beautiful, funny, sad & true

This picture was not made using Photoshop.  It was taken at the Cinemagic movie theater, while they were changing their sign from “Hancock” to “The Dark Knight.”

source

This entry is dedicated to my friend Mark, who couldn’t care less about the whole blogging ‘thing’, and who absolutely does not understand the impulse that people have to write and publish their little stories about their little lives. And who can blame him, really? For people who don’t like blogs, this is what mine probably looks like:

Blahblah life blahblah me blahblah Mark & John. Food blahblah music blahblah drinks with friends. Isn’t this funny/exciting/wacky/dangerous?

I went NumberTwo today. Here’s a picture of it. I’m just kidding. Isn’t that funny/wacky/crass? I’m such a kidder. Blahblah.

I like movies. I mean, really. Aren’t they good and stuff?

Blahblah JennyOrganCaseyMichaelMatt. Good times.

Blogging rules!

by Todd
the end

Yeah. . .I’d say that’s a pretty accurate description of our dinner last night. It’s too bad, too, because when you read between the lines, the night was very fun, and surprising, and long overdue. Here’s to many more nights like it.

Day Five was the shortest of our drives. Unfortunately, it was also the earliest show. We had a three-and-a-half-hour drive, and we had to be in Cedar City by 10:30 in the morning, so you can pretty much do the math on that. It was another crazy early morning. I was the first one up, at 5:45 again, so I took a shower and packed all up my stuff before anyone else was even awake. Then I took my camera out and went for a little walk to admire the scenery. I didn’t have to go far; just through Wendy’s orchard, actually.

When I returned, everyone else was up, and getting their stuff together to load up the van and head out. Wendy gave us huckleberry pie (or was it loganberry? Can’t quite remember. . .) and muffins, and then we raced off into the morning. We stopped at a truck stop along the way, where I saw two T-shirts that made me feel very disheartened with our society. They were marriage-related. One had stick-figure drawings of a smiling bride and a frowning groom above the caption, “Sentenced to life.” The other simply said, “All men are idiots, and I married their king.” Those made me really angry. I tried to imagine if I was married, and one day either my wife or I was wearing one of those shirts. Is the other person just supposed to laugh, or look away? I mean, if my theoretical wife wore a shirt that said, “my husband is the king of idiots”. . .well, actually, I don’t even need to finish that thought, because I’m NOT the king of idiots, and everyone who knows me (certainly anyone who’s likely to marry me) knows that very well.

Something else we found at this particular truck stop was hard-boiled eggs. We each bought a pack of two and devoured them, only to regret our decision about an hour later, when we all started to have stomach issues. We pulled over, ran inside, and absolutely destroyed the bathrooms at that next truck stop we arrived at. I hereby apologize to anyone who was in those bathrooms at the same time the three of us were.

But it wasn’t all eggs and poop. This was Utah, after all, so the scenery, even in the not-special areas, is breathtakingly beautiful. Breanna and I each took a lot of pictures just by rolling down the window of the van.

I’m sure there’s a way to get rid of those stupid power lines using Photoshop or something, but I don’t know how to do it, and the picture is pretty enough that I figured I’d include it nonetheless. Most of the pictures didn’t end up looking very good, but I managed to keep a few of my friends updated through pictures sent by text message also.

So finally we arrived in Cedar City, and we weren’t even very late. The sound crew had been working out some technical difficulties, so they were running a bit behind also. This bought us a little time to walk around, take pictures, get souvenirs, that sort of thing.

Each of the participating musicians got a T-shirt, but I splurged for a second one in a different color, and then I got a pin and a kazoo also. Breanna and Justin bought a frisbee, and a pin, and a nice little cloth bag. I walked around the grounds and talked for a while on the phone until Justin motioned for me that the group before us was almost done. We were the second group in the entire festival, so we watched the first group, tuned our instruments, and paced around the grassy backstage area.

Finally it was our turn. We were pretty nervous. We didn’t make any mistakes, but we just felt like mimes or something up there. There was one guy in the audience who kept yelling things to us. He wasn’t heckling us, but he was extremely drunk (incidentally, it was well before noon) and it was obnoxious. Luckily he liked us, or it could have been much worse. He clapped extremely slowly and out of time with the songs, on purpose. He also pointed at each of us in turn and yelled things like (to Breanna) “You have a really good voice!” and (to Justin) “Dude! You’re a really good guitar player!” and (to me, after I’d played a song on the melodica instead of the cello) “You’re good at. . .everything that. . .you do!” See what I mean? It was nice enough, but he still affected the flow of the show, and made us nervous.

So we finished our set and got off stage by about 1:30. We found the photographer guy who we’d been talking with earlier, and asked him to take a picture of us as soon as we put away our instruments.

It was really hot, and we were planning to be out and about for quite a while, so I wanted to go looking for a hat to protect myself from the sun. Breanna suggested that I wear her cowboy hat, which ended up looking really cool, so I wore it for the rest of the day, and actually got lots of compliments.

I know; I’m hot.

We were very relieved by the fact that we now had the rest of the day to ourselves. We went and checked into BestMotelInTheWest. There was an older couple checking in at the same time, who kept making jokes like, “Oh, we didn’t know that there would be live music in our room.” Ha ha. “Hey, that’s really great that we have musicians playing a free show just for us.” Ha ha. “Want to play us a song right here?” Ha ha.

After checking in, we went to our separate rooms and collapsed for a while. I unpacked my stuff and took a little mini-nap, and Justin and Breanna presumably did whatever young couples do when they’ve been cooped up in a van, or a house, or a studio apartment, for days on end, being constantly surrounded by at least one other person, then finally get some time to themselves. We met up afterwards, and walked over to get our complimentary meal at PizzaPlaceNamedAfterMafia. Naturally, our next plan was to find a bottle of wine or something for later.

That takes a bit of doing in Utah, where anything stronger than beer is controlled by the state, and has to be purchased at a liquor store. We were so sick of driving around in the van by this time that we were prepared to walk anywhere in Cedar City, no matter the distance or the heat. The nearest place was about a mile and a half away, and it was ninety-five degrees. Perfect.

Hey, look, it’s the Village People!

Nothing like a little shock value for the street full of locals driving by. But as you can see, I’m all about da ladeez. Howdy, ma’am. Much obliged.

So the three of us got what we wanted at the store, and then we walked the mile and a half back. We left our bounty in our respective motel rooms, and then went across the street to the festival to listen to some music and just check out The Scene a bit. We must have been there for a couple of hours, buying gifts, watching bands and getting more food, before we decided we were completely exhausted and done for the day. We headed back to the hotel, took some pictures. . .

. . .and then went our own ways. I can only imagine what those two ended up doing, but I talked on the phone with my friend again for about an hour and a half, and then watched cable TV shows, like Home Movies. The movie War Games also happened to be on, so I kept an eye on that while I wrote in my little notebook about the things I wanted to remember about the day. Things such as this; there are Gideon Bibles in just about every motel room in the country, but if you’re in a motel in Utah, you get a special bonus.

Hey, it’s a rock star’s life for me. Phone calls, Home Movies, War Games, the Book of Mormon. . .the debauchery just never ends.

Or DOES it? Find out for yourself in the next edition of. . .ON TOUR.

OneYearAgo

Day Two consisted of us driving from Breanna’s aunt’s house in Salem, Oregon down to Redding, California.  I did the lion’s share of the driving, all the way from Salem to the first rest stop after the California border, when Justin took over.  Although it was a clear and sunny day, Mt. Shasta was almost completely hidden by haze until we were practically right up next to it.  The little town of Mt. Shasta City is really pretty, and we only drove through it long enough to park and switch drivers, but I would love to explore it sometime.  Northern California is so pretty.  So I drove from there to Redding, where we had Gig #2.

I love that both Breanna’s and Karlee’s names are misspelled on the sign.

Karlee is none other than ViolinistKarlee, who plays with us often when she’s here in PDX, which is where she goes to school.  Her parents live in Redding, and they very generously welcomed us into their home.  There were many wildfires burning in Northern California at the time (there still are, as I’m writing this more than a week later), and the smoke in Redding was thick and acrid.  It was actually very uncomfortable to breathe outside, so we spent the whole time inside talking and eating.  Karlee made these amazing ‘wraps’, her own special fried potatoes, and an amazing grape salad.  Then it was time to leave for the show.

Karlee (on the left) cracks me up in that picture.  Don’t be fooled by her sweet and innocent exterior; just under the surface lurks a straight-up gangsta who can’t wait to pop a cap in yo’ ass.  I just look constipated.  What, you think we gangstas can’t have a little trouble wit da stool once in a while?  Sheit.

After the show, we went back to Karlee’s place and ate (I really should say ‘gorged ourselves on’) ice cream, pretzels, otter pops (made from real otters!  I’m lying.) and various other delectable treats while we watched DVD’s of Planet Earth.  What an amazing show.  We watched the episodes about mountains and about caves.  The cave one was particularly riveting.

Then we all crashed and went to bed.  Find out what happened in the morning in the next installment of. . .ON TOUR.

[EDIT, 6/7/08: For some reason, I’ve suddenly gotten a bunch of referrals from AOL to this particular entry, which is quite possibly the lamest throw-away entry in this entire blog. I’d like to invite you to the top of the blog, where you can read some real entries. Thank you.]

I just have time for a quick entry right now. I know you’ll be excited to know that my tag cloud over there is all up-to-date now; all entries are accounted for.

While I was at work yesterday afternoon, as if on cue, I got a text message from A that said, “How about a movie? My treat!” And yes, she’s also a beautiful girl. So although she didn’t read it, it’s as if my blog entry from yesterday came true. We went to see Persepolis, which was beautiful, and funny, and sad and true. We were completely enthralled by it.

Today I slept until 12:30 in the afternoon. Sheesh. I must have been even more run down this week than I realized.

Tonight is a house concert that my friend John is hosting, featuring John Vecchiarelli and Kristi Martel. It promises to be a blast. I was going to go and just listen, but I just now found out that I’ve been invited to bring my accordion and play with John V. on a song or two, which I’m totally looking forward to.

I’d better clean up and go, but I’m glad we had time for this little chat.