Somewhere in Virginia
Getting into New York was a nerve-racking endeavor to say the least. First of all, Monica had to pick up Tetsuro at the airport in Philly for Nick and Holly's wedding. In addition to that, Sonia and Eric expected to be picked up in Brooklyn without having clearly communicating their wishes for a ride until that afternoon.
We got lost somewhere on the New Jersey turnpike and finally made it to the Holland tunnel after about a half-hour of confusion. New York traffic was the gangbang I expected for the most part, and Monica was on the verge of losing her shit by the time we got to Evan's apartment. There was very limited time in which to pick up her passengers and drive the 2 hours back to the Philly airport. She'd been driving for 12 hours already and was on the verge of turning the van into a massacre-mobile.
As we drove into town, there was a huge gaggle of very stylishly dressed men dancing to Michael Jackson on a street corner. This was a kind of foreshadowing, as I heard more Michael Jackson in Williamsburg than I even care to think about at this time. It was a 24-hour thudding pulse exuding from storefronts and restaurants, a tangible hum that ceased to even be noticeable after a couple of days.
Monica and Jack finally left Hammy and I at Evan's place, where we drank some brews until we decided to visit his artist friends at their warehouse space. We ended up watching some godawful local music spotlight and caught wind of the devastating wave of Euro-disco wannabe hipsters that are destroying many of the legitimately cool things about Brooklyn. The only decent video we saw was a Crystal Antlers one. It took me a second, but I was like, "Hey! I played my second show ever with those guys! They were hella nice!"
We bullshitted and drank until 6 in the morning, when we finally decided to call it a night. The sun had risen and we were all fucking beat. We walked back to Evan's place and I rapidly crashed out on the massively uncomfortable vinyl Polish couch.
I woke up covered in sweat around 11 am. Hammy went to go hang out with Sonia, who didn't even end up getting a ride with Monica that night after all of her consternation at the idea that she may have to take the train. It made no sense.
Evan and I got a couple of slices of pizza as big as our heads and went to go visit a friend of his and collect some debts. His friend was the textbook neurotic Jew but with a film degree, a penchant for selling pot and a tendency to snort heroin. It takes all types, eh?
This motherfucker was priceless, though. His manic hysteria manifests itself as a non-stop hilarious rambling narrative about everything and everyone around him. He kept kissing Evan's face and calling him Elmer and telling him he wanted to peel his diapers off. He got especially rowdy when Landon came over.
Soon afterward we took our leave with Evan's pay-back in tow. Landon made it a point to drive past this block of Hassidic-owned housing projects with these weird cages on all of the windows. Even the upper storeys had them. It was truly bizarre. They regaled me with tales of landlords keeping the buildings conspicuously beneath regulations and renting them out for high prices to rich kids that don't know any better. I was told one story wherein the landlord broke a hole through the wall to share the neighboring loft's fire escape and therefore pass a fire marshal inspection through bribery.
We then returned to the apartment and vegetated for a while. Landon took his leave and we went out to run more "errands". Evan left me at the park while he went to meet some people, and I caught up on my Ken Kesey until the sky started pissing all over the place. On my way to take shelter under an awning I found Evan. We sought refuge under a tree until it looked like it was letting up and saw a skateboarder get hit by a car on the way back to his place.
Well, he was actually a crusty metalhead riding a longboard. He was skating down the street when a drunk guy in a Porsche (!) swerved to fuck with him but ended up fishtailing on the wet pavement, hitting the skater's legs and skidding out of control into a construction wall on the side of the road. The car started smoking and a crowd started to gather. The skater was obviously riding out an intense adrenalin rush, charging at the car and trying to open the doors. At one point he picked up his board and smashed it into the hood seemingly as hard as he could. He kept doing this "swing batter-batter" motion with the board and acting like he was going to smash the windows and beat the guy's ass, but luckily it didn't come down to that.
It took about 15 minutes for the police and paramedics to finally arrive while the skater guy chilled out and sat down on a curb in astonishment. Hell, at least Porsche dude presumably had enough money to cover the skater's medical expenses and then some.
After that debacle came to its conclusion, we needed to run and grab Evan's keyboard amp from a friend (an errand that was all for naught because it wouldn't fit in the van). We caught a free shuttle, which was extremely crowded since funding cuts shut down several subway stations. We met up with Evan't pal Amanda at a slightly foo-foo Bushwick gastropub. Our beers were paid for by her friend Rob and the bartender did shots with us and comped us Maker's Mark.
I've heard a lot of people say that New Yorkers are assholes, but I experienced more generous motherfuckers there than in any other city. F'realz.
After we finished our drinks, Rob invited us back to his friend's (seemingly very expensive) place for a small get-together. We hung out on the porch for a couple of hours and got a little side-tracked from the amp mission, but eventually ended up grabbing it from Amanda's roommate and taking our leave. Evan carried the 100-lb. beast a few blocks to the shuttle, the subway and his apartment. That shit was mad heavy.
We drank some more beers (notice a recurring theme?) and wine that his roommate gave us. We chilled and listened to music until Landon called from a weird bar in Chinatown requesting our presence. I think he was strollin' for some colon, as it seems he exclusively fucks Asian girls.
We finished our drinks and got on the L train, where I promptly had my most authentic New York experience by unwittingly stepping in a pile of barf on the subway. What is it with me being a fucking magnet for filth and feculence?
At any rate, Landon got us nice and shitfaced on Jameson shots and a cornucopia of other stupefying concoctions. I think I ended up barfing at one point, or at least coming really close for lack of eating since the pizza. The bar had an odd mix of patrons. the most foreign to me were the young Chinese kids with their skateboards that kept nonchalantly calling one another "nigga" without a second thought. Needless to say, that shit would NOT fly in my neighborhood.
There was shitty blaring dance music that blocked out many aborted attmepts at conversation, making cigarette breaks outside a welcome reprieve from the tremendous cacophony of mediocrity. After eating some pub grub, we were pretty maxed out. We kept drinking until 5 am. New York bars never seemed to really close at their "last call" time of 4 am. Every bar I went to stayed open long after legal time and allowed smoking inside afterward as well. It was great.
After Landon drunkenly bitched out a couple of cabbies that refused to take us over the Williamsburg bridge, we finally made our way back to Evan's place. We crashed immediately upon arrival once again. I only slept a few hours and once again awoke to stifling heat, which was the pattern of my New York experience.
Yesterday was pretty uneventful until we played in the evening. We did a little grocery shopping, omelet eating and general preparation/bullshitting.
We got to Trash Bar around 7:45 and there was some sort of weird "church service" going on when we got there. Your guess is as good as mine. What the fuck kind of church rents out a divey punk bar for their church service?
After a couple of technical difficulties with the PA, Toucher's set went off pretty much without a hitch. A lot of his friends came to see him play, and luckily stayed for our set as well. It was hella packed for a Sunday night!
By the time we went on it didn't really seem like there were a whole lot of people there to see us, but the longer we played the more people packed in to watch. It was some mad clown car action. The audience was really energetic and made the show tons of fun. After we played there was a surprise visit from the newlyweds whose wedding Jack, Monica, Tetsuro, Sonia, Hammy and Eric attended. By some inconceivable stroke of coincidence, Jack happened to run into his cousin (whom he didn't even know lived in New York!) earlier in the day whilst going on a food pilgrimage. She and her husband came and provided Jack and Monica with a place to stay.
Once again we stayed and bullshitted at the bar way too late into the night. We had to leave for Asheville at 6 in the morning, but that didn't keep our stupid asses from staying up and smoking joints at Evan's apartment. I stayed up until about 5, and apparently told Evan I was going to punch him in the face when he tried to wake me. I'm too tired to continue from sleeping so erratically in the loft. We'll see what happens in the next town.
We got lost somewhere on the New Jersey turnpike and finally made it to the Holland tunnel after about a half-hour of confusion. New York traffic was the gangbang I expected for the most part, and Monica was on the verge of losing her shit by the time we got to Evan's apartment. There was very limited time in which to pick up her passengers and drive the 2 hours back to the Philly airport. She'd been driving for 12 hours already and was on the verge of turning the van into a massacre-mobile.
As we drove into town, there was a huge gaggle of very stylishly dressed men dancing to Michael Jackson on a street corner. This was a kind of foreshadowing, as I heard more Michael Jackson in Williamsburg than I even care to think about at this time. It was a 24-hour thudding pulse exuding from storefronts and restaurants, a tangible hum that ceased to even be noticeable after a couple of days.
Monica and Jack finally left Hammy and I at Evan's place, where we drank some brews until we decided to visit his artist friends at their warehouse space. We ended up watching some godawful local music spotlight and caught wind of the devastating wave of Euro-disco wannabe hipsters that are destroying many of the legitimately cool things about Brooklyn. The only decent video we saw was a Crystal Antlers one. It took me a second, but I was like, "Hey! I played my second show ever with those guys! They were hella nice!"
We bullshitted and drank until 6 in the morning, when we finally decided to call it a night. The sun had risen and we were all fucking beat. We walked back to Evan's place and I rapidly crashed out on the massively uncomfortable vinyl Polish couch.
I woke up covered in sweat around 11 am. Hammy went to go hang out with Sonia, who didn't even end up getting a ride with Monica that night after all of her consternation at the idea that she may have to take the train. It made no sense.
Evan and I got a couple of slices of pizza as big as our heads and went to go visit a friend of his and collect some debts. His friend was the textbook neurotic Jew but with a film degree, a penchant for selling pot and a tendency to snort heroin. It takes all types, eh?
This motherfucker was priceless, though. His manic hysteria manifests itself as a non-stop hilarious rambling narrative about everything and everyone around him. He kept kissing Evan's face and calling him Elmer and telling him he wanted to peel his diapers off. He got especially rowdy when Landon came over.
Soon afterward we took our leave with Evan's pay-back in tow. Landon made it a point to drive past this block of Hassidic-owned housing projects with these weird cages on all of the windows. Even the upper storeys had them. It was truly bizarre. They regaled me with tales of landlords keeping the buildings conspicuously beneath regulations and renting them out for high prices to rich kids that don't know any better. I was told one story wherein the landlord broke a hole through the wall to share the neighboring loft's fire escape and therefore pass a fire marshal inspection through bribery.
We then returned to the apartment and vegetated for a while. Landon took his leave and we went out to run more "errands". Evan left me at the park while he went to meet some people, and I caught up on my Ken Kesey until the sky started pissing all over the place. On my way to take shelter under an awning I found Evan. We sought refuge under a tree until it looked like it was letting up and saw a skateboarder get hit by a car on the way back to his place.
Well, he was actually a crusty metalhead riding a longboard. He was skating down the street when a drunk guy in a Porsche (!) swerved to fuck with him but ended up fishtailing on the wet pavement, hitting the skater's legs and skidding out of control into a construction wall on the side of the road. The car started smoking and a crowd started to gather. The skater was obviously riding out an intense adrenalin rush, charging at the car and trying to open the doors. At one point he picked up his board and smashed it into the hood seemingly as hard as he could. He kept doing this "swing batter-batter" motion with the board and acting like he was going to smash the windows and beat the guy's ass, but luckily it didn't come down to that.
It took about 15 minutes for the police and paramedics to finally arrive while the skater guy chilled out and sat down on a curb in astonishment. Hell, at least Porsche dude presumably had enough money to cover the skater's medical expenses and then some.
After that debacle came to its conclusion, we needed to run and grab Evan's keyboard amp from a friend (an errand that was all for naught because it wouldn't fit in the van). We caught a free shuttle, which was extremely crowded since funding cuts shut down several subway stations. We met up with Evan't pal Amanda at a slightly foo-foo Bushwick gastropub. Our beers were paid for by her friend Rob and the bartender did shots with us and comped us Maker's Mark.
I've heard a lot of people say that New Yorkers are assholes, but I experienced more generous motherfuckers there than in any other city. F'realz.
After we finished our drinks, Rob invited us back to his friend's (seemingly very expensive) place for a small get-together. We hung out on the porch for a couple of hours and got a little side-tracked from the amp mission, but eventually ended up grabbing it from Amanda's roommate and taking our leave. Evan carried the 100-lb. beast a few blocks to the shuttle, the subway and his apartment. That shit was mad heavy.
We drank some more beers (notice a recurring theme?) and wine that his roommate gave us. We chilled and listened to music until Landon called from a weird bar in Chinatown requesting our presence. I think he was strollin' for some colon, as it seems he exclusively fucks Asian girls.
We finished our drinks and got on the L train, where I promptly had my most authentic New York experience by unwittingly stepping in a pile of barf on the subway. What is it with me being a fucking magnet for filth and feculence?
At any rate, Landon got us nice and shitfaced on Jameson shots and a cornucopia of other stupefying concoctions. I think I ended up barfing at one point, or at least coming really close for lack of eating since the pizza. The bar had an odd mix of patrons. the most foreign to me were the young Chinese kids with their skateboards that kept nonchalantly calling one another "nigga" without a second thought. Needless to say, that shit would NOT fly in my neighborhood.
There was shitty blaring dance music that blocked out many aborted attmepts at conversation, making cigarette breaks outside a welcome reprieve from the tremendous cacophony of mediocrity. After eating some pub grub, we were pretty maxed out. We kept drinking until 5 am. New York bars never seemed to really close at their "last call" time of 4 am. Every bar I went to stayed open long after legal time and allowed smoking inside afterward as well. It was great.
After Landon drunkenly bitched out a couple of cabbies that refused to take us over the Williamsburg bridge, we finally made our way back to Evan's place. We crashed immediately upon arrival once again. I only slept a few hours and once again awoke to stifling heat, which was the pattern of my New York experience.
Yesterday was pretty uneventful until we played in the evening. We did a little grocery shopping, omelet eating and general preparation/bullshitting.
We got to Trash Bar around 7:45 and there was some sort of weird "church service" going on when we got there. Your guess is as good as mine. What the fuck kind of church rents out a divey punk bar for their church service?
After a couple of technical difficulties with the PA, Toucher's set went off pretty much without a hitch. A lot of his friends came to see him play, and luckily stayed for our set as well. It was hella packed for a Sunday night!
By the time we went on it didn't really seem like there were a whole lot of people there to see us, but the longer we played the more people packed in to watch. It was some mad clown car action. The audience was really energetic and made the show tons of fun. After we played there was a surprise visit from the newlyweds whose wedding Jack, Monica, Tetsuro, Sonia, Hammy and Eric attended. By some inconceivable stroke of coincidence, Jack happened to run into his cousin (whom he didn't even know lived in New York!) earlier in the day whilst going on a food pilgrimage. She and her husband came and provided Jack and Monica with a place to stay.
Once again we stayed and bullshitted at the bar way too late into the night. We had to leave for Asheville at 6 in the morning, but that didn't keep our stupid asses from staying up and smoking joints at Evan's apartment. I stayed up until about 5, and apparently told Evan I was going to punch him in the face when he tried to wake me. I'm too tired to continue from sleeping so erratically in the loft. We'll see what happens in the next town.