Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Skin is for suckers anyways

Overheard:

Dude 1: Dude, there's dudes on your couch!

Dude 2: Shut up dude, they're from Canada and they're trying to sleep.

Dude 1: I fucking hate Canadians.


Day 27 – Portland

We rolled into Portland in the early afternoon and set about accomplishing things. Most of these things included napping and eating, but we also visited a great music gear shop (Old Town Music) to look at pedals and odds 'n ends. Very nice cats working there.

We procured groceries from a local emporium and made some very satisfactory sandwiches while drinking astonishingly cheap beer (yah Oregon lack of sales tax).

The show was at the Ella Street Social Club – we played with The Harvey Girls (a one man loop scene) and Amos Val (a two piece of post rockery).

Here's some Amos Val -

Very fun and we hung out with a fellow named Chris whom we'd met and played with on our last trip down this way. We met some other very friendly people also, chatted for a few hours and then went on our way, headed for Chico and the Californian sun. We stopped in a monster shopping centre and camped outside of a Starbucks, which ended up being incredibly busy in the morning.

Day 28 – Chico

Sweet mother of peaches it is hot here. We arrived early and spent some time by a pool that's actually a diverted part of the river. We ate food and lounged around. Such heat requires a serious lounge.

Later we headed for the show – at a place called the Origami Lounge – and set up for the first of three shows with two bands – You Are Plural (from Olympia) and The Americas (Chico / Petaluma). Another local act called Birds of Prey rounded out the bill.

Travis and Casey laying it down (below) -

The venue was basically a barn / warehouse space. I saw a lot of spiders, but no one would confirm my sightings (although Scott did notice some webs on his gear at the end of the night). Efram and Jenn (You are Plural) made some beautiful wurlitzer / cello music; their excellence was stunning. Travis and Casey (the Americas) were a no holds barred attack of drums and guitar. Great dudes and Casey is one of the best drummers I've ever seen live.

After the gig we got some pizza at a busy local haunt, watched some locals be yokels, and then travelled to Casey's parents place for some snoozin'.

Day 29 – Sunburning and Santa Rosa

In the morning we were greeted with delicious eggs, kale and chick pea salad and peaches whipped up by Casey's mother Mo. Such a lovely lady and crazy delicious food. We were given directions to a local swimming hole in Upper Bidwell Park and set off on an adventure.


The vultures are circling!

The swimming hole was at the mouth of a canyon made up of volcanic rock. We jumped in, washed up and lay on the surrounding rocks. Unfortunately we'd left the sunscreen in the van and our incredible level of comfort precluded a journey back. Somehow we thought a little baking under the unrelenting California sun would do us good.

We were very wrong. About an hour after leaving the swimming hole we began to feel the severity of the burn. Aloe Vera has been frequently and liberally applied.

It's a lizarD

We drove in discomfort to Santa Rosa, headed for the Arlene Francis Centre for the second night of You Are Plural and The Americas, and joining us was a friend of theirs from Tokyo – Masa – who did some solo experimental music under the moniker Killa Ghost Bastard. The evening was grand and we loitered extensively.

Killa Ghost Bastard tweaking the dials -

You Are Plural making with the beauty -

We were lucky enough to get hooked up with a place to stay at a couple named Josh and Sarah's place - they play together with some other cats in a band called The New Trust; Josh also plays in a band called The Velvet Teen. They lived in a sweet old house with a dog named Murray (Bill) and 2 cats. All the bands ended up crashing there and we carried on into the evening, drinking home brew beer and talking music.


Heeeeeeere's Murray!

All of these cats were great, friendly and generous people – we felt pretty damn fortunate. The next day we were all headed for San Francisco with high anticipation – the best burrito joint we'd ever eaten lies in the Mission district.

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