Highway 1 Tour - Days 1 - 5
Daily writing is a goal, touring is the reality....so Highway One Tour blog Wednesday through Monday...
I'm writing from Smartsville, CA. The first two shows are done. And I'm way off the 1 on a Ranch near Sacramento owned by a singer/songwriter I met in Nashville. The road here...
The comedy starts Wednesday getting a new windshield on Glass Row in East L.A. Junior, the hook-up, tempts me down there with a $60 used glass to replace my front that's been cracked nearly all the way across for a year and a half. Yeah, finances have been tough for your singing friend. But the place where I got my 4 month overdue smog check turned me on. On the way downtown, Junior tells me the used 'shield isn't there but he'll give me a new one for a "sweet price." It's Wednesday, the "legit" places charge $300, so I'm east.
"Call me when you hit Mission, and I'll come out to get you," he says.
I'm kind of confused because I have the address and I know the joint's name from the glossy business card I'm holding.
On Mission it's like the Rolling Stones are playing up the road and every nearby parking lot is beckoning you in with flags... And it seems like several of these glass shops share the same address. I call Junior and he tells me he's waving at me from in front of the shop. 4 shops have people waving.
"Right in front of me?"
"No, behind.... Further.... Keep coming."
Junior hooks me up for a negotiated $85 cash, no receipt. And I wait under the sheet wood waiting awning next to the broken fridge and water dispenser with no cups.
I'm feeling pretty good with new windshield with the blue bandages. I'm sure that looks a little silly, but, hell, I'm finally legal. I've got my registration tags finally and no fix-it ticket waiting to happen for the first time in 18 months with the new glass! The last thing I need is to get my music cell phone updated and I'm ready for Highway One.
---
For a guy who's creating a documentary on how technology has probably removed us from a focused connection with people let alone music, I proved to be no way pure. I'm speaking to the wireless lady when someone juts into my lane on the freeway ("my new windshield!"), with one had on the phone, I swerve out of her way no longer parallel to the ground. I'd like to think that I was completely clear that no one was to my left, but I might just be lucky.
Then the next 5 hours were spent on two trips to the phone store and two lengthy product support runarounds and a hour trying to sync music. By that time I'd forgotten to call the folks that were on my team for the tour shoot and I was writing late night e-mails trying to salvage. (None of that actually had anything to do with my ending up solo on the tour...paying gigs offered to my peeps took care of that.) I felt victim to the mentality I want to challenge.
---
More in line with my aspirations Thursday morning making blueberry pancakes, I finally decided to write a little bit about those happy thoughts I often have in my morning kitchen. First I always think of Moon and Gail Zappa. Moon had invited me over when I was probably 23 and in their big family kitchen...I guess it was all a bit surreal because I was at the home of this family I'd known about growing up in kind of a celebrity fashion...and there was Gail grinding up Trader Joe's coffee having a spirited conversation with someone. I just thought she was the coolest woman in the world. And pretty much from that day on every morning I grind my own TJ's coffee. For some reason it was a celebration of life the way she did that and I think I call on that often to start my day.
Then I thought of my ex-fiancee and our pancake battles...my Swedish versus her German. And then picking blueberries in Mississippi at my cousin Carmen and Kenny's. Then my old manager at the clothes store I worked at in Beverly Hills popped into my mind. A new thought, I thought, but in line with the happy good people morning memories. Then as I'm typing his name in my journal, I see a new e-mail has come in and it's from him. He was listening to my new album as he was writing and it had to be the same moment I was thinking of him. Good start to the beginning of a journey. (The funny thing because I think I sometime give off the impression that I'm really involved in spiritual concerns, but I don't generally look for those sort of connections. I trust that they are there, but I never rely on them. So when little things like that happen, it reassures me that the sense of connection and ultimate well being that I have isn't completely unfounded. OK...I guess I see where people get the sense that I'm a little hippie....)
The day started out great, but I was pretty crestfallen by the evening when I realized that I was traveling completely alone.
---
Friday morning I remembered my old 8mm video camera. I thought, what the hell, I'll take that. By this point it's got a vintage aesthetic anyway. So I checked out the tapes in my bag...I'd actually inherited this from my dad and only used it a few times...and on the second tape was video of my dad trying to figure out the new camera and how to tape his psychotherapy appointment. Pops goofing around unself-consciously. It made me nostalgic for the 90s. I guess I'd been there in a way for a couple days, but I began to wonder if it had something to do with the security of having two living parents.
---
Finally on the road around 2, I stopped first at Zoey's in Ventura. Met a lovely gallery owner and her spitting image elderly mother. Then I dropped the flyers to Polly. Something about surprising people in the middle of the day is so wonderful. People are delighted for the diversion and I'm delighted that they're delighted to see me. The rest of the day was a bit like that. I stopped into the Cambria Pines Lodge where I hadn't played for a couple years, Curtis and Tina were at the bar, Kristy was behind it. It was old times. Kristy's married now, though. And the guy who used to book me is in North Carolina.
Then when looking for Lisa Teasley's number (with whom I shared the bill on Saturday) I saw the number of a junior high school friend whose grandmother was tight with my father. Driving up 1, I spoke to her for the first time since the school reunion 4 years ago. She'd already reached for the Friday evening scotch after a tough day in her graduate program and said it made her day that I thought of her. It's funny how that happens. I was feeling a little lonely being solo on the road and she was in the area code where I was headed so I thought I say hi. I could've just blown it off, and she could've not answered the unfamiliar number, but two minor bits of initiative and two people are a lot happier for a moment.
---
I arrived at the Henry Miller to a Twisted Folk Festival. The gardens were lit and artists with all sorts of found instruments were making music from the more traditional to the cabaret. Lisa, Daniel and our host Magnus, went home after Magnus sang "Marilyn Monroe didn't marry Henry Miller." I stayed on to meet a few really sweet people who didn't make it to our show the next day.
Magnus and Marylou live in the woods in a place with an outhouse and outdoor shower. (Though the guesthouse has indoor facilities.) It's dramatic and gorgeous as are they and their story. I'd first met Magnus 7 or 8 years ago driving through Big Sur at the urging of Sarah Symons from the Syrens. I loved the library and we'd always talked about maybe doing something when it made sense. I understood what he meant when Lisa, Austin and Barry (the filmmakers), and I had an audience of ourselves, the staff, and one random guest and his dog for our performance.
But we had fun. Lisa's novel seems wonderful...a story of a journey up the Highway 1. Austin and Barry's film is going to be incredible. We saw an wonderful 50 minute excerpt.
It was just good stuff all around except for the waitress at Nepenthe that charged me $51 instead of $15 on my nearly maxed credit card. She never gave me a voided receipt and when, knowing that she bumped me up to the limit, she informed that $66 + 20% would be held for a few days now on the card, she said, "I'm sorry, but it's good you have friends." Tourist industry and the spiritual center...
---
Sunday up the coast through Santa Cruz and into "the City." I did the obligatory pass by of Adelaide Inn, the place where I had the first SF getaway with my first love. Then on to Bazaar.
There's no place like the Bazaar Cafe. I absolutely love it. There's no amplification and they grind and foam between songs. It completely made up for the anonymity of Big Sur. Friends/fans from years ago representing the Bay, Los Angeles and my new pal from Nashville/Smartsville, where in the house singing the words and requesting songs I'd forgotten! I floated through the show, met some great new people, too. Then Jane and I stopped at Everett and Jones Barbecue in Berkeley on the way out to the Ranch. All the spots covered!
So technology and music. Well, I guess I sort of forgot about it a little. I had practically no cell reception and no internet for a few days. And in the woods and in the Bazaar along Highway 1, we had long form conversations and complete sessions of music and stories. I'm curious how others are connecting these days. But this felt pretty rich to me.
More soon...and forgive me if I seemed to lose steam as I went on...I haven't eaten breakfast yet and it's noon! Love to you all.
I'm writing from Smartsville, CA. The first two shows are done. And I'm way off the 1 on a Ranch near Sacramento owned by a singer/songwriter I met in Nashville. The road here...
The comedy starts Wednesday getting a new windshield on Glass Row in East L.A. Junior, the hook-up, tempts me down there with a $60 used glass to replace my front that's been cracked nearly all the way across for a year and a half. Yeah, finances have been tough for your singing friend. But the place where I got my 4 month overdue smog check turned me on. On the way downtown, Junior tells me the used 'shield isn't there but he'll give me a new one for a "sweet price." It's Wednesday, the "legit" places charge $300, so I'm east.
"Call me when you hit Mission, and I'll come out to get you," he says.
I'm kind of confused because I have the address and I know the joint's name from the glossy business card I'm holding.
On Mission it's like the Rolling Stones are playing up the road and every nearby parking lot is beckoning you in with flags... And it seems like several of these glass shops share the same address. I call Junior and he tells me he's waving at me from in front of the shop. 4 shops have people waving.
"Right in front of me?"
"No, behind.... Further.... Keep coming."
Junior hooks me up for a negotiated $85 cash, no receipt. And I wait under the sheet wood waiting awning next to the broken fridge and water dispenser with no cups.
I'm feeling pretty good with new windshield with the blue bandages. I'm sure that looks a little silly, but, hell, I'm finally legal. I've got my registration tags finally and no fix-it ticket waiting to happen for the first time in 18 months with the new glass! The last thing I need is to get my music cell phone updated and I'm ready for Highway One.
---
For a guy who's creating a documentary on how technology has probably removed us from a focused connection with people let alone music, I proved to be no way pure. I'm speaking to the wireless lady when someone juts into my lane on the freeway ("my new windshield!"), with one had on the phone, I swerve out of her way no longer parallel to the ground. I'd like to think that I was completely clear that no one was to my left, but I might just be lucky.
Then the next 5 hours were spent on two trips to the phone store and two lengthy product support runarounds and a hour trying to sync music. By that time I'd forgotten to call the folks that were on my team for the tour shoot and I was writing late night e-mails trying to salvage. (None of that actually had anything to do with my ending up solo on the tour...paying gigs offered to my peeps took care of that.) I felt victim to the mentality I want to challenge.
---
More in line with my aspirations Thursday morning making blueberry pancakes, I finally decided to write a little bit about those happy thoughts I often have in my morning kitchen. First I always think of Moon and Gail Zappa. Moon had invited me over when I was probably 23 and in their big family kitchen...I guess it was all a bit surreal because I was at the home of this family I'd known about growing up in kind of a celebrity fashion...and there was Gail grinding up Trader Joe's coffee having a spirited conversation with someone. I just thought she was the coolest woman in the world. And pretty much from that day on every morning I grind my own TJ's coffee. For some reason it was a celebration of life the way she did that and I think I call on that often to start my day.
Then I thought of my ex-fiancee and our pancake battles...my Swedish versus her German. And then picking blueberries in Mississippi at my cousin Carmen and Kenny's. Then my old manager at the clothes store I worked at in Beverly Hills popped into my mind. A new thought, I thought, but in line with the happy good people morning memories. Then as I'm typing his name in my journal, I see a new e-mail has come in and it's from him. He was listening to my new album as he was writing and it had to be the same moment I was thinking of him. Good start to the beginning of a journey. (The funny thing because I think I sometime give off the impression that I'm really involved in spiritual concerns, but I don't generally look for those sort of connections. I trust that they are there, but I never rely on them. So when little things like that happen, it reassures me that the sense of connection and ultimate well being that I have isn't completely unfounded. OK...I guess I see where people get the sense that I'm a little hippie....)
The day started out great, but I was pretty crestfallen by the evening when I realized that I was traveling completely alone.
---
Friday morning I remembered my old 8mm video camera. I thought, what the hell, I'll take that. By this point it's got a vintage aesthetic anyway. So I checked out the tapes in my bag...I'd actually inherited this from my dad and only used it a few times...and on the second tape was video of my dad trying to figure out the new camera and how to tape his psychotherapy appointment. Pops goofing around unself-consciously. It made me nostalgic for the 90s. I guess I'd been there in a way for a couple days, but I began to wonder if it had something to do with the security of having two living parents.
---
Finally on the road around 2, I stopped first at Zoey's in Ventura. Met a lovely gallery owner and her spitting image elderly mother. Then I dropped the flyers to Polly. Something about surprising people in the middle of the day is so wonderful. People are delighted for the diversion and I'm delighted that they're delighted to see me. The rest of the day was a bit like that. I stopped into the Cambria Pines Lodge where I hadn't played for a couple years, Curtis and Tina were at the bar, Kristy was behind it. It was old times. Kristy's married now, though. And the guy who used to book me is in North Carolina.
Then when looking for Lisa Teasley's number (with whom I shared the bill on Saturday) I saw the number of a junior high school friend whose grandmother was tight with my father. Driving up 1, I spoke to her for the first time since the school reunion 4 years ago. She'd already reached for the Friday evening scotch after a tough day in her graduate program and said it made her day that I thought of her. It's funny how that happens. I was feeling a little lonely being solo on the road and she was in the area code where I was headed so I thought I say hi. I could've just blown it off, and she could've not answered the unfamiliar number, but two minor bits of initiative and two people are a lot happier for a moment.
---
I arrived at the Henry Miller to a Twisted Folk Festival. The gardens were lit and artists with all sorts of found instruments were making music from the more traditional to the cabaret. Lisa, Daniel and our host Magnus, went home after Magnus sang "Marilyn Monroe didn't marry Henry Miller." I stayed on to meet a few really sweet people who didn't make it to our show the next day.
Magnus and Marylou live in the woods in a place with an outhouse and outdoor shower. (Though the guesthouse has indoor facilities.) It's dramatic and gorgeous as are they and their story. I'd first met Magnus 7 or 8 years ago driving through Big Sur at the urging of Sarah Symons from the Syrens. I loved the library and we'd always talked about maybe doing something when it made sense. I understood what he meant when Lisa, Austin and Barry (the filmmakers), and I had an audience of ourselves, the staff, and one random guest and his dog for our performance.
But we had fun. Lisa's novel seems wonderful...a story of a journey up the Highway 1. Austin and Barry's film is going to be incredible. We saw an wonderful 50 minute excerpt.
It was just good stuff all around except for the waitress at Nepenthe that charged me $51 instead of $15 on my nearly maxed credit card. She never gave me a voided receipt and when, knowing that she bumped me up to the limit, she informed that $66 + 20% would be held for a few days now on the card, she said, "I'm sorry, but it's good you have friends." Tourist industry and the spiritual center...
---
Sunday up the coast through Santa Cruz and into "the City." I did the obligatory pass by of Adelaide Inn, the place where I had the first SF getaway with my first love. Then on to Bazaar.
There's no place like the Bazaar Cafe. I absolutely love it. There's no amplification and they grind and foam between songs. It completely made up for the anonymity of Big Sur. Friends/fans from years ago representing the Bay, Los Angeles and my new pal from Nashville/Smartsville, where in the house singing the words and requesting songs I'd forgotten! I floated through the show, met some great new people, too. Then Jane and I stopped at Everett and Jones Barbecue in Berkeley on the way out to the Ranch. All the spots covered!
So technology and music. Well, I guess I sort of forgot about it a little. I had practically no cell reception and no internet for a few days. And in the woods and in the Bazaar along Highway 1, we had long form conversations and complete sessions of music and stories. I'm curious how others are connecting these days. But this felt pretty rich to me.
More soon...and forgive me if I seemed to lose steam as I went on...I haven't eaten breakfast yet and it's noon! Love to you all.
posted by groovyacousticsoul at 8/30/2006
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