It’s been a while since I’ve written, but I’m in the bad habit of writing only while we’re on the road, and we’ve been a little stationary recently. Never stagnant, but sometimes not racking up the miles. Probably not a bad thing, but both Heather and I were beginning to feel road sick not like motion sickness but like home sick.
It’s interesting how times have changed. A couple of years ago I wouldn’t have even contemplated taking the New Jersey Turnpike because it’s simply too damned expensive. Now we’re using it twice in one year to save some wear and tear on our minds and bodies, taking the most direct route betwixt Philly and Putnam, cutting through the heart of New York City – which actually will probably add that wear and tear on our minds at least right back in – but we’re headed north for a good cause, and we get to do Particle Accelerator once again, honouring someone we never met, but raising funds and awareness for a cause that’s certainly stolen a number of my friends and family : depression and suicide, specifically in the arts communities.
Funny. I still don’t know why it’s called Particle Accelerator.
The flats of Jersey are littered with the carcasses of rusting, dead gas stations and generically named bars. The casualties of shifting fortunes, this is the stretch of New Jersey that most people see, and it’s what earns it its bad name. There are parts that are beautiful, artistic, fun. The Turnpike corridor is NOT it. There’s joy to flat, clear highway – but it’s got nothing on the Midwest where the highway promises freedom at 75mph. Here it’s more like some sort of video game, where we’re racing against the clock, just waiting for a sneak attack of brake lights, construction, road kill, police attention. It’s like the calm rounding Yavin, locking S-foils into attack position, before diving into the trenches of the Cross Bronx Expressway.
We’re listening to Ani Difranco and Massive Attack and Songs : Ohia – it’s like a little blast from college and I’m reminded of my first trip up the Turnpike, before EZ Pass, stopping every dozen miles and pouring hard won quarters out the window of my 1981 VW Bus, helping my friends Will and Mary move to Providence, lizards and sculptures and art supplies in tow. Will was in the midst of an amateur taxidermy phase so a lot of what we were transporting consisted of dead, poorly cured fauna – and on a hot day in an aging Westphalia – it was a unique smell.
Last night we played JJ Tizou’s house concert – another blast from the past. I was JUST up here playing with Mosno, but prior to that, Heather and I haven’t played here since perhaps pre-Kristen. Over the years JJ’s really expanded his mission and in my mind at least, he’s a legendary activist fighting the good fight in West Philly. He’s built a pretty marvelous community around himself and that community’s supportive of the artists he brings in… it was a good night great food, a Lovely cat, a great crowd of great people – and we played hard. We were joined by a duo from NYC named My Antenna and the absolutely killer instrumentalist Sheltered Turtle. Henry (Sheltered Turtle) remains one of the most dazzling solo guitar instrumentalists I’ve had the fortune of seeing and I was really proud to share a stage with him.
Unfortunately, Heather’s pretty sick, coughing volcanically all every which where and that coupled with me being allergic to the WORLD this time of year makes us kind of a sticky band. Kristen seems okay. But Heather and I are a little viscous.
This morning JJ got up early and made us crepes to see us off and it’s important to note that Nutella can be purchased in industrial-sized portions if you’re charming enough.
I struggle more and more with whether or not I’m saying enough as an artist, or taking enough of a stand in the world. Hell, there’s no struggle – I KNOW I’m not. The only struggle is how to say more and what way I should disappoint people who think I safely think just like them. JJ makes a point of doing PSAs in between artists’ sets and last night was no exception – reminding us to break our hearts… OPEN… to the world, introducing us to a local independent politician (who unfortunately sounded like he was practicing a speech rather than actually delivering himself as a legit political animal) – he champions causes like Decarcerate Pennsylvania and any number of anti-hate groups (last time it was a rally against anti-Muslim ads on busses) – believe you me –if WE can draw people in and keep them there and give someone ELSE an important soapbox, I feel that legitimizes my own existence a little bit.
Fight the good fight my friends. We’re only here once.
