off we go.<br /><br />As soon as he has enough road he guns it up the gears, and my thighs lock to the seat! I remember distinctly the feeling of his ribs in between my fingers. My entire 32 years of life in the hands of a 20 yr old daredevil from Coalville. One ill-placed pebble and my brains on the dirt road. Pure adrenaline. We slow briefly to make a left turn and ahead of us lay a long stretch of back road with a highway over pass in the distance. I suddenly realize I hadn't asked Evan what exactly they did or where they went. Are we going to fly over this highway?<br /><br />The bike lurches forward and its all I can do to clench the seat with my thighs and his body with my arms. I never do hear him say lean forward, but as God is my witness, I am leaning forward. The wind is a big palm forcing my face backwards, the engine is roaring, I simultaneously feel the terror of a complete surrender of control over my life and the blood-curdling exhilaration of ultimate freedom and incredible speed, my mind going blank, my blood flush with adrenaline and white hot like lightning…<br /><br />We scream down the road to the overpass and bank up the angled side to make a left turn, and then its back up the road once more! My eyes are squinting for the wind, one more rocket blast down the road and it'll be over, so I really lose myself in this run. I know how to ride a bike and really enjoy it, but there's a big difference in being a pilot and a passenger. When you're in control of your own fate you are earning the adrenaline reward with your own skill. Sitting in back, you hang on for dear life. You're not even balancing, you're just weight. Nonetheless, the feeling was like a rollercoaster rush x1000. Super bonus level-up points. <br /><br />Derrick slows down to take the turn, we bolt down the road his house is on one last time but its brief. we glide into the driveway, and I take an arm off his waist and shout out to Brandon, Cb and Evan, who is videotaping our return. I imagined myself as a badass who just returned from a fighter plane dogfight. If you look at the video, I'm leaned over pitifully hanging on to this dude for dear life like a sac of beans. It's hilarious!<br /><br />I yell out again with a huge grin on my face and look to Evan for a little mutual understanding of what it feels like to have survived our little wake up call for the morning.<br /><br />All this before breakfast.<br /><br />We wrap up, Derrick gives us a bunch of fruit and veggies from his fridge, we can't thank him enough for everything, and we're off, engine sounding smooth as silk…<br /><br />We find a little diner and sit down for breakfast. I remark, "I think that bike ride permanently altered something in my brain, I feel like a different person…"<br /><br />I walk to a grocery store and buy some food instead of ordering at the restaurant. When I return, the ghastlies food still hasn't arrived. The waiter is an old retiree whose all smiles and talkin his sweet time. He tells a slow story about a disgruntled customer...<br /><br />"Being from texas, and pardon my french, we don't pay attention to shit unless we step in it."♥http://www.blogger.com/profile/14558600337157341127noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5676762887844019670.post-89482264699269164342011-07-24T11:23:00.000-07:002011-07-24T12:14:58.683-07:00666 Devil Child - pt.1<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOMjkVjR3dUBait9pAckTJ3RowI16-m_lDb55JpdJB9-J2vsLaewQzDbUh7aZYOWMveeEIG5kihK6BfI2swv_UwdUJX2n7V34lveTSulFfx5_BjbcrFR1AmJ8jX9NMpXFJhUrA_c42Bns/s1600/IMG_3577.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOMjkVjR3dUBait9pAckTJ3RowI16-m_lDb55JpdJB9-J2vsLaewQzDbUh7aZYOWMveeEIG5kihK6BfI2swv_UwdUJX2n7V34lveTSulFfx5_BjbcrFR1AmJ8jX9NMpXFJhUrA_c42Bns/s200/IMG_3577.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632999460271183474" /></a><br />7.20.11<br /><br />666 Devilchild in Salt Lake City, Part 1<br /><br />Brace yourself, dear reader, this is a saga...<br /><br />On a quiet Denver morning, Cb wakes up before everyone and takes the van to the tire joint to get a new full sized spare for the van. I get up and take a shower and then go back to bed. Somehow, despite last night's events, I am the last one out of the house, when it comes time to leave. We drive to our second home (Yellow Feather) and Brandon and I get coffees and make oatmeal on the sidewalk while CB and Evan go for huevos rancheros.<br /><br />With the new spare tire, tires rotated, we finally feel like our troubles are over. This is the first tour with Ghastly where we've had to throw in personal $$$ for gas cause our expenses have outweighed the merch & door earnings. Into the west and to the coast, where we finally turn this thing around!<br /><br />It's a hefty drive from Denver to Salt Lake City, about 10 hours for us. Denver's distant mountain view and endless manure filled plains give way to the mountains, its your first real view of high contrast bulging rock formations in the earth heading west. In past tours, we've had to play denver>boise>seattle, or even denver >seattle, which is an insanely epic drive that must include overnight shifts. Dangerous stuff to do at night alongside semi trucks on steep 6% grades where you have to downshift into D2 & D1 in order not to burn your brakes off. Growing up in Florida and driving up and down the east coast, one has no idea what this even means. I remember the smell of burning brakes as we went flying down a grade in the early morning last Fall on this same stretch of the journey… it's scary... Remember, we're hauling tons of gear in our trailer.<br /><br />We are finally doing this drive in the daylight hours, and its breathtaking.<br /><br />Lots of fuel fill-ups and mysterious mountainscapes later, we notice a little clicking sound that used to accompany full-throttle acceleration on past tours - something we thought we fixed last fall when we had a broken piston replaced. Evan was driving, we decide to pull over. We are about 30-40 minutes east of SLC, in the mountains, some little place called COALVILLE…<br /><br />As we slow down we realize the sound is like nothing we've heard before. Its a bad clanking sound that is directly related to the engine belt rhythm. At idle it clinks along, when you accelerate, it speeds up. We pull over to gas up and investigate. We all get out and listen for the location of the problem, I slip under the van to get a closer look. The belts are fine, its coming from deep inside… Brandon is underneath at this point and has it located further back than the engine block under the hood.<br /><br />I look underneath on the driver side and realize that part of the transmission is just hanging open! Its between the oil pan and the transmission pan. I photograph it with my iphone and immediately send them to J, my oldest friend and go-to car diagnostic Guru. Knowing that the sound is coming from / near the transmission unsettles me… a transmission is something that can de$troy a tour like this.<br /><br />I quickly tried to think of solutions. Clanking noise, hanging transmission piece… must bolt that thing up proper, right? I go into the gas station, where I meet a very amused young blonde girl behind the counter who perpetually looks like she's on the brink of uncontrollable laughter whenever I look at her. She heard us coming… maybe all of coalville heard us clanking' into town, now that I think about it...<br />"do you have any hardware, screws?"<br />"nope, just some thangs over ther." (a place with no screws). At this point, I'll take wire too, i can wrap wire around the holes and rig it up until we get to SLC. but nothing here…<br /><br />I go outside and CB has befriended an old guy coming out of a garage, who gives him a couple lengths of wire, the perfect gauge!<br /><br />I went back to see if I could wire the cover back on...<br /><br />I'm not sure exactly when or from where he came, but we were suddenly joined by a helpful kid who talked pretty quick and confidently, offering us advice and options, asking us questions. Things were happening fast, and we were running out of time to catch our SLC show, which meant potential & essential $$$ for this leg of the journey would be lost. He asked about our band, where we needed to be and when, etc. He listened to the clanking sound, suggested it might be the exhaust, problem solved a bit, mentioned mechanics, parts stores, and before we knew it, it sounded like we had a real coalville expert on our hands.<br /><br />Something dawns on me & I try something before I wire up the cover piece. I slip back under the van and hold the cover tight against the body where it goes and tell Brandon to fire up the engine again, being careful to avoid the smoldering exhaust pipes and other hot metal under the van. He cranks it up, and the sound is almost worse when the cover is where it should be… something banging around in there? Everytime I press up on the cover, the sound gets worse, which leads me to believe the gears inside are clanking against the cover itself.<br /><br />All this time, I'm trying to get a solid diagnosis, feeding data to J, who I had obviously woken up not realizing the time zone difference between Utah and Florida until I heard his sleepy but nonetheless committed voice listing options.<br /><br />Meanwhile, this dude from the gas station has offered to hitch our trailer with our entire life as a band inside and drive us to Salt Lake City in order to make our show. He has a Triton turbo charged super souped-up brand new truck and guarantees us he'll get us to the show in time. His level of commitment to our situation was beginning to show, it looked like this dude really honestly wanted to help. Our options were running out. <br /><br />As I'm still on the phone with J, the band is gathering their personals, and this guy has them unhitching the trailer. I say goodbye to J and get the 411…<br />We are taking a chance on this kid. We are putting our trailer with all of our gear on his truck. He guarantees our van will be safe in this Coalville parking lot. He has agreed to drive us to SLC to our show, and after our show, drive us back. He has offered us a place to stay too. He lives 3 minutes from the gas station. He moves quickly, talks confidently, he's kinda wild eyed and wiry, he looks like he's 18 years old. The whole group relays the story to me, he goes to get his truck. I stop him and ask "hey man, what's your name?"<br />"Derrick."<br />He's 20 years old, so we might not be able to get him into the club we're playing. He's fine with that, he insists he'll wait outside.<br />I quickly shake hands with him - he's kinda not into being all friendly, just gettin the job done - and head back to the van to get my personal belongings.<br />I change into jeans, grab my backpack, and head over to Derrick's truck, hop in shotgun while ghastlies get in the backseat, and off we go!<br /><br />Dear reader, we will never forget Derrick. stay tuned for part 2…♥http://www.blogger.com/profile/14558600337157341127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5676762887844019670.post-72677008645312770972011-07-24T11:21:00.000-07:002011-07-24T11:23:03.044-07:00Denver Day 27.19.11<br /><br />Denver day 2<br /><br />I wake up earlier than the group and head off to the Yellow Feather to write, work on video, post photos, drink coffee and get some rare alone time on tour.<br />I'm pacing back and forth in front of the coffee shop talking on the phone when out comes a barista with a bell jar filled with a fresh iced cappuccino!<br />"this was a test, I was teaching someone how to make it, enjoy"<br /><br />Denver is cloudless with the exception of a great billowing wall of cumulus cauliflowering over the rockies off in the distance.<br /><br />eventually, Ghastly and all our Denver friends are there, I pack up and we head out to Goose Town Tavern for some delicious pizza and local IPA's served up by Chuck.<br />Across the street from Goose Town is the Bell House, which is an olde-timey looking' theater with neon lights and a big marquee. Battles is playing tonight! Battles, the new project of Don Caballero Guitarist has been following us on this tour, laying waste to all of our turn-outs and, well, making sure there's a high profile main event in every city we play in. <br />but we love them, so we sneak into the theater to hear the drummer sound check. We eventually get interrogated, and Evan very professionally identifies us:<br />"Oh, yeah, we're a touring band, we have a show tonight at 3 Kings, just wanted to see (name of Battles drummer) play."<br />Security politely nods as if to say, <br />"I don't speak your language, but I'm sure you will be leaving any moment now."<br />He was right.<br /><br />The bursting cumulus torrent over the mountains has reached Denver, and it starts to pour…<br /><br />chuck's shift is up, we load his bike in the van and head over to his house, where we say hi to his fam, drink tea, pass out, watch spiders, and weather the storm.<br /><br />My sister Erin just moved to Boulder where our cousin Grace lives, they drive out and meet us at Sputnik Bar, which is like Denver's Top (g-ville). After some beers, the best grilled cheese sandwich I've ever had [asigao, tomato/pesto, thick crispy bread], & a photo booth that really can't fit a band of 4 though we tried, we head over to 3 Kings down the block and get ready to rock out with Git Some again!<br /><br />I taped our entire set, which I'll post to YouTube soon. I also taped individual Git Some performances, which were stellar! The singer spent most of this show on the floor & in the arms of the crowd, everyone rocked with a ferociousness. Thanks to Michelle for running our merch table! <br />Whiskey shots materialized and then vanished, and by the time we got home I was done. I remember Brandon offering a bottle of champagne to me while I was brushing my teeth. I envisioned the massive hangover my bandmates would have the next day and I declined in favor of my sleeping bag. It was 4am anyhow. I have a rule on tour that if a new bottle of champagne is opened past 4am and the only people surrounding me are Ghastly City Sleep I do not touch that champagne. This old man had some dreaming' to do.♥http://www.blogger.com/profile/14558600337157341127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5676762887844019670.post-72896612986806760182011-07-24T11:19:00.000-07:002011-07-24T11:21:12.094-07:00Denver Day 17.18.11<br />Denver day 1<br /><br />I awoke at dawn, in Colorado. I take out my earplugs, stretch, wrap up my sleeping bag. The air was so wonderfully COOL last night I am in a hoodie and a sleeping bag!<br />Evan is driving. We stop at a gas station. I buy a starbucks mocha frappacino drink thing and a gallon of water. I pee and brush my teeth.<br />We drive a little more and pass miles and miles of colorado flatlands filled with corn. Everything smells like cow shit. Miles and miles of cow shit. We burn sage sticks over and over again.<br /><br />Evan passes the torch to CB, I remain in shotgun. No clouds in the sky. Cooler, drier air than the East. Big puffy hawks are perched on all the power lines.<br /><br />Slowly, the smell of manure fades and the sight of the Rockies emerges on the horizon. I look back to Evan, but he's asleep. I think to myself that I appreciate the energy of traveling with someone who is seeing many of these cities & states for the first time. There's always new things to see, I'm a window seat person for life, but I have seen this landscape before.<br /><br />We make it to Denver, land at our old hub the Yellow Feather coffee house, call our friends Neil & Michelle with whom we are staying, and get some time to chill.<br /><br />Neil & Chuck's band Git Some headlines our show tonight… they're badasses, and the live show is intense.<br /><br />Before the show Evan and I crash in the van for about an hour, its no green room, but it'll do. We drove straight through from Lincoln the night before, so we were all incredibly exhausted, plus we made the mistake of eating giant burritos and having a beer at about 5 pm, which sealed our fate.<br /><br />We played at Neil's old space in downtown Denver, the stage was on a half-pipe. Our friends Cigarette were on tour headed back to VA, and passed through Denver & played the show, it was great to see them, really beautiful chill material.♥http://www.blogger.com/profile/14558600337157341127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5676762887844019670.post-30272078443733693312011-07-18T12:47:00.000-07:002011-07-18T12:51:06.287-07:00Fording the Flood<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB3A2porP4jrXoUnCJqt4k1nQjxyG4h8iRz0ZdOl72kFsxZYGI03S40MyF5Sdz-4PNPmsmBykuAXeL_FSIYvbBy_yj0qKh-F3AiwhxfwCNLVT87ksW4_3XNWPn5iIn5zRtBZB1vAhutyQ/s1600/IMG_3380.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB3A2porP4jrXoUnCJqt4k1nQjxyG4h8iRz0ZdOl72kFsxZYGI03S40MyF5Sdz-4PNPmsmBykuAXeL_FSIYvbBy_yj0qKh-F3AiwhxfwCNLVT87ksW4_3XNWPn5iIn5zRtBZB1vAhutyQ/s200/IMG_3380.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630782256633730098" /></a><br />7.17.11<br /><br />Had to wake early to make the 9 hour drive from St. Louis to Lincoln NE. It always takes us longer in the Chevy, since we can only go 65 mph and we're carrying a ton of gear in the trailer. Said our fond farewells to the Hawks' and hit the road.<br /><br />The trip was mostly uneventful, Evan drove for most of the way, and then I took over. I think I was only 2-3 hours away from Lincoln when we came across a most unusual sight…<br /><br />As we approached the Missouri / Nebraska border, the landscape changed very abruptly: It looked like waterworld… we were surrounded by water. Trees and rooftops, silos, powerlines… these were the only islands in an unsettlingly vast ocean in what should have been farmland. I remembered hearing about flooding and storms in the midwest about a month ago, but we were stumped as to what could have caused something at this scale.<br /><br />The further we drove the more dramatic the flooding appeared. A real military hummer was perched atop a highway overpass, and we began to see detour signs along our intended route. We stopped at a gas station on a hill overlooking the floodplain. It was profound enough to warrant some photographs - all you could see was water and rooftops. CB asked a local guy taking pics what the deal was. Apparently, a Dam was released way up north that caused more dramatic water levels than intended, and on top of it all, a great deal of snow melt & storm water combined with a quickness no one anticipated.<br /><br />info via NYT:<br />http://www.nytimes.com/2011/06/21/us/21flood.html?_r=1&scp=1&sq=missouri%20river%20flood&st=cse<br /><br />We consulted our iphones, took local advice, and followed detour signs to try and cross the Missouri at a point a little further north.<br /><br />Despite the grade of the land taking us up in elevation, every westward road we encountered was closed to thru traffic due to flooding. At this point we are way off course, heading north into Iowa on smaller country roads in an attempt to cross the river. The heat was intense, and any time we stopped the van & the 65mph airflow ceased, sweat was just running off our heads, into our eyes. I had to get my towel out just to wipe my face while I was driving. I applied sunscreen to my left arm and took my shoes off.<br /><br />The landscape was the only comforting thing, as the detour took us from flat farmlands to lush rolling forest & wildlife preserve roads on Iowa's western border with Nebraska.<br />We wound around, every stop yielding the same: roads closed, river flooded!<br /><br />We stopped to try and re-route even further north. A mud-worthy truck came down the little road and we flagged him down to ask his advice. I stayed in the driver's seat as Cb, Brandon and Evan approached his vehicle. I heard them ask about crossing the river, and a wide grin tore across his face as he laughed out loud. There was a woman in the passenger seat smiling too. He advised us to go north, then head back east about 10 miles to 275, north to pacific junction, and finally west connecting with I80, which goes to Omaha. We hastened to get the van up to speed to feel the air on our faces again.<br /><br />All in all we remained about 150 miles from Lincoln for what seemed like 4 hours. We went north, finally crossed the river upstream, passed through Omaha, and finally made it to Lincoln. Tonight was a house show procured by our contact Vic. By the time we got there we were so exhausted and delirious we were joking about calling the cops on the show so we wouldn't have to load in our 5000 pounds of gear!<br /><br />We finally got it together, hauled it in starving, suffering from heat exhaustion, and morally beaten to a pulp, and were poised to play. <br /><br />I'm so far in the game this time around I"ve been enjoying being a little more vocal at shows. It's funny, at my age I'm always playing for a younger audience, and well, lets face it, Ghastly City Sleep is now officially a band of road dogs. This is our third full U.S. tour, and altogether probably our 8th or 9th tour en total, so we be seasoned like a cast iron skillet in yo' grandma's kitchen. I recapped a couple of anecdotes from the tour, letting folks know it is a minor miracle that we made it this far… our tire blow out, the naked dude, the great flood, and I thought to myself, this IS a minor miracle that we're here! I asked the audience for a beer and offered $1, but cans were handed out for free and off we went.<br />The show was really fun, some peeps knew our songs, we ended super strong and sweaty as hell.<br /><br />We loaded up and drove to our favorite burrito spot in Lincoln and had the best burritos ever. It was more about placement than actual burrito quality, but they were good nonetheless. We were so starving and dehydrated and exhausted! Burritos are like, the ultimate tour food. Beans, rice, avocado, veggies, and if you dare to dairy, queso y sour cream. The majestic earth's bounty all wrapped up in an oiled & sauteed snuggie, bursting at the seams, just lying there on the couch watching TV getting fat and fabulous practically begging for someone to just come along and sink their teeth in and…<br /><br />I'm gonna stop right there.<br /><br />Get in the van, pass out, with luck we'll all be alive and in CO when consciousness comes tapping at my window again.♥http://www.blogger.com/profile/14558600337157341127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5676762887844019670.post-45003552940646532742011-07-18T11:10:00.000-07:002011-07-18T11:19:56.955-07:00Blow-Out<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBd66wChtChy1VSpzEPNk_AFUwPIr4Ej3SALl7OAnpzeUeXD2DBJXw2SaSChhXY1pkTfpBIC9q1mrAM4Z33emMn3YAhiZr1AikkXxxZM5LqHlwUecS9y4y24s8CIXhBoHbOJx1T_yFd8Q/s1600/photo+%25285%2529.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBd66wChtChy1VSpzEPNk_AFUwPIr4Ej3SALl7OAnpzeUeXD2DBJXw2SaSChhXY1pkTfpBIC9q1mrAM4Z33emMn3YAhiZr1AikkXxxZM5LqHlwUecS9y4y24s8CIXhBoHbOJx1T_yFd8Q/s200/photo+%25285%2529.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630758075849148930" /></a><br /><br />7.16.11<br /><br />We get up early enough to get a good head start to St. Louis. I get to lounge in the back of the van for an hour or so, then its my turn to drive.<br />I'm goin for about 120 miles or so when BAM! the right rear tire explodes into a fury of shredded rubber and grinding metal against hot pavement!<br />I struggle briefly to maintain control of the van, swerving a bit back and forth (thank god I wasn't surrounded by other vehicles!) and bring the van to a safe gradual halt on the side of the road.<br /><br />Whew.<br /><br />Well now, its over 100 degrees in the hot sun, the whole caravan brought to a screeching halt, we have a show to make in a couple hours, and we're out a tire.<br />Everyone hops out, gloves on, we get out the spare, and we start loosening the lugs. The jack for the van is a little one-post crank jack that can barely lift the van high enough to get the wheel off the pavement! We jack it up in two different spots, but we still can't get it high enough to get the new tire on.<br /><br />I was thinking we'd have to get a tow, or hitchhike to the next stop to get a better jack. The jack we had was simply not fit to raise the van appropriately. But we weren't defeated yet, and wouldn't you know this crew of gypsies and their eternally twisted smiles were still managing a few jokes here and there (I attribute it to the dash of irish on board, we'd be laughing down the throats of crocodiles if we were still in earshot) and we surveyed our collection of junk to find a solution.<br /><br />We tried a number of ideas until we concluded that the best bet was to jack it up as high as it would go, place the old wheel under the brake housing, let the jack down, and shove both a table top from in the van and a 1-1/2" piece of plank wood under the jack to gain an extra 2" of height. We jack it up again, all the while warning each other about appendages and heads under the body of the van as the sheer wind of oncoming traffic shook the van on its precarious little peg leg.<br /><br />A number of cranks later we had the clearance we needed to get the full-sized spare on. We snugged the lugs, let her down, tightened everything up, and jumped for joy at another seemingly impossible obstacle averted.<br /><br />We broke the new tire in, stopped at the next gas station, checked all our tire's air pressure, bought ice cream for all, and I took my pants off. <br /><br />To put shorts on.<br /><br />An hour later we were passing the Saarinen;'s Arch, the Gateway to the West, landing at Lemp Arts where we enjoyed air conditioning, fruit & salads, & a couple retellings of the days events.<br /><br />One of my oldest besets friends Dan Hawks, who now resides in St. Louis with his family, met us out at Lemp just as we were about to go on. We spent some time before eth show rigging gear up to work - our broken Rhodes stand got a master lock to hold it up, and CB & Evan used hammers, pliers and brute strength to free up the Rhodes' sustain pedal pole. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifR_7sPaSipB-CqKLR72_4uTGTR_FQ8gl3GBCp3CXzPxNfuWKbwqr2qByoZs9o-iCYl4zQrzIaMbsvoF5FGZwDoyOU5sW3wdS91g3UJKADvrGozA8sYh_CD7Pl3rU6mlDyraC3xTfpZLM/s1600/IMG_3203.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifR_7sPaSipB-CqKLR72_4uTGTR_FQ8gl3GBCp3CXzPxNfuWKbwqr2qByoZs9o-iCYl4zQrzIaMbsvoF5FGZwDoyOU5sW3wdS91g3UJKADvrGozA8sYh_CD7Pl3rU6mlDyraC3xTfpZLM/s200/IMG_3203.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630758501973622018" /></a><br /><br />It all paid off at the end of the day - we played well, were received well, Dan & I went grocery shopping and caught up while the rest of Ghastly closed up the show, and we reconvened at Dan & Anika's to enjoy delicious gnocchi, salads, beer, Arnold Palmers with Vodka, and home made chocolate filled cakes with ice cream courtesy of Anika… who also gave us a slightly less than sober tour of her garden in the pitch black backyard, and we all crashed on comfy beds with full bellies and exhausted bodies.♥http://www.blogger.com/profile/14558600337157341127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5676762887844019670.post-43256655809812331322011-07-18T11:04:00.000-07:002011-07-18T11:09:17.744-07:00Day off in Chicago''''''''<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkhVaYH8FTsKL7ecQmmBg_h7CTJJ50aSSjZ8-rQIgP8N0XOYLiVh7pYyyQoXgKnczdJFSnPr9uBnb7S-76f2dXPbx4pwwfbE4kj9b50-qxHLY5eaAFGZAmFWdTowC0k0o7ikIkIej8fRA/s1600/IMG_3176.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkhVaYH8FTsKL7ecQmmBg_h7CTJJ50aSSjZ8-rQIgP8N0XOYLiVh7pYyyQoXgKnczdJFSnPr9uBnb7S-76f2dXPbx4pwwfbE4kj9b50-qxHLY5eaAFGZAmFWdTowC0k0o7ikIkIej8fRA/s200/IMG_3176.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630755288540253682" /></a><br /><br /><br />7.15.11<br /><br />Day off in Chicago!<br /><br />I woke up early and walked west out to the lake. There was a cool dry breeze peeling off the water and it felt amazing.<br />Chicago is really pretty, don't get me wrong, but something' about a beach on a fresh body of water turns sand into just plain dirt in my mind.<br />If there's no sodium in the sediment, I fell like its missing a critical purifying element that makes fresh water seem weird to me.<br />I was raised on the Gulf of Mexico, so any large body of water that isn't salty and full of bitey whales and sharks is very peculiar. <br />Having said that, the water was the most incredible deep blue, and seemed to beg you to jump right in. I wandered around this curly cove and found myself looking south towards Navy Pier and the Chicago Skyline…<br /><br />If you look out into the water, you'll notice a giant building way out there… almost looks like an island with a lighthouse on it.<br />This is the Wilson Avenue Crib, and its a structure that pumps water from the bottom of the lake to the city for drinking water.<br />http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/c/cd/Wilson_Avenue_crib_060820.jpg<br /><br />We had the privilege of attending a backyard BBQ where we roasted corn, drank coronas, and ended up in a high stakes ($1/game) hot dice game.<br />Unlike Detroit Dice, this was the old-school hot dice I used to know, where you roll 5 at a time, 3's are zeros, and you take as many dice from your roll as you like in an attempt to get the lowest possible score. You roll until you have 1 dice left.<br /><br />I lost two games until I received a magical good luck wish from the ether, and then I won every game until the crowd of 8 players or so got tired of me and walked off or left the BBQ altogether. I was on fire, like Evan had been in Detroit. If only all this dice luck could be translated to Van wellbeing or tour fortunes.<br /><br />Beggars can't be choosers, especially out here on the road!<br /><br />Tomorrow we head out to St. Louis to see my old friends Dan & Anika, and their new baby boy Indio Eugene!♥http://www.blogger.com/profile/14558600337157341127noreply@blogger.com0