So I don’t know much about Philadelphia. Nothing beyond my Junior American history class trip when I met the German foreign exchange student, her name escapes me, but I seem to recall that she was interested in me. Me. That attraction, imagined or real, was the first real twinge of an adult persona, maybe understanding that I just might be “good lookin’.” Although my confidence waned after she was sent home to the “Olde Country,” no internets in 1989 and no one knew what the fuck an emoticon was… I slowly moved back to my old disappointed self, cynical about girls. Love from afar… not an effective romantic mantra.
I’m off topic, I know. Well… anyhow… Dave Hadley and I pull onto Broad Street and get this… people are parked in the middle of what would the British call a central reservation. It was un-nerving. The cars were just parked, clubs locked into the driving wheel… fending off the sneaky and the ne’er do wells… out of control. At first these machines appeared to be turning left…a long line, a long wait. But as we moved down the street their lamp-less head lights became more apparent, to the point where I felt compelled to turn to Dave and asked, “Does this seem strange to you?” To which he replied, “Yup.”
Can you believe it? I mean… wow… just parked in the middle of the street… like no one’s business. Cars to tired to park on the side of the street… giving up and sputtering to a halt there, smack fucking dab in the middle. It wasn’t just one block but all of them. It’s been a while since I’ve been that uncomfortable in traffic.
Cultural/Social rules probably vary in the automobile world, no? I mean… in Germany, they probably have some sort of strange driving thing or parking peccadilloes… I’m sure of it… they probably parallel park cars while smoking pot and talking to seventeen year olds about how they are cool and would like to go to the homecoming dance… then end up being deported.
Soon enough we make it to the Tritone… somewhat akin to the old Café Tattoo… the tables and the chairs have a semi cafeteria feel… carpet that claims all that falls onto its matted sticky threads. Each table swivels or careens, which ever you prefer, in unanticipated directions… as I type this I have negotiated several hairpin twists. Blogging… TO THE EXTREME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Slo and Shakey, I shit you not… their names are playing some blues… guitars sound good… they know what they’re doing… oh and Monday Night Football is on tonight… Eagles vs. The Redskins… with McNabb playing for Washington. I am made to understand that this situation could become volatile…
Our set: a bit shakey in the confidence area... slo in tempo... overall, pretty and good. arrows and rocks emerged as the stand out track... solid connections and my voice, in fine form, smoothed out the delivery... worth something, I believe. Closing time and no real leads on a place to stay... we end up eating a red roof inn in new jersey. there are no snooki's where we are staying... june star is in the red...
Gas: -26
Tolls: -9
Hotel: -68
Beer: -8
Parking: -4.50
Total Monies Out: 115.50
Less Payment from the show: 15
Total Monies In: 15
-100.50
Okay New York!
2 comments:
I thought you said you were taking marketing 101?
There are no current videos of your band performing, or any videos at all on your web page. And when you google the band name on youtube, the first images which pop up are solo grimm.
If I was a philadelphian contemplating going out to the tritone to see the eagles and this group junestar, I would google the name junestar and not get an accurate idea of what to expect.
Are the new yorkers any better informed?
Always think of the potential audience, even when you are playing to an actual audience.
.History is over.
ah... elder grasshopper? I am but one man running everything in the band... the demands on my time are great... I'm always looking for someone who can help? Could it be you?
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