On the road again, mang oh mang. Sitting on a wooden folding chair at Royal Oaks in Youngstown, OH, “Smells Like Teen Spirit” on the juke box. It feels like I’ve been here every night for the last four months. One day into this leg of the tour and I’m already hideously lonely.
Yesterday was a drain. Woke up exhausted with a shitload of stuff to do before I could leave. My eyes hurt and were really red; just what I need, to come down with another one of my trademark weird diseases on the first day of a month long leg. Allie, as usual, was a really good sport about how neurotic I was getting packed and trying to get the last things done. It was so fucking depressing leaving her apartment, not just because we’ve hardly left it in the last month, but also because it’s been ‘our place.’ I mean, she’s always lived in the same apartment and I’ve always liked it, but I only ever stayed there for a week at most (over 9/11) and I always had my own apartment to get back to. Living together every day for a month was so great, like a little honeymoon. It was actually tougher to leave this time than it was in September when I set out for Nashville. I guess we know how crappy it is to be apart now. We both managed to keep it together while saying goodbye, though I was really sad until I thought about the look on her face when she found my stash of porno mags that I hid under her pillow…
Got on the road only half an hour late, by ‘on the road’ I mean stuck in traffic waiting to get into the Holland Tunnel. It took me six and a half hours to get to Galaxy Hut, so only two and a half hours more than Mapquest said. I was congested so I took some Dayquil and then I didn’t have a chance to eat, so I was feeling pretty crappy and out of it when I got there. I helped Benjy Ferree set up his shit and then ate a chicken sandwich w/ fries while he tuned up and talked to me. He’s pretty great, I’m really envious of his voice and his songwriting and his arrangements. He knocked out a great set and then, as soon as he finished, about half the room got up to split. Which sucked because none of my people had made it out. I set up and launched into it as soon as I could, but never really felt good. After, I forced myself to get up and try and get names on the mailing list. One girl, when I asked her to sign the list, said “Oh no, we’re not going to give you another victim!”, not kidding at all. Her friend grabbed my mailing list (the new notebook that I bought specifically as a mailing list, with the snazzy blue cover that I splurged on, 2.99 instead of 2.49) and started scribbling in it. I grabbed it back from her and she struggled for a second. Hey, thanks a fucking lot, it’s not a credit card I’m asking you to sign up for. If you don’t like what I’m doing, fine, don’t fucking sign it. And I wish you well, you know, I hope all your creative endeavors (like getting rainbow Post-its for everyone at your customer service job instead of those light yellow ones) go really, really well.
(Okay, now they’re playing Modest Mouse, you know, Royal Oaks ain’t all bad)
But the night pretty much soared from there. Benjy and his excellent girlfriend Laura (she drives a Previa, too!) brought me back to her place to crash. It was totally perfect, a little nondescript one bedroom into a sleepy little apartment building that was totally fucking trashed, a huge stack of books and DVDs next to the TV sitting on a cardboard box, dirty plates and cups on the floor. Benjy hooked me up with a big glass of bourbon and a tiny little guitar and a great mattress on the floor. We talked for a long time and then I fell asleep while he watched the Ken Burns Civil War DVD. I slept well except for one creepy nightmare which I can’t remember now and waking up at one point to squish a tiny bug crawling on my stomach, but even that wasn’t too bad. And when I woke up in the morning, my pink eye was gone. Ha!
Left around two and drove pretty much straight to Youngstown. The van drove great, as usual, and I quickly got back that kink in my neck/back that I had the whole last trip out to NY from CO. Well, fuck, what can you do. For a lot of the day, I thought about the High Strung and how much I’m looking forward to spending time with them again. I swear, this time it won’t go undocumented.
In many respects, I’m glad to bring my time in NY to a close. (Ha ha, the Strokes are playing now, perfectly timed for a distopic rant against NYC). My show at N6 was a big disappointment, at least to me. I mean, there was a core of people there that made me feel really good; without naming names, let’s just say a lot of friends that have weathered the good and the bad with me. But there were some conspicuous absences as well, not just old friends who are into being pals with me (I think) and are into me helping them (I know) but could give a shit about what I’m doing, but also just about anyone and everyone I know from booking them at Luxx. These are the same people who give me mad ups every time I see/talk to them, but have so far failed to come and see a single show of mine. Which makes me seem like an idiot who got played because of my position of some power in the NY rock scene, where folks sucked up to me because they thought I could help them and I thought they actually liked me. But I don’t feel like a sucker, because the bands who I helped or tried to help, I actually believed in. Given that time back, I would act the same way.
Posted by Mishka at January 20, 2004 05:13 PM