Peeled out of bed before any alarms, sun peeking in through curtains, I turn and check the talk rock; the charger crapped out overnight. Strange since it worked the entire night before, and the entire week before that, and the week before that. This will not deter me from looking at instagram 1800 times before showering. “Lets look at the wikipedia entry for ‘Green Acres.’” Dumb.
Wash, brush, but forget to put on deodorant, we head into town for some breakfast. Said breakfast is in shambles. Everything is way too hot. Mike burns his hand on the coffee, all coffees and creamers are 86’d before they can be filled, bathroom is out of commission. Kid behind the counter looks like he just hit Normandy on his first detail. Can’t win em all. I love breakfast, but on tour it can be a gamble.
Jarrett brought his skateboard out with him on this tour. It’s a new development, and it makes him happy. Marissa and I do voice our concerns about injuries, but he’s no dummy. One of the many great things about JD—he demonstrates a beautiful balance between responsibility and abandon. Here though, it’s mostly push/push/coast into a low key trick. In the aughts, there was a Chicago crew called “Push Push Coast” of relatively washed jazzy types that would hit the park and do what their name implies. Midwest is great for that—all flat lands, with few opportunities for heavy bombing. I got some crumb news from the crew back in Chicago. Friendships that have been decades old are being torn to shreds, people exhibiting bad behavior, the like. On the one hand, I wish I could be there to either mediate or help my buds that are hurting. On the other, I’m relieved I took the jazzwagon west months ago because all signs are now pointing to it being the correct move.
Drive out is relatively uneventful. I’m back in the Nixon book. I took months off it, as I left it in the whip between tours, but I knew where I left off. I am determined to finish this book. I brought a second book that my boo gave me—“Paul Takes The Form Of The Mortal Girl’— that is all queer emotional/jerk off material, but I’m trying to be the smarty pants and get this sophisticated political thing down first. Spirits are good, everyone felt good about the set last night; solid way to knock out night one. Somewhere along the road we get a text from our buds in Rivers Edge—they too are on the road and had a fall out with a gig in Columbus—easy peasy, they’re gonna kick the night off. It’ll be good to see them all over again.
I have some Ohio friends that really aren’t wild about Columbus but I’ve never had a bad time there. You got that one spot with the massive tree stump in the middle of the bar, then there’s Used Kids (one of the best shops in the midwest) like…what’s the beef chief? I’ve never been to Ace of Cups, but I’ve had a handful of friends play there so definitely interested in the room. Roll up, and there’s a BBQ food truck burnin some serious wood…smells dope, but i won’t partake tonight. The meal for the night is some asian fusion that will remain nameless as it was terrible. Just awful. Awful and overpriced, my favorite kind of food. Shouts to my babe SB though whom came through with the tight palmful of boom trees to make my meal somewhat worthwhile. Got a nice moment with fans Molly and Morgan. Super photographer Honey DuPain came through too, looking stunning in some rich color combination. All great people.
Rivers Edge blasted through some heavy anthemic punk. Just great. Rich history within that band and they’re the sweetest sweeties in the world. Trachache are from Columbus and they came through with something that felt like if Jefferson Airplane was ripping through Kyuss songs. Loud but hooky rock action from some women that have seen some shit. I dunno it was super heartwarming to seem some ladies just a smidge higher than my age bracket coming through like “left the husband at home tonight…got a gig.” Singer’s guitar strap came undone, and like…NO ONE at the venue came through to help her? Marissa ran down from the merch island to the stage to help a sister out. Closed the set out with “Reject All American” cleverly working in a sub on Bart O’Kavanaugh. Nice.
Kitten Forever followed it up with their intense groove action. After a small hurdle with a tech problem, they banged out their non-stop groove machine. It’s super dope seeing people that have never seen this band before lose their marbles over what their doing. I just look over at Cheyenne like “hope you’re ready to get this money, slugger.” Merch scene is heavy tonight, which—along with the sudden but brief fear I had over losing keys to the whip (didn’t lose them…just had em in a different pocket)—definitely killed my boom blur. It’s okay; being boomed to the neck while having to make change is stressful as hell. Plus I’m solo so it’s not like I can look at a friend all “RIIIIIGHT?!” But it does inspire me to move and sway through a packed crowd with the ease and grace of Ginger Rogers. Screamales waste no time—it’s a long night, and four bands is journey. They blast off with a serious “Burning Car” into “Black Moon” into “It all Means Nothing.” Fan requested “Triumph” which was obliged, but then someone in the crowd yelled “Play ‘Triumph!’” You just walked in, chief?? Stretched it out during “Rose Mountain,” and fit a little “Broken Neck” in there. “Lights Out” was exactly that: Lights out, that’s a wrap. Absolutely melting set as the photo provided shows.
The whip looks ransacked. Mike and I were tearing through boxes doing re-stocks. Lengthy load out, but it’s okay. Nuff time for a tequila soda and a smoke before I slip out of the jumper. We drive through the night, into the woods jamming “Safari” and “Mountain Battles” by The Breeders until we get to our bud Ryan’s house. Ryan is a stone cold chiller whom owns a beautiful farmhouse outside of Columbus. Walk in, there’s a cold one waiting for me and “Sunset Glow” by “Julie Tippetts on the hi-fi. I think cute boys like this are what you’d call “A provider.” Marissa and Jarrett crashed out in a room with a very cute old dog named Susan, while Mike and i crashed out in bedroom with a creaky frame and open windows. Its absolutely peaceful and serene in these dark woods, providing ample rest before another long haul.