October 28th , 2004.

So – California , Pennsylvania . I Love this town – tiny and beautiful. We’ve driven through Pennsylvania at an ideal moment – summer cresting over into fall – California is hidden in a crook of the Monongahela River (one of the few rivers to flow South to North) mixed with mountains and logging communities. This gem would’ve remained undiscovered by us if we hadn’t run across Jozart’s open mic… we’ve mentioned it before. A fantastic venue, that keeps getting better with every visit. This is the first time we’ve been there when school was in session, and it really has grown in the few short months since we were there last.

The mountains of Northern Maryland... or perhaps Southern Pennsylvania - not quite sure how far you're seeing. — The mountains of Northern Maryland… or perhaps Southern Pennsylvania – not quite sure how far you’re seeing.

Farmland Northern Maryland, and the mountains of Southern Pennsylvania. Maybe.

Passing through "The Gap". Yes - this is where they mine the jeans. Heather says it's actually called Sidling Hill and that it's even better in the winter. — Passing through “The Gap”. Yes – this is where they mine the jeans. Heather says it’s actually called Sidling Hill and that it’s even better in the winter.

This time, their open mic contained the “Favourite Acoustic Performer of Pittsburgh”, Dave Pahanish. At first I was iffy – the man is built. His songs reference the fact that he’s a guitar playing football star. He… he is intimidating as Hell to a little rob like me – but his voice and his songwriting were beautiful. I was truly blown away. Songwriting in a very James Taylor, Jackson Browne tradition – with a voice like a cross between Ellis Paul, Jackson Browne, and Steve Perry from Journey.

After Jozarts, we followed the Jozarts crowd down the street (and around the corner, and under a bridge, and over a bridge) to Lagerheads, a bar where Dave is running HIS open mic, and we get to see him in full form, replete with electrical tape pedal board and miked cardboard box and … and… and you’ll understand if you see him. We’re bringing him home with us.

Nothing quite like Jozarts in the morning!

That night, we got to fulfil our dream of sleeping at Jozarts, and we retired to a foldout couch in the middle of the art and wood and tall-windowed beauty of what may well develop into my favourite … (coffeehouse? art gallery? tattoo studio? venue?) … place.

As we’re thinking vaguely about turning in, Dave actually drops in after wrapping up Lagerheads, and we end up putting on a little concert/swap session/mutual admiration party for Bish and Jay (the owners of Jozarts). We swap covers and thoughts and tips and music. Being so close and personal, I grew a whole new appreciation of Dave’s voice and finger-picking style. I still don’t think it’s right that you get to be a Sensitive Singer/Songwriter AND Big Football Player with Boyish Charm, but… Hell, what’re you gonna do?

Oh – note to self – old hard-wood floors – splintery as Hell. Wear your shoes.