October 17th: RPI - Troy, NY
It's 2pm when I come to. I have to be at our rehearsal space in an hour in DUMBO. I'm in Greenpoint. Better drag my carcass-body out of bed and hope that my head doesn't explode. I vaguely remember being kicked out of a bar around 4am. Jeremiah and our friend Adam were there. Then I jumped onto the bed of a parked semi-truck. Then I jumped down from a great height and fell to the ground. Then Jeremiah and Adam started beating me up. Did all this happen? Can't quite say.
I walk down to the G train at Nassau Ave. Transfer at Hoyt-Schermerhorn to the A train. I emerge out of the High Street station just before 3pm. Right on time. I see Gavin at the deli around the corner from our space. We see Jeremiah in our rehearsal space. He's hung over as hell. So those things DID happen. Funny.
We pack everything and carry it out on to the street, where Will is waiting with the Blue Torch. We pack everything just like we did on tour and we are off to Troy, NY. I am all of the sudden in the driver's seat. Carmen, our GPS, is being stupid. It's like she spent the whole two weeks since tour holed up in a brothel somewhere smoking crack. She wants us to take the Holland Tunnel, which makes no sense. She keeps on saying, "Recalculating," every time I ignore her directions. Then we hit horrendous traffic on the West Side Highway. Some stupid Asian dude cuts me off from the right side lane and then proceeds to cut all the way across to the left lane so he can go into Chelsea Piers. He nearly kills all of us. I shake my fists at him and cry inside that he's so stupid. We pass the Intrepid and Will comments that I didn't ask to go inside this time, like I alway do. I guess I am too hungover.
It takes nearly an hour to get out of the city, but once we cross the GW bridge, it's smooth sailing. We cruise into RPI campus a little past 7pm. We meet Shela, who setup the show for us. She's going to order pizza for us, which is sweet, because I'm still hungover and I need to eat something. We meet the other bands playing the show and then Gavin and I are dispatched to go get beers. We pick up Bud Light and some plastic cups so we can pretend like we aren't drinking beer on stage. Every since we went to the Anheuser-Busch brewery tour, I've had an insatiable appetite for Bud Light's uncompromising drinkability. God, I can't wait to sneak the suckers into the band room and crack one open. Which is exactly what I do. I head straight past the door girl, past the crowd gathered to watch the first band, go straight back to our "green room" which is just a closet with all our gear stowed away in it, and I crack one open and pour it into a cup and guzzle it. Delicious.
First band to go on is a campus outfit called The New Pioneer Society. Seems like just about everyone cool on campus is in this band. Shela is in the band. She plays bass on a song. Some dude plays the ukulele. Someone else plays shaker. There's cello. Sax. Bandanas. Everything.
Henry Gale are on next. They are an instrumental band from Boston. They remind us of another Boston band, Caspian, whose guitarist is a childhood friend of Will's. Half way through their set, Will and I go upstairs to do our vocal warm-ups. Mmm, it's ok. Not mind-blowing.
We set up our stuff and slog through our set. We have some technical problems with mics and whatnot. Or maybe we are playing way too loud. Not our best work. We feel kind of bummed about it even though the audience seems to enjoy it.
We chat with some people for a while before packing our stuff and hitting the road. Jeremiah is driving now. It's close to midnight. I have to be at work at 8am so we are driving straight back to the city. Well, not exactly. Jeremiah drives us to a Taco Bell/Long John Silvers drive thru without telling me. My mind is blown. I am about to lose my LJS virginity. Then the lady at the drive thru tells us that LJS closed at 9pm. Bummer. We settle for like, 14 tacos. We pull around to the parking lot and scarf down the tacos. I have a Volcano Burrito or something, which is horrible. I think it has Doritos in it. I also have a steak taco, which is ok. The best is the regular crunchy taco. That is amazing. We finish all the tacos and we drive through another time and order more food. The lady must think we are so stoned. I order a Crunch Wrap Supreme or something like that, which is basically a taco frisbee. It tastes weird. And it's unnatural looking. It freaks me out. I can deal with San Loco, but this is too much. I finish the whole thing.
We need gas badly. We've been driving on an empty tank ever since we rolled into town. We drive around for a good 30 minutes from gas station to station, only to find that they are all closed. We decide to drive to Albany a few miles south and try our luck there. No luck.
I suggest that we get on I-87 and drive to the New Baltimore rest stop, a few miles south of Albany. We drive past a sign for the rest stop, 11 miles away. We start joking that we're not going to make it. I suggest that we will run out of gas a few feet in front of the pump and we will have to push the van the rest of the way. We pass another sign. 5 miles away. Jeremiah says, "good thing there isn't a huge hill that we have to climb right now." I say, "There isn't?" There is. We make it over the hill and roll down the other side. We see another sign for the rest stop in the far distance. We're going a good 65 miles per hour. Then all of the sudden, Jeremiah pulls over the rumble strip on to the curb. Will says, "is it happening?" It's happening. We coast for another half-mile or so and come to a halt in front of the sign. 2 miles. Sweet.
It's past 1am. We debate whether or not I can run to the station and back in less time than it would take for AAA to arrive. Not sure sure I want to do that. We'll wait for AAA. Jeremiah and I climb up the embankment and have a little dance party to Idlewild until it gets too cold. Here's a picture of me, I'm holding my phone to light my face. The van's in the background:
It's suppose to snow. We huddle inside the van and fantasize about how we would survive the night. We have four tacos left. Half a bottle of water. I suggest we could start burning Jeremiah's drums if it gets too cold. Jera suggests that my bass would be easier to burn. Will democratically suggests we put on our merchandise tee-shirts. We all think this is a good idea.
Every time a car drives past, the entire van shakes with the change in air pressure. It's pretty rad. But semis are scary. It feels like the vans going to be blown over every time one of those suckers zooms by.
About an hour later the AAA tow truck finally arrives. The dude is one surly fella. I'm pretty sure he's pissed at us for running out of gas. He keeps on yelling at Will. He must think his time is not worth this stupidity. He would much rather be using his jaws of life to save an accident victim. Not some stupid band that woke him up in the middle of the night so he can pump 3 gallons of gas into their stupid van's tank. Anyway, after much yelling and paper work, he says, "There's a service station two miles down the road. Get some gas." No shit. We briefly debate whether or not to keep on driving past the station and calling the AAA dude again, but we opt out and get gas.
We roll into DUMBO close to 4:30am. Probably the fastest we've ever unloaded our gear. Five minutes, six tops. Jeremiah and Will drive me to the Hoyt-Schermerhorn stop and I
get home by 5am. I set my alarm for 7am and hop into bed. But I can't fall asleep. Sucks. The alarm is already going off when I start dozing. See you at CMJ on Saturday!
I walk down to the G train at Nassau Ave. Transfer at Hoyt-Schermerhorn to the A train. I emerge out of the High Street station just before 3pm. Right on time. I see Gavin at the deli around the corner from our space. We see Jeremiah in our rehearsal space. He's hung over as hell. So those things DID happen. Funny.
We pack everything and carry it out on to the street, where Will is waiting with the Blue Torch. We pack everything just like we did on tour and we are off to Troy, NY. I am all of the sudden in the driver's seat. Carmen, our GPS, is being stupid. It's like she spent the whole two weeks since tour holed up in a brothel somewhere smoking crack. She wants us to take the Holland Tunnel, which makes no sense. She keeps on saying, "Recalculating," every time I ignore her directions. Then we hit horrendous traffic on the West Side Highway. Some stupid Asian dude cuts me off from the right side lane and then proceeds to cut all the way across to the left lane so he can go into Chelsea Piers. He nearly kills all of us. I shake my fists at him and cry inside that he's so stupid. We pass the Intrepid and Will comments that I didn't ask to go inside this time, like I alway do. I guess I am too hungover.
It takes nearly an hour to get out of the city, but once we cross the GW bridge, it's smooth sailing. We cruise into RPI campus a little past 7pm. We meet Shela, who setup the show for us. She's going to order pizza for us, which is sweet, because I'm still hungover and I need to eat something. We meet the other bands playing the show and then Gavin and I are dispatched to go get beers. We pick up Bud Light and some plastic cups so we can pretend like we aren't drinking beer on stage. Every since we went to the Anheuser-Busch brewery tour, I've had an insatiable appetite for Bud Light's uncompromising drinkability. God, I can't wait to sneak the suckers into the band room and crack one open. Which is exactly what I do. I head straight past the door girl, past the crowd gathered to watch the first band, go straight back to our "green room" which is just a closet with all our gear stowed away in it, and I crack one open and pour it into a cup and guzzle it. Delicious.
First band to go on is a campus outfit called The New Pioneer Society. Seems like just about everyone cool on campus is in this band. Shela is in the band. She plays bass on a song. Some dude plays the ukulele. Someone else plays shaker. There's cello. Sax. Bandanas. Everything.
Henry Gale are on next. They are an instrumental band from Boston. They remind us of another Boston band, Caspian, whose guitarist is a childhood friend of Will's. Half way through their set, Will and I go upstairs to do our vocal warm-ups. Mmm, it's ok. Not mind-blowing.
We set up our stuff and slog through our set. We have some technical problems with mics and whatnot. Or maybe we are playing way too loud. Not our best work. We feel kind of bummed about it even though the audience seems to enjoy it.
We chat with some people for a while before packing our stuff and hitting the road. Jeremiah is driving now. It's close to midnight. I have to be at work at 8am so we are driving straight back to the city. Well, not exactly. Jeremiah drives us to a Taco Bell/Long John Silvers drive thru without telling me. My mind is blown. I am about to lose my LJS virginity. Then the lady at the drive thru tells us that LJS closed at 9pm. Bummer. We settle for like, 14 tacos. We pull around to the parking lot and scarf down the tacos. I have a Volcano Burrito or something, which is horrible. I think it has Doritos in it. I also have a steak taco, which is ok. The best is the regular crunchy taco. That is amazing. We finish all the tacos and we drive through another time and order more food. The lady must think we are so stoned. I order a Crunch Wrap Supreme or something like that, which is basically a taco frisbee. It tastes weird. And it's unnatural looking. It freaks me out. I can deal with San Loco, but this is too much. I finish the whole thing.
We need gas badly. We've been driving on an empty tank ever since we rolled into town. We drive around for a good 30 minutes from gas station to station, only to find that they are all closed. We decide to drive to Albany a few miles south and try our luck there. No luck.
I suggest that we get on I-87 and drive to the New Baltimore rest stop, a few miles south of Albany. We drive past a sign for the rest stop, 11 miles away. We start joking that we're not going to make it. I suggest that we will run out of gas a few feet in front of the pump and we will have to push the van the rest of the way. We pass another sign. 5 miles away. Jeremiah says, "good thing there isn't a huge hill that we have to climb right now." I say, "There isn't?" There is. We make it over the hill and roll down the other side. We see another sign for the rest stop in the far distance. We're going a good 65 miles per hour. Then all of the sudden, Jeremiah pulls over the rumble strip on to the curb. Will says, "is it happening?" It's happening. We coast for another half-mile or so and come to a halt in front of the sign. 2 miles. Sweet.
It's past 1am. We debate whether or not I can run to the station and back in less time than it would take for AAA to arrive. Not sure sure I want to do that. We'll wait for AAA. Jeremiah and I climb up the embankment and have a little dance party to Idlewild until it gets too cold. Here's a picture of me, I'm holding my phone to light my face. The van's in the background:
It's suppose to snow. We huddle inside the van and fantasize about how we would survive the night. We have four tacos left. Half a bottle of water. I suggest we could start burning Jeremiah's drums if it gets too cold. Jera suggests that my bass would be easier to burn. Will democratically suggests we put on our merchandise tee-shirts. We all think this is a good idea.
Every time a car drives past, the entire van shakes with the change in air pressure. It's pretty rad. But semis are scary. It feels like the vans going to be blown over every time one of those suckers zooms by.
About an hour later the AAA tow truck finally arrives. The dude is one surly fella. I'm pretty sure he's pissed at us for running out of gas. He keeps on yelling at Will. He must think his time is not worth this stupidity. He would much rather be using his jaws of life to save an accident victim. Not some stupid band that woke him up in the middle of the night so he can pump 3 gallons of gas into their stupid van's tank. Anyway, after much yelling and paper work, he says, "There's a service station two miles down the road. Get some gas." No shit. We briefly debate whether or not to keep on driving past the station and calling the AAA dude again, but we opt out and get gas.
We roll into DUMBO close to 4:30am. Probably the fastest we've ever unloaded our gear. Five minutes, six tops. Jeremiah and Will drive me to the Hoyt-Schermerhorn stop and I
get home by 5am. I set my alarm for 7am and hop into bed. But I can't fall asleep. Sucks. The alarm is already going off when I start dozing. See you at CMJ on Saturday!
posted by The Jaguar Club at
8:29 PM
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