It would’ve been a good day to pack the Eons. Or something fuzzy and warm. Like a cat. Or just something bright yellow.
Heather, Kristen and I are loaded for bear and making our way out to Parallel Wine Bistro in Virginia. Making our way very, very slowly. Traffic is hideous because there’s a bit of drizzle. The day is grey and the cars are just crawling and the trucks towering on either side of us just increase the feeling of claustrophobia in the car, adding to the weight of the stacked Mackies and guitars and bags and cello. I’m updating the Journal, remembering the things that Heather mentions, wondering if we’re still having adventures or just working the job.Â
I certainly don’t take as many photographs anymore…
That’s traffic-induced depression typing. I still Love the job, Love playing. Heather’s introduced a new song to the band last night, we played with some other covers and things and generally the playing is every big as delicious as it ever was. I enjoy playing back and forth with Rowan’s rhythms, telling Sharif to STOP IT and the new wonder of jamming with Kristen’s musical proficiency. It all always makes homecoming even better.
We conversed about Halloween. I have terrible news. I think we might ALL dress up as Tom Cruise!
Ha, we were rained into the interior of Parallel which, if you’d asked me a couple of hours ago, I’d have said would mean Kristen would just have to sit on the sidelines – but somehow we made it work. Kristen and I played back to back most of the night, 80s glam-rock style and we had a great time. Jason (the owner) would like to have us as often as possible, as big and loud as possible… we’re trying not to get TOO excited about that because, for a short-range trip, it’s kind of far. And the space would be impossible for a fourth without being outside.
Anywho – time to worry about the NEXT show – and worrying I AM.
We’re booked at the Dogfish Head alehouses through a company called Last Call Entertainment. They’ve also booked us at a couple of other bars in the area and we most of those bars tell us that we’re the best thing on their roster. And so we don’t really question where Last Call puts us…. And don’t look too hard at the bookings… we sign the contracts and send them back, show up when we’re told to and rock as we’re wont to
do.
Tomorrow we’re playing Great Country Farms in Bluemont, VA and I was just looking at a video of what passes for normal in this exotic locale: there’s a Pumpkin Princess, forstarters. She arrives in a pumpkin coach. It is going to be a Medieval Theme weekend and kids will be encouraged to make princess crowns and cardboard shields. There is a giant bouncy pillow thing and corn kernals to swim through. There are creatures to pet and pumpkins to pick and hayrides to be had… and a pumpkin-eating dinosaur. Colour me highly concerned about what it is that we’re getting into.Â
Fortunately I’ve got a firm mattress to support my weary head. I hope to lose consciousness fas-
