We arrived early in Philly yesterday and decided to kill some time pre-show hanging out in the nice coffee shop in Manyunk that we remembered from last time we were in town. The shop was boarded up and shut down. Dejected, we searched out another establishment and approached just as it was closing down. The employee cleaning up referred us to yet another coffee shop, which also turned out to be making ready to close. Luckily, this employee was all too happy to unload the coffee dregs on us and let us hang for a few minutes and watch with muted smiles while she turned others away. We left with triumphant, caffeinated spirits and a dubious cargo of the day’s surplus pastries.
I believe that this narrative cycle (setting goals, encountering obstacles, persistence above all, and eventual rewards) encapsulates what it means to be a band on the road. As the tour winds down with tonight’s blowout show in New York City, we’re all looking forward to a little break over the next few days. Thanks so much to all the people and places who hosted us. Our first long-distance tour was a smashing success, and while we could have technically done it without you, it would have been approximately one thousand times worse.
Next up, the band is retreating into seclusion for two months to write and record new songs (because that, kind friends, is what we do). Our usual blog features will be going on hiatus during that time to facilitate a zen-like creative focus. Keep checking in for the occasional update, and we’ll back before you know it this summer with more blogginess than ever!
"The Ugly Truckling"
by Chauncey | Monday, August 8, 2011
Readers, be at ease; I have returned safely once again from the just-barely-escapable clutches of the harrowing Turnpike that is New Jersey’s. I am deeply touched, readers, by the numerous inquests I have received with regards to my personal health and safety — some of them impressively dogmatic as to my rights and ethical entitlements — but I regret to remind you that your compassion is only partially merited. The fact remains that it is always well within my power to decline participation in such injudicious jaunts, and yet I usually opt to humor the band if only to see how they hold up (humans being famously less rugged than vans).
The however-many-hours-each-way trip to DC was extremely pleasant, actually, thanks to comparatively moderate temperatures, dept. of transportation stimulus spending, and an especially friendly gas station attendant at mile marker 58. The guys were in fine form, too, both during the ride (it’s so cute when they take turns driving) and at their performance on Saturday afternoon at the 119th annual APA Convention outdoor lunch. I was parked in the shade on a sidewalkish road that cut through the park where the band was playing, and for the duration of the show I was treated to the most incredible view. Not of the stage, mind you — I would have tolerated a more generous distance from the noise — but of the trucks! Food trucks! Hundreds of them, it seemed, catering the event. My wheels, these were strange creatures, and of course the humans flocked to them with wide-eyed wonderment. Not so hard to pull off, maybe, when you’ve got a guy dressed like paddington in overalls selling perfectly spiced ethiopian shiro and lentil berbere.
So I just sat there not raising any eyebrows, not causing much of a stir, and certainly not selling any lollipopsicles, but very much enjoying the shenanigans while they lasted. And the drive back was rainy, and treacherous, and riddled with peril, dear readers, but it was no match for my handling and prowess. It’s just another twenty hours on the odometer, a few extra dings and scratches, and a story to tell.
(I gather from the band that the trip was a success, and that DC has upheld a hard-earned reputation for fantastic audiences, and that the guys look forward to returning for their show at the Rock N Roll hotel on the 27th. I suppose I look forward to it as well.)