Scenes from the van

Karolyn : drooling



James : blogging



Lucas : driving



Steve : smiling

Daniel : whining

bad ideas?

Songs we’ve decided we want to cover while on tour:

“Jolene” by D. Parton
“Elvira” by the Oak Ridge Boys
“What A Fool Believes” M. McD.
“Turn The Page” by B. Seger and the S. Bullet Band
“In The Summertime” by Mungo Jerry (which we almost worked out at a soundcheck in Indianapolis)
“Little Sister” or “Don’t Cry Daddy” by E. Presley

We’ve also discussed the possibility of recording a song for Car Talk.

In other news, James just shaved the back of my neck in the van. It was weird but relaxing. He also bought a blunderbuss that doubles as a cigarette lighter. And a mouth harp. He buys useful things.

Lucas

random note...

Lucas is on a push-up train. He says “I don’t know where it’s headed, but I know I like the lay of the track.”

New York to Annapolis in just three easy drivers

New York City

I tried to sleep as much as I could going into New York because I knew I would be driving us out of the city after the show. I awoke to the sight of the Manhattan skyline, which was one of the most beautifulest happiest friendliest sights I’ve ever seen. We all of us had friends and/or family to see, so spirits were up. During the radio-receptionless drive through the Holland Tunnel I regaled the band with rockin’ Casio Chord songs on my little keyboard that thankfully had finally found some use on the trip. (I tend to pack a lot of quasi-useful things on trips.) Steve expertly steered us into the busy city where we unloaded our gear at Pianos Bar in the East Village and then hung around ‘till our early (7pm) show. I got to play the piano at Pianos on a couple quieter songs, which was good practice in anticipation for the Kennedy Center gig the next day, where I was to play on the house Steinway (finest kind). After we played we briefly split up to hang out with friends. Karolyn and I went with my sister Mandy (who lives in Brooklyn and brought a good fraction of our show’s crowd) to an excellent home-cooking restaurant called “Mama’s”. By midnight we collected ourselves in our varying states of drunkenness and headed out of town. We all wanted to stay, but I think we wanted to stay forever just as much as we wanted to stay the night...


Besides, I had a mission that unfortunately required our (relatively) early departure, and the rest of the band was (begrudgingly) kind enough to indulge me. My best friend Drew Nations was to graduate from the Naval Academy in Annapolis, Maryland the next morning. Karolyn and Steve took the first shifts and I made efforts to keep them alert with the finest of techno musics. Around 2am (during Steve’s turn) we ran into a grid-lock that lasted about an hour and a half. Everyone but Steve and I were phasing in and out of sleep, and the van gradually got hotter (our primary way of keeping cool is motion). The fumes from the trucks were horrible, and it was essentially a nightmare. The one redeeming thing when we finally reached the end was the awe-inspiring sight of giant jack-hammers, cherry pickers, and blowtorches taking down a bridge that went over the turnpike. Large chunks of concrete and bent metal flew through the sky and crashed on the roadway below as thousands of sparks from the kind of torches you’re not supposed to look at lit the night sky. It was kind of cool, but probably not worth waiting that long for seven lanes of traffic to merge into an exit lane... We took a rest stop where we debated the squished penny options (earlier in the evening Daniel, Steve, and I got matching squished pennies that read: “You are very special to me”. Each word is in its own little heart.) Steve had certainly earned the right to crash, so Lucas deciphered the directions from Drew that I’d hastily scribbled on a newspaper whilst sitting on the sidewalk in Manhattan. I drove and Lucas navigated as night turned to morning, and we arrived in Annapolis around 6 am.




Drew’s family had rented an incredible house for the week leading up to his graduation; it was three-story modern with a dock and a sailboat in an inlet that likely led to the harbor. I ushered the sleepy band inside where they crashed and I went (at 6:30) with Drew and family to the Naval Academy stadium. I didn’t even get to sit with his family, as I had a general admission ticket. We were there three hours early (because Drew had to be there then). I was pretty darn tired; I found a good seat at the rail of the upper level, but nearly fell over when I dozed off a number of times. Eventually the stands filled and the hour-long procession of all 997 graduates and then their faculty made their procession onto the field... two... by two... by two... To my left in the seats was an army guy and two of his friends—they were all from Augusta, GA, so we talked weather and Soul Bar for a bit. Seated to my right was an old minister from Bentonville, Arkansas who regaled me with drawn-out stories I didn’t ask for, such as how he knew Sam Walton (of Wal-Mart fame, which is headquartered in Bentonville). Seems that Mr. Walton wanted to spend less money on his store signs after he opened his third “Waltons Five-&-Ten”. Hence the eight character name. So there you go. I will say that the Naval Academy knows how to throw one hell of a graduation. The Blue Angels buzzed the stadium (all of the instant camera pics I’ve taken on the trip will have to be added later, perhaps when we publish our “Tour-Blog: final edition”) and ole Dick Cheney was the Graduation Speaker. Incidentally, I was most fearful of falling asleep and falling over the railing when Dick gave his speech... I was really fading fast as I’d been sitting in the same place at this point for four hours, but I was temporarily revived by a chili-cheese dog and a cup of coffee. So then they announced every single graduate’s name (that’s thirty ‘companies’) which I was okay with as I am pretty damn proud of my friend Drew. (We’ve been friends pretty much since infancy and he’s a lot like a brother). I even got a little verklempt; I may have a few patriotic bones in my body after all... After the cannons were fired and the caps were tossed I headed with Drew and family back to the house, where the somewhat rested rest of the band and I departed for Washington DC.


-Jambo

The Pitts

Pretty much since Grand Rapids we’ve been ‘rocking’ the turnpike, which has to be the weirdest highway I’ve traversed in my limited travels. Not very many exits from it, and rest stops with crappy food every 20 miles or so—but they’re always open. We left Chicago too early and loud grumpy humor abounded. We finally stopped for breakfast outside the city at a truck stop with disgusting Hardee’s breakfast. A jovial Amish family was also partaking—are they allowed to do that? I began the trend of the squished-“penny souvenir” back in Indy and continued it with a Chicago squished penny and we departed for Pittsburgh. After chugging through the flat monotonous countryside of most of Ohio, we finally began to see some hills and finally beautiful green mountains and valleys of Pennsylvania. Hours (and hours) passed. One of the cool things about Pittsburgh is that is abruptly appears between the tree-covered mountains... not much suburban ‘boo-shit’. Pittsburgh was kind of dirty but none of us cared—we loved it. We arrived at the club Brillobox and loaded our gear up the twenty-some-odd wooden steps to the upstairs portion of the bar. We had plenty of time before we were to play, so we explored one of the main stretches and stopped in at Armand’s World Famous Fish Sandwich (the kitchen was already closed, so it was just a bar.) It was right up our alley (if we had alleys things could go up): dark, smoky, Jeopardy playing on both TVs and no one else in there under 50 years of age. The bartender proudly showed us the counterfeit ten dollar bill that was prominently displayed above the register.

***

After the show we decided to make some movement towards our next destination: The Big Apple (does anyone ever call it that anymore?) Continuing on the turnpike we stopped in a rest station at around 4 am. Daniel and Lucas saw the Burger King there and concluded that, because it was open, they must purchase some food. I was thoroughly interrogated by the friendly gas station clerk and was only too happy to regale him of our band’s identity and goings-on. After a good ten minutes I was finally able to purchase my ginger ale and return to my sleepy band-mates at the Baptist Bump. I monkeyed my way up to the windshield with a squeegee (estimating the demise of approximately 150 bugs since we cleaned it last). After logging an hour more or so we stayed in a hotel for the first time on our trip. Wireless internet allowed us to take care of important business, such as watching the Strong Bad email about his candy bar “Splounskched”. Living in the gutter with Grandma!

-Jambo