Not true, but you don't want to see all of those crappy shots.
site for pix:
http://picasaweb.google.com/makereadymusic
last post of pix was Nashville, I think.
Monday, September 3, 2007
Home Sweet Home
Monday, September 2
Home sweet home.
Whewwww … 16 days, 3000 miles (on the nose), 11 states. It’ll be nice to sleep in a familiar bed, but will be very hard to wake up and go to work on Tuesday.
Home sweet home.
Whewwww … 16 days, 3000 miles (on the nose), 11 states. It’ll be nice to sleep in a familiar bed, but will be very hard to wake up and go to work on Tuesday.
Day 17: Baseball, Food, Food, Baseball
Sunday, September 2, 2007
Miller Park/Pretty Lake, Wisconsin
By Craig
Sunday, September 2, 2007
Miller Park/Pretty Lake, Wisconsin
Can’t beat Bill and Tina’s downtown condo for convenience. After grabbing some Dunkin’ Donuts coffee a half a block away, we cruise up to the lakeshore to check out the (relatively) new (2001) Santiago Calitrava-designed addition at the Milwaukee Art Museum. Ahhh … gotta mix in a little bit of culture with the baseball. The addition is quite spectacular. I’d forgotten that the original part (1957) of the building was designed by Eero Saarinen. The museum has a pretty decent collection – well worth checking out if you’re in town. I was definitely impressed with the folk art/self-taught collection.
Enough damn culture. Now we’re off to Miller Park, which was built in 2001. Man, what a great baseball stadium. With each new park we visit, I’m dreading going back into the Metrodome to watch the Twins after this trip is over. (Not to mention that they’re continuing to lose – today it’s to Kansas City, tomorrow it will be to Cleveland again). Another pretty good game, Prince Fielder bangs out a 3-run homer (his 40th of the year) in the 6th inning and the Brew Crew beats the Pirates (arrrr … the pirate theme continues) 7-4. Highlight of the game: awesome bratwurst (Milwaukee IS sausage town), and a killer Italian beef sandwich with hot peppers.
After a smooth exodus from the stadium area, we’re headed about 20 miles west of Milwaukee and 15 minutes south to Pretty Lake. I haven’t seen my hometown buddy Eric Darling for about 11 years or so, but take advantage of this opportunity to see he and his wife Ellie and their kids Will and Katy. We’ve had wonderful hospitality at all of the stops we’ve made to visit folks, and the Pretty Lake visit is no exception. Ellie’s sister Sue and her husband Alan are visiting for the evening as well. There is much shrieking and laughter from the kids and the neighbor’s kids playing in the lake (while Bailey, the household dog goes nuts). The mosquitoes are pretty aggressive, so we take a pontoon ride on the lake. It’s gorgeous out there. Ellie and Alan stayed behind and by the time we return, there’s mixed grill on the table. More awesome sausages.
Then some more story telling (and, of course some joke telling – I’d forgotten that Eric probably should have ended up being a stand-up comic instead of a lawyer), and a bonfire on the beach. Eric and Will ceremonially burn their T-shirts. Eric coaches the all-star team that Will plays on. (Eric, you should have been a baseball coach instead of a lawyer). The early bedtime was much needed. This trip is wearing me out.
Miller Park/Pretty Lake, Wisconsin
By Craig
Sunday, September 2, 2007
Miller Park/Pretty Lake, Wisconsin
Can’t beat Bill and Tina’s downtown condo for convenience. After grabbing some Dunkin’ Donuts coffee a half a block away, we cruise up to the lakeshore to check out the (relatively) new (2001) Santiago Calitrava-designed addition at the Milwaukee Art Museum. Ahhh … gotta mix in a little bit of culture with the baseball. The addition is quite spectacular. I’d forgotten that the original part (1957) of the building was designed by Eero Saarinen. The museum has a pretty decent collection – well worth checking out if you’re in town. I was definitely impressed with the folk art/self-taught collection.
Enough damn culture. Now we’re off to Miller Park, which was built in 2001. Man, what a great baseball stadium. With each new park we visit, I’m dreading going back into the Metrodome to watch the Twins after this trip is over. (Not to mention that they’re continuing to lose – today it’s to Kansas City, tomorrow it will be to Cleveland again). Another pretty good game, Prince Fielder bangs out a 3-run homer (his 40th of the year) in the 6th inning and the Brew Crew beats the Pirates (arrrr … the pirate theme continues) 7-4. Highlight of the game: awesome bratwurst (Milwaukee IS sausage town), and a killer Italian beef sandwich with hot peppers.
After a smooth exodus from the stadium area, we’re headed about 20 miles west of Milwaukee and 15 minutes south to Pretty Lake. I haven’t seen my hometown buddy Eric Darling for about 11 years or so, but take advantage of this opportunity to see he and his wife Ellie and their kids Will and Katy. We’ve had wonderful hospitality at all of the stops we’ve made to visit folks, and the Pretty Lake visit is no exception. Ellie’s sister Sue and her husband Alan are visiting for the evening as well. There is much shrieking and laughter from the kids and the neighbor’s kids playing in the lake (while Bailey, the household dog goes nuts). The mosquitoes are pretty aggressive, so we take a pontoon ride on the lake. It’s gorgeous out there. Ellie and Alan stayed behind and by the time we return, there’s mixed grill on the table. More awesome sausages.
Then some more story telling (and, of course some joke telling – I’d forgotten that Eric probably should have ended up being a stand-up comic instead of a lawyer), and a bonfire on the beach. Eric and Will ceremonially burn their T-shirts. Eric coaches the all-star team that Will plays on. (Eric, you should have been a baseball coach instead of a lawyer). The early bedtime was much needed. This trip is wearing me out.
Day 16 part 2: Are we in New York? or is this Milwaukee?
Saturday night, September 1, 2007
Milwaukee
By Jamie
After a mighty fun afternoon of baseball (save for the bad experience at the Irish Oak) we have a slight change in plans for Saturday evening. We had planned to spend the night in Chicago after the game, but we couldn’t find a hotel for less than $350. Not worth it in our minds. Milwaukee is only an hour and a half away, and since the game was so early we decide to skip the night out in Chicago and head north. Craig is our designated driver for the day. (AKA, too hung over to choke down a drink.)
Once in Milwaukee we find my cousin’s place fairly easily. He (Bill) and his wife (Tina) are actually out of town themselves, but we’ve got a key to the condo. Nice place, great location. After unloading our stuff, we take a little break on the couches and watch “Clear and Present Danger.” Our tanks are pertnear empty. At this point, we’re pretty close to calling it a night. (Particularly hung over Craig.) I’m able to twist his arm a little and we do eventually decide to check out some of the local establishments.
There a smoky little dive bar called Jim’s Time Out right around the corner from Bill and Tina’s. Some good conversation with the barkeep, but it’s a little too smoky for me. My eyes are burnin’. After that, we do a little wandering around and find Mo’s Irish Pub. It’s an authentic Irish pub right across the street from Mo’s Trattoria, Mo’s Café and a couple other authentic places owned by the worldly Mo. It’s about as Irish an experience as we had earlier at the Irish Oak. It’s actually not a bad place. They pour a proper Guinness and the car bombs seemed right. However, instead of crappy non-Irish dance music out of a jukebox (a la Irish Oak), we’re treated to crappy non-Irish live music. The band was on break when we got there. As they came back, they say they’ve got a request for some Irish music and launch into Van Morrison. That was the entirety of the “Irish” portion of their set. An evening of pretty bad bar standards. I don’t know how many times we heard Mustang Sally on Beale Street, but it’s a bit too soon to hear it again.
One thought that had crossed my mind while in Chicago was how we hadn’t had any random sightings of people we know. This has been a fairly common occurrence in past travels and I’m surprised it hasn’t happened on such a long trip. The call was answered at Mo’s in Milwaukee. I ran into an old high school friend, Jeff. He’s in from Seattle for a bachelor party. (For some reason three bachelor parties came through Mo’s.) It was a very welcome surprise. Jeff is one of those guys you always wish you’d kept in touch with. Really nice and interesting guy. His crew is on the move, so we only have time to exchange a couple funny memories and email info. Good to see him.
After Mo’s we work our way back to B&T’s and make one last stop at a place called the New York Bar or something like that. It’s just like being in New York! Except not! Bad karaoke joint. Our karaoke senses have delivered us once again. It’s small, fairly empty, crappy sound and has a slim song selection, but it seems like an appropriate stop. I spew out Daydream Believer and Easy. Craig takes on Lay Down Sally. A fit ending to a (relatively) low-key evening.
OK, the actual ending was a snack at Dunkin’ Donuts and microwave sliders at Bill & Tina’s. Yes, sliders.
Bill and Tina are scheduled to get back into Milwaukee around 5:30 on Sunday. We had planned on staying there that night after the Brewers game. It would have been nice to actually see them, but it wasn’t meant to be. The road weariness is setting in and we decide that we’ll spend the next night west of Milwaukee at a friend of Craig’s. It will give Craig a chance to catch up, but it will also give us a head start on the long drive for Monday. Home is calling.
Milwaukee
By Jamie
After a mighty fun afternoon of baseball (save for the bad experience at the Irish Oak) we have a slight change in plans for Saturday evening. We had planned to spend the night in Chicago after the game, but we couldn’t find a hotel for less than $350. Not worth it in our minds. Milwaukee is only an hour and a half away, and since the game was so early we decide to skip the night out in Chicago and head north. Craig is our designated driver for the day. (AKA, too hung over to choke down a drink.)
Once in Milwaukee we find my cousin’s place fairly easily. He (Bill) and his wife (Tina) are actually out of town themselves, but we’ve got a key to the condo. Nice place, great location. After unloading our stuff, we take a little break on the couches and watch “Clear and Present Danger.” Our tanks are pertnear empty. At this point, we’re pretty close to calling it a night. (Particularly hung over Craig.) I’m able to twist his arm a little and we do eventually decide to check out some of the local establishments.
There a smoky little dive bar called Jim’s Time Out right around the corner from Bill and Tina’s. Some good conversation with the barkeep, but it’s a little too smoky for me. My eyes are burnin’. After that, we do a little wandering around and find Mo’s Irish Pub. It’s an authentic Irish pub right across the street from Mo’s Trattoria, Mo’s Café and a couple other authentic places owned by the worldly Mo. It’s about as Irish an experience as we had earlier at the Irish Oak. It’s actually not a bad place. They pour a proper Guinness and the car bombs seemed right. However, instead of crappy non-Irish dance music out of a jukebox (a la Irish Oak), we’re treated to crappy non-Irish live music. The band was on break when we got there. As they came back, they say they’ve got a request for some Irish music and launch into Van Morrison. That was the entirety of the “Irish” portion of their set. An evening of pretty bad bar standards. I don’t know how many times we heard Mustang Sally on Beale Street, but it’s a bit too soon to hear it again.
One thought that had crossed my mind while in Chicago was how we hadn’t had any random sightings of people we know. This has been a fairly common occurrence in past travels and I’m surprised it hasn’t happened on such a long trip. The call was answered at Mo’s in Milwaukee. I ran into an old high school friend, Jeff. He’s in from Seattle for a bachelor party. (For some reason three bachelor parties came through Mo’s.) It was a very welcome surprise. Jeff is one of those guys you always wish you’d kept in touch with. Really nice and interesting guy. His crew is on the move, so we only have time to exchange a couple funny memories and email info. Good to see him.
After Mo’s we work our way back to B&T’s and make one last stop at a place called the New York Bar or something like that. It’s just like being in New York! Except not! Bad karaoke joint. Our karaoke senses have delivered us once again. It’s small, fairly empty, crappy sound and has a slim song selection, but it seems like an appropriate stop. I spew out Daydream Believer and Easy. Craig takes on Lay Down Sally. A fit ending to a (relatively) low-key evening.
OK, the actual ending was a snack at Dunkin’ Donuts and microwave sliders at Bill & Tina’s. Yes, sliders.
Bill and Tina are scheduled to get back into Milwaukee around 5:30 on Sunday. We had planned on staying there that night after the Brewers game. It would have been nice to actually see them, but it wasn’t meant to be. The road weariness is setting in and we decide that we’ll spend the next night west of Milwaukee at a friend of Craig’s. It will give Craig a chance to catch up, but it will also give us a head start on the long drive for Monday. Home is calling.
Day 16: The day that Michigan football died (oh, yeah, the Cubbies won, too)
Sunday, September 1, 2007
Chicago
By Craig
Yep, sure enough, I’ve got a banging headache from my night out at Shuba’s. Nonetheless, I am up and at ’em, on-time for our rendezvous before the game. We actually have FREE tickets for today’s game, courtesy of Marie’s brother Mike. (Many, many thanks, Mike!). Since the Irish Oak isn’t serving breakfast yet (it’s part of Mike’s Wrigley routine, I think), we hit a perfect little diner for some grub. Personally, I’m quite pleased with this. Jamie, Brian and Mike are Celtophiles, but I am not really ready for potatoes and Guinness.
It’s another beautiful day at Wrigley. I’m functioning as the designated driver, so I’m not rocking the Old Style beer. The others buddy up with Alex the beer man early on, so all is good for our group. Jamie continues his home team streak as the Cubs beat the Astros 4-3.
Back at the Irish Oak after the game, all continues well for a while. Brian’s alma mater the Fighting Irish are not looking great, but he is elated that Michigan has lost to Appalachian State, a AA school.
I really should let Jamie write his rant here. This is not his best Irish Pub experience. Bad music, no meat on the chicken wings, and to top it off, the waitress tries to put the first round of drinks (which I paid for with cash) on Jamie’s Visa charge. Then she cops some serious attitude about having to fix her OWN mistake, and then it takes forever for us to wrap up the bill and get out of there.
Chicago
By Craig
Yep, sure enough, I’ve got a banging headache from my night out at Shuba’s. Nonetheless, I am up and at ’em, on-time for our rendezvous before the game. We actually have FREE tickets for today’s game, courtesy of Marie’s brother Mike. (Many, many thanks, Mike!). Since the Irish Oak isn’t serving breakfast yet (it’s part of Mike’s Wrigley routine, I think), we hit a perfect little diner for some grub. Personally, I’m quite pleased with this. Jamie, Brian and Mike are Celtophiles, but I am not really ready for potatoes and Guinness.
It’s another beautiful day at Wrigley. I’m functioning as the designated driver, so I’m not rocking the Old Style beer. The others buddy up with Alex the beer man early on, so all is good for our group. Jamie continues his home team streak as the Cubs beat the Astros 4-3.
Back at the Irish Oak after the game, all continues well for a while. Brian’s alma mater the Fighting Irish are not looking great, but he is elated that Michigan has lost to Appalachian State, a AA school.
I really should let Jamie write his rant here. This is not his best Irish Pub experience. Bad music, no meat on the chicken wings, and to top it off, the waitress tries to put the first round of drinks (which I paid for with cash) on Jamie’s Visa charge. Then she cops some serious attitude about having to fix her OWN mistake, and then it takes forever for us to wrap up the bill and get out of there.
Day 15: This is the way baseball should be played, HHH
Friday, August 31
Chicago
By Craig
I left Jamie in New Lenox so he could spend some quality family time, and headed into the city. Did a very short driving tour through the Loop area and a drive-by of Millennium Park. I’d hoped to spend some more time checking that out, but will have to do that on another Chicago visit. Headed straight to the Lincoln Park area, grabbed a parking spot and headed to Wrigley Field. After all, baseball is central to the theme of this trip, and Wrigley Field is certainly a shrine when it comes to the baseball experience. It’s a beautiful day, bright and sunny with a slight breeze. I score a nice seat and settle in. As I’m looking around, I see large patches of yellow in the crowd. I’d noticed a number of Hawkeye (University of Iowa, my alma mater) shirts, but had thought that was just the Chicago/U of I connection). The Hawkeye presence will be good to rub in Jamie’s face (he attended Iowa State University – Moo U), but quite frankly, I’m almost embarrassed by the size of this clique – and of course they’re all ripped and obnoxious by the 12:20 first pitch.
It’s a good game, when the last out comes around, I’ve blown our perfect home team record for the trip, with the Cubs losing 6-1. Rookie Hunter Pence of the Astros is almost single-handedly responsible, with 3 runs, 2 homers, and 5 RBIs. The guy behind me panicked at the 7th inning beer cutoff, bought about a dozen and offers up a free one to me. Not a bad day.
After a short stop at El Jardin for a margarita, I pick up some beverages to enjoy in my room (perfect location – Diversey at Clark) and chill out for a while. Then out for a little bit of neighborhood exploration by foot and a walk down Belmont to Shuba’s Tavern. The early show is Anders Parker – I’d heard of him, but hadn’t heard the music, so I thought It’d be a good show to see. And it was – Shuba’s can be a great place for a boisterous show, but it is absolutely perfect for a small, intimate experience. After the show I meet some locals and a couple of fellow tourists in the front bar, and after a few more drinks, decide to see the late show, a local band by the name of Camera. Not exactly my cup of tea, but they had a lot of projected visuals and the crowed was really inot it. Openers The Strange Young Lovers were some good shit-kicking cowboy rockers; the middle act Maradona was a pretty good time, too.
It’s been a long enough day at this point; I’m exhausted and head back to the room, dreading the 10 am wakeup call. Saturday’s Cubs game is a 12:05 start. Better have the aspirin ready.
Chicago
By Craig
I left Jamie in New Lenox so he could spend some quality family time, and headed into the city. Did a very short driving tour through the Loop area and a drive-by of Millennium Park. I’d hoped to spend some more time checking that out, but will have to do that on another Chicago visit. Headed straight to the Lincoln Park area, grabbed a parking spot and headed to Wrigley Field. After all, baseball is central to the theme of this trip, and Wrigley Field is certainly a shrine when it comes to the baseball experience. It’s a beautiful day, bright and sunny with a slight breeze. I score a nice seat and settle in. As I’m looking around, I see large patches of yellow in the crowd. I’d noticed a number of Hawkeye (University of Iowa, my alma mater) shirts, but had thought that was just the Chicago/U of I connection). The Hawkeye presence will be good to rub in Jamie’s face (he attended Iowa State University – Moo U), but quite frankly, I’m almost embarrassed by the size of this clique – and of course they’re all ripped and obnoxious by the 12:20 first pitch.
It’s a good game, when the last out comes around, I’ve blown our perfect home team record for the trip, with the Cubs losing 6-1. Rookie Hunter Pence of the Astros is almost single-handedly responsible, with 3 runs, 2 homers, and 5 RBIs. The guy behind me panicked at the 7th inning beer cutoff, bought about a dozen and offers up a free one to me. Not a bad day.
After a short stop at El Jardin for a margarita, I pick up some beverages to enjoy in my room (perfect location – Diversey at Clark) and chill out for a while. Then out for a little bit of neighborhood exploration by foot and a walk down Belmont to Shuba’s Tavern. The early show is Anders Parker – I’d heard of him, but hadn’t heard the music, so I thought It’d be a good show to see. And it was – Shuba’s can be a great place for a boisterous show, but it is absolutely perfect for a small, intimate experience. After the show I meet some locals and a couple of fellow tourists in the front bar, and after a few more drinks, decide to see the late show, a local band by the name of Camera. Not exactly my cup of tea, but they had a lot of projected visuals and the crowed was really inot it. Openers The Strange Young Lovers were some good shit-kicking cowboy rockers; the middle act Maradona was a pretty good time, too.
It’s been a long enough day at this point; I’m exhausted and head back to the room, dreading the 10 am wakeup call. Saturday’s Cubs game is a 12:05 start. Better have the aspirin ready.
Day 14: Didn't we pushpin Gary, Indiana?
Thursday, August 30
Cleveland to Chicago (actually New Lenox)
By Craig
We didn’t really allow enough time for proper analysis, but I might agree with a friend of mine’s (from the Cincinnati area) description of Cleveland as an armpit. Hoping to score a decent cup of coffee, we take city streets instead of the freeway out of town, but it’s not looking good. Plenty of dive bars to stop at, but we’ve got a pretty decent drive ahead of us and pass on those opportunities. Gas station java will do today.
The highlight of the day was almost getting a buzz haircut from a couple of crop dusting planes somewhere in the middle of Indiana. The Hoosier state fades by in no time.
Arriving in New Lenox, near Joliet, south of Chicago, we visit Jamie’s brother Brian, his wife Marie, and their 2-year old son, Cullen. It’s pretty cool to see how Cullen, who plays the shy game for awhile, warms up to his Uncle Jamie. It’s also a pleasure to meet Marie’s parents, Moss and Mary. They’re super-nice folks – both of them were born in Ireland and sport fairly thick (but understandable) accents. Marie was still at work, but got home early enough to hang out with the guys for awhile. This is probably the earliest bedtime we’ve experienced the entire trip.
Cleveland to Chicago (actually New Lenox)
By Craig
We didn’t really allow enough time for proper analysis, but I might agree with a friend of mine’s (from the Cincinnati area) description of Cleveland as an armpit. Hoping to score a decent cup of coffee, we take city streets instead of the freeway out of town, but it’s not looking good. Plenty of dive bars to stop at, but we’ve got a pretty decent drive ahead of us and pass on those opportunities. Gas station java will do today.
The highlight of the day was almost getting a buzz haircut from a couple of crop dusting planes somewhere in the middle of Indiana. The Hoosier state fades by in no time.
Arriving in New Lenox, near Joliet, south of Chicago, we visit Jamie’s brother Brian, his wife Marie, and their 2-year old son, Cullen. It’s pretty cool to see how Cullen, who plays the shy game for awhile, warms up to his Uncle Jamie. It’s also a pleasure to meet Marie’s parents, Moss and Mary. They’re super-nice folks – both of them were born in Ireland and sport fairly thick (but understandable) accents. Marie was still at work, but got home early enough to hang out with the guys for awhile. This is probably the earliest bedtime we’ve experienced the entire trip.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Day 13: Cleveland Rocks. (Again.)
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Cleveland
The main reason for our side trip to Cleveland is to see the Twins. This city is not known (by me) for its food. It is not known (by me) for its music, though it does boast the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. So, we have not done much research/planning for this leg of our trip. That’s OK. We haven’t had much down time in our travails, so this seems opportune.
After a good night’s sleep, we hit the pavement to walk to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. (Sidenote: we’ve been pleased overall with our lodging selections thus far, and including this trip. We’re staying right by the stadium, which makes sense given our plans and priorities.) The hall is just a walk up 9th street. On the way I get stopped and interviewed by OMM, an Ohio cable channel. Ohio Media something or other. Apparently the headline in the news that day is about how Cleveland had improved from the 1st poorest big city in the nation to the 4th. I offer congratulations and that, in the four blocks of the city I’ve seen, I don’t notice that it’s particularly poor. I’m sure to make the final cut. It also turns out that I’ve lied. This city does seem to have more than its share of panhandlers. I think the main measuring stick (if not the only measuring stick) for “poorest big city in the nation” is median family income, but this surely can’t be a good sign.
We make our way to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum and it’s quite a spectacle. It’s a pyramid (with appendages) right on the Ohio River. The museum itself is filled with an amazing amount of memorabilia, costumes, instruments, etc. It really is a deep pool of “stuff.” Big things like the ZZ Top eliminator car to hand-written notes by Mick Jagger on how to record a song. It’s entirely possible I’m getting a little burned out on music history by this point, but I feel like the Country Music HOF presented the information in a more cohesive manner. That experience (particularly the building itself) overall seemed more digestible. Maybe I was jaded by the $20 price tag (which, incidentally, did not include the tour of the Johnny Cash tour bus they had parked out front -- $2 extra). Like I said, by this point I’m probably jaded by m any factors.
After the Hall (don’t get me wrong, it was a very enjoyable experience), we’ve got a couple hours to kill before the Twins play. Craig and I grab our axes (guitars) and walk up the block to do some pickin’. We find a little shaded green area and set up for an hour or so. The spot we’re in is not a high-traffic spot. We’re clearly not trying to shill for gas money. We do get a few passers-by, but nothing too exciting. My personal highlight was when a woman panhandler came up and interrupted as we’re both playing (and I’m singing) and asks if we’ve got any change. We saw this woman no less than six times throughout the day/night. We were almost the rare case of street musicians losing money while performing.
After our pickin’, we’re off to the game. Santana vs. Sabathia. Both teams’ aces. It should be a fantastic game. The first inning implies otherwise. Santana gives up four runs, including two dingers (one of which I maintain was not, in fact, a home run) in the FIRST INNING, while throwing 42 pitches. Things do settle down. Johan ends up making it through the sixth inning. The Twins chip away and get to 4-3, but can’t bring in the runners when it counts. Twins lose. Get swept in the three game series. We had hoped our mojo meant well for the team for which we were rooting (during our previous games on this trip, they had all won), but it turns out our mojo was inadvertently being applied to the home team specifically. (During our previous minor league games, we had rooted for the home team.) Damn you, mojo. How you confuse me. We did chat it up with the father of Carmen Cali, a recently-called-up Twins pitcher. Nice guy.
After the game, we stopped to check out some New Orleans funk at one of the bars near the hotel/stadium. (Ivan Neville on keyboards.) The music was good, but nothing outstanding. Most of the bars around here seem to be about the same. Another short night out.
That’s when I discovered our cheese resources had been depleted back at the hotel. I didn’t actually care, but I was a little confused. When the hell is Craig eating all this cheese? It turns out that during Craig’s nightly computer maintenance rigmarole after I’ve gone to sleep, he’s been snacking. Mystery solved. That said, the large pepperoni pizza was a welcome surprise an hour and a half later. (Craig may claim I sent him out to get a snack. Really he wanted to go out for another drink.)
For a moment, this trip seemed to be about survival. Food supplies running low. Limited contact with outside world. I don’t like the way Craig is looking at me. It’s like that Seinfeld episode where Newman looks at Kramer and sees a turkey. Something in his eyes. Crazy eyes.
Thank God for pizza.
Cleveland
The main reason for our side trip to Cleveland is to see the Twins. This city is not known (by me) for its food. It is not known (by me) for its music, though it does boast the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. So, we have not done much research/planning for this leg of our trip. That’s OK. We haven’t had much down time in our travails, so this seems opportune.
After a good night’s sleep, we hit the pavement to walk to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. (Sidenote: we’ve been pleased overall with our lodging selections thus far, and including this trip. We’re staying right by the stadium, which makes sense given our plans and priorities.) The hall is just a walk up 9th street. On the way I get stopped and interviewed by OMM, an Ohio cable channel. Ohio Media something or other. Apparently the headline in the news that day is about how Cleveland had improved from the 1st poorest big city in the nation to the 4th. I offer congratulations and that, in the four blocks of the city I’ve seen, I don’t notice that it’s particularly poor. I’m sure to make the final cut. It also turns out that I’ve lied. This city does seem to have more than its share of panhandlers. I think the main measuring stick (if not the only measuring stick) for “poorest big city in the nation” is median family income, but this surely can’t be a good sign.
We make our way to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum and it’s quite a spectacle. It’s a pyramid (with appendages) right on the Ohio River. The museum itself is filled with an amazing amount of memorabilia, costumes, instruments, etc. It really is a deep pool of “stuff.” Big things like the ZZ Top eliminator car to hand-written notes by Mick Jagger on how to record a song. It’s entirely possible I’m getting a little burned out on music history by this point, but I feel like the Country Music HOF presented the information in a more cohesive manner. That experience (particularly the building itself) overall seemed more digestible. Maybe I was jaded by the $20 price tag (which, incidentally, did not include the tour of the Johnny Cash tour bus they had parked out front -- $2 extra). Like I said, by this point I’m probably jaded by m any factors.
After the Hall (don’t get me wrong, it was a very enjoyable experience), we’ve got a couple hours to kill before the Twins play. Craig and I grab our axes (guitars) and walk up the block to do some pickin’. We find a little shaded green area and set up for an hour or so. The spot we’re in is not a high-traffic spot. We’re clearly not trying to shill for gas money. We do get a few passers-by, but nothing too exciting. My personal highlight was when a woman panhandler came up and interrupted as we’re both playing (and I’m singing) and asks if we’ve got any change. We saw this woman no less than six times throughout the day/night. We were almost the rare case of street musicians losing money while performing.
After our pickin’, we’re off to the game. Santana vs. Sabathia. Both teams’ aces. It should be a fantastic game. The first inning implies otherwise. Santana gives up four runs, including two dingers (one of which I maintain was not, in fact, a home run) in the FIRST INNING, while throwing 42 pitches. Things do settle down. Johan ends up making it through the sixth inning. The Twins chip away and get to 4-3, but can’t bring in the runners when it counts. Twins lose. Get swept in the three game series. We had hoped our mojo meant well for the team for which we were rooting (during our previous games on this trip, they had all won), but it turns out our mojo was inadvertently being applied to the home team specifically. (During our previous minor league games, we had rooted for the home team.) Damn you, mojo. How you confuse me. We did chat it up with the father of Carmen Cali, a recently-called-up Twins pitcher. Nice guy.
After the game, we stopped to check out some New Orleans funk at one of the bars near the hotel/stadium. (Ivan Neville on keyboards.) The music was good, but nothing outstanding. Most of the bars around here seem to be about the same. Another short night out.
That’s when I discovered our cheese resources had been depleted back at the hotel. I didn’t actually care, but I was a little confused. When the hell is Craig eating all this cheese? It turns out that during Craig’s nightly computer maintenance rigmarole after I’ve gone to sleep, he’s been snacking. Mystery solved. That said, the large pepperoni pizza was a welcome surprise an hour and a half later. (Craig may claim I sent him out to get a snack. Really he wanted to go out for another drink.)
For a moment, this trip seemed to be about survival. Food supplies running low. Limited contact with outside world. I don’t like the way Craig is looking at me. It’s like that Seinfeld episode where Newman looks at Kramer and sees a turkey. Something in his eyes. Crazy eyes.
Thank God for pizza.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
All is forgiven when pizza is delivered
I can understand Jamie's frustration. Some folks have a need to be somewhere at some particular time. It happens to me, too occasionally. Not a priority for me on this trip.
But we've smoothed things out. Yes, I should have reported in and signed the check list on the cooler. I ate the last of the cold cuts and cheese that Kristi packed for us a couple of days ago. Jamie is hungry and he's whining. So I walked down the block, had a beer and met a few fellow tourists (this is not at all a local's neighborhood), and brought a big-ass pizza back to the room.
Problem solved. We're still pals. But I'll still have to deal with the fumes tomorrow morning.
Goodbye Cleveland. Hello Chicago.
(posted some time early in the morning on some day of the week)
But we've smoothed things out. Yes, I should have reported in and signed the check list on the cooler. I ate the last of the cold cuts and cheese that Kristi packed for us a couple of days ago. Jamie is hungry and he's whining. So I walked down the block, had a beer and met a few fellow tourists (this is not at all a local's neighborhood), and brought a big-ass pizza back to the room.
Problem solved. We're still pals. But I'll still have to deal with the fumes tomorrow morning.
Goodbye Cleveland. Hello Chicago.
(posted some time early in the morning on some day of the week)
The fighting begins
OK, if you know Craig at al, you'll understand my problem.
If I have to answer any of these questions multiple times within 30 seconds, I'm going to smother the sonofabitch in his sleep:
1) Where are we?
2) What day is it?
3) When are we leaving this town?
Let me recount a conversation from a few days ago (from a Saturday in Nashville):
JP:
If we leave here on Monday, then we'll have a night Louisville before we get to Cleveland on Wednesday.
CP:
What day is today?
JP:
Saturday.
CP:
So, we're only staying two nights here?
JP:
No, today is Saturday. If we leave on Monday, we'll have been here three nights.
CP:
What day is today?
JP:
Saturday. We want to be in Cleveland by Wednesday to see the Twins.
CP:
So we're only staying here two nights?
JP:
No. If we leave on Monday, that will have been three nights.
CP:
Wait, what day is today?
This is merely a snippet of the conversation. And this conversation is very similar to many conversations that have take place this trip. I can't say that is is exaclty verbatim, but it's pretty friggin' close.
The only reason I'm posting this now is because we just had a mock argument about where all the cheese went (he ate it).
I love that guy. I'll be sorry to hear his death gurgle.
If I have to answer any of these questions multiple times within 30 seconds, I'm going to smother the sonofabitch in his sleep:
1) Where are we?
2) What day is it?
3) When are we leaving this town?
Let me recount a conversation from a few days ago (from a Saturday in Nashville):
JP:
If we leave here on Monday, then we'll have a night Louisville before we get to Cleveland on Wednesday.
CP:
What day is today?
JP:
Saturday.
CP:
So, we're only staying two nights here?
JP:
No, today is Saturday. If we leave on Monday, we'll have been here three nights.
CP:
What day is today?
JP:
Saturday. We want to be in Cleveland by Wednesday to see the Twins.
CP:
So we're only staying here two nights?
JP:
No. If we leave on Monday, that will have been three nights.
CP:
Wait, what day is today?
This is merely a snippet of the conversation. And this conversation is very similar to many conversations that have take place this trip. I can't say that is is exaclty verbatim, but it's pretty friggin' close.
The only reason I'm posting this now is because we just had a mock argument about where all the cheese went (he ate it).
I love that guy. I'll be sorry to hear his death gurgle.
Bombs Away
by Craig
Anyone who has traveled with me knows that if you're sharing a hotel room it's a good idea to bring along earplugs. Let me give y'all a little advice if you're rolling with Jamie Parker: bring a freakin' gas mask.
Anyone who has traveled with me knows that if you're sharing a hotel room it's a good idea to bring along earplugs. Let me give y'all a little advice if you're rolling with Jamie Parker: bring a freakin' gas mask.
Day 12: Cleveland Rocks (the Twins)
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Louisville to Cleveland
By Jamie
Since we got into Louisville rather late, we didn’t have much time to do the daytime-type stuff. A tour of the Louisville Slugger factory and museum seems like an obvious must-do. They even have a batting cage, so CP and I both take ten swings. It takes a little getting used to catch up with the 40 mph hardball heat, but we held our own. The factory tour is interesting. Most non-MLB bats are made of ash. Most MLB bats are maple. Ideal number of grain lines per inch: eight. The logo should be facing up when you make contact. There’s no crying in baseball.
It’s almost six hours from Louisville to Cleveland, so that takes up most of our day. Pretty uneventful drive.
We’re a little road-weary by the time we hit Cleveland, but we’re ready to cheer on the Twins. I was reminded earlier in the trip how lucky we are with our local music scene. I’ve also been reminded how crappy we have it with the Metrodome. I love going to watch the Twins play, but that stadium is sorely lacking. Jacobs Field is great. Of course it helps that it’s outdoor. The game doesn’t quite go the way we were hoping. Boof gave up a couple dingers and the Twinks get themselves into a 6-3 deficit. The ninth inning rally falls up short. Cleveland wins 6-5. We did see a couple spectacular plays by Denny Punto and Torii. (OK, we didn’t actually see Torii’s catch live as it was blocked by the wall, but we were there for it.) Even in a loss, it was still fun.
Time for a brief pit stop on the walk to the hotel. That’s about it. An early evening is in order. Our batteries need a little recharging.
Louisville to Cleveland
By Jamie
Since we got into Louisville rather late, we didn’t have much time to do the daytime-type stuff. A tour of the Louisville Slugger factory and museum seems like an obvious must-do. They even have a batting cage, so CP and I both take ten swings. It takes a little getting used to catch up with the 40 mph hardball heat, but we held our own. The factory tour is interesting. Most non-MLB bats are made of ash. Most MLB bats are maple. Ideal number of grain lines per inch: eight. The logo should be facing up when you make contact. There’s no crying in baseball.
It’s almost six hours from Louisville to Cleveland, so that takes up most of our day. Pretty uneventful drive.
We’re a little road-weary by the time we hit Cleveland, but we’re ready to cheer on the Twins. I was reminded earlier in the trip how lucky we are with our local music scene. I’ve also been reminded how crappy we have it with the Metrodome. I love going to watch the Twins play, but that stadium is sorely lacking. Jacobs Field is great. Of course it helps that it’s outdoor. The game doesn’t quite go the way we were hoping. Boof gave up a couple dingers and the Twinks get themselves into a 6-3 deficit. The ninth inning rally falls up short. Cleveland wins 6-5. We did see a couple spectacular plays by Denny Punto and Torii. (OK, we didn’t actually see Torii’s catch live as it was blocked by the wall, but we were there for it.) Even in a loss, it was still fun.
Time for a brief pit stop on the walk to the hotel. That’s about it. An early evening is in order. Our batteries need a little recharging.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Day 11: Going Batty
Monday, August 27, 2007
Nashville to Louisville
By Jamie
So long, Nashville. After we check out, we swing by Arnold’s for some lunch. Fantastic cafeteria-style soul food. Absolutely recommended, but they’re not open very often, so be careful. After some grubbin’ fried chicken (Craig ordered the mystery meat, which turned out to be liver), we’re on the road to Kan-tucky. We had hoped to do a Maker’s Mark tour along the Bourbon trail, but all the distilleries were closed up by the time we rolled through. We were able to get in to the Oscar Getz Museum of Whiskey. It’s an interesting building in Bardstown, the Creation Site for all things bourbon. For the record, the US gov’t has decreed that “bourbon” must be:
1) made in the USA
2) 51-79% corn
3) the rest is barley, rye and malt
4) aged in charred oak barrels
I expect Craig will have his own special exhibit in the museum some day. Bardstown is a quant small town with lots-o-history. More good-people time at the coffee shot near the museum. The lady was pleased as punch to chat us up and pour us some of her home brewed iced tea. We were her #1 customers. She told us so.
Bardstown was a bit off the interstate and about 35 miles south of Louisville. Rather than go back to the interstate, we take the smaller road, state highway 31. Glad we did. It’s a beautiful drive.
I thought Louisville was a medium-sized college town, but as we roll in, it’s clearly bigger than I expected. We got a little turned around in the city (Jamie’s fault) so it took us some driving around to find out hotel. After we get checked in, we hop a cab and head to Louisville Slugger Field to see the Louisville Bats take on the Toledo Mud Hens. More AAA ball. The stadium is fantastic. It was built in 2000 and it’s a really great setup. Bats win 3-2, making us 3-0 in the teams we’re rooting for. We fully expect that to carry through to the Twins in the second and third games of their series in Cleveland.
Side note: I’m still flabbergasted Craig doesn’t know who Tony Gwynn is. We saw Tony Gwynn Jr playing for the Nashville Sounds.
After the game, we flag another cab and head to Headliners to see the Meat Puppets. The opener was The Only Children. Craig bought a record of theirs, which he, of course, lost. Neither of us are huge Meat Puppet aficionados, but the show is really good. As I’m standing there enjoying the music, I look over and see Will Oldham sitting there. We have a brief chat. Apparently he’s living in the area.
After the music’s finished, we start chatting with a small group of nice folks and we all head over to Molly Malone’s. We haven’t done a car bomb in a few days, so this seems like a good idea. More basic hanging around and we stop at a couple other bars near Molly Malone’s. There are all sorts of Irish pubs in this area. Must be a lot of Micks nearby.
Our stop in Louisville is a quick one. Just one night. Barely enough time to stink up the hotel room. Still, it was enough.
Nashville to Louisville
By Jamie
So long, Nashville. After we check out, we swing by Arnold’s for some lunch. Fantastic cafeteria-style soul food. Absolutely recommended, but they’re not open very often, so be careful. After some grubbin’ fried chicken (Craig ordered the mystery meat, which turned out to be liver), we’re on the road to Kan-tucky. We had hoped to do a Maker’s Mark tour along the Bourbon trail, but all the distilleries were closed up by the time we rolled through. We were able to get in to the Oscar Getz Museum of Whiskey. It’s an interesting building in Bardstown, the Creation Site for all things bourbon. For the record, the US gov’t has decreed that “bourbon” must be:
1) made in the USA
2) 51-79% corn
3) the rest is barley, rye and malt
4) aged in charred oak barrels
I expect Craig will have his own special exhibit in the museum some day. Bardstown is a quant small town with lots-o-history. More good-people time at the coffee shot near the museum. The lady was pleased as punch to chat us up and pour us some of her home brewed iced tea. We were her #1 customers. She told us so.
Bardstown was a bit off the interstate and about 35 miles south of Louisville. Rather than go back to the interstate, we take the smaller road, state highway 31. Glad we did. It’s a beautiful drive.
I thought Louisville was a medium-sized college town, but as we roll in, it’s clearly bigger than I expected. We got a little turned around in the city (Jamie’s fault) so it took us some driving around to find out hotel. After we get checked in, we hop a cab and head to Louisville Slugger Field to see the Louisville Bats take on the Toledo Mud Hens. More AAA ball. The stadium is fantastic. It was built in 2000 and it’s a really great setup. Bats win 3-2, making us 3-0 in the teams we’re rooting for. We fully expect that to carry through to the Twins in the second and third games of their series in Cleveland.
Side note: I’m still flabbergasted Craig doesn’t know who Tony Gwynn is. We saw Tony Gwynn Jr playing for the Nashville Sounds.
After the game, we flag another cab and head to Headliners to see the Meat Puppets. The opener was The Only Children. Craig bought a record of theirs, which he, of course, lost. Neither of us are huge Meat Puppet aficionados, but the show is really good. As I’m standing there enjoying the music, I look over and see Will Oldham sitting there. We have a brief chat. Apparently he’s living in the area.
After the music’s finished, we start chatting with a small group of nice folks and we all head over to Molly Malone’s. We haven’t done a car bomb in a few days, so this seems like a good idea. More basic hanging around and we stop at a couple other bars near Molly Malone’s. There are all sorts of Irish pubs in this area. Must be a lot of Micks nearby.
Our stop in Louisville is a quick one. Just one night. Barely enough time to stink up the hotel room. Still, it was enough.
Favorite bathroom graffiti
- Poop here (Murphy’s in Memphis. Written on the basin with an arrow pointing towards the stool.)
- I’ve seen a million feces, and I flushed them all. (Some bar in Memphis.)
- I’ve seen a million feces, and I flushed them all. (Some bar in Memphis.)
Favorite Ed Quotes
- I was never to be a man in need of a cone.
- I hate taxes, man. I don’t even like the letters T-A-X. Except for the A and the X.
- I hate taxes, man. I don’t even like the letters T-A-X. Except for the A and the X.
Close down the honky tonks
Day 10 – Nashville
August 27, 2007
by Craig
Rise ‘n shine, cowboys. Jamie was up at the crack of 10 and stepped out for a head start on the day, checking out the Frist (closed) and previewing Arnolds (closed); I went for the extra naptime to prepare for another day as a tourist. Noon breakfast today is barbeque at Jack’s on Broadway. Just a short walk out the backdoor is the Ryman Auditorium, the “Mother Church of Country Music.” It was home to the Grand Ole Opry for fifty-some years before they moved that show to a lame auditorium/complex northeast of downtown.
We are definitely doing well at this point in terms of soaking up some music history, and we’re still a couple of days away from Cleveland and the Rock and Roll part of the lesson. Next stop, RCA Studio B. It’s kind of like the Sun Studios tour, not really a whole lot to see, but lots of history. Lots of HITS. 1,000 top ten hits. 45,000 songs recorded. Forty-some top ten hits recorded there by Mr. Presley. He liked that place. It was kind of cool to sit down at the Steinway where he wrote songs and warmed up before late night recording sessions. The studio is in the heart of Music Row. Nothing too interesting to see here, it’s just a bunch of office buildings (and recording studios) where the Business of music happens day-to-day. Writing songs, managing publishing rights, distribution, etc. To me, it’s kind of a reminder of how soul-less and banal “country” music is today.
After a short nap, we’re ready to shift gears and see some baseball. We do some more work on Jamie’s throwing (read: Craig chasing the ball) in the parking lot at Greer Stadium to see the Nashville Sounds play the Oklahoma City Redhawks. It’s AAA ball, a pretty decent game. This stadium is about thirty years old, so it’s got pretty good character. I’m ashamed to say so, but we left early (top of the eighth) with the score tied 0-0. Listening on the radio, we hear the Sounds win 1-0.
We had a good excuse to leave early – it’s hard to get a seat at the Bluebird Cafe, even on Sunday nights, which is a kind of tryout night for the regular gigs. The Bluebird is famous as a starting place for many of Nashville’s finest songwriters. Imagine sitting about eight feet from Guy Clark, Steve Earle and Townes Van Zandt playing in the round, trading songs. The songwriters we saw weren’t all that great, in fact we agreed that some kind of sucked. Still, it’s cool to check out a venue where The Song is king.
I thought we were headed for an early (midnight or so) retirement for the evening, but noooo. Mr. Parker convinces me that we gotta do some honky-tonkin’ on Broadway, so, hey, I can be talked into that. First stop: Tootsie’s Orchid Lounge. It’s a legendary watering hole that is just steps from the backstage of the Ryman – in fact, we’re told that the stage manager from the Ryman would often have to come in here to drag Hank back across the alley for his segment on the Opry.
For me, it kind of turns sour here. The place is packed with frat boys, and the band downstairs is playing some crappy pop song when we walk in. So we head upstairs to escape, and that band is rippin’ it up with some Van Halen. Doing a great job of it, mind you, but this is NOT what I came to Nashville to do. Things improve a bit when the singer does a nice job with my Patsy Cline request. On down the street to Roberts, where we see a great trio with a Bakersfield Sound thing going on and a rippin’ git-picker squeezing lick after lick out of his Telecaster. One more stop – Legends. Could just be bad memory or sleep deprivation, but all I can remember about the band we saw there is that they were lame and the bass player was about 4 feet 2.
August 27, 2007
by Craig
Rise ‘n shine, cowboys. Jamie was up at the crack of 10 and stepped out for a head start on the day, checking out the Frist (closed) and previewing Arnolds (closed); I went for the extra naptime to prepare for another day as a tourist. Noon breakfast today is barbeque at Jack’s on Broadway. Just a short walk out the backdoor is the Ryman Auditorium, the “Mother Church of Country Music.” It was home to the Grand Ole Opry for fifty-some years before they moved that show to a lame auditorium/complex northeast of downtown.
We are definitely doing well at this point in terms of soaking up some music history, and we’re still a couple of days away from Cleveland and the Rock and Roll part of the lesson. Next stop, RCA Studio B. It’s kind of like the Sun Studios tour, not really a whole lot to see, but lots of history. Lots of HITS. 1,000 top ten hits. 45,000 songs recorded. Forty-some top ten hits recorded there by Mr. Presley. He liked that place. It was kind of cool to sit down at the Steinway where he wrote songs and warmed up before late night recording sessions. The studio is in the heart of Music Row. Nothing too interesting to see here, it’s just a bunch of office buildings (and recording studios) where the Business of music happens day-to-day. Writing songs, managing publishing rights, distribution, etc. To me, it’s kind of a reminder of how soul-less and banal “country” music is today.
After a short nap, we’re ready to shift gears and see some baseball. We do some more work on Jamie’s throwing (read: Craig chasing the ball) in the parking lot at Greer Stadium to see the Nashville Sounds play the Oklahoma City Redhawks. It’s AAA ball, a pretty decent game. This stadium is about thirty years old, so it’s got pretty good character. I’m ashamed to say so, but we left early (top of the eighth) with the score tied 0-0. Listening on the radio, we hear the Sounds win 1-0.
We had a good excuse to leave early – it’s hard to get a seat at the Bluebird Cafe, even on Sunday nights, which is a kind of tryout night for the regular gigs. The Bluebird is famous as a starting place for many of Nashville’s finest songwriters. Imagine sitting about eight feet from Guy Clark, Steve Earle and Townes Van Zandt playing in the round, trading songs. The songwriters we saw weren’t all that great, in fact we agreed that some kind of sucked. Still, it’s cool to check out a venue where The Song is king.
I thought we were headed for an early (midnight or so) retirement for the evening, but noooo. Mr. Parker convinces me that we gotta do some honky-tonkin’ on Broadway, so, hey, I can be talked into that. First stop: Tootsie’s Orchid Lounge. It’s a legendary watering hole that is just steps from the backstage of the Ryman – in fact, we’re told that the stage manager from the Ryman would often have to come in here to drag Hank back across the alley for his segment on the Opry.
For me, it kind of turns sour here. The place is packed with frat boys, and the band downstairs is playing some crappy pop song when we walk in. So we head upstairs to escape, and that band is rippin’ it up with some Van Halen. Doing a great job of it, mind you, but this is NOT what I came to Nashville to do. Things improve a bit when the singer does a nice job with my Patsy Cline request. On down the street to Roberts, where we see a great trio with a Bakersfield Sound thing going on and a rippin’ git-picker squeezing lick after lick out of his Telecaster. One more stop – Legends. Could just be bad memory or sleep deprivation, but all I can remember about the band we saw there is that they were lame and the bass player was about 4 feet 2.
Nashville Cats
Day 8-9 - Nashville
Fri Aug 25 – Sat Aug 26
by Craig
When John Sebastian penned “Nashville Cats” in 1967, he says “There’s thirteen hundred and fifty two guitar pickers…” in the town. Basic math skills and US census figures would put the number at more like 2,500 today. I’d believe it. And that doesn’t even count the fiddlers, pedal steel players and mandolin players. This IS Music City, no doubt about it.
After a quick stop by Taylor’s Vintage Guitars, the Memphis to Nashville leg of the trip had one more required stop – Gus’s World Famous Chicken in Mason, Tennessee (birthplace of Isaac Hayes). Nothing like spicy fried chicken for breakfast. Gus does it up right. Or rather did it up right; he died this past July, but has passed down the recipe to his kids – they’re doing a fine job.
We rolled into town about a half hour too late to see an in-store performance at Grimey’s records, but that was a good place to get our bearings. (Gotta love the clerks in independent stores – they’ll usually hook you up with some good places to check out.) Met up with my friend Mary Sack at South 5th Tap Room for happy hour and met her friends Rodney and Earl. All music biz folks – imagine that in this town. After a pretty quick stop to check in at the room, we headed for Mercy Lounge to see a show. One of the few that we’d actually planned in advance to see, and it was a great one. Jason Isbell (formerly of Drive By Truckers) headlined the show, but the highlight was Centromatic (from Denton, TX). Will Johnson was more animated than I have ever seen him, and the band was really tight. Great club, too – good sound, sightlines, a balcony/patio with a view of downtown. The opening act Sons of Roswell is a pretty hard rocking bunch of young kids from Muscle Shoals, Alabama – they kicked out some real fine southern fried boogie.
Our self-imposed curfew was about 3:30 in this city; the 6 am, 4:30 am bedtimes in Memphis were beginning to take a toll. So, up and out bright and early (about noon), we hit Robert’s Western Wear on Broadway for chicken wings and jalapeño poppers for breakfast. If you’re going to hit just one of the spots on Broadway, go for Robert’s. Then a stroll down Broadway with a stop in at Gruhn’s guitars, a visit to Hatch Show Print (a must-do), and we were off to the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum.
That place is incredible. Of course the history of country music is quite rich, but the artifacts, information, displays and even the building itself (built in 2001) are top notch. Bill Monroe’s Gibson mandolin; Hank Williams’ Martin guitar; Gram Parson’s nudie-designed stage costume … . The Ray Charles exhibit in the special exhibits section was an unexpected treat as well.
No going out to the bars for us on a Saturday night. Instead, we accepted a gracious invitation to join Mary and her boyfriend Ed for dinner on the patio at their home just west of Nashville. It’s funny, I’ve only met Mary a couple of times -- SXSW in 2002, and another quick hello in Austin in 2004. But she just seems like a dear old friend. And Ed – well, that dude is quite a character. He’d been marinading the meat since early Saturday morning, and judging by the 18 or so empty cans of Miller Light (by the way, the dog’s name is Miller) on display, he’d got a pretty early start in that department, too. Earl and his new girlfriend Erin stopped by to say hello; Earl played some piano for us, Ed philosophized and provided trivia tidbits and historical background on Nashville, and a good time was had by all.
Fri Aug 25 – Sat Aug 26
by Craig
When John Sebastian penned “Nashville Cats” in 1967, he says “There’s thirteen hundred and fifty two guitar pickers…” in the town. Basic math skills and US census figures would put the number at more like 2,500 today. I’d believe it. And that doesn’t even count the fiddlers, pedal steel players and mandolin players. This IS Music City, no doubt about it.
After a quick stop by Taylor’s Vintage Guitars, the Memphis to Nashville leg of the trip had one more required stop – Gus’s World Famous Chicken in Mason, Tennessee (birthplace of Isaac Hayes). Nothing like spicy fried chicken for breakfast. Gus does it up right. Or rather did it up right; he died this past July, but has passed down the recipe to his kids – they’re doing a fine job.
We rolled into town about a half hour too late to see an in-store performance at Grimey’s records, but that was a good place to get our bearings. (Gotta love the clerks in independent stores – they’ll usually hook you up with some good places to check out.) Met up with my friend Mary Sack at South 5th Tap Room for happy hour and met her friends Rodney and Earl. All music biz folks – imagine that in this town. After a pretty quick stop to check in at the room, we headed for Mercy Lounge to see a show. One of the few that we’d actually planned in advance to see, and it was a great one. Jason Isbell (formerly of Drive By Truckers) headlined the show, but the highlight was Centromatic (from Denton, TX). Will Johnson was more animated than I have ever seen him, and the band was really tight. Great club, too – good sound, sightlines, a balcony/patio with a view of downtown. The opening act Sons of Roswell is a pretty hard rocking bunch of young kids from Muscle Shoals, Alabama – they kicked out some real fine southern fried boogie.
Our self-imposed curfew was about 3:30 in this city; the 6 am, 4:30 am bedtimes in Memphis were beginning to take a toll. So, up and out bright and early (about noon), we hit Robert’s Western Wear on Broadway for chicken wings and jalapeño poppers for breakfast. If you’re going to hit just one of the spots on Broadway, go for Robert’s. Then a stroll down Broadway with a stop in at Gruhn’s guitars, a visit to Hatch Show Print (a must-do), and we were off to the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum.
That place is incredible. Of course the history of country music is quite rich, but the artifacts, information, displays and even the building itself (built in 2001) are top notch. Bill Monroe’s Gibson mandolin; Hank Williams’ Martin guitar; Gram Parson’s nudie-designed stage costume … . The Ray Charles exhibit in the special exhibits section was an unexpected treat as well.
No going out to the bars for us on a Saturday night. Instead, we accepted a gracious invitation to join Mary and her boyfriend Ed for dinner on the patio at their home just west of Nashville. It’s funny, I’ve only met Mary a couple of times -- SXSW in 2002, and another quick hello in Austin in 2004. But she just seems like a dear old friend. And Ed – well, that dude is quite a character. He’d been marinading the meat since early Saturday morning, and judging by the 18 or so empty cans of Miller Light (by the way, the dog’s name is Miller) on display, he’d got a pretty early start in that department, too. Earl and his new girlfriend Erin stopped by to say hello; Earl played some piano for us, Ed philosophized and provided trivia tidbits and historical background on Nashville, and a good time was had by all.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
More pics are up...
We're still behind in our pics. I think some of these are now out of chronological order. And they're not grouped into days, as before. Oh well.
Saint Louis:
http://picasaweb.google.com/makereadymusic/Day4SaintLouis
Memphis:
http://picasaweb.google.com/makereadymusic/Day567Memphis
Saint Louis:
http://picasaweb.google.com/makereadymusic/Day4SaintLouis
Memphis:
http://picasaweb.google.com/makereadymusic/Day567Memphis
Day 7: The sights and the sounds of Memphis
August 23, 2007
By Jamie
Today begins with a nice casual pace. Nothing too rigid of course, but we definitely have some things we want to get accomplished. We get out of the hotel around 11:00 and head to Sun Studio, the birthplace of rock and roll. It was a really interesting tour. The building itself if quite small, but you get to stand in the studio where it all happened. Elvis, Johnny Cash, Howlin’ Wolf, etc. The list is long. As can be the case, the tour guide made the tour. Her passion for the music she was talking about and playing for us was evident. (We would find out later that night that she plays bass and was a musician in the background of the movie Walk the Line.)
A great start to the day. Time for more BBQ. This time we head back into downtown to the Rendezvous. As we head into the restaurant, the greeter informs us “We’re not officially open yet. We don’t open until 4:30. All we have right now are ribs, baked beans and bread.” That sounded pretty open to us, so we ordered up some ribs. Good stuff, but overall I’d say the place was a little overpriced. I hate to be dissin’ Memphis, but the clear BBQ leader thus far remains Gate’s back in KC. Still, it’s all been delicious.
Off to the next stop with newly filled bellies. A lot of things are grouped within walkable areas, so that helps. It is pretty darn warm down here. It’s hit a hunn’rt degrees for like ten straight days. But it hasn’t been oppressive and it hasn’t really slowed us down. However, between the high temperatures, the expanding belly and the meat sweats, I’m contemplating a complete wardrobe shift to muumuus.
Also downtown it the Lorraine Motel, which is now the site of the Civil Rights Museum. The Lorraine Motel is where MLK was shot. The museum is in two parts. The first half is about the civil rights movement as a whole. It’s a big museum with tons of information. It got to be a lot of reading, but it was interesting. The second half of the museum is more specific to the assassination itself. You get to see the actual room James Earl Ray shot from as well as artifacts and info. As with the first half there was probably more details than can be digested in one visit, but definitely worth the trip.
After the Lorraine we went down to Stax Museum of American Soul Music. Stax was a killer soul label in the 60’s and 70’s. Otis Redding, Al Green, Isaac Hayes and all that good stuff. Like the Sun tour, it was cool to hear about what a magical and creative time it must have been. Great place. It was also interesting to hear about it all within the context of what else was happening at the time in society. The artists at Stax were one, big funky family working together to make great music. Blacks and whites alike. Color didn’t seem to matter within those walls, but outside segregation and inequality were the norm. When MLK was shot, animosity grew between the races within Stax and eventually contributed to the studio closing down in 1975.
Side note: if you’re ever in Memphis, turn the dial to 89.9 WEVL. Awesome station. Stream it.
Our day is passing by nicely. We don’t have time (or the energy) for the tour, but we do a drive-by of Graceland. After our Elvis experience, we go to a couple really cool record shops (Goner Records and Shangri-La). Did the blind faith recommendation of the shop guys and picked up some local flavor. We also got the same recommendation from both on music to check out that evening.
At this point we’re rather fatigued. We stop near the record shop for a tasty soul food meal of catfish and then head back to the hotel for a break. At one point, we had pretty much decided a nice early night in would do us some good. Then around 11:00 we thought better and went back to the Buccaneer to see the Tearjerkers. Local band. Garage rock stuff with some indie/rockabilly/surf mixed in here and there. Really fun show.
After some rocking and/or rolling we figure we’d better venture on to one last place. We walk up Madison Ave to the P&H Café. Big place. As with most of the bars we’ve checked out there was almost no one there. We have a good time chatting it up with Jim Ed (whom we had also met the night before doing karaoke, and who also happens to be another tour guide at the Gibson factory), Shannon (former Marine who's now a cop) and Matt (damn fine bartender). As I’d mentioned before, bar time in Memphis is 3:00. (The exception being Alex’s.) Needless to say we were surprised to notice the clock says 4:30. Our self-imposed curfew has failed. I guess time flies when you’re having fun.
Three for three in Memphis.
By Jamie
Today begins with a nice casual pace. Nothing too rigid of course, but we definitely have some things we want to get accomplished. We get out of the hotel around 11:00 and head to Sun Studio, the birthplace of rock and roll. It was a really interesting tour. The building itself if quite small, but you get to stand in the studio where it all happened. Elvis, Johnny Cash, Howlin’ Wolf, etc. The list is long. As can be the case, the tour guide made the tour. Her passion for the music she was talking about and playing for us was evident. (We would find out later that night that she plays bass and was a musician in the background of the movie Walk the Line.)
A great start to the day. Time for more BBQ. This time we head back into downtown to the Rendezvous. As we head into the restaurant, the greeter informs us “We’re not officially open yet. We don’t open until 4:30. All we have right now are ribs, baked beans and bread.” That sounded pretty open to us, so we ordered up some ribs. Good stuff, but overall I’d say the place was a little overpriced. I hate to be dissin’ Memphis, but the clear BBQ leader thus far remains Gate’s back in KC. Still, it’s all been delicious.
Off to the next stop with newly filled bellies. A lot of things are grouped within walkable areas, so that helps. It is pretty darn warm down here. It’s hit a hunn’rt degrees for like ten straight days. But it hasn’t been oppressive and it hasn’t really slowed us down. However, between the high temperatures, the expanding belly and the meat sweats, I’m contemplating a complete wardrobe shift to muumuus.
Also downtown it the Lorraine Motel, which is now the site of the Civil Rights Museum. The Lorraine Motel is where MLK was shot. The museum is in two parts. The first half is about the civil rights movement as a whole. It’s a big museum with tons of information. It got to be a lot of reading, but it was interesting. The second half of the museum is more specific to the assassination itself. You get to see the actual room James Earl Ray shot from as well as artifacts and info. As with the first half there was probably more details than can be digested in one visit, but definitely worth the trip.
After the Lorraine we went down to Stax Museum of American Soul Music. Stax was a killer soul label in the 60’s and 70’s. Otis Redding, Al Green, Isaac Hayes and all that good stuff. Like the Sun tour, it was cool to hear about what a magical and creative time it must have been. Great place. It was also interesting to hear about it all within the context of what else was happening at the time in society. The artists at Stax were one, big funky family working together to make great music. Blacks and whites alike. Color didn’t seem to matter within those walls, but outside segregation and inequality were the norm. When MLK was shot, animosity grew between the races within Stax and eventually contributed to the studio closing down in 1975.
Side note: if you’re ever in Memphis, turn the dial to 89.9 WEVL. Awesome station. Stream it.
Our day is passing by nicely. We don’t have time (or the energy) for the tour, but we do a drive-by of Graceland. After our Elvis experience, we go to a couple really cool record shops (Goner Records and Shangri-La). Did the blind faith recommendation of the shop guys and picked up some local flavor. We also got the same recommendation from both on music to check out that evening.
At this point we’re rather fatigued. We stop near the record shop for a tasty soul food meal of catfish and then head back to the hotel for a break. At one point, we had pretty much decided a nice early night in would do us some good. Then around 11:00 we thought better and went back to the Buccaneer to see the Tearjerkers. Local band. Garage rock stuff with some indie/rockabilly/surf mixed in here and there. Really fun show.
After some rocking and/or rolling we figure we’d better venture on to one last place. We walk up Madison Ave to the P&H Café. Big place. As with most of the bars we’ve checked out there was almost no one there. We have a good time chatting it up with Jim Ed (whom we had also met the night before doing karaoke, and who also happens to be another tour guide at the Gibson factory), Shannon (former Marine who's now a cop) and Matt (damn fine bartender). As I’d mentioned before, bar time in Memphis is 3:00. (The exception being Alex’s.) Needless to say we were surprised to notice the clock says 4:30. Our self-imposed curfew has failed. I guess time flies when you’re having fun.
Three for three in Memphis.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Day 6: Krusty in Memphis
August 22, 2007
By Jamie
6:00?!? What the hell were we thinking? There’s a whole heckuva lot to do in Memphis. We’re clearly not destined to get to much of it today. After our late night/early morning we slept in until 1 or 2:00 in the afternoon. This is actually our first stop where we’ll be staying more than one night, so we take advantage by spreading our crap all over the room. And we stink. I’m pretty sure Craig pooped in his bed, but he won’t own up to it. And I’m not willing to check.
After we finally get into gear, we mosey out of the hotel and head to a diner called the Arcade for some grub. (Breakfast?) Pretty standard fare, but it’s a cool place. Oldest diner in Memphis or something like that. I think it’s been around since 1919. The Arcade is south of downtown and there’s ready street parking there, so it seems like a good place to leave our cars while we check some things out around town. A short trolley ride brings us back into the Beale area. Our first stop is the Southern Folklore store. Lots of neat rustic tchotchkes that will make Kristi mad if brought home. Our next stop is a tour of the Gibson guitar factory. Gibson has three factories: Memphis, Nashville and Bozeman, MT. Memphis is where all the semi-hollow body electrics are made. The tour was really cool. The tour guide was certainly informative, but it was clear she’s given the tour a bajillion times. I want to add another father/son project to my dad’s list and figure out how to make a guitar. After the tour we did some casual strolling about town including a walk through the Peabody. The Peabody is famous for the pomp and circumstance surrounding some ducks they have in their fountain. They roll out the red carpet at 11:00 and 5:00 when they bring the ducks in and out. We saw the ducks, but not the little show. I will forever be disappointed. (Ducks?!? Walking?!? That’s unbelievable!!!)
We’ve got some time to kill before our next museum visit so we take a pit stop back on Beale Street at Silky O’Sullivan’s. A quick drink helps take the edge off our stressful day. Not a fantastic place, but the people are nice and the live blues is enjoyable. (Overall I’d say the bars owned by Carson are better – Rum Boogie, Pig, etc.)
After Silky’s we head to the Memphis Rock and Soul Museum. It’s a very informational place with lots of cool artifacts. New Orleans may have invented jazz, but Memphis didn’t do too bad by coming up with soul and rock & roll. (Basically gospel and blues came together to form soul. Country and blues came together to form rock & roll. And it all happened here.) A good little history lesson.
Time to get out of downtown. We hop in the car and head over to the Cooper-Union neighborhood. Neat area with cool independent shops, restaurants and bars. By this time the stores we wanted to check out are already closed. The bars are open. We stop into the Young Avenue Deli to do some planning. I sip on a PBR. Craig’s excited because they’ve got Schlitz. The Greek bartender is very friendly (pretty much everyone here has been) and he’s eager to tell us stories of forlorn love. The guy’s a talker.
On our way back to the hotel we stop off at Murphy’s for a quick car bomb. The name is a bit of a misnomer as it’s more of a punk rock band than an Irish pub. The place is essentially empty. It takes us around two hours to make our quick stop. As usual, the bartender and the two other patrons are very friendly, so we have another nice discussion and get more scoop on Memphis. Two of the gals were in a band called the Whoremones, an all-girl Ramones cover band. What a simple and brilliant name. One of the bartenders owns an old school cop car that he uses to pull over his friends. Of course this is a nice photo opp for us and hopefully the only time on the trip I’ll be bent over a cop car.
Time for some more BBQ. There’s a Top’s right by the hotel, so we stop in and fill the void. Top’s is a chain down here and it’s basically fast food barbecue. Pretty decent though.
Next stop: the Buccaneer. It’s a pirate-themed (loosely) bar in a converted house. Cool place. This is where we get our first taste of the local indie music scene. Most of the bars we’ve gone to are on our list because they “sometimes” have live music, but this is the first one to come through. I get the impression the indie music scene is rather small here with a leaning towards punk/garage/rootsy. (The scale of it is a pleasant reminder of how good we’ve got it in Mpls/StP.) Can’t remember the name of the band that was playing but they were an entertaining psychobilly trio. There was some crazy old lady hopping around who had the hots for Craig. Her arm was in a sling, but she was sure flinging it around a lot. I think maybe she put it on with the assumption she would eventually fall and hurt herself. She was also accompanied by a strapping young buck who was looking out for her. He pretty much stood at attention the whole time. Nice enough guy, but he didn’t seem any too comfortable with either the setting or his assignment. Maybe both. It was confusing.
After the Buccaneer, we went to Neil’s. Rather unremarkable place. But they did have shuffleboard. Craig got his rematch. Same result, sucka. We probably would have moved on, but the other side of the bar had karaoke. I did Mama Tried (again) and To Love Somebody. Craig broke out some new material with a fabulous rendition of Brandy.
After a late start, we managed to pack in a lot of stops in our day. Even so, we kept it a (relatively) early night as we had a litany of things to tackle the next day. OK, so it was still 3:00. I’d say we’ve successfully eased ourselves into the Memphis experience and found our stride.
By Jamie
6:00?!? What the hell were we thinking? There’s a whole heckuva lot to do in Memphis. We’re clearly not destined to get to much of it today. After our late night/early morning we slept in until 1 or 2:00 in the afternoon. This is actually our first stop where we’ll be staying more than one night, so we take advantage by spreading our crap all over the room. And we stink. I’m pretty sure Craig pooped in his bed, but he won’t own up to it. And I’m not willing to check.
After we finally get into gear, we mosey out of the hotel and head to a diner called the Arcade for some grub. (Breakfast?) Pretty standard fare, but it’s a cool place. Oldest diner in Memphis or something like that. I think it’s been around since 1919. The Arcade is south of downtown and there’s ready street parking there, so it seems like a good place to leave our cars while we check some things out around town. A short trolley ride brings us back into the Beale area. Our first stop is the Southern Folklore store. Lots of neat rustic tchotchkes that will make Kristi mad if brought home. Our next stop is a tour of the Gibson guitar factory. Gibson has three factories: Memphis, Nashville and Bozeman, MT. Memphis is where all the semi-hollow body electrics are made. The tour was really cool. The tour guide was certainly informative, but it was clear she’s given the tour a bajillion times. I want to add another father/son project to my dad’s list and figure out how to make a guitar. After the tour we did some casual strolling about town including a walk through the Peabody. The Peabody is famous for the pomp and circumstance surrounding some ducks they have in their fountain. They roll out the red carpet at 11:00 and 5:00 when they bring the ducks in and out. We saw the ducks, but not the little show. I will forever be disappointed. (Ducks?!? Walking?!? That’s unbelievable!!!)
We’ve got some time to kill before our next museum visit so we take a pit stop back on Beale Street at Silky O’Sullivan’s. A quick drink helps take the edge off our stressful day. Not a fantastic place, but the people are nice and the live blues is enjoyable. (Overall I’d say the bars owned by Carson are better – Rum Boogie, Pig, etc.)
After Silky’s we head to the Memphis Rock and Soul Museum. It’s a very informational place with lots of cool artifacts. New Orleans may have invented jazz, but Memphis didn’t do too bad by coming up with soul and rock & roll. (Basically gospel and blues came together to form soul. Country and blues came together to form rock & roll. And it all happened here.) A good little history lesson.
Time to get out of downtown. We hop in the car and head over to the Cooper-Union neighborhood. Neat area with cool independent shops, restaurants and bars. By this time the stores we wanted to check out are already closed. The bars are open. We stop into the Young Avenue Deli to do some planning. I sip on a PBR. Craig’s excited because they’ve got Schlitz. The Greek bartender is very friendly (pretty much everyone here has been) and he’s eager to tell us stories of forlorn love. The guy’s a talker.
On our way back to the hotel we stop off at Murphy’s for a quick car bomb. The name is a bit of a misnomer as it’s more of a punk rock band than an Irish pub. The place is essentially empty. It takes us around two hours to make our quick stop. As usual, the bartender and the two other patrons are very friendly, so we have another nice discussion and get more scoop on Memphis. Two of the gals were in a band called the Whoremones, an all-girl Ramones cover band. What a simple and brilliant name. One of the bartenders owns an old school cop car that he uses to pull over his friends. Of course this is a nice photo opp for us and hopefully the only time on the trip I’ll be bent over a cop car.
Time for some more BBQ. There’s a Top’s right by the hotel, so we stop in and fill the void. Top’s is a chain down here and it’s basically fast food barbecue. Pretty decent though.
Next stop: the Buccaneer. It’s a pirate-themed (loosely) bar in a converted house. Cool place. This is where we get our first taste of the local indie music scene. Most of the bars we’ve gone to are on our list because they “sometimes” have live music, but this is the first one to come through. I get the impression the indie music scene is rather small here with a leaning towards punk/garage/rootsy. (The scale of it is a pleasant reminder of how good we’ve got it in Mpls/StP.) Can’t remember the name of the band that was playing but they were an entertaining psychobilly trio. There was some crazy old lady hopping around who had the hots for Craig. Her arm was in a sling, but she was sure flinging it around a lot. I think maybe she put it on with the assumption she would eventually fall and hurt herself. She was also accompanied by a strapping young buck who was looking out for her. He pretty much stood at attention the whole time. Nice enough guy, but he didn’t seem any too comfortable with either the setting or his assignment. Maybe both. It was confusing.
After the Buccaneer, we went to Neil’s. Rather unremarkable place. But they did have shuffleboard. Craig got his rematch. Same result, sucka. We probably would have moved on, but the other side of the bar had karaoke. I did Mama Tried (again) and To Love Somebody. Craig broke out some new material with a fabulous rendition of Brandy.
After a late start, we managed to pack in a lot of stops in our day. Even so, we kept it a (relatively) early night as we had a litany of things to tackle the next day. OK, so it was still 3:00. I’d say we’ve successfully eased ourselves into the Memphis experience and found our stride.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Day 5: Walking in Memphis
August 21, 2007
By Jamie
For better or worse, bacon is not the only thing on the breakfast menu. Cathy set us up real nice with biscuits and gravy and eggs. After filling our bellies, we hit the road for Memphis. Our drive takes us along the Mississippi River through the eastern edge of Missouri and into Arkansas before crossing back over into Tennessee. Of course we had to stop by Festus, MO to see if the Bottle Rockets are wandering around. (They weren’t.) The drive through Missouri is pretty nice actually. Lots of rolling hills. We’re not positive, but we think we were near the edge of the Ozarks. It’s also wine country apparently. There are tons of vineyards through the area. We tried to pull off and do some quick gift shopping, but man, it turned out to be very difficult. Those Missourian vine-folk are sneaky bastards. When it says “5 miles off the highway” it’s a big fat lie. What it should say is “5 miles to the next sign that will tell you how far away the next sign is.” When we finally get through the chain of signs and get to the winery we discover it’s closed on Tuesdays. Our “quick stop” took almost an hour and we still came up empty handed. (Dare I say, fruitless?)
A little behind schedule, but we successfully rolled into Memphis. After a stop at the visitor center to pick up some maps and general info we found our way to the Otherlands coffee shop to collect our thoughts, plan a course of action and take advantage of their wireless connection. We’re pretty well armed for Memphis. Of all the stops on our trip, here is where we’ve gotten the most background info (from several sources). So at this point, we’ve got a pretty good idea of relative locations of sites, museums and bars. Naturally, we found a hotel pretty close to some bars.
First stop after the coffee shop is Neely’s BBQ. It was damn tasty, but I think Craig and I both give the edge to Gate’s back in KC. After a quick stop at the hotel to unload, we set off to do some exploring. The hotel location is also nice because it’s just off the trolley line which took us straight into downtown. The trolley had a nice wooden interior which Craig was happy to discover was manufactured in Ida Grove, IA. On the ride in we ran into two other guys – Micah and Michael – from Texas who are doing a very similar trip, just different cities. (Two guys on vacation? Sounds kinda gay, if you ask me.) Our first destination is on Beale Street and all the blues that go along with it. (Beale Street is basically the Memphis version of Bourbon Street.) A coworker’s husband’s nephew owns several bars on Beale, so those were a natural starting point. Beale Street was fun, though it was relatively low-key given that it was a Tuesday. Lots of neon and blues. And some guy who offered lots of tips on how to get with the ladies.
Stranger:
Man, you guys gotta lighten up if you’re gonna find any ladies!
Us:
Chuckle.
Stranger:
That’s better! The ladies like it when guys smile! I need to get this thing off my finger, it’s killin’ me! [As he pulls at his wedding ring.] You need to take yours off too, man!
Me:
Well, I don’t think my wife would appreciate that.
Stranger:
Man, I hear you. I’ve been married for 27 years. I love my wife. But man, I love the ladies!
This general conversation went on for a few minutes before he walked off with a lady. (Note: he wasn’t actually using the term “ladies.”)
After taking in Beale Street we ran into Micah and Michael from the trolley. We decided to get a little off the main drag and walk down to a bar called Ernestine & Hazel’s Sundry Store. Nice hole in the wall (it’s a former brothel) with a cool vide. There were a couple other folks in there, but they left shortly thereafter. The four of us were the only ones in the bar and we ended up hanging out there and chatting for about three hours until 3:00. We pretty much solved all the world’s problems we had forgotten to address earlier in our trip – border issues, the difference between Cajun and Creole, why Texas is so f'ed up, things like that.
Some might be under the impression that 3:00 is getting a little carried away. To that I say: cash-only after hour bar. After Ernestine & Hazel’s, Craig and I took a cab to Alex’s. They stay open until 6:00. Another hole in the wall with a good vibe. Robert behind the bar took good care of us. When I get back home I need to remember to send him some Iowa State gear to cover up the University of Iowa crap on the wall. They also had shuffleboard. Anyone who knows Craig knows that these types of games are his forte. And he was feeling pretty confident when he jumped out to a 16-0 lead. That’s about when I went Medieval on his ass. He was not amused by my brilliant rally. 21-20, Jamie wins.
One last cab ride home as the sun starts to rise and the birds and cicadas are squawking away. (The loud cicadas seem to be a recurring theme on this trip. They’re everywhere and they’re friggin’ loud.)
(For the record -- and to put my wifey's and mommy's minds at ease -- I'd like to point out that, while this was certainly a late night, it was not a crazed bender. When we go on a bender, I won't mention that at all...)
Memphis has officially welcomed us with open arms and a big wet, sloppy kiss. And I made out with its face.
By Jamie
For better or worse, bacon is not the only thing on the breakfast menu. Cathy set us up real nice with biscuits and gravy and eggs. After filling our bellies, we hit the road for Memphis. Our drive takes us along the Mississippi River through the eastern edge of Missouri and into Arkansas before crossing back over into Tennessee. Of course we had to stop by Festus, MO to see if the Bottle Rockets are wandering around. (They weren’t.) The drive through Missouri is pretty nice actually. Lots of rolling hills. We’re not positive, but we think we were near the edge of the Ozarks. It’s also wine country apparently. There are tons of vineyards through the area. We tried to pull off and do some quick gift shopping, but man, it turned out to be very difficult. Those Missourian vine-folk are sneaky bastards. When it says “5 miles off the highway” it’s a big fat lie. What it should say is “5 miles to the next sign that will tell you how far away the next sign is.” When we finally get through the chain of signs and get to the winery we discover it’s closed on Tuesdays. Our “quick stop” took almost an hour and we still came up empty handed. (Dare I say, fruitless?)
A little behind schedule, but we successfully rolled into Memphis. After a stop at the visitor center to pick up some maps and general info we found our way to the Otherlands coffee shop to collect our thoughts, plan a course of action and take advantage of their wireless connection. We’re pretty well armed for Memphis. Of all the stops on our trip, here is where we’ve gotten the most background info (from several sources). So at this point, we’ve got a pretty good idea of relative locations of sites, museums and bars. Naturally, we found a hotel pretty close to some bars.
First stop after the coffee shop is Neely’s BBQ. It was damn tasty, but I think Craig and I both give the edge to Gate’s back in KC. After a quick stop at the hotel to unload, we set off to do some exploring. The hotel location is also nice because it’s just off the trolley line which took us straight into downtown. The trolley had a nice wooden interior which Craig was happy to discover was manufactured in Ida Grove, IA. On the ride in we ran into two other guys – Micah and Michael – from Texas who are doing a very similar trip, just different cities. (Two guys on vacation? Sounds kinda gay, if you ask me.) Our first destination is on Beale Street and all the blues that go along with it. (Beale Street is basically the Memphis version of Bourbon Street.) A coworker’s husband’s nephew owns several bars on Beale, so those were a natural starting point. Beale Street was fun, though it was relatively low-key given that it was a Tuesday. Lots of neon and blues. And some guy who offered lots of tips on how to get with the ladies.
Stranger:
Man, you guys gotta lighten up if you’re gonna find any ladies!
Us:
Chuckle.
Stranger:
That’s better! The ladies like it when guys smile! I need to get this thing off my finger, it’s killin’ me! [As he pulls at his wedding ring.] You need to take yours off too, man!
Me:
Well, I don’t think my wife would appreciate that.
Stranger:
Man, I hear you. I’ve been married for 27 years. I love my wife. But man, I love the ladies!
This general conversation went on for a few minutes before he walked off with a lady. (Note: he wasn’t actually using the term “ladies.”)
After taking in Beale Street we ran into Micah and Michael from the trolley. We decided to get a little off the main drag and walk down to a bar called Ernestine & Hazel’s Sundry Store. Nice hole in the wall (it’s a former brothel) with a cool vide. There were a couple other folks in there, but they left shortly thereafter. The four of us were the only ones in the bar and we ended up hanging out there and chatting for about three hours until 3:00. We pretty much solved all the world’s problems we had forgotten to address earlier in our trip – border issues, the difference between Cajun and Creole, why Texas is so f'ed up, things like that.
Some might be under the impression that 3:00 is getting a little carried away. To that I say: cash-only after hour bar. After Ernestine & Hazel’s, Craig and I took a cab to Alex’s. They stay open until 6:00. Another hole in the wall with a good vibe. Robert behind the bar took good care of us. When I get back home I need to remember to send him some Iowa State gear to cover up the University of Iowa crap on the wall. They also had shuffleboard. Anyone who knows Craig knows that these types of games are his forte. And he was feeling pretty confident when he jumped out to a 16-0 lead. That’s about when I went Medieval on his ass. He was not amused by my brilliant rally. 21-20, Jamie wins.
One last cab ride home as the sun starts to rise and the birds and cicadas are squawking away. (The loud cicadas seem to be a recurring theme on this trip. They’re everywhere and they’re friggin’ loud.)
(For the record -- and to put my wifey's and mommy's minds at ease -- I'd like to point out that, while this was certainly a late night, it was not a crazed bender. When we go on a bender, I won't mention that at all...)
Memphis has officially welcomed us with open arms and a big wet, sloppy kiss. And I made out with its face.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Day 4: Six Pieces of Bacon
August 20, 2007
By Jamie
The family/friends/memory lane portion of the trip is drawing to a close. Genny and BJ actually live in a town northwest of KC called Farley. It’s about 240 people, so it’s a nice peaceful setting. They’ve got two kids, but they were in bed by the time we got home from the game, so the only time I saw them was in the morning when they came into my room to say goodbye. (In fact, Rick and Tangela have four kids that they had ditched for the previous evening, so we didn’t see them at all. It’s almost like people don’t want their children exposed to us…) After a good night’s rest and a casual morning we hit the road for St. Louis. We took a brief (relative term) stop in Columbia, MO to have some lunch, peruse the U of M campus and post the previous days’ blog entries. (Still slacking on getting the photos up.)
Eventually we found our way to Waterloo, IL, which is about 25 minutes southeast of St. Louis. Again, we are greeted with wonderful hospitality. Craig’s cousin Cathy and her husband Steve take great care of us. Cathy cooks up a storm. Cathy also happens to be Makeready’s #1 fan and we’re notified early on that we’ll be served six pieces of bacon as long as we play “Grandma’s Farm” a few times.
Cathy and Steve’s children and grandchildren all live nearby, so they came and went most of the evening. Our kid-free stretch is over. It got to be a bit of a madhouse with the lil’ screamers, but that’s OK. The only drawback is that a couple of the folks we had hoped to play music with got tied up in parental duties. There are some really talented folks in this family. Regardless, after dinner we got into some pickin’ and had a grand time. Dave sat in for a while. I would have been content to listen to him play. He can really make the guitar and mandolin sing. We were also joined by Vitor. He’s a Brazilian native who play’s some foreign-ey named instrument. It’s basically a Brazilian version of a ukulele and it mixed in very nicely. Thankfully we had solved half the world’s problems in our late night discussions on Saturday with Rick and Tangela, and the other half on Sunday night with Genny and BJ. Monday night was about music. The session actually turns into a bit of a marathon and Craig and I played for about four hours until bedtime at 1:00. Cathy got to hear several takes of Grandma’s Farm and we were in turn rewarded with bacon in the morning.
By Jamie
The family/friends/memory lane portion of the trip is drawing to a close. Genny and BJ actually live in a town northwest of KC called Farley. It’s about 240 people, so it’s a nice peaceful setting. They’ve got two kids, but they were in bed by the time we got home from the game, so the only time I saw them was in the morning when they came into my room to say goodbye. (In fact, Rick and Tangela have four kids that they had ditched for the previous evening, so we didn’t see them at all. It’s almost like people don’t want their children exposed to us…) After a good night’s rest and a casual morning we hit the road for St. Louis. We took a brief (relative term) stop in Columbia, MO to have some lunch, peruse the U of M campus and post the previous days’ blog entries. (Still slacking on getting the photos up.)
Eventually we found our way to Waterloo, IL, which is about 25 minutes southeast of St. Louis. Again, we are greeted with wonderful hospitality. Craig’s cousin Cathy and her husband Steve take great care of us. Cathy cooks up a storm. Cathy also happens to be Makeready’s #1 fan and we’re notified early on that we’ll be served six pieces of bacon as long as we play “Grandma’s Farm” a few times.
Cathy and Steve’s children and grandchildren all live nearby, so they came and went most of the evening. Our kid-free stretch is over. It got to be a bit of a madhouse with the lil’ screamers, but that’s OK. The only drawback is that a couple of the folks we had hoped to play music with got tied up in parental duties. There are some really talented folks in this family. Regardless, after dinner we got into some pickin’ and had a grand time. Dave sat in for a while. I would have been content to listen to him play. He can really make the guitar and mandolin sing. We were also joined by Vitor. He’s a Brazilian native who play’s some foreign-ey named instrument. It’s basically a Brazilian version of a ukulele and it mixed in very nicely. Thankfully we had solved half the world’s problems in our late night discussions on Saturday with Rick and Tangela, and the other half on Sunday night with Genny and BJ. Monday night was about music. The session actually turns into a bit of a marathon and Craig and I played for about four hours until bedtime at 1:00. Cathy got to hear several takes of Grandma’s Farm and we were in turn rewarded with bacon in the morning.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Day 3: T-Bones Sizzle Flyers in Extra Innings
August 19, 2007
Kansas City
By Craig
The pace of the trip has been perfect so far. No hurries, no worries. Jamie’s earplugs appear to be effective, so he’s well rested. After a short Makeready set for our hosts, we go to the street in front of the house for a throwing clinic. Progress is made. Tangela is a coach for a girl’s softball team, and it seems she’s having better luck than any of us Weaselhawks have had getting JP to hit his target. We’ve got gloves and a softball with us, so I’m hoping it’ll be a good start to the off-season training routine.
Then down to the corner of 18th and Vine Historic Jazz district, where we visited the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum. Highly recommended. The league and the players are an oft-forgotten chapter, and the museum itself is rich with memorabilia. The American Jazz Museum is in the same building; worth a look while you’re there, but it’s a little bit of a letdown.
The KC Royals were not in town this weekend, but who cares? Forget the MLB, get yourself out to CommunityAmerica Ballpark to see the T-Bones. This is how baseball should be enjoyed. $6 tickets, spread out a blanket on the grass slopes and enjoy. 70 degrees, and sunny with a light breeze. Quality ball, quality beer, and great company. The Kansas City T-Bones topped the Schaumberg Flyers in 11 innings by a score of 9-8. Jamie’s high school friend Genny came out to join us, she’s a real sweetheart. Early to bed and early to rise, that’s my motto. Although we did sip on a couple of Boulevards and had a great late-night conversation with Genny and her husband B.J.
Kansas City
By Craig
The pace of the trip has been perfect so far. No hurries, no worries. Jamie’s earplugs appear to be effective, so he’s well rested. After a short Makeready set for our hosts, we go to the street in front of the house for a throwing clinic. Progress is made. Tangela is a coach for a girl’s softball team, and it seems she’s having better luck than any of us Weaselhawks have had getting JP to hit his target. We’ve got gloves and a softball with us, so I’m hoping it’ll be a good start to the off-season training routine.
Then down to the corner of 18th and Vine Historic Jazz district, where we visited the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum. Highly recommended. The league and the players are an oft-forgotten chapter, and the museum itself is rich with memorabilia. The American Jazz Museum is in the same building; worth a look while you’re there, but it’s a little bit of a letdown.
The KC Royals were not in town this weekend, but who cares? Forget the MLB, get yourself out to CommunityAmerica Ballpark to see the T-Bones. This is how baseball should be enjoyed. $6 tickets, spread out a blanket on the grass slopes and enjoy. 70 degrees, and sunny with a light breeze. Quality ball, quality beer, and great company. The Kansas City T-Bones topped the Schaumberg Flyers in 11 innings by a score of 9-8. Jamie’s high school friend Genny came out to join us, she’s a real sweetheart. Early to bed and early to rise, that’s my motto. Although we did sip on a couple of Boulevards and had a great late-night conversation with Genny and her husband B.J.
Day 2: Kansas City, here we come
August 18, 20007
By Craig
Yep, Wilma is a real trooper. And Larry B. is the greatest. The trip to Winterset was a nice detour down memory lane. It’s always fun to show a pal where you grew up. It’s a great little town. White houses and white picket fences. Good enough for John Wayne’s first three months. I spent my first 18 years there.
After coffee and showers, Wilma and Larry demonstrated their dancing skills, Jamie test-drove the extra toilet seats in the basement and garage, and we toured the city. We checked out a couple of covered bridges and took the winding road to Clark’s tower in City Park, where we talked about the weather with some fellow Minnesota tourists. After a swing by the John Wayne birthplace, it was time to hit the road for real.
First Kansas City stop – rolled into KC just in time to meet Brady and one of the other folks at Hammepress letterpress shop in the Crossroads district. Nice shop, great work. They’ll be moving around the corner in a couple of weeks … wow, what a chore.
Got some cheap entertainment early in the day at Davey’s Uptown Ramblers Club, where we listened to a sound check by a punk band and quaffed down a couple of Boulevards. We also learned from a colorful character that, if you’re not allowed to carry a gun or a knife, you can still carry a stick. “If you got a tree, you got a weapon.”
We found our way out to Rick and Tangela’s place in Overland Park and went out for the first BBQ experience of the trip at Gates. Mmmmmm….. snarf. More Boulevard and then a trip to the Westport area where we met Mark, a high school buddy of Rick’s and did what people do in Westport. Drink Irish car bombs. Then back to Overland Park where Rick nodded off early, Jamie knocked back a couple of margaritas, and Tangela and I stayed up til 5 am chatting and solving the world’s problems.
By Craig
Yep, Wilma is a real trooper. And Larry B. is the greatest. The trip to Winterset was a nice detour down memory lane. It’s always fun to show a pal where you grew up. It’s a great little town. White houses and white picket fences. Good enough for John Wayne’s first three months. I spent my first 18 years there.
After coffee and showers, Wilma and Larry demonstrated their dancing skills, Jamie test-drove the extra toilet seats in the basement and garage, and we toured the city. We checked out a couple of covered bridges and took the winding road to Clark’s tower in City Park, where we talked about the weather with some fellow Minnesota tourists. After a swing by the John Wayne birthplace, it was time to hit the road for real.
First Kansas City stop – rolled into KC just in time to meet Brady and one of the other folks at Hammepress letterpress shop in the Crossroads district. Nice shop, great work. They’ll be moving around the corner in a couple of weeks … wow, what a chore.
Got some cheap entertainment early in the day at Davey’s Uptown Ramblers Club, where we listened to a sound check by a punk band and quaffed down a couple of Boulevards. We also learned from a colorful character that, if you’re not allowed to carry a gun or a knife, you can still carry a stick. “If you got a tree, you got a weapon.”
We found our way out to Rick and Tangela’s place in Overland Park and went out for the first BBQ experience of the trip at Gates. Mmmmmm….. snarf. More Boulevard and then a trip to the Westport area where we met Mark, a high school buddy of Rick’s and did what people do in Westport. Drink Irish car bombs. Then back to Overland Park where Rick nodded off early, Jamie knocked back a couple of margaritas, and Tangela and I stayed up til 5 am chatting and solving the world’s problems.
Day 1: Blazing the trail
Day 1
August 17, 2007
By Jamie
Mileage 53,624
Craig and Jamie on a road trip – naturally we get a delayed start. It’s about 3:45 by the time we get out of the Twin Cities. Craig flies low and we make excellent time to Ioway.
Our FIRST stop on our trip is Mason City to fill up with gas. As I open to door to get out of the car, my camera drops out of my pocket. Busted. Craig’s camera is officially on double duty.
First destination is Winterset, IA. That’s right. Winterset. Birthplace of John Wayne and home to the John Wayne Museum. (He lived there about three months.) Winterset is in Madison County, famed for its glorious covered bridges. They’re like normal wood bridges, but they’re covered. Friggin’ covered! Certainly worthy of many books and movies.
Around 7:45 we roll into Winterset, IA and Craig’s mom’s place. Wilma’s a total sweetheart. We have a lovely casserole (we tried to explain that it was really a hot dish) with Wilma and her hubby Larry. Both great folks. Wilma’s a little incapacitated at the moment. A month ago she took a stumble and broke BOTH shoulders. The ball part of the ball and socket joints are both broken in two places. Ouch. She’s still in pain but her spirits don’t seem to be dampened too much. She’s basically wrapped up like a burrito. Mmmm … burritos. After dinner Craig and I play a short set for Wilma and Larry in the living room. I like to think the lack of applause is due to Wilma’s injury. And Larry didn’t want to make her jealous by showing off his ability to clap. That was my take anyway. It was good fun.
After the session (around 11:30) Craig and I head into Winterset to explore the burgeoning night life. One third of the bars in town (Chancer’s) have been having problems with cockroaches, so it was closed. We then went to the Pheasant Run, formerly known as the Blue Note From the Movie, but still regarded as The Corner Tap. It’s a friggin’ Packers bar in the middle of Iowa. Met some nice folks there and then moved on to the Gold Star Bar. The Gold Star is a vast landscape of booze and excitement. They’ve got everything. A bowling alley, racquetball court, a video rental store, air hockey, full arcade, pool tables, and the stench of moxie. And they have Karaoke on a huge stage. I sang Mama Tried (Merle Haggard) and Craig sang Wichita Lineman (Glen Campbell). The sound quality of the system was actually pretty awesome. We rocked it. We met a few more nice folks there, the most memorable being the last guy we met on the way out…
As we’re getting ready to leave the Gold Star, we strike up a conversation with another feller named Jamie. He wears a pink shirt and sells Owens Corning basement systems. After chatting with him for a while he stops ans asks, “Are you guys a couple?” We have a good chuckle and explain that no, we’re not. He says he understands. As the conversation moves to a different topic, it’s clear to me he is convinced we’re a closeted gay couple. It’s not clear to Craig. So, while Craig is waxing poetic on some different subject the guy stops him, looks him square in the eye and they have the following exchange:
Pink shirt Jamie:
“Are you a good person.”
Befuddled and confused Craig:
“Um, I think so.”
PSJ:
“Then why do you give a shit what other people think?”
BCC:
“Um, I don’t know.”
PSJ:
“You need to forget about them and live your own life.”
BCC:
“Uh, yes.”
PSJ:
“Blaze your own trail, man. Blaze your own trail.”
BCC:
“Okay.”
Considering Craig didn’t know what the guy is talking about, and he won’t believe me anyway I don’t bother interjecting. We wrap up the conversation and head for home. On the drive, I can’t stop laughing as I explain to Craig what just happened. I suspect it won’t be the last time on the trip this assumption is made. Frankly I’m surprised I didn’t hear any Brokeback jokes in the weeks leading up to the trip. Maybe we need to change our story. What sounds more masculine: “Our band is on tour.” Or “We’re on a two week getaway.” Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
Blaze your own trail, man.
PS
If you’re ever on a long drive, typing a long blathering blog entry seems to be a good way to pass the time.
August 17, 2007
By Jamie
Mileage 53,624
Craig and Jamie on a road trip – naturally we get a delayed start. It’s about 3:45 by the time we get out of the Twin Cities. Craig flies low and we make excellent time to Ioway.
Our FIRST stop on our trip is Mason City to fill up with gas. As I open to door to get out of the car, my camera drops out of my pocket. Busted. Craig’s camera is officially on double duty.
First destination is Winterset, IA. That’s right. Winterset. Birthplace of John Wayne and home to the John Wayne Museum. (He lived there about three months.) Winterset is in Madison County, famed for its glorious covered bridges. They’re like normal wood bridges, but they’re covered. Friggin’ covered! Certainly worthy of many books and movies.
Around 7:45 we roll into Winterset, IA and Craig’s mom’s place. Wilma’s a total sweetheart. We have a lovely casserole (we tried to explain that it was really a hot dish) with Wilma and her hubby Larry. Both great folks. Wilma’s a little incapacitated at the moment. A month ago she took a stumble and broke BOTH shoulders. The ball part of the ball and socket joints are both broken in two places. Ouch. She’s still in pain but her spirits don’t seem to be dampened too much. She’s basically wrapped up like a burrito. Mmmm … burritos. After dinner Craig and I play a short set for Wilma and Larry in the living room. I like to think the lack of applause is due to Wilma’s injury. And Larry didn’t want to make her jealous by showing off his ability to clap. That was my take anyway. It was good fun.
After the session (around 11:30) Craig and I head into Winterset to explore the burgeoning night life. One third of the bars in town (Chancer’s) have been having problems with cockroaches, so it was closed. We then went to the Pheasant Run, formerly known as the Blue Note From the Movie, but still regarded as The Corner Tap. It’s a friggin’ Packers bar in the middle of Iowa. Met some nice folks there and then moved on to the Gold Star Bar. The Gold Star is a vast landscape of booze and excitement. They’ve got everything. A bowling alley, racquetball court, a video rental store, air hockey, full arcade, pool tables, and the stench of moxie. And they have Karaoke on a huge stage. I sang Mama Tried (Merle Haggard) and Craig sang Wichita Lineman (Glen Campbell). The sound quality of the system was actually pretty awesome. We rocked it. We met a few more nice folks there, the most memorable being the last guy we met on the way out…
As we’re getting ready to leave the Gold Star, we strike up a conversation with another feller named Jamie. He wears a pink shirt and sells Owens Corning basement systems. After chatting with him for a while he stops ans asks, “Are you guys a couple?” We have a good chuckle and explain that no, we’re not. He says he understands. As the conversation moves to a different topic, it’s clear to me he is convinced we’re a closeted gay couple. It’s not clear to Craig. So, while Craig is waxing poetic on some different subject the guy stops him, looks him square in the eye and they have the following exchange:
Pink shirt Jamie:
“Are you a good person.”
Befuddled and confused Craig:
“Um, I think so.”
PSJ:
“Then why do you give a shit what other people think?”
BCC:
“Um, I don’t know.”
PSJ:
“You need to forget about them and live your own life.”
BCC:
“Uh, yes.”
PSJ:
“Blaze your own trail, man. Blaze your own trail.”
BCC:
“Okay.”
Considering Craig didn’t know what the guy is talking about, and he won’t believe me anyway I don’t bother interjecting. We wrap up the conversation and head for home. On the drive, I can’t stop laughing as I explain to Craig what just happened. I suspect it won’t be the last time on the trip this assumption is made. Frankly I’m surprised I didn’t hear any Brokeback jokes in the weeks leading up to the trip. Maybe we need to change our story. What sounds more masculine: “Our band is on tour.” Or “We’re on a two week getaway.” Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
Blaze your own trail, man.
PS
If you’re ever on a long drive, typing a long blathering blog entry seems to be a good way to pass the time.
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Friday, August 3, 2007
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