Slowly Rowan and i make our way towards departure. My attention has been drawn to a song by Gordon Lightfoot called “On Susan’s Floor” which seems unduly appropriate: “Like crippled ships that made it | Through a storm and finally reached a quiet shore | The homeless found a home on Susan’s floor”. Perfect.
Neil, Weber’s drummer, has just built a bunch of “popcorn snares” and is filled with the horned excitement of rockin’ in Louisville, Kentucky. They’re probably one of the most charming bands in the universe and we’re always fortunate to stay with them. We have for them the uberLove.
Rowan playing kit in Louisville, KY.
Rowan learns the way of the Sunergos Bean at Sunergos Coffeehouse in Louisville, KY from one of the highly trained barristas. We concur that over the five years of touring, this place has the best coffee we’ve had anywhere in the country. Rowan Loves the espresso machine which was built in the 60s and requires a lot of finesse.
The Music City Bar & Grill in Nashville, TN.
Friday night we played first at the Saint Charles Coffeehouse and then with the Troubadours of Divine Bliss at the Shanti in St Louis, MO. Saturday night we played for many an hour with the Duck Tape Duo Trio (Quartet) at the Stagger Inn in Edwardsville, IL. As we didn’t get home from that till 3am (4am home-time) we just slept and slept through a lot of yesterday, rousing ourselves for some of Susan’s amazing soup, feeding our minds on Airplane! and Adult Swim and then eventually just going back to sleep again.
Dave Pahanish performing at the Music City Bar in Nashville, TN. As always, a great performer. Passionate and personable with old California, PA charm that has been sucked out by the vampiric parasitism of Nashville. Thank Kobol.
For the last couple of nights I’ve been crashed out in the laundry room, stringing my body parts between a dryer and an excercise bike, snuggling into the detergent-smelling warmth as the wind howls outside. The weather’s turned sharply on us and leaves and twigs fly and snap, tangling in the windchimes outside the window. Even now, with the
clarity of day, it’s obvious that summer’s given in and even fall is gasping tired. Winter’s tentatively grasping at the Midwest and our Thursday afternoon outdoors gig is looking like it will be an experiment in bundled jamming.
And Flash (AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!) may be a defender of the universe, but he certainly recognizes one of his kind. He can totally be in my army.
Rowan and I always appreciate quality time at Whitney and Freddie’s – and their animals always seem to appreciate our appreciation. Or at least they spend an awful lot of time sniffin’ us. I’d almost believe Katy missed us.
The birds have settled down for a moment, giving Rowan and I some quiet time to ourselves, with nothing but Bob’s silent attentions (he’s a fish, and a mild-mannered beast) and the tapping of our keyboards. Karma twitters on occassion but has made her way away from her sharper utterances and is just muttering unknowns at us.
Traveling with Rowan is very different from traveling with Heather. They both need to be let out more often than me – and whereas Heather would just snap up my car and go a wanderin’, Rowan prefers to load his computer on his back and go trekking in search of coffee and internet. It’s been cool to spend so much time with him – he’s always thinking, always problem solving – and it’s been interesting to spend so much time inside his head. He’s always intent on some sort of project or another, usually three or more actually – and for the past couple of days has been obsessively rebuilding his computer in-between bouts of helping me with rebuilding MINE as well as picking Susan’s brain for all manner of pie-crust-making knowledge. My brain is so scattered by comparison, taking half a minute (if I’m lucky) to come up with words and specific tidbits some days. Rowan’s skull seems to emulate the search engines he’s so affectionate towards, recalling all sorts of processes and esoteric facts.
Rowan and I at XDHX.
Before Stagger on Saturday we stopped in at Hometown Comics which is just next door to the bar. As usual, Rowan’s encyclopaedic knowledge was flaunting itself and he and the owner shot names of artists and writers and the webs of storylines all over one another. I could hold my own with role-playing games, but alas the conversation never turned that direction.
The show itself was great. Stagger Inn is usually a pretty brutal night – four hours of
Before Stagger on Saturday we stopped in at Hometown Comics which is just next door to the bar. As usual, Rowan’s encyclopaedic knowledge was flaunting itself and he and the owner shot names of artists and writers and the webs of storylines all over one another. I could hold my own with role-playing games, but alas the conversation never turned that direction.
…acts – and below, what gig would be complete without a Mona Lisa checking you out and a questionable stereotype African American fieldworker listening close.
Deanna, one of the revolving open mic hosts performing at the Chippewa Chapel at the Stable in St Louis, MO. As is usual with bars in the Saint Louis area, there’s something weird hanging from the ceiling, staring at us. To the right you can see a skeleton in a chair that surveys all of the..
The show itself was great. Stagger Inn is usually a pretty brutal night – four hours of playing with our tiny corner of fans being the sole source of constant encouragement, the rest of the bar swinging from noisy disinterest to rowdy enthusiasm several times over the course of the night.Saturday, with the Ducks taking the first hour, the show went by dazzlingly fast and I was almost ready for more… though I’m glad we didn’t push it as load-out was more exhausting than normal and I was ready to drop before we even got in the car.Curling into my happy laundry-smelling space, I didn’t gain consciousness the next day till well past noon. Big plans faltered into small plans which then disintegrated into sitting on the couch all day with our computers, ordering pizza and watching television. I was okay with that.
