Burbank Italian pizza place called Northend Pizzeria. Northend is apparently one word out here, hey man, whatever, it's cool.
----------------
Now playing: Harvey Milk - I've Got a Love
via FoxyTunes
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Bostin Mass is the Rippinist Town
Burbank Italian pizza place called Northend Pizzeria. Northend is apparently one word out here, hey man, whatever, it's cool.
----------------
Now playing: Harvey Milk - I've Got a Love
via FoxyTunes
Monday, August 17, 2009
Roscoe's
Tonight we hit up Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles off of Sunset and it was fucking d-lish-iss. A little confusion ordering had my friend Noel get something she didn't think she ordered, but we still ate just about everything on our plates. Fried chicken, fresh home made french fries, mac and cheese, waffles. Sounds like a weird combo, but it was great. The chicken and waffles and syrup work together. The chicken was tasty, fried perfectly, not spicy or extra crunchy or anything like that, home cooking style fried chicken, the way it should be eaten. I can't wait to go back and try some of the other things on the menu.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Night out
Last night I made it out to my first show out here in Los Angeles as a resident. I've seen shows here and there as a visitor. The club was called Spaceland in the Silver Lake are of Los Angeles. It's right near Dodger Stadium. The Dodgers were out of town, so it was a quick 30 minute drive over there. I'm still getting used to the highways here; even though I've driven them many times it's still a shockingly huge difference than they are back east. Seems like everyone goes about 75 mph, habitually switching lanes back and forth for no particular reason. It takes a little getting used to, but I think the Massachusetts experience has hardened me into having just a big of a "fuck you I'm from Boston" attitude on the road. That mixed with respect for the rules here as some of them people actually follow, like my favorite: people don't cut you off turning left at red lights, they wait until everyone going forward is past. Even the most obnoxious looking douche in the BMW will wait their turn. A far cry from Massachusetts where every dickhead in a Patriots jacket can't wait the four or five seconds to turn and has to disrupt the flow of traffic. So there are good and bad things about driving here. Driving home was also a breeze, I didn't even make it through to the end of Torche's Meanderthal album which is a brief thirty-six minutes.
I got to the club far too early, and parking was non-existent, until I noticed a valet parking guy for the club which was a pretty awesome little perk. The club was pretty cool, small, maybe comparable to TT the Bears. There was a smoking area which was cool, if you're a smoker (!). Going to club shows by myself in Boston was never a big deal, and I go to huge concerts by myself all the time, but going to a club one seemed a little more daunting. There was nobody there when I walked in, and at the end of the night there were maybe thirty people there.
The first band were billed as a "disco-punk" band and apparently ex-members of something else, who knows. I originally cringed at this description, but they turned out to have a cool little Gang of Four vibe going. A guitar player, a drummer with a laptop that played beats and some noise and then an instrumentless singer. They were easily the best of the three openers. They played a brief 15 minute set. I would definitely go see them again.
The second band, Protect Me didn't really do it for me. A two piece (bass and drums) noisy mess that sounded like they may have done all their homework and practiced but hadn't mastered their instruments and how to make them sound good. The ideas were there, but execution was "meh". I think they were underage, as they looked like they were both about sixteen.
Next up were another two piece band (what the fuck is with this trend? What happened to the good old days of the Allman Brothers, Lynyrd Skynyrd and Earth, Wind and Fire where there were like sixteen people on stage!) from Brooklyn who were traveling with headliners Screaming Females called Shellshag. They didn't really do anything for me either: a guy playing a Stratocaster and a woman playing drums standing up with bells all over her. People seemed to dig them and they had plenty of energy and a cool little thing going, but in the end when they said they were from Brooklyn I thought to myself "no shit, no wonder that was not enjoyable". Only good band to ever come out of Brooklyn was Biohazard. Ha, take that weird hipster two piece band!
I saw Screaming Females a while back in Boston with Throwing Muses, and frankly they blew TM off the stage. What initially sounded like just another indie rock band with a girl screaming turned out to be a different beast all together. Elements of funk and heavy metal but not funkmetal and straight up rock, and even a couple moments that (most likely unintentionally) sounded like Rudimentary Peni to these ears.
Your initial thoughts when you first see this band are the make up of the band, a really tall bass player, and a really short female guitar player. Maybe 5'2"? Last night she wore a long Victorian looking dress, has short hair and the guitar is almost as big as her. She's not traditionally pretty, but I easily developed a crush on her after the first time I saw them and I went and found videos online. If anything though, the crush was more on her stage presence and her guitar playing. It would be easy to fall into the old "wow she is great...for a girl", but it's beyond that. She smokes most male guitar players I have seen (at least in club settings). Listening to them you'll initially think they're just a really tight indie rock band with a chick singer and then all of a sudden, BOOM she'll play a fill or solo that drops your jaw. There was a guy in the front row who literally had his mouth open the whole time last night. When I first saw them it was in a packed club from the back so I was pretty excited to be able to be right at the foot of the stage for last night. Her vocals go back and forth from Bikini Kill/Sleater-Kinney style to guttural screams, all the while playing an intricate lead pattern on the guitar, not just strummed chords. Last night they played for maybe 40 minutes and it was great. I felt like I was seeing something special because of the size of the crowd and just how well the band present themselves. From the way she dressed and carries herself on stage to the tightness of the rhythm section they are the real deal. They apparently played some shows with Jack White's band recently and I'm sure the crowd loved them. Here's hoping they go on to bigger things than last night. LA must have been busy doing something else last night as it was a shame they played to such a small crowd.
I captured some video of the show on my iPhone. The sound is horrible but...the picture is good.
I got to the club far too early, and parking was non-existent, until I noticed a valet parking guy for the club which was a pretty awesome little perk. The club was pretty cool, small, maybe comparable to TT the Bears. There was a smoking area which was cool, if you're a smoker (!). Going to club shows by myself in Boston was never a big deal, and I go to huge concerts by myself all the time, but going to a club one seemed a little more daunting. There was nobody there when I walked in, and at the end of the night there were maybe thirty people there.
The first band were billed as a "disco-punk" band and apparently ex-members of something else, who knows. I originally cringed at this description, but they turned out to have a cool little Gang of Four vibe going. A guitar player, a drummer with a laptop that played beats and some noise and then an instrumentless singer. They were easily the best of the three openers. They played a brief 15 minute set. I would definitely go see them again.
The second band, Protect Me didn't really do it for me. A two piece (bass and drums) noisy mess that sounded like they may have done all their homework and practiced but hadn't mastered their instruments and how to make them sound good. The ideas were there, but execution was "meh". I think they were underage, as they looked like they were both about sixteen.
Next up were another two piece band (what the fuck is with this trend? What happened to the good old days of the Allman Brothers, Lynyrd Skynyrd and Earth, Wind and Fire where there were like sixteen people on stage!) from Brooklyn who were traveling with headliners Screaming Females called Shellshag. They didn't really do anything for me either: a guy playing a Stratocaster and a woman playing drums standing up with bells all over her. People seemed to dig them and they had plenty of energy and a cool little thing going, but in the end when they said they were from Brooklyn I thought to myself "no shit, no wonder that was not enjoyable". Only good band to ever come out of Brooklyn was Biohazard. Ha, take that weird hipster two piece band!
I saw Screaming Females a while back in Boston with Throwing Muses, and frankly they blew TM off the stage. What initially sounded like just another indie rock band with a girl screaming turned out to be a different beast all together. Elements of funk and heavy metal but not funkmetal and straight up rock, and even a couple moments that (most likely unintentionally) sounded like Rudimentary Peni to these ears.
Your initial thoughts when you first see this band are the make up of the band, a really tall bass player, and a really short female guitar player. Maybe 5'2"? Last night she wore a long Victorian looking dress, has short hair and the guitar is almost as big as her. She's not traditionally pretty, but I easily developed a crush on her after the first time I saw them and I went and found videos online. If anything though, the crush was more on her stage presence and her guitar playing. It would be easy to fall into the old "wow she is great...for a girl", but it's beyond that. She smokes most male guitar players I have seen (at least in club settings). Listening to them you'll initially think they're just a really tight indie rock band with a chick singer and then all of a sudden, BOOM she'll play a fill or solo that drops your jaw. There was a guy in the front row who literally had his mouth open the whole time last night. When I first saw them it was in a packed club from the back so I was pretty excited to be able to be right at the foot of the stage for last night. Her vocals go back and forth from Bikini Kill/Sleater-Kinney style to guttural screams, all the while playing an intricate lead pattern on the guitar, not just strummed chords. Last night they played for maybe 40 minutes and it was great. I felt like I was seeing something special because of the size of the crowd and just how well the band present themselves. From the way she dressed and carries herself on stage to the tightness of the rhythm section they are the real deal. They apparently played some shows with Jack White's band recently and I'm sure the crowd loved them. Here's hoping they go on to bigger things than last night. LA must have been busy doing something else last night as it was a shame they played to such a small crowd.
I captured some video of the show on my iPhone. The sound is horrible but...the picture is good.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Estimated Prophet
I don't think I would ever drive across the country again. If I did it would have to be either with someone I was very close with who shared some of the driving duties, or if I was getting paid to do it.
I'm a stickler for keeping stats on things. Here are some numbers:
I drove 3,268 miles. From my driveway in Massachusetts to where I am in southern California now. For the first few days part, the drives got progressively longer:
Day 1: 206 miles (Woburn, MA to Amsterdam, NY)
Day 2: 446 miles (Amsterdam, NY to Cleveland, OH)
Day 3: 500 miles (Cleveland OH to Terra Haute, IN)
Day 4: 535 miles (Terra Haute, IN to Salina, KS)
Day 5: 704 miles (Salina, KS to Fruita, CO)
Day 6: 514 miles (Fruita, CO to Las Vegas, NV)
Day 7: 363 miles (Las Vegas, NV to Granada Hills, CA)
The best drive was probably day 6 which was from Fruita, CO to Las Vegas. That is where I hit Utah which was beautiful and obviously the Colorado trip through the mountains was intense, but it was also the tail end of day 6 which started in Kansas and ended in Fruita, CO.
I listened to 540 different songs, some of them multiple times.
I smoked 0 cigarettes.
I smoked 5 joints.
I killed “alot” of bugs
I don’t remember where I left off on my last entry, I think it was the night before Day 5. Or who knows, it doesn’t matter. I started getting to a point where being by myself was fun and all but I just wanted the trip to end. So I took the long ride from Salinas, Kansas to Fruita, Colorado, which is just outside of Grand Junction. The first half of the ride was completely flat. I got to Denver, ate dinner and decided to drive a little bit through the mountains, and maybe stop after an hour or so. My car barely made it up and down in those altitudes. After a while it drove fine but I was getting nervous and decided to lay of any marijuana I had for the night as it was kind of a treacherous drive; winding up and down 7% grade roads, snaking through narrow canyons, and once the sun went down and I realized I had been driving for close to 9 hours (or at least “out”), and wanted to push myself for a few more hours, or until I got real close to Grand Junction. I thankfully never grew tired on this part of the day, as I did earlier during the flat parts of Kansas and the first couple hours in Colorado.
I check into my hotel, and as was identifying me on the whole trip, my Red Sox hat and Massachusetts license, the guy at the counter asked where I was coming from or going. I told him I was moving from Boston to Los Angeles. He replies, “ah, from a cool city to a crappy city”. I ignored this useless troll working at the hotel desk in a place called fucking Fruita, Colorado and made my way down to my handicapped room.
Aside from people like this guy, and various gas station employees, etc, I didn’t really meet a single person. I didn’t need to. I generally don’t care much about what people’s opinions are and that kind of thing. As much as I come of as cynical from time to time about people, in the long run I don’t really care. After spending all this time in the middle of the country though these “salt of the earth”, “real Americans” just grew tired to me. Their accents echoing in my head when I fell asleep at night. They make eye contact with you and generally always say hello or whatever which is a lot different than on the coasts where everyone just ignores you. But you get this sense that under their breath they are like “Look at this faggot”, or “This guy from up north, yada yada yada”. Then you start getting deeper into like Missouri, which to me is a truly frightening mix of religious/gun zealots that probably have no idea what the word zealot means, and then just poor people who look at you like they want to stab you because you’re from a different place. As much as you feel welcomed at around places like this, there is that underlying racism that’s still there, and people who feel like it’s real important that they own a gun because there are bad people out there that are gonna get them. Zombies who watch too much television, or listen to politicians convincing them that terrorists are on their way here this very moment. These are the people that vote for people like George Bush twice in a row. He didn’t steal an election, there are just millions of these fucking people living in this country. Now they want you think they are truly concerned about health care when in reality they are frustrated crackers who probably got laid off, and when it gets down to it they are seriously concerned that the president is no longer a good old boy like them. He’s a black man. Can you imagine if the president we elected was as dark as say Wesley Snipes or Seal? He would have been assassinated on January 21st. People who literally think there is a guy in the sky who created the earth and when they die they are going to go to heaven and people like me are going to burn in hell for eternity. People who think prayer in school is an important issue. In other words, idiots. The lowest common denominator people you can think of. These are people I dealt with for four or five days.
Ending in Las Vegas was no better. A place that was so gross and disgusting, I just had to indulge myself in it a little by getting drunk, gambling and eating shitty food. If I were a lower man I probably would have ordered a girl from one of those cards they hand you out on the street advertising “$35 special!”, etc. I hadn’t been drunk since maybe 2000 or 2001, and didn’t get out of control drunk but enough that I started getting angry at what was around me. Gross men with the spiked hair, those long sleeve shirts with the big collars or Ed Hardy gear. Girls dressed like they were going to a cocktail party with the emphasis on the first four letters of that word. Sure I love a good slutty looking woman from time to time to walk by me, but this was a constant stream of sadness and hopelessness. At one point I walked by a nightclub inside the MGM Grand ,where I stayed and two guys were yelling at some girl to “get over here right now” in front of hundreds of people; like she was a dog or something. That’s when I made my way back to my room to hopefully sleep and get out as soon as I woke up.
The drive to Los Angeles was a bit tiring. I stopped at the Hoover Dam, which was like a ninety minute ordeal. It was worth seeing as the place is huge and I’m definitely glad I saw it even if I was only there for maybe thirty minutes. After that though, the drive through that desert was so hot. You would open the window and it would feel like you were sticking your hand in an oven. I arrived here a little after 6PM and that was that. The end, etc.
As much as I say i wouldn’t do the trip again, I’m sure I would. This was my second time doing it by myself, and with all of the other trips I’ve done by myself in the last 15 years or so I’ve easily logged at least 10,000 miles of being in a car alone for extended periods of time. This time it was a little different. I was leaving home, leaving all of my friends and family on an improvised trip to start an improvised life out here where I still don’t know what will happen. I wouldn’t have it any other way though. I had an amazing sendoff weekend with my friends and family between my band’s last show and the cookout with a small group of my closest friends the night before the show. Going from having all of those people around me weekly to not having them around me and just having them on the internet and phone is going to be hard, but I think I made the right decision. Even two days in I feel comfortable saying this.
Did I mention I hate being hot though?
Every song I listened to:
Hold On Loosely .38 Special
Caught up in You .38 Special
Night Of The Long Knives AC/DC
Have A Drink On Me AC/DC
Put The Finger On You AC/DC
Amoeba Adolescents
Lord Of The Thighs Aerosmith
Walk This Way Aerosmith
Won't Be Hanging Around Albert King
Rain When I Die Alice In Chains
H8 Red Anthrax
Lone Justice Anthrax
S.S.C./Stand Or Fall Anthrax
Blood Anthrax
Imitation Of Life Anthrax
Hired Gun Bad Brains
Secret 77 Bad Brains
My Daddy Rocks Me - Part II Bechet, Sidney
I'm Just Wild About Harry Bechet, Sidney
Feed The Tree Belly
Angel Belly
You're No Good Betty Everett
The Sign Of The Southern Cross Black Sabbath
Burnin' For You Blue Öyster Cult
Chase Brown, James
My Thang Brown, James
These Foolish Things Remind Me Of You Brown, James
"I Can't Stand It ""76"" Brown, James
Staples Buffalo Tom
Velvet Roof Buffalo Tom
Center Of The Universe Built To Spill
Else Built To Spill
Little Tiny Pieces Bullet LaVolta
I Don't See You Camper Van Beethoven
Where The Hell Is Bill? Camper Van Beethoven
Folly Camper Van Beethoven
I'll Be With You Tonight Cheap Trick
Dream Police Cheap Trick
Letter Bomb Circle Jerks
Roll It Over Clapton, Eric
Can't Find My Way Home Clapton, Eric
After Midnight Clapton, Eric
Key To The Highway Clapton, Eric
Let It Rain Clapton, Eric
Animal Farm Clutch
Texan Book Of The Dead Clutch
Big Fat Pig Clutch
Milk of Human Kindness Clutch
Big News I Clutch
Droid Clutch
Ta-De-Ah Cole, Nat 'King'
On the Sunny Side of the Street Cole, Nat 'King'
Sometimes I'm Happy Cole, Nat 'King'
Sweet Lorraine Cole, Nat 'King'
Caravan Cole, Nat 'King'
(Get Your Kicks On) Route 66 Cole, Nat 'King'
You're Looking At Me Cole, Nat 'King'
Just You, Just Me Cole, Nat 'King'
These Foolish Things Remind Me Of You Cole, Nat 'King'
The Lonely One Cole, Nat 'King'
The Song Is Ended (But the Melody Lingers On) Cole, Nat 'King'
Don't Let It Go To Your Head Cole, Nat 'King'
Population Control Company Flow
To The Lions Converge
Hellbound Converge
Last Light Converge
White Room Cream
Tales Of Brave Ulysses Cream
Seekers Of The Truth Cro-Mags
Signs Of The Times Cro-Mags
Hand on the Pump Cypress Hill
No Moms D.I.
Spiritual Law D.I.
Rock And Roll Part II D.I.
Johnny's Got A Problem D.I.
Reaganomics D.R.I.
Violent Pacification D.R.I.
Capatalist Suck D.R.I.
Thin Line Dag Nasty
Field Day Dag Nasty
What Now? Dag Nasty
Justification [Live] Dag Nasty
Dear Mrs. Touma Dag Nasty
Ah-Leu-Cha Davis, Miles
It Never Entered My Mind Davis, Miles
On Green Dolphin Street Davis, Miles
On Green Dolphin Street Davis, Miles
I Thought About You Davis, Miles
Ghetto Thang De La Soul
A Little Bit of Soap De La Soul
Black Night (Original Single Version) Deep Purple
Comin' Home Deep Purple
Maybe I'm a Leo Deep Purple
Highway Star Deep Purple
I Need Love Deep Purple
Little Wing Derek & The Dominos
Keep On Growing Derek & The Dominos
Bell Bottom Blues Derek & The Dominos
The May 4th Movement Starring Doodlebug Digable Planets
Escapism (Gettin' Free) Digable Planets
Rebirth Of Slick (Cool Like Dat) Digable Planets
I Want You To Know Dinosaur Jr.
Once Upon A Time In The West Dire Straits
Breakin My Stones Dirty Truckers
Long Train Runnin' Doobie Brothers
Still D.R.E. Dr. Dre
Some L.A. Niggaz Dr. Dre
"Nuthin' But A ""G"" Thang" Dr. Dre
Foosh Duke, George
Psychocomatic Dung Duke, George
Sweet Bite Duke, George
Solus Duke, George
North Beach Duke, George
Sometime Ago Duke, George
That's What She Said Duke, George
So There You Go Duke, George
Opening Duke, George
Rashid Duke, George
For Love (I Come Your Friend) Duke, George
Stuck Inside Of Mobile With the Memphis Blues Again Dylan, Bob
Pledging My Time Dylan, Bob
New Morning Dylan, Bob
Visions Of Johanna Dylan, Bob
It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding) Dylan, Bob
Queen Jane Approximately Dylan, Bob
Guitar Rhumba Earl Hooker
Bonin' In The Boneyard Fishbone
Ma And Pa Fishbone
Servitude Fishbone
Sunless Saturday Fishbone
If I Were A... I'd Fishbone
End The Reign Fishbone
Ghetto Soundwave Fishbone
Fight The Youth Fishbone
Another Generation Fishbone
Feels Like the First Time Foreigner
Baby I Owe You Something Good Funkadelic
Can't Stop The Strain Funkadelic
Sexy Ways Funkadelic
Alice In My Fantasies Funkadelic
Cats Under The Stars Garcia, Jerry
Stop That Train Garcia, Jerry
Think Garcia, Jerry
Liquid Swords Genius/GZA
Corcovado (Quiet Nights) Getz, Stan
Estimated Prophet Grateful Dead
Crazy Fingers Grateful Dead
Bird Song Grateful Dead
Brokedown Palace Grateful Dead
Touch Of Grey Grateful Dead
Truckin' Grateful Dead
Eyes of the World Grateful Dead
Loser Grateful Dead
Brown-Eyed Women Grateful Dead
It Must Have Been The Roses Grateful Dead
Me & Bobby McGee Grateful Dead
Been All Around This World Grateful Dead
China Cat Sunflower Grateful Dead
Bertha Grateful Dead
Let's Stay Together Green, Al
Knock 'Em Flyin' Guided By Voices
They're Not Witches Guided By Voices
Office Of Hearts Guided By Voices
Tractor Rape Chain Guided By Voices
I Am Produced Guided By Voices
Watch Me Jumpstart Guided By Voices
Little Whirl Guided By Voices
EXP Hendrix, Jimi
Little Wing Hendrix, Jimi
Freedom Hendrix, Jimi
You Got Me Floatin' Hendrix, Jimi
Bold As Love Hendrix, Jimi
Castles Made Of Sand Hendrix, Jimi
How can hypermiling save you gas? HowStuffWorks.com
Are stupid people happier? HowStuffWorks.com
Is it possible to brainwash someone? HowStuffWorks.com
Laughing At Oblivion Into Another
Sundial Intronaut
Back In The Village Iron Maiden
Gentle Time ISIS
Celestial (The Tower) ISIS
Struttin' With My Baby J. Geils Band
One Last Kiss J. Geils Band
Back To Get Ya J. Geils Band
Must Of Got Lost J. Geils Band
Beat Crazy Jackson, Joe
Motorist Jawbox
I Just Wanna Love U (Give It 2 Me) Jay-Z
Nigga What Nigga Who (Originator '99) Jay-Z
Lights Journey
Peachfuzz KMD
Gasface Refill [*] KMD
Mine Lake Trout
-> Lake Trout
Sounds From Below Lake Trout
Holding Lake Trout
Dancing Days Led Zeppelin
The Ocean Led Zeppelin
No Puedo Mas Los Lobos
maricela Los Lobos
Malaqu Los Lobos
The City Los Lobos
volver,volver Los Lobos
What's Your Name Lynyrd Skynyrd
Gimme Three Steps Lynyrd Skynyrd
Quintessence Mastodon
Blood and Thunder Mastodon
Ghost Of Karelia Mastodon
The Czar: I. Usurper II. Escape III. Martyr IV. Spiral Mastodon
Divinations Mastodon
Oblivion Mastodon
Hand Of Stone Mastodon
Sleeping Giant Mastodon
Lightsabre Cocksucking Blues McLusky
Alan Is A Cowboy Killer McLusky
Chases McLusky
Whoyouknow McLusky
Dethink To Survive McLusky
There Ain't No Fool In Ferguson McLusky
She Will Only Bring You Happiness McLusky
Walk Back Medeski, Martin & Wood
Wonton Medeski, Martin & Wood
Undone Medeski, Martin & Wood
Kota Medeski, Martin & Wood
Satan Your Kingdom Must Come Down Medeski, Martin & Wood
Chantes des femmes Medeski, Martin & Wood
Filler Minor Threat
That's When I Reach For My Revolver Mission Of Burma
All World Cowboy Romance Mission Of Burma
Academy Fight Song Mission Of Burma
Outlaw Mission Of Burma
Fame And Fortune Mission Of Burma
Nebraska moe.
Head moe.
Kyle's Song moe.
Tea for Two Monk, Thelonious
Spine of God Monster Magnet
Blow 'Em Off Monster Magnet
I Control, I Fly Monster Magnet
Dinosaur Vacume Monster Magnet
Pill Shovel Monster Magnet
Twin Earth Monster Magnet
Look To Your Orb For The Warning Monster Magnet
Stone Dead Forever Motörhead
Rocking Chairs And Shotguns Mouth Of The Architect
Almost Certain/Drone Moving Targets
Awesome Sky Moving Targets
Always Calling Moving Targets
Lead Song Negative Approach
Friend Or Foe Negative Approach
End Of The Harvest Neurosis
Times Of Grace Neurosis
Closer Nine Inch Nails
F*ck Y'all Ol' Dirty Bastard
Veracity, Tenacity And Aspirin Only Living Witness
Believer Osbourne, Ozzy
You Can't Kill Rock And Roll Osbourne, Ozzy
Stompin' At The Savoy Pepper, Art
What Is This Thing Called Love Pepper, Art
Bewitched, Bothered And Bewildered Pepper, Art
Sample In A Jar Phish
Bouncing Around The Room Phish
Fluffhead Phish
Tweezer Phish
Ocelot Phish
Golgi Apparatus Phish
Free Phish
Limb By Limb Phish
Fearless Pink Floyd
Run Like Hell Pink Floyd
Painkiller Poison Idea
Alan's On Fire Poison Idea
Last One Poison Idea
1994 Quasimoto
Rappcats Pt. 3 Quasimoto
Mr. Two-Faced Quasimoto
Discipline 99 Pt. 0 Quasimoto
Bad Character Quasimoto
Put A Curse On You Quasimoto
Goodmorning Sunshine Quasimoto
Raw Addict Pt. 2 Quasimoto
Axe Puzzles Quasimoto
Dragon Attack Queen
Play The Game Queen
Play The Game Queen
In The Fade Queens Of The Stone Age
Lost Art Of Keeping A Secret Queens Of The Stone Age
Better Living Through Chemistry Queens Of The Stone Age
Talk About The Passion R.E.M.
Endgame R.E.M.
New Orleans Instrumental No. 1 R.E.M.
Radio Free Europe R.E.M.
Let Me In R.E.M.
Airbag Radiohead
I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend Ramones
Blitzkrieg Bop Ramones
Mama's Boy RAMONES
Time Is the Best Revenge Raw Radar War
My Friends Red Hot Chili Peppers
Aeroplane Red Hot Chili Peppers
Taste the Pain Red Hot Chili Peppers
Good Time Boys Red Hot Chili Peppers
Scar Tissue Red Hot Chili Peppers
Hollywood (Africa) Red Hot Chili Peppers
Out In L.A. Red Hot Chili Peppers
Breaking The Girl Red Hot Chili Peppers
Subway To Venus Red Hot Chili Peppers
St. Louis Blues Reinhardt, Django
Time On My Hands Reinhardt, Django
Fly By Night Ritenour, Lee
Tom Sawyer Rush
Broon's Bane Rush
Freewill Rush
New World Man Rush
Trees Rush
The Analog Kid Rush
Chemistry Rush
Between The Wheels Rush
La Villa Strangiato Rush
Red Sector A Rush
I Think I'm Going Bald Rush
Milk S.O.D.
Formaldehead Sam Black Church
Rhinoceros Smashing Pumpkins
Drown Smashing Pumpkins
Mayonaise Smashing Pumpkins
Mommy's Little Monster Social Distortion
Teen Age Riot Sonic Youth
Problems Faced When Travelling Soul Side
Name In Mind Soul Side
War Soul Side
Atlantic City Springsteen, Bruce
Highway Patrolman Springsteen, Bruce
Atlantic City Springsteen, Bruce
Nebraska Springsteen, Bruce
Johnny 99 Springsteen, Bruce
Spirit In The Night Springsteen, Bruce
Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out Springsteen, Bruce
Open All Night Springsteen, Bruce
Tenth Avenue Freeze Out Springsteen, Bruce
Don't Take Me Alive Steely Dan
Everything You Did Steely Dan
Haitian Divorce Steely Dan
Sign In Stranger Steely Dan
Kid Charlemagne Steely Dan
Green Earrings Steely Dan
The Caves Of Altamira Steely Dan
The Royal Scam Steely Dan
The Fez Steely Dan
Home At Last Steely Dan
Babylon Sisters Steely Dan
Aja Steely Dan
Blues Beach Steely Dan
Reelin' In The Years (Live) Steely Dan
Do It Again Steely Dan
Black Cow Steely Dan
Bodhisattva Steely Dan
Any Major Dude Will Tell You Steely Dan
Lunch With Gina Steely Dan
True Companion Steely Dan
Black Cow Steely Dan
Deacon Blues Steely Dan
Night By Night Steely Dan
Green Earrings Steely Dan
FM Steely Dan
Dirty Work Steely Dan
My Old School Steely Dan
Kid Charlemagne (Live) Steely Dan
The Logical Song Supertramp
Duel Swervedriver
Rave Down Swervedriver
Last Train To Satansville Swervedriver
Midnight Rider The Allman Brothers Band
Ain't Wastin' Time No More The Allman Brothers Band
Melissa The Allman Brothers Band
Ramblin' Man The Allman Brothers Band
Back Where It All Begins The Allman Brothers Band
One Way Out The Allman Brothers Band
Blue Sky The Allman Brothers Band
End Of The Line The Allman Brothers Band
You Don't Love Me The Allman Brothers Band
Blue Sky The Allman Brothers Band
Southbound The Allman Brothers Band
Trouble No More The Allman Brothers Band
Sail on Sailor The Beach Boys
Sloop John B The Beach Boys
You Still Believe in Me The Beach Boys
That's Not Me The Beach Boys
You Know My Name (Look up the Number) The Beatles
Dear Prudence The Beatles
Rocky Racoon The Beatles
Happiness Is A Warm Gun The Beatles
Hey Jude The Beatles
While My Guitar Gently Weeps The Beatles
Piggies The Beatles
She Sells Sanctuary The Cult
Love Removal Machine The Cult
The Big Neon Glitter The Cult
Electric Ocean The Cult
Inbetween Days The Cure
Colin's Heroes The Dambuilders
Shrine The Dambuilders
L.A. Woman The Doors
Love Her Madly The Doors
Heartache Tonight The Eagles
Peaceful Easy Feeling The Eagles
Already Gone The Eagles
In the City The Eagles
On The Border The Eagles
End Of The Party The English Beat
Save It For Later The English Beat
Ackee 123 The English Beat
Mirror In The Bathroom The English Beat
Young, Fast Iranians The F.U.'s
Promised Land The F.U.'s
Warlords The F.U.'s
American Band The F.U.'s
My America The F.U.'s
T.N.H. The F.U.'s
Daisy Chain The F.U.'s
Rock The Nation The F.U.'s
Choir Boy The F.U.'s
What You Pay For The F.U.'s
Outcast The F.U.'s
Beast In My Bed The F.U.'s
Pennies From Heaven The F.U.'s
Die For God The F.U.'s
Poor, Poor, Pitiful You The F.U.'s
Ode To Larry Joe The F.U.'s
The Grinder The F.U.'s
Walking Tall The F.U.'s
Lick My Shiny Boots The F.U.'s
This Is Your Life The F.U.'s
T Sux The F.U.'s
The Beast Within The F.U.'s
Peer Police The F.U.'s
Do We Really Want To Hurt You? The F.U.'s
Civil Defense The F.U.'s
Boston's Finest The F.U.'s
Rock And Roll Mutha The F.U.'s
Shitheads The F.U.'s
My Generation The F.U.'s
Killer The F.U.'s
F.U. The F.U.'s
Unite Or Lose The F.U.'s
Rifle The F.U.'s
Do Right Woman The Flying Burrito Brothers
Hot Burrito # 1 The Flying Burrito Brothers
King Of Pain The Police
Hole In My Life The Police
Be My Girl-Sally The Police
Voices Inside My Head The Police
Next To You The Police
Driven To Tears The Police
Invisible Sun The Police
When The World Is Running Down, You Make The Best Of What's Still Around The Police
Miss Gradenko The Police
Before They Make Me The Rolling Stones
If You Can't Rock Me The Rolling Stones
Ruby Tuesday The Rolling Stones
Midnight Rambler The Rolling Stones
Shattered The Rolling Stones
Loving Cup The Rolling Stones
Dead Flowers The Rolling Stones
Shake Your Hips The Rolling Stones
Who's Been Sleeping Here? The Rolling Stones
Girl Afraid The Smiths
London The Smiths
Unlovable The Smiths
You Just Haven't Earned It Yet, Baby The Smiths
This Night Has Opened My Eyes The Smiths
Stretch Out And Wait The Smiths
Hand In Glove The Smiths
Panic The Smiths
Sweet And Tender Hooligan The Smiths
Asleep The Smiths
Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want The Smiths
These Things Take Time The Smiths
Shoplifters Of The World Unite The Smiths
Is It Really So Strange? The Smiths
Back To The Old House The Smiths
Sheila Take A Bow The Smiths
Ask The Smiths
Oscillate Wildly The Smiths
Golden Lights The Smiths
Shakespeare's Sister The Smiths
Half A Person The Smiths
Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now The Smiths
Rubber Ring The Smiths
William, It Was Really Nothing The Smiths
You've Got Everything Now The Smiths
Monkey Man The Specials
Do Nothing The Specials
Search And Destroy The Stooges
Your Pretty Face Is Going To Hell The Stooges
Death Trip The Stooges
Behind Blue Eyes [Live] The Who
A Quick One While He's Away The Who
Slip Kid The Who
Without A Sound Torche
Speed of the Nail Torche
Across the Shields Torche
Grenades Torche
Amnesian Torche
Healer Torche
Meanderthal Torche
Fat Waves Torche
Little Champion Torche
Triumph of Venus Torche
Sandstorm Torche
Sundown Torche
Safe Torche
Plunger Umphrey's McGee
Mean Street Van Halen
Dance The Night Away Van Halen
Little Guitars (Intro) Van Halen
Pegasus Vast Aire
Taboo Vast Aire
Zenith Ft. Blueprint Vast Aire
Black Sunday Vast Aire
Raise the Dead Venom
Black Market Weather Report
Directions [Take 1] Weather Report
Black-Throated Wind Weir, Bob
Grindhouse (A Go-Go) White Zombie
Wilco the Song Wilco
One True Vine Wilco
Bull Black Nova Wilco
One Blood Under W (Featuring Junior Reid) Wu-Tang Clan
Shame On A Nigga Wu-Tang Clan
Let My Niggas Live (Featuring Nas) Wu-Tang Clan
Da Mystery Of Chessboxin' Wu-Tang Clan
South Side Of The Sky Yes
Powderfinger Young, Neil
Heart Of Gold Young, Neil
Are You Ready For The Country? Young, Neil
Birds Young, Neil
The Needle And The Damage Done Young, Neil
Saturday, August 08, 2009
Distant Lights
Fuck it's hot out, but I think the nature of the trip and the constant moving is making it okay. It's 100 degrees or something here in Salina, KS with "extreme winds". With the windchill factor it makes it feel like it's 99 degrees. I got here late last night after driving half a day, taking in a Royals baseball game in Kansas City and then hitting the road for another couple of hours. Speed limit is 70 mph and late at night in Kansas there are very few cars on the road. So it was easy to hit 80 at times. The sky is huge here, and late at night it's amazing how clear it is. I tried to take pictures of it but then realized taking pictures of things/moments like that don't count.
I haven't had the energy to write much. When I get to the rooms at night I am usually falling asleep within an hour. I've driven about 1700 miles, or a little more than halfway there. I switched the route up a little bit and am going a more north route today. Pictures should be awesome. Also of note I will be hitting a state I have never been to which I think will be the 40th state I've been to. I have improvised the vast majority of this trip. The only time I turned my GPS on was when I needed to find my hotel in Cleveland which was in downtown.
Speaking of Cleveland, I hit the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame which was pretty cool. Some awe-inspiring shit there like Jerry's 1990 Doug Irwin guitar "Rosebud" as well as a few others. None of the ones from the 60's or 70's obviously. There was a Springsteen exhibit happening which was amazing. Saw the guitar he has strapped on from the Born to Run cover, tons of original lyric notebooks. Staring at the original hand written lyrics to like "For You" from Greetings, or Atlantic City...was awesome. They don't allow you to take pictures there which is kind of lame, and it seemed smaller for such a huge building. Then again I'm one of those people that will stop and look at something and be like "okay I saw it, let's go"
Have been growing tired of the accents of people out here. Their demeanor, everything is just enough to drive you crazy. People are friendly, but you also get a feeling they are thinking to themselves "this faggot better not try anything funny" about you. It was nice to not get a single comment about the Red Sox hat at the baseball game last night. Mainly because people know when to just shut up and mind their own business. That's one thing I won't miss about New England, people just need to tell you how they feel at every fucking minute. Unsolicited opinions on everything from jelly to the weather. It's tiring. Other thing with this area of the country is every man looks exactly the same. Every woman that works in a convenient store/gas station, etc you get the feeling you could probably turn her out in five minutes. Wait what?
The next part of this trip is the more "pretty" shit, but I have to say I am ready to just get there and get settled. I am growing tired of driving. Thankfully I have a good friend making the trip more bearable with texts, a phone call helping with the decision to take this next route and a general demeanor, sense of humor and personality that rules.
I'll get around to pictures soon.
I haven't had the energy to write much. When I get to the rooms at night I am usually falling asleep within an hour. I've driven about 1700 miles, or a little more than halfway there. I switched the route up a little bit and am going a more north route today. Pictures should be awesome. Also of note I will be hitting a state I have never been to which I think will be the 40th state I've been to. I have improvised the vast majority of this trip. The only time I turned my GPS on was when I needed to find my hotel in Cleveland which was in downtown.
Speaking of Cleveland, I hit the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame which was pretty cool. Some awe-inspiring shit there like Jerry's 1990 Doug Irwin guitar "Rosebud" as well as a few others. None of the ones from the 60's or 70's obviously. There was a Springsteen exhibit happening which was amazing. Saw the guitar he has strapped on from the Born to Run cover, tons of original lyric notebooks. Staring at the original hand written lyrics to like "For You" from Greetings, or Atlantic City...was awesome. They don't allow you to take pictures there which is kind of lame, and it seemed smaller for such a huge building. Then again I'm one of those people that will stop and look at something and be like "okay I saw it, let's go"
Have been growing tired of the accents of people out here. Their demeanor, everything is just enough to drive you crazy. People are friendly, but you also get a feeling they are thinking to themselves "this faggot better not try anything funny" about you. It was nice to not get a single comment about the Red Sox hat at the baseball game last night. Mainly because people know when to just shut up and mind their own business. That's one thing I won't miss about New England, people just need to tell you how they feel at every fucking minute. Unsolicited opinions on everything from jelly to the weather. It's tiring. Other thing with this area of the country is every man looks exactly the same. Every woman that works in a convenient store/gas station, etc you get the feeling you could probably turn her out in five minutes. Wait what?
The next part of this trip is the more "pretty" shit, but I have to say I am ready to just get there and get settled. I am growing tired of driving. Thankfully I have a good friend making the trip more bearable with texts, a phone call helping with the decision to take this next route and a general demeanor, sense of humor and personality that rules.
I'll get around to pictures soon.
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
Looking for Steamers
Today was more like I remember these long road trips when you are the person driving...long and tedious. Not for the impatient. I almost started smoking again about eighty times but decided to eat or drink things instead. It really will wear you down. Especially being by yourself. Perhaps because of the small amount of sleep I got (about 4 hours), but I was already starting to feel the exhaustion coming on two or three hours in. I ended up stopping more than I like to normally stop but I had to keep getting different coffee based beverages. Next service area I would stop at to use the bathroom. I used to pride myself on going long hours in the car without having to stop to use the restroom. Today it was like I was my own girlfriend. I'm surprised I didn't start complaining that I was cold. I wanted to cover a little more ground than the brief journey the night before and kind of did, but not really as much as I'd like to. I did want to stop here though, so...not sure what the problem is here. I think I went 450 miles or so as opposed to the 200 late night miles last night. It's after midnight now; I can't imagine being up that late tonight. With a good nights rest and an actual breakfast tomorrow, and maybe a visit to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame it should be a better drive.
This morning I left at 9:45 AM, stopped in Cleveland (where I am now). I got here at 6:20, enough time to check into this hotel I booked on the phone earlier, change my clothes and walk to the baseball park in time for the National Anthem. It was a nice park. I always find myself wanting to roam around these parks, especially if I don't have anything emotionally invested in either team. It's easy to lose interest. Cleveland were winning by a pretty big margin by the time I left during the 7th inning.
This hotel I am in, it's in a very old building, like blood pouring out of the elevators and creepy twins lurking around the corners of the long hallways. I got here and while checking in and getting all my papers and shit in order I asked the guy what floor the room was on and he lets me know I have been upgraded to the top floor, to "a suite with a little living room area and a kitchenette". What I did to deserve this I have no idea. I know the price on the door on the legal document says the room is a $279 room. I paid waaay less than that. I enjoy being high up like this in hotels and being able to see lights and other buildings and cars on bridges far away going who knows where. This room though, absolutely huge and unnecessary for anyone, even someone who can afford it.
Again feel like there's more there, just spent right now. Shit written down on paper though for good measure.
This morning I left at 9:45 AM, stopped in Cleveland (where I am now). I got here at 6:20, enough time to check into this hotel I booked on the phone earlier, change my clothes and walk to the baseball park in time for the National Anthem. It was a nice park. I always find myself wanting to roam around these parks, especially if I don't have anything emotionally invested in either team. It's easy to lose interest. Cleveland were winning by a pretty big margin by the time I left during the 7th inning.
This hotel I am in, it's in a very old building, like blood pouring out of the elevators and creepy twins lurking around the corners of the long hallways. I got here and while checking in and getting all my papers and shit in order I asked the guy what floor the room was on and he lets me know I have been upgraded to the top floor, to "a suite with a little living room area and a kitchenette". What I did to deserve this I have no idea. I know the price on the door on the legal document says the room is a $279 room. I paid waaay less than that. I enjoy being high up like this in hotels and being able to see lights and other buildings and cars on bridges far away going who knows where. This room though, absolutely huge and unnecessary for anyone, even someone who can afford it.
Again feel like there's more there, just spent right now. Shit written down on paper though for good measure.
Briefly
Got off to a way later start than I had planned (10:45 PM - was aiming for 8:00 PM, ouch!). The car is more full than I had planned on having it, but it feels good to have as much shit with me as I could grab. The first few miles the car was tough to handle. I could feel the weight in it. It felt like it was veering to one side, but realized it was just paranoia. One thing I did discover was Cruise Control. I never use Cruise Control and I think I may become a friend of it on this trip. Does Cruise Control need to be capitalized? Well, on this trip it obviously does.
I was under the impression that I needed to leave in the evening for this trip for an unknown reason. "Because I did it before" was the most often given reason . Five minutes into the drive I forgot that in the last few years I've grown to not like driving at night on the highway. Perhaps it's the area of the country I am but people are all up in your shit with bright headlights and tailgating you in the right lane (this happened tonight. Was doing 62 mph in the RIGHT LANE. Not a soul in the middle lane and this guy decides I am going too slow in 'THE FUCKING SLOW POKE LANE". A number of "right lane closed" experiences later and I finally stopped an all too short 200 miles at a place called "Amsterdam, New York". I am of course doing my best impression of a person in Amsterdam I can. I was going to attempt to see a Cleveland Indians game tomorrow night, but seeing as I am behind schedule time and miles wise I may not make it which would suck. Seven hours from where I am. Check out time is 11:00 AM. It's currently 4:45 AM. I think I can. Fuck sleep.
A good last few days spent with everyone I would want to spend time with and then some. I hugged so many people it felt like it did that time Jerry Garcia died.
Will have more to say when there are more things to say.
I was under the impression that I needed to leave in the evening for this trip for an unknown reason. "Because I did it before" was the most often given reason . Five minutes into the drive I forgot that in the last few years I've grown to not like driving at night on the highway. Perhaps it's the area of the country I am but people are all up in your shit with bright headlights and tailgating you in the right lane (this happened tonight. Was doing 62 mph in the RIGHT LANE. Not a soul in the middle lane and this guy decides I am going too slow in 'THE FUCKING SLOW POKE LANE". A number of "right lane closed" experiences later and I finally stopped an all too short 200 miles at a place called "Amsterdam, New York". I am of course doing my best impression of a person in Amsterdam I can. I was going to attempt to see a Cleveland Indians game tomorrow night, but seeing as I am behind schedule time and miles wise I may not make it which would suck. Seven hours from where I am. Check out time is 11:00 AM. It's currently 4:45 AM. I think I can. Fuck sleep.
A good last few days spent with everyone I would want to spend time with and then some. I hugged so many people it felt like it did that time Jerry Garcia died.
Will have more to say when there are more things to say.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
IHOPE
90% of the ideas I have on a daily basis, especially when involving food, are bad. I had some errands to run on the North Shore early this morning. I took a little drive after and took some photos of the ocean and that kind of thing. I hadn't eaten anything and as is the case anytime I am somewhere awake and it's between 7:00 AM and 11:59 AM, and I'm hungry I could eat breakfast. I realized I was hungry and this was the point where I should have driven home. I have ten eggs in the fridge right now, english muffins, bacon, sausage, milk and magazines to read. Everything one needs to eat. Another idea I threw around in my head was to go to Red's in downtown Salem. It's a small little diner type place famous for being a place that people talk about. Food is as good as food at those kinds of places can be but there's a good atmosphere and they have a great selection. Didn't feel like dealing with downtown Salem and parking and the possibility to running into someone I know and having to explain to them I'm moving and what I'm doing and then listen to what they're doing, etc. No thanks. At this point I pretty much have left Massachusetts, so.
So I don't incriminate myself I will change the name of this restaurant I did decide to visit to...International House of Poor Ethiopians, or IHOPE. I went in this same exact restaurant a few months earlier when I was in the area for errands. I recognized a few of the waitresses and the similar clientele from the last time I was there. Lots of disgusting people presumably from Lynn? Check. Lesbian woman that looks like Phillip Seymour Hoffman? Check.
I text my friend Aarne “Do you think I am going to regret this IHOP meal?” he replies “Not at all buddy!”
So I get the coffee that comes in that vessel allowing you to have three or so cups. I text Aarne again “Coffee tastes like it was brewed and burned three months ago” he replies “that’s part of the charm! no more boysenberry either!” I remember this. IHOPE does not have Boysenberry syrup anymore. Syrup made from a berry nobody has ever heard of. People who have been studying berries for thousands of years, reading ancient texts about berries found by long lost generations and there has never been something called a boysenberry. Somehow spellcheck thinks boysenberries are real. I wonder how Google feels? I can’t be bothered really.
The food comes. I ordered the eggs “over medium” which in reality means the yolk won’t be runny but not hard and dry either. The eggs are completely runny, like cooked less than over easy. The hash browns are okay, sauasage: ice cold. MMMMMM. Then I eat some more potatoes and realize there is something in my mouth that isn’t potato. I pull out what looks like a pubic hair. Aarne and I have been texting back and forth and he wants me to steal the boysenberry syrup for him. I don’t have a jacket or bag with me and as much as I’d love to stick something down my pants and steal it from this shit hole an object filled with syrup is on the short list o things I will not stick down my pants. Plus, I have bigger plans in my head. He reminds me that the only time one should be eating at a place like this is between 1:00 AM and 4:00 AM. This is exactly true.
I decide I am going to leave three dollars on the table for the tip; when the hostess and the manager leave the front counter I will leave the restaurant with this bill for $13 in my pocket. My car is a dangerous 50 or so yards out and the walk will be a clear view of the front counter. I have never done this in my life. There are also a couple of policemen on another side in view of the restaurant directing traffic. As soon as I see the hostess and manager woman in the seating area I rise and walk determined to the front. Get nervous for a second and consider just heading into the bathroom and coming out and paying when one of them returns but no I take a little glance behind me and see I am free. I get outside and start walking calmly towards my car, then start jogging towards it, fumbled with the keys like women in movies getting chased and then hop in and poof, I’m gone. Fuck you. Shit what a rush of adrenaline. And the whole thing premeditated! Like I couldn’t have been more guilty of something than if I walked up to a group of cops and shot one of them point blank in the face wearing an “I hate cops and am about to kill one” t-shirt with a picture of my face on it and then having this writing on my computer and now on the internet.
I am now escaped and free, but am paying the price. I go to the shopping mall to check out some shit and “lay low” for a while which is what they do in movies after committing a crime. Then I remember you’re also not supposed to buy anything lavish like fur coats, expensive watches, etc. Then I also remember I didn’t rob a bank and am not in a mob movie. I walk by a mall cop and believe he is “on to me” so I break another direction and lose his ass in a women’s clothing store that I can’t find the name of. I leave the mall and a state police car speeds past me with it’s lights flashing. Keeps going. I AM IN THE FUCKING CLEAR!.
Now a normal person probably would have just said something to the waitress or manager and sent the food back but really, if you believe sending your food back is your best option you are horribly wrong. There is no possible way something isn’t going to be done to your food especially at a low quality place like this where the combined salary of the whole workforce there is probably $100,000/yr. And besides, I hate complaining about shit. Aside from right here.
So my score on a scale of 1-10 of IHOPE: 1
So I don't incriminate myself I will change the name of this restaurant I did decide to visit to...International House of Poor Ethiopians, or IHOPE. I went in this same exact restaurant a few months earlier when I was in the area for errands. I recognized a few of the waitresses and the similar clientele from the last time I was there. Lots of disgusting people presumably from Lynn? Check. Lesbian woman that looks like Phillip Seymour Hoffman? Check.
I text my friend Aarne “Do you think I am going to regret this IHOP meal?” he replies “Not at all buddy!”
So I get the coffee that comes in that vessel allowing you to have three or so cups. I text Aarne again “Coffee tastes like it was brewed and burned three months ago” he replies “that’s part of the charm! no more boysenberry either!” I remember this. IHOPE does not have Boysenberry syrup anymore. Syrup made from a berry nobody has ever heard of. People who have been studying berries for thousands of years, reading ancient texts about berries found by long lost generations and there has never been something called a boysenberry. Somehow spellcheck thinks boysenberries are real. I wonder how Google feels? I can’t be bothered really.
The food comes. I ordered the eggs “over medium” which in reality means the yolk won’t be runny but not hard and dry either. The eggs are completely runny, like cooked less than over easy. The hash browns are okay, sauasage: ice cold. MMMMMM. Then I eat some more potatoes and realize there is something in my mouth that isn’t potato. I pull out what looks like a pubic hair. Aarne and I have been texting back and forth and he wants me to steal the boysenberry syrup for him. I don’t have a jacket or bag with me and as much as I’d love to stick something down my pants and steal it from this shit hole an object filled with syrup is on the short list o things I will not stick down my pants. Plus, I have bigger plans in my head. He reminds me that the only time one should be eating at a place like this is between 1:00 AM and 4:00 AM. This is exactly true.
I decide I am going to leave three dollars on the table for the tip; when the hostess and the manager leave the front counter I will leave the restaurant with this bill for $13 in my pocket. My car is a dangerous 50 or so yards out and the walk will be a clear view of the front counter. I have never done this in my life. There are also a couple of policemen on another side in view of the restaurant directing traffic. As soon as I see the hostess and manager woman in the seating area I rise and walk determined to the front. Get nervous for a second and consider just heading into the bathroom and coming out and paying when one of them returns but no I take a little glance behind me and see I am free. I get outside and start walking calmly towards my car, then start jogging towards it, fumbled with the keys like women in movies getting chased and then hop in and poof, I’m gone. Fuck you. Shit what a rush of adrenaline. And the whole thing premeditated! Like I couldn’t have been more guilty of something than if I walked up to a group of cops and shot one of them point blank in the face wearing an “I hate cops and am about to kill one” t-shirt with a picture of my face on it and then having this writing on my computer and now on the internet.
I am now escaped and free, but am paying the price. I go to the shopping mall to check out some shit and “lay low” for a while which is what they do in movies after committing a crime. Then I remember you’re also not supposed to buy anything lavish like fur coats, expensive watches, etc. Then I also remember I didn’t rob a bank and am not in a mob movie. I walk by a mall cop and believe he is “on to me” so I break another direction and lose his ass in a women’s clothing store that I can’t find the name of. I leave the mall and a state police car speeds past me with it’s lights flashing. Keeps going. I AM IN THE FUCKING CLEAR!.
Now a normal person probably would have just said something to the waitress or manager and sent the food back but really, if you believe sending your food back is your best option you are horribly wrong. There is no possible way something isn’t going to be done to your food especially at a low quality place like this where the combined salary of the whole workforce there is probably $100,000/yr. And besides, I hate complaining about shit. Aside from right here.
So my score on a scale of 1-10 of IHOPE: 1
Friday, July 10, 2009
"But I've seen your double dares everything extraordinaire I know the things you do are gonna come back"
Eight days, nine days, I can’t really remember and it doesn’t matter anyway. This recent trip had something to do with a recent relationship. Per usual online and in real life I’ll never talk about my relationships good or bad, and if I do you can assume I am lying. You should probably do that with a number of things I say. I think.
We set out on this trip last Tuesday, at the worst time to set out on a trip, late afternoon. I should have seen this is a sign this trip would make me feel like Marlow in Heart of Darkness. It was hot and rainy and we were filling a U-Haul with all of her belongings. I was responsible for what would seem like difficult tasks like pulling a washing machine and dryer up stairs through a spider web and God-knows-what infested bulkhead out of the basement up into this U-Haul truck. I had this horrible pain in my upper back for a few days before this and all of this moving actually made the pain go away. I was slightly disappointed in this as I’ve kind of grown to live with being in pain every day of my life, at least when it comes to my back. My arms and shoulders felt nice and worked from all of this lifting as well. I decided once all of this is over with and I am settled somewhere I will start lifting weights again, especially now that I have quit smoking. I immediately was reminded of how great it feels to have arms that feel like rubber from lifting heavy objects.
We would be driving from here in Massachusetts to Oklahoma City, which is in the state of Oklahoma. We would also have her two cats with us which is a whole other world of shit if you’ve ever driven with a cat in a car you know it’s probably the second worst thing to have in your car while driving long distances. The first would be another person. Driving with another person on long distances is definitely a test. A test I know I will always fail at. Like a test I didn’t even take a class for let alone study for. I think the only people you (well, me) could travel long distances with in a car is a prostitute that doesn’t charge you money and one that doesn’t have any diseases. Like a prostitute on her (or his) first day of work ever. I could travel with this person. The other person I could travel I a long distance with in a car would be a person who just died and their body is stowed away somewhere and you are basically just transporting the body. I hate having to stop when I don’t need to stop, and thankfully she isn’t one of those people that need to go to the bathroom if a drop of water is ten feet from her. You ever meet one of these people? Every time they take a sip of a drink they have to visit a restroom immediately after. I couldn’t travel with one of these. I like to push myself and try to do things like drive seven hours without stopping. I drove the first night. Of course it was raining, hot and we had cats making all sorts of noise in the car. Traffic in Massachusetts was for the most part and hot miserable rain soaked. This type of traffic is the worst kind of traffic. At one point a person pulled next to me yelling and pointing at the car we were towing. Oh yeah, we would also be towing a car on the back of this U-Haul truck. I have never been able to back up anything with a trailer. From time to time one of those know-it-all types will say something snide like “Well all you have to do is turn the wheel one way and the tires go this way, turn it the other way and they go that way” This couldn’t be further from the truth. You’re looking through these giant oddly shaped mirrors so everything is backwards. There is noise and sun in your face and the whole thing is a horrible experience. This situation would rear its ugly head the next morning. Back to this guy yelling at me to pull over: I pull over and can’t figure out what is wrong with the car we are towing. A few miles later another guy pulls up, this time I can actually hear him. Not sure if you know this but when you are going any speed over say….20 miles an hour and yell to someone at a car next to you they can’t hear you like in the movies. Now that I think of it I can’t think of one movie where this has happened. I hear “your ramps are down”. Turns out we were dragging a ramp. This was fixed. Six or seven hours later we arrived in Syracuse, NY. I would not drive this truck again until a day after we arrived in Oklahoma City because I apparently “follow people too close” to which I let her know “well, you drive too close to shit on the right”
I don’t have a laptop anymore so writing for this trip would have to be by hand, which at this point is not fun. I learned to enjoy it once I was on the train coming back. Here is what I wrote night one:
“Depressing motel, area of country and situation I am in right now. But with all things negative a positive always comes along and fixes that straight away. This kind of travelling where I am not relaxed isn’t really my idea of fun but, eh… The fun comes later. When I think of back home, and when I say back home I don’t mean ‘back home in Massachusetts’ I mean where I have spent ‘time’ the last few months and felt happiest, like myself. It’s nice to have people in my life that don’t owe me anything that I can feel completely comfortable around. I actually feel like myself. This feeling crossed with that mysterious feeling of the unknown and distance is an oddly satisfying feeling I’ve been spending time with for the last few months. I like this feeling much better than the uncomfortable feelings I sometimes feel in reality. I keep thinking I want to write a letter but then realize just living and being is good for right now. I have too much in my head to think about anything else, especially if I am happy the way it is now”
Driving through upstate New York, I have done it so much in all parts of it…well, all parts off of Route 90, which isn’t much. I like it up there. Some of it, when you start moving more west anyway, feels like it is five years ago, or even twenty years ago. There is this lonely and sad feeling of claustrophobia and emptiness that appears late at night there driving past orange lit parking lots for hours at a time. I love it and hate it up there at the same time.
From upstate New York to Oklahoma City, the trip was pretty uneventful, long stretches of road where neither of us talked for hours, I dozed off for a good chunk of the time. Other times we had the radio tuned to talk radio and everything there is right wing and/or religious. I don’t really follow politics or care much about any of the issues they talk about, but really listening to some of these people I have to imagine any sane person with even a little bit of education that I know in real life would agree with me that literally every single thing some of these people were talking about was complete crap. One show we listened to in Missouri (the state where I thought [for the second time now] that I was about to be raped at any minute by some cackling redneck) had a show talking about how bad video games were. The woman prefaced the story with “Video games, like other horrible things like abortion, pornography and homosexuality…” The people calling in were worse. I briefly thought of calling in but realized even trying reason with folks down there is probably not even fun. Dennis Miller has a show, where he complained about Barack Obama and so did his callers. My idea of politics especially after this recent election is its just listening to people complaining and arguing about how they think things should be done. I’m not sure I can think of something worse than this. Conversations about the weather may be a close second. I didn’t really let listening to these fools ruin anything for me; there are people out there who think their opinions matter, what can I do about that? Yeah, ignore them.
I won’t bore you with the details of the rest of part 1 of this trip as it’s also something I don’t feel like reflecting on right now especially that momentum has already started moving forward.
"I trust no emotion
I believe in locomotion
But I've turned to rust as we've discussed"
I caught a train out of Oklahoma City early Tuesday morning for a brief four hour journey south to Ft Worth, Texas. The night before I left, I slept about two and a half hours. Monday night. The next time I would go to sleep would be Thursday night/Friday Morning around 3:30 AM.
The double-decker train was an empty train, a pleasure compared to the rest of the trip which was back to back full trains. Arriving in Ft Worth it was hot as piss outside and although as the case with most train stations it was a shady area of town, I only got approached by one guy asking for change to “buy an ice cream”. I hate having tons of change in my pockets especially if I am going to be sitting for long periods of time I handed him a handful of dimes and pennies and he made his way into the train station and did indeed come out a few minutes earlier with an ice cream. Who doesn’t love an honest beggar? I would also meet an honest beggar in Chicago who asked for money for “The Jack Daniels Foundation”, I of course gave him a crisp dollar bill. I did quite a bit of writing on the trains, and since I didn’t really have a full night of sleep over three days some of it made no sense. Here is some of it:
“6. If enemies are not close. You will automatic win any battle. For I will move far from.”
“When I reach California I will burn this book finally. Words in here from 1992. Some guy in 1992 wrote about long forgotten women. Such messy writing that I purposely used so no one could read it if they found. Who knows who all of these spirits are in here, I can’t imagine I will ever need to refer back to this to improve anything in my life. I will throw this book in a barrel. Like in Repo Man when they have the ‘Plate-o-shrimp’ conversation. You know, like dudes under bridges in Los Angeles burning shit in barrels. Having a couple of beers”
“Feel like I will start seeing things any minute now. I haven’t had a proper night’s sleep in whateveramountofdays now. I feel like ripping this map in front of me into a trillion little pieces. I stare at it and the schedule for hours. Not minutes, hours. This is all you can do here sit and wait sit and wait sit and wait. People are off sleeping, sweating and smelling up that car back there. This thick warm bad breathy hospital silence lit by a thin strip of lights on the ceiling as you sway to the back of each car trying not to bump heads and legs spilling into the aisle. You get good at this acrobatic feat by the end of the trip. Even in the shape I am in, like if I tried to operate heavy machinery, it would not be pretty. I can’t believe that this trip take 24 fucking hours to get from Chicago to Boston. It sounds like some sort of trap the Gods of confusion set. Let’s make this guy think something is true that isn’t true. Wait, what? Some moments here I blink my eyes but they don’t re-open. I enjoy sitting in these cars writing even though I just saw stars while writing that last sentence. I saw an Amish woman at a pay phone at the Chicago train station”
The first half of this trip was pretty depressing for the most part. The second half I met a number of people that I spent a good amount of time with and finally as painfully tiring the trip was I felt like I was having a good time and was able to keep my mind in other places other than where it actually was. This first group of people I saw for a couple of days walking around and hanging together. A young man about 22, but maybe younger. Big tall, could be menacing, but a baby face. At least 6’ 4”. Also, had one leg and was on a crutch. There were two other girls, around the same age. One was a nerdy looking girl, glasses with a jeweled chain on them to hang from her neck whatever those are called I have no idea. Other girl seemed young and sheltered, kind of an unfortunate look that I won’t go into but let us say she kind of looked like this bass player from a Canadian rock band I won’t mention the name of. I kind of got the vibe that this girl was sort of a pain in the ass and these other kids did not like her. When I did meet the three of them, at the end of my trip to Chicago, or about four hours left in that journey they were mean to her. Right to her face. The young girl did not understand sarcasm and was getting ruined and not knowing it. I felt kind of bad and then remembered this is how young kids are, they judge and judge and pick on and pick on until they eventually settle in on some set of standards which is: Be a dick. Don’t be a dick. I picked the latter when it was my time. On the other hand, these other two, the nerdy white girl who did in fact know things about Star Trek and asked me “is that Gandalf?” regarding a tattoo on my arm seemed to have been around, and this kid with one leg. He was writing in some little notebook. At first when I saw him I said to myself “jeez, fucking trench coat mafia over here”. Same sort of reaction you have if you see like a Juggalo (or the more rare but better Jugallete!). You always say to yourself “Oh yup a juggallo…where’s the hatchet man thingy? Oh yup there it is on his thing there, does he have the…oh yeah there’s that thing too they all have.” And then you go on wondering what Insane Clown Posse even sound like and wondering why people hate ICP fans. There is clearly not one good reason to care about these people good or bad is there? This kid though, here I am judging him the second I see him, meanwhile I looked like an even bigger asshole on a number of occasions from age 10 to say age….39 so yeah. He was a nice kid, the nerdy girl was nice but I could see was a little too “oh my god I am in art school, check me out” for me. The annoying young girl would be on my next train from Chicago to Boston. She was going to Ohio somewhere with her mom. These people looked like they stepped off the set of Little House on the Prairie. The girl may have been annoying, but was 18 and probably never left the little town in Arizona she was from. She sat with me on the next train in the lounge car while a line of folks waited for food, coffee and drinks. She was very loud and told me a story of some young kid who ran his car into a metal fence at her school and blah blah blah eventually winding her way to September 11th somehow telling me in an un-ironic way “now that is a day I will NEVER forget”. I replied, “well yeah, you’re not supposed to forget that day”. She mentioned they had it on the television at her school when it happened and I told her we had a similar situation when I was in high school when the space shuttle with Christa McAuliffe blew up. She said “was that Apollo 13?”. I said “I’m not that old, jeez”. The whole time the line of people can hear every word of this painful conversation until finally she leaves and people stop looking at me and having eye-rolling contests with me. I never saw her again.
I met some interesting artists and musicians later in the evening, a tall pretty girl from Portland, Oregon originally from New Hampshire. We both thought we looked familiar but I think she was much younger which leads me to believe we probably do not know each other at all. I talked with her and these two artists from the Oakland area, one also played guitar and trombone with Citizen Fish. Very cool down to earth people I enjoyed shooting the shit with for a few hours.
The last day of the trip my head and body were gone. I spent the better part of the day dozing off for a few seconds here and a few seconds there. I probably looked like I was on drugs. The last time I felt semi-normal on this part of this journey was for my long layover in Chicago where I left the station, went to the Sears Tower, shot up the elevator but the lines were too long for the deck so I just went back to the lobby and had steak and some sangria before heading back to a Starbucks to charge my phones and then back to the station to wait. It was nice not moving back and forth on a train. Had a couple of good phone calls and then back to hell.
The evening is when I met these folks above. The next day, the last day where I never even attempted to go to sleep until I eventually reached the critical/best point of being exhausted the “now I’m completely wired and don’t even know what it feels like to be tired”. From around noon on the last day until we arrived in Boston around 10:30 PM I was wired. I spent about three or four hours with this African-American woman maybe in her early 50’s. She was a writer and also a minister . We talked about life for a long time and it was great. She was an intense person and we connected on all sorts of subjects. One of those people you meet along the way that gives off a cool vibe. She has a book available online that I am going to check out. One thing I enjoy about taking these trains is you are trapped on this thing with these people and you are kind of forced to talked to them for hours at a time as long as they are willing to do the same. Most of the time it turns out to be a great conversation. As I was saying to the woman “everyone’s story is interesting on some level. If they have the gift to tell a story then that story is even better”
I spent the remainder of the day with a guy named Dennis. He was from Milwaukee and was heading to Dorchester to see his mother who was sick. Dennis, turning 50 drives a tractor trailer, and has been with the same woman for I think he said twenty-six years. He kind of looked like Snoop Dogg, which I’m sure he would take as an insult as he told me he didn’t like rap music. He had some great stories of driving trucks in different parts of the country. We both mentioned different parts of the country we enjoyed seeing. He clearly has more miles on me and more states but I feel like I have enough experience to talk about a number of places in the US anyway. One thing I really like with sitting with some of these strangers for hours is how much you can learn about people if they are willing to tell stories and are as bored as you are with just sleeping in your seat all day. So hanging with him until the last few minutes of the journey was great as we were still swapping stories about areas of Massachusetts. Good times indeed. There were a number of other people I spent some time with but most of them weren’t as interesting or were kind of messed up.
Best part of this trip was probably the last couple of days. It was a long mentally and physically exhausting trip that I still haven’t fully absorbed. If anything it was an exercise in patience and a preview of the lengths of road I have to travel myself in August. I forgot how long some of these drives get. A three hour chunk of driving through nowhere has the feel of a five hour chunk of driving. The August trip has an ultimately happier ending for the most part, and I will have a laptop by then for documenting that trip as I go with hopefully less stream of conscious than this, which I am not even going to proofread. Here it is.
pics from the trip are here
Monday, June 09, 2008
Dear God,
I had just finished getting my blonde dreadlocks up in a ponytail when Bill called me to tell me he would be by any minute. We were going to see TOOL IN CONCERT. I still had no idea if I wanted to wear my Nine Inch Nails shirt or my White Zombie hoodie. OR MAYBE BOTH! I was going to a Tool concert for the fifth time. Let me tell you, Tool is one of the best bands because they are awesome musicians and the singer is like all fucked up and writes awesome lyrics. He is totally twisted. Like this one time on a Tool record they had this guy speaking in German, he sounded like a Nazi or something. It turns out the guy is reciting some recipe! HAHA! That is so cutting edge and intense when I had my cousin who was in the army translate it for me I laughed so hard I spit my Bud Ice all over his copy of Rancid’s Let’s Go! (Which was okay with me because Rancid are not that great, they play punk music which doesn’t take any talent at all to play, like the guys in Tool would never be caught dead playing this simple cheesy three chord stuff and running around stage with leather jackets.)
On the way to the TOOL CONCERT we had to pick up our friend Cynthia. Cynthia is pretty cool, she’s kind of fat but has an okay face and likes pretty good music so it’s all good. One time I almost made out with Cynthia at this party after an Evanescence concert but her mom text messaged her that their dog was sick so she had to go. So we pick up Cynthia and of course she needs us to stop so she can grab a pack of Marlboro Lights and a Diet Mountain Dew.
We arrived at the TOOL CONCERT and it was awesome. All sorts of awesome people there ready for the best band ever to play us a concert. Then they came out on stage. I went into the pit for the first few songs but had to use the bathroom during one of the songs off that Laeturalus or however you spell it album which I don’t like that much. I mean it’s still an awesome album because the music is performed by the guys in Tool who are all top notch musicians who play technical music. Some of the songs on Leaturalius though were so weird I had to force myself to like the music on it which is all good. I just assume the songs are catchy in some weird alternate universe that only Maynard, the lead singer of Tool knows about. LOL.
They had an awesome light show going on during the concert.
After the TOOL CONCERT, we went to the back of the arena and tried to meet the band at their bus but they never came out. Cynthia met some weird guy with one of those Bluetooth things in his ear though. We hung around outside of the bus for about two hours smoking cigarettes and high fiving some of the other Tool fans walking by. They had also just witnessed an awesome concert by TOOL.
We then left the concert area and went to a Denny’s for breakfast. It was awesome in there. These gay club people were in there that probably listened to rap music or something stupid and talentless like Justin Timberlake. All the girls looked like sluts and the guys smelled of cologne. These people probably have no idea that Tool exist, or maybe they heard them on MTV and thought they were cool for listening to that song Prison Sex which is a good song and all but it’s one of the popular ones so it’s not like a song the real fans like. At one point in Denny’s we were laughing and making noise and throwing things around. We barely had enough money to pay the bill so we only left 80 cents for a tip on a $23 bill. LOL. I’m sure the lady was okay though as the place was packed. All those stupid disco clubbers looked like they had money.
We dropped Cynthia off and then Bill dropped me off. I’d have to say this was one of the best nights of my life I’ve ever had thanks to the TOOL CONCERT.
I had just finished getting my blonde dreadlocks up in a ponytail when Bill called me to tell me he would be by any minute. We were going to see TOOL IN CONCERT. I still had no idea if I wanted to wear my Nine Inch Nails shirt or my White Zombie hoodie. OR MAYBE BOTH! I was going to a Tool concert for the fifth time. Let me tell you, Tool is one of the best bands because they are awesome musicians and the singer is like all fucked up and writes awesome lyrics. He is totally twisted. Like this one time on a Tool record they had this guy speaking in German, he sounded like a Nazi or something. It turns out the guy is reciting some recipe! HAHA! That is so cutting edge and intense when I had my cousin who was in the army translate it for me I laughed so hard I spit my Bud Ice all over his copy of Rancid’s Let’s Go! (Which was okay with me because Rancid are not that great, they play punk music which doesn’t take any talent at all to play, like the guys in Tool would never be caught dead playing this simple cheesy three chord stuff and running around stage with leather jackets.)
On the way to the TOOL CONCERT we had to pick up our friend Cynthia. Cynthia is pretty cool, she’s kind of fat but has an okay face and likes pretty good music so it’s all good. One time I almost made out with Cynthia at this party after an Evanescence concert but her mom text messaged her that their dog was sick so she had to go. So we pick up Cynthia and of course she needs us to stop so she can grab a pack of Marlboro Lights and a Diet Mountain Dew.
We arrived at the TOOL CONCERT and it was awesome. All sorts of awesome people there ready for the best band ever to play us a concert. Then they came out on stage. I went into the pit for the first few songs but had to use the bathroom during one of the songs off that Laeturalus or however you spell it album which I don’t like that much. I mean it’s still an awesome album because the music is performed by the guys in Tool who are all top notch musicians who play technical music. Some of the songs on Leaturalius though were so weird I had to force myself to like the music on it which is all good. I just assume the songs are catchy in some weird alternate universe that only Maynard, the lead singer of Tool knows about. LOL.
They had an awesome light show going on during the concert.
After the TOOL CONCERT, we went to the back of the arena and tried to meet the band at their bus but they never came out. Cynthia met some weird guy with one of those Bluetooth things in his ear though. We hung around outside of the bus for about two hours smoking cigarettes and high fiving some of the other Tool fans walking by. They had also just witnessed an awesome concert by TOOL.
We then left the concert area and went to a Denny’s for breakfast. It was awesome in there. These gay club people were in there that probably listened to rap music or something stupid and talentless like Justin Timberlake. All the girls looked like sluts and the guys smelled of cologne. These people probably have no idea that Tool exist, or maybe they heard them on MTV and thought they were cool for listening to that song Prison Sex which is a good song and all but it’s one of the popular ones so it’s not like a song the real fans like. At one point in Denny’s we were laughing and making noise and throwing things around. We barely had enough money to pay the bill so we only left 80 cents for a tip on a $23 bill. LOL. I’m sure the lady was okay though as the place was packed. All those stupid disco clubbers looked like they had money.
We dropped Cynthia off and then Bill dropped me off. I’d have to say this was one of the best nights of my life I’ve ever had thanks to the TOOL CONCERT.
Friday, September 14, 2007
I arrived in Monterey Wednesday afternoon and headed straight to Cannery Row. I spent the last few months reading a number of John Steinbeck books, two of which took place in this very area, Cannery Row and Tortilla Flat. Although the camaraderie obviously isn’t the same as it was in these stories, walking among the shops at dusk as most of them were closing their doors for the day I felt a small sense of community between the shop employees who spend hours a day together, much like you feel at any nine to five job whether you like the people you work with or don’t. Some of the older, weathered looking men running the little carts selling various tourist related items will most likely die here, doing what they love; spending time on the water happy to service folks from all around the world. It was depressing and admirable at the same time. The bittersweet emotions experienced here in my brief pass through will be something I’ll always remember especially as it was the one place I was looking forward to visiting the most on this trip.
Both of my meals on Cannery Row I ate outside, the lunch right on the water overlooking the harbor (the pic above was the view from where I ate), and later on my dinner at an okay barbecue place that overlooked a walkway. An odd mix of bohemian bicyclists, homeless men who weren’t pushy like the ones in bigger areas like Los Angeles and San Francisco gathered on the bricks. You could see some character in these folks by the way they carried themselves, unlike the city versions which are generally guys with funny signs “I need money for beer, I won’t lie”, etc. Good for a laugh, but I’d rather give a cigarette to one of these Monterey guys than a quarter to one of these guys in the city.
I got to San Francisco late afternoon on Wednesday, checked into my hotel and then made my way down to AT & T Park to see a San Francisco Giants game. They were playing the first place Arizona Diamondbacks, and from what I read today they were eliminated from any playoff spot after this loss. The game was good, the park was really nice, and I scored a ticket at the box office for $42 about 25 rows back from home plate.
This would never happen at Fenway Park! It is kind of surreal how much adoration the city has for Barry Bonds (who didn't play!), widely considered someone who cheated his way into the record books, and although I had nothing i
nvested in this game or team
I still cheered for the home team, even though I was sporting my Red Sox hat. It was nice to see
nvested in this game or teamI still cheered for the home team, even though I was sporting my Red Sox hat. It was nice to see
a baseball game, something I didn't do in Boston this year. I stayed until around the eight inning and left as for some reason I thought it would be a good idea to not bring a jacket or sweatshirt with me on this trip to a baseball park that sits on the water in late September. I briefly considered buying a sweatshirt but then realized I would then be the owner of a San Francisco Giants sweatshirt, it would kind of be like if I decided to start buying every Barbra Streisand record from 1985 on. Actually it wouldn't be like that at all. 
This afternoon I went to the city, walked around the Fishermans Wharf area, got annoyed at rude tourists who have no idea how to deal with a sidewalk (mostly French people), or saying excuse me. Sure Europeans brought us great art, food and music, when it comes down to general manners and "street knowledge" they make me wish I had a Tazer Gun. Imagine the joy one would receive walking down a narrow sidewalk while a group of braless women and men in sandals stopped and blocked you from walking, ignoring you when you say excuse me if you pulled one of these out and just shocked them in the neck, their bright blue eyes staring at you in horror as they fall to the ground as the contents of their mesh bag spills on the filthy sidewalk!
I had an okay lunch (clam chowder and some fried oysters) at a small cafe off the pier and came to the conclusion that, aside from the delicious lunch I had in Monterey (Sesame crusted Mahi Mahi with a papaya mango salsa), seafood in New England is much better. For those keeping track so far, baseball and seafood are better in Massachusetts than in Northern California. The other thing that sucked in this area was I was trying to get this fucking picture taken but this guy in the bottom left was chatting on his cell so it was kind of ruined. With the awesome zoom on this new camera I have I got a good look at him. I mean he even looks like an asshole. What could be possibly be talking to the person on the other end about? Who has that hairdo?!
After this experience, I decided to get in the car and find something a little less...something. I sat on this beach with an amazing view of the Golden Gate Bridge for a bit and then made my way to Haight Street to find Amoeba Records. I was in there for maybe seven minutes before leaving, deciding I would wait until I get back to Los Angeles before worrying about buying music. I tried to find a good used book store but the parking meter only allowed one hour so I bailed. The area was a little much for me, definitely one of those areas where you need to have sunglasses on to avoid eye contact with anyone. Once you make eye contact people want something from you, money, cigarettes, to tell you their life story, etc. I'm definitely at a point in my life where filthy looking people need to be avoided at all costs.
This evening my friend Gena came and picked me up and we went to dinner in the city and she game me a great tour of the city. I had absolutely no idea where the hell we were half of the time, and my sense of direction was once again none existent in a foreign city. She was a great tour guide, we saw hookers, transvestites, stood behind the Macy's sign on the roof of a very tall building which was basically the outdoor patio of a restaurant I used the bathroom in, The Mission, Coit Tower and every other thing I didn't see by myself. She has a good sense of humor and isn't easily offended so that was refreshing, especially as for the majority of this trip so far my conversation (aside from talking on the cell phone) was limited to ordering food and checking into hotels.
I took a bunch more pictures, but as it's now 3:29 AM I should probably stop and deal with the rest of the pictures in a couple of days. Back to Los Angeles tomorrow morning. I'm taking the faster route (inland).
Yeah.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
I’m in South San Francisco now, too tired last night to do any writing. Yesterday I made my way from San Luis Obispo to Monterey along the Pacific Coast Highway. The drive was just long enough to start to grow tiresome, and short enough to not completely exhaust myself, and still have plenty of daylight to explore Cannery Row as well as some other areas of the beautiful Monterey seaside. After a brief breakfast at a chain restaurant where the hostess told me she “liked my ink”, I asked directions to Morro Bay, presumably forgetting I had my GPS thingy with me. I basically asked “will that road lead me to that big rock?”. The big rock in question was Morro Rock, a “volcanic plug” whatever that is (according to Wikipedia). The town was pretty cool, small and consistent with most of the towns on the water I encountered the last couple of days: fishermen types, surfers, laid back folk with blonde hair that probably know a thing or two about marijuana and Bermuda shorts. Here are some pics I took at the rock:
The rock, and then some surfer guy that looked like some sort of Russian villain from a James Bond film.
I drove a little more and came upon an area that said "elephant seal viewing area". I had no idea what this meant, and assumed there would be these gigantic seals on the beach doing tricks, etc. What I found basically looked like the Jim Jones massacre with a number of what I assumed were dead seals on the sand. After reading the little posts, this is apparently what they do...look dead.
The rock, and then some surfer guy that looked like some sort of Russian villain from a James Bond film.
I drove a little more and came upon an area that said "elephant seal viewing area". I had no idea what this meant, and assumed there would be these gigantic seals on the beach doing tricks, etc. What I found basically looked like the Jim Jones massacre with a number of what I assumed were dead seals on the sand. After reading the little posts, this is apparently what they do...look dead.
I guess they're cute. Who the fuck knows.
After this area, the drive got real long, a lot of desolate areas, amazing views as one would expect in this area of the country. One thing I noticed after a couple hours and miles and miles of intense cliffs and ocean views was how much you ignore what's going on to your right, mountains stretching up to the sky, vast emptiness where nobody has probably ever walked, and probably never will. The pictures kind of speak for themselves. Spotted that little lizard on the ground by the bridge.
Also, and I definitely don’t condone this kind of thing, but I took some video while driving, as well as at Bixby Bridge, which was kind of scary as I really hate heights. So yeah. The internet connection in this hotel is as useless as anything so I can’t load anymore pictures, I'll do more tomorrow.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Happy September 11th! Is that what you're supposed to say now? Probably not...
Haven’t been able to get on the internet in Los Angeles, now in the confines of this Days Inn I have a connection.
Got to Los Angeles Saturday afternoon, on my airplane from Dallas to Burbank was Jamie Farr from M.A.S.H. fame; he seemed like a nice guy, talking to some folks while waiting for his luggage, his nose is as big as you would think, so perhaps the camera doesn’t add anything to noses on the television.
It’s early in the morning of the second day of my “trip within a trip”. I’m driving up the coast to San Francisco, and although I haven’t seen much actual coast as a good chunk of the drive yesterday was inland, I did get to see vast vineyards, strawberry fields complete with Mexicans with those hats they wear, etc. I’m staying in San Luis Obispo, arrived here yesterday afternoon. It’s a nice little town with plenty of little shops, college kids with presumably bad ideas in their heads, breathtaking views of mountains surrounding it. Of course by the end of the night last night I end up in some little area with a Starbucks, The Gap, Barnes and Noble, etc. I did find a great used book store where I found a book on the Beach Boys and the Nixon book All the Presidents Men which I’ve wanted to read for a while.
Speaking of reading, last night I went out to the little patio they have here where you can smoke and sit at a little table and started reading this Cormac McCarthy book, No Country for Old Men which started off pretty frighteningly intense. I scare myself easy, so now when I’m driving through any areas that are devoid of humans I am probably going to think of this book and hope I don’t get trapped anywhere in the middle of nowhere.
When I arrived at this hotel yesterday I was walking up to my room and there was an older gentleman outside smoking, probably late 60’s, shorter than me, one of those button-up cowboy shirts, glasses with tinted lenses, kind of a hardened look of someone definitely from the west. We exchanged words, made a joke about not being able to smoke in the rooms and that was that. This morning I was up at 6:30 or so as I presume I’m still on Eastern time, I went outside to check out the Continental Breakfast (which is a scam right? I wonder if anyone has ever left a Continental Breakfast and said to themselves “wow, that coffee was delicious, and fuck, I’m full, I won’t be able to eat for another five hours. Those little muffins and the lukewarm milk really hit the spot” A far cry from the absolutely delicious omelet I had before I left Los Angeles yesterday, which I’ve just remembered was far too expensive. A $17.00 breakfast for one person. I ordered orange juice, and when the bill came it was $3.95. Jesus, come on. I guess I could make a joke about how it was a Jewish deli but I won’t make that joke.) and I’m sitting at the little table outside smoking and I see my little smoker cowboy friend from the previous day. He’s opening the back of a van with tinted windows, pulls out a black trash bag and goes back to his room. I’m thinking he’s either filling that with empty Coors Light cans, or with the parts of the waitress he drugged and mutilated last night. I guess that’s my cue to move along now.
Today, to Monterey, Carmel, Santa Cruz, etc. I’ll obviously take pictures today as this is when it’s supposed to start with the beautiful views, etc. It’s now a bit past 8:00 AM so I’m out.
Haven’t been able to get on the internet in Los Angeles, now in the confines of this Days Inn I have a connection.
Got to Los Angeles Saturday afternoon, on my airplane from Dallas to Burbank was Jamie Farr from M.A.S.H. fame; he seemed like a nice guy, talking to some folks while waiting for his luggage, his nose is as big as you would think, so perhaps the camera doesn’t add anything to noses on the television.
It’s early in the morning of the second day of my “trip within a trip”. I’m driving up the coast to San Francisco, and although I haven’t seen much actual coast as a good chunk of the drive yesterday was inland, I did get to see vast vineyards, strawberry fields complete with Mexicans with those hats they wear, etc. I’m staying in San Luis Obispo, arrived here yesterday afternoon. It’s a nice little town with plenty of little shops, college kids with presumably bad ideas in their heads, breathtaking views of mountains surrounding it. Of course by the end of the night last night I end up in some little area with a Starbucks, The Gap, Barnes and Noble, etc. I did find a great used book store where I found a book on the Beach Boys and the Nixon book All the Presidents Men which I’ve wanted to read for a while.
Speaking of reading, last night I went out to the little patio they have here where you can smoke and sit at a little table and started reading this Cormac McCarthy book, No Country for Old Men which started off pretty frighteningly intense. I scare myself easy, so now when I’m driving through any areas that are devoid of humans I am probably going to think of this book and hope I don’t get trapped anywhere in the middle of nowhere.
When I arrived at this hotel yesterday I was walking up to my room and there was an older gentleman outside smoking, probably late 60’s, shorter than me, one of those button-up cowboy shirts, glasses with tinted lenses, kind of a hardened look of someone definitely from the west. We exchanged words, made a joke about not being able to smoke in the rooms and that was that. This morning I was up at 6:30 or so as I presume I’m still on Eastern time, I went outside to check out the Continental Breakfast (which is a scam right? I wonder if anyone has ever left a Continental Breakfast and said to themselves “wow, that coffee was delicious, and fuck, I’m full, I won’t be able to eat for another five hours. Those little muffins and the lukewarm milk really hit the spot” A far cry from the absolutely delicious omelet I had before I left Los Angeles yesterday, which I’ve just remembered was far too expensive. A $17.00 breakfast for one person. I ordered orange juice, and when the bill came it was $3.95. Jesus, come on. I guess I could make a joke about how it was a Jewish deli but I won’t make that joke.) and I’m sitting at the little table outside smoking and I see my little smoker cowboy friend from the previous day. He’s opening the back of a van with tinted windows, pulls out a black trash bag and goes back to his room. I’m thinking he’s either filling that with empty Coors Light cans, or with the parts of the waitress he drugged and mutilated last night. I guess that’s my cue to move along now.
Today, to Monterey, Carmel, Santa Cruz, etc. I’ll obviously take pictures today as this is when it’s supposed to start with the beautiful views, etc. It’s now a bit past 8:00 AM so I’m out.
Friday, January 26, 2007
Just found this on my lap top. it's now January. I evidently wrote this on my way back. Anyway, yeah.
4:52 AM in the Atlanta Airport listening to Mario Lanza on the iPod and people are running around getting ready for their day of work, or perhaps finishing for the day.
Thankfully, Richard Reed (the shoebomber- I think that was his name) taught me well and I snuck matches on to the airplane so I could smoke in this disgusting smoking lounge here in Atlanta that I’ve been to on more than one occasion. I don’t think I even slept on the plane. I was on the aisle seat next to a friendly Mexican gentleman who at one point asked me if he could use his cell phone on the plane. A few more hours and I’ll be home. Feels like I’ve been gone for five weeks. I can’t remember what New England feels like.
Last week of the trip we went to a Dodgers game (they lost), met up with some of my father’s friends and went to Universal Music in Santa Monica where I caught up with an old friend that worked at Rounder. We also went to downtown Los Angeles and looked at the giant Catholic Church, and the Disney theatre which were designed by some famous architects whose names escape me right now. The last night of the trip I met up with Laura and Noel in Santa Monica and had a couple of beers and watched Noel have her fortune read by two Siamese cats. A good amount of freaks down there, but not as in-your-face as they are on say, Hollywood Boulevard.
So on the airplane there was a young kid, about 19 maybe. Middle Eastern looking. The fucking kid would not sit still. First, I notice he’s wearing a wrist thing that says “Jihad”, reading The Koran. He was shuffling through his bags over and over for the first hour or so. At one point when the stewardess passed him he took pictures with a disposable camera of the cockpit area, which with me being initially only a tiny bit freaked out was a bit of relief as I imagined he was probably in on a plan to blow up a different plane. Perhaps I should report this to someone? Maybe I watch Fox News too much.
4:52 AM in the Atlanta Airport listening to Mario Lanza on the iPod and people are running around getting ready for their day of work, or perhaps finishing for the day.
Thankfully, Richard Reed (the shoebomber- I think that was his name) taught me well and I snuck matches on to the airplane so I could smoke in this disgusting smoking lounge here in Atlanta that I’ve been to on more than one occasion. I don’t think I even slept on the plane. I was on the aisle seat next to a friendly Mexican gentleman who at one point asked me if he could use his cell phone on the plane. A few more hours and I’ll be home. Feels like I’ve been gone for five weeks. I can’t remember what New England feels like.
Last week of the trip we went to a Dodgers game (they lost), met up with some of my father’s friends and went to Universal Music in Santa Monica where I caught up with an old friend that worked at Rounder. We also went to downtown Los Angeles and looked at the giant Catholic Church, and the Disney theatre which were designed by some famous architects whose names escape me right now. The last night of the trip I met up with Laura and Noel in Santa Monica and had a couple of beers and watched Noel have her fortune read by two Siamese cats. A good amount of freaks down there, but not as in-your-face as they are on say, Hollywood Boulevard.
So on the airplane there was a young kid, about 19 maybe. Middle Eastern looking. The fucking kid would not sit still. First, I notice he’s wearing a wrist thing that says “Jihad”, reading The Koran. He was shuffling through his bags over and over for the first hour or so. At one point when the stewardess passed him he took pictures with a disposable camera of the cockpit area, which with me being initially only a tiny bit freaked out was a bit of relief as I imagined he was probably in on a plan to blow up a different plane. Perhaps I should report this to someone? Maybe I watch Fox News too much.
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