Second verse XV: Get off your high horse, lady
Waking up at the Griffiths house has been really fun for the last couple of days. Their coffee maker was pretty fascinating. It's one of those coffee machines where you load a small packet of coffee and it makes just enough for one mug. We live in the future, people!
We rolled out at 2pm; Brooklyn's not far, but we wanted to get there early. Ross was meeting some friends for dinner, and Jen and I were meeting the kids from Radio America.
Jen accidentally threw out the directions to NYC, but we more than managed with the Atlas we keep handy in the van for such occasions. Every now and then I wonder how the hell this was done before the internet, and there you have it. We were like little fuckin' Magellans, cruising around the globe.
We got to Trash Bar a little after 5pm and unloaded our things. I talked to the bartender a little, who turns out is my age and was also born in Miami (though she grew up in Hollywood, up in Broward). Small world. Jen and I spoke to Tom from Radio America and made plans to meet up with him and Gabe (the other guitar slinger in the group) later on to watch the VP debates. We were starving, though, so Jen and I went for some Thai food— I think the place was called Tai Thai. At any rate, it was really good and really cheap.
The mood was very somnambulant. New York does that to me, not really sure why. Maybe it's just too fucking crowded for me. Or maybe it's the last night of the tour, and then it'd be right back to the grindstone. I had an epiphany that I'm really, really good at being in a band and not much else. It's one of the very few things in my life that can hold my undivided interest. It's a lot of hard work, but most of the time it doesn't feel like it (and when it does, you just go through it without even thinking about it). I had a pretty tough time readjusting to life back home the last time around, and I suspect this time will be no different.
We met up with Tom and Gabe, who were also accompanied by a few other friends (which included the one and only Mr. Photog) to watch the VP debates at Hope Lounge down the street. In some ways it reminded me of watching the 2000 debates between Bush and Gore at Gracie's Grill, only less serious (which was super, super cereal). That was something. At the time, some woman got really drunk and started yelling at Jen that Bush would destroy us all (which was odd, because Jen certainly didn't support Gov. Bush, but I guess proximity is nine tenths of the law... or something). The VP debates were entertaining compared to the presidential one. Joe Biden did well I thought. The guy was probably as clear and forthright as any politician will allow themselves to be. Sarah Palin is a joke; you want to talk about descending into self-parody, she's your poster child (wink). Which isn't to say I think she's a stupid woman— she's just in over her head. Way over her head. I'd be surprised if a Sarah Palin Bingo Card didn't show up on the internet within the week.
We headed back to Trash Bar afterward. We were supposed to go on at midnight (they call this "headlining" to make bands feel better... and we went on closer to 1am anyway). The show went alright (I'd give it a B+), but by this point we were extremely tired and ready to head back home (ideally for a couple of days, then back on the road, but 'tis not to be). I slept through most of the trip back home, so there's not much to report on that front. What I will say is that the entire day I was looking forward to that 2am Wendy's off exit 40, and when I get there, no burgers. Just "chicken product". Goddamnit.
A hungry stomach knows no loyalty, though, so I settled for a chicken sandwich before passing out in the car again. The rest is a blur. It was cold and the sky was a navy blue. Tuned in to FNX for a bit of familiarity. Unloaded our gear at the space. Got back to our apartment around 6am. Talked to Beca and Martin, who were crashing at our place, and compressed 2 weeks into 10 minutes of conversation. Where does the time go...
Bed.
Zzzzz.
Somewhere between consciousness and the dreamworld, it occurred to me that I'm pretty goddamned lucky to be able to do this at all. Much like the last time, I can't wait to start this all over again.
Cheers,
Henry
We rolled out at 2pm; Brooklyn's not far, but we wanted to get there early. Ross was meeting some friends for dinner, and Jen and I were meeting the kids from Radio America.
Jen accidentally threw out the directions to NYC, but we more than managed with the Atlas we keep handy in the van for such occasions. Every now and then I wonder how the hell this was done before the internet, and there you have it. We were like little fuckin' Magellans, cruising around the globe.
We got to Trash Bar a little after 5pm and unloaded our things. I talked to the bartender a little, who turns out is my age and was also born in Miami (though she grew up in Hollywood, up in Broward). Small world. Jen and I spoke to Tom from Radio America and made plans to meet up with him and Gabe (the other guitar slinger in the group) later on to watch the VP debates. We were starving, though, so Jen and I went for some Thai food— I think the place was called Tai Thai. At any rate, it was really good and really cheap.
The mood was very somnambulant. New York does that to me, not really sure why. Maybe it's just too fucking crowded for me. Or maybe it's the last night of the tour, and then it'd be right back to the grindstone. I had an epiphany that I'm really, really good at being in a band and not much else. It's one of the very few things in my life that can hold my undivided interest. It's a lot of hard work, but most of the time it doesn't feel like it (and when it does, you just go through it without even thinking about it). I had a pretty tough time readjusting to life back home the last time around, and I suspect this time will be no different.
We met up with Tom and Gabe, who were also accompanied by a few other friends (which included the one and only Mr. Photog) to watch the VP debates at Hope Lounge down the street. In some ways it reminded me of watching the 2000 debates between Bush and Gore at Gracie's Grill, only less serious (which was super, super cereal). That was something. At the time, some woman got really drunk and started yelling at Jen that Bush would destroy us all (which was odd, because Jen certainly didn't support Gov. Bush, but I guess proximity is nine tenths of the law... or something). The VP debates were entertaining compared to the presidential one. Joe Biden did well I thought. The guy was probably as clear and forthright as any politician will allow themselves to be. Sarah Palin is a joke; you want to talk about descending into self-parody, she's your poster child (wink). Which isn't to say I think she's a stupid woman— she's just in over her head. Way over her head. I'd be surprised if a Sarah Palin Bingo Card didn't show up on the internet within the week.
We headed back to Trash Bar afterward. We were supposed to go on at midnight (they call this "headlining" to make bands feel better... and we went on closer to 1am anyway). The show went alright (I'd give it a B+), but by this point we were extremely tired and ready to head back home (ideally for a couple of days, then back on the road, but 'tis not to be). I slept through most of the trip back home, so there's not much to report on that front. What I will say is that the entire day I was looking forward to that 2am Wendy's off exit 40, and when I get there, no burgers. Just "chicken product". Goddamnit.
A hungry stomach knows no loyalty, though, so I settled for a chicken sandwich before passing out in the car again. The rest is a blur. It was cold and the sky was a navy blue. Tuned in to FNX for a bit of familiarity. Unloaded our gear at the space. Got back to our apartment around 6am. Talked to Beca and Martin, who were crashing at our place, and compressed 2 weeks into 10 minutes of conversation. Where does the time go...
Bed.
Zzzzz.
Somewhere between consciousness and the dreamworld, it occurred to me that I'm pretty goddamned lucky to be able to do this at all. Much like the last time, I can't wait to start this all over again.
Cheers,
Henry
XV
Farewell to haiku
I've had much fun writing these
Out of ideas
 | Currently listening: Dig Out Your Soul By Oasis Release date: 2008-10-07 |
Labels: tourdiary
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