GP and I poked around the Village and found a good diner just across the Avenue of the Americas. By all the fetish sex shops with the leather-clad mannequins on fuck-swings in the windows. Ahh, New York. On the way back to the church we visited a street haberdashery and I bought a stylish straw fedora on the cheap. Ahh, New York!
We managed to dodge most of the inclement weather on our return trip. We got a torrential downpour in Manhattan while stuck in traffic on the West Side highway. Part of the traffic problems were created by a trolley-bus that had partially caught fire. As we past the partially blackened bus, the acrid smell of burned and melted plastic almost stung our noses.
We finally broke free of the traffic and hit the G.W. Bridge. GP remarked that New York is like an amusement park where they charge you to enter but it's free to leave; New Yorkers make sure you pay up front.
We made good time on our trek through Pennsyl-tucky to Scranton, listening to some great old-time and banjo music that GP had in his MP3 player. He had tunes from the Varnish Cooks' first album, and I hadn't heard them in quite awhile. It's interesting how we've changed the tunes and our sound has grown. Subsequent adjustments in tempo in several of our songs have made a big difference in the feel and delivery.
We met my dad at the Enterprise Rent-A-Car joint in Taylor, just outside of Scranton. We unloaded the rental and wearily climbed into dad's Subaru. We stopped off at a store off 81 and I got some junk snacks & a Coke, and the caffeine didn't keep me awake much. I spent most of the trip in and out of sleep.
I'm still in recovery from this odyssey, and it feels like it could take a few more days of extra sleep and rest to make up for all the sleep I lost down there on floors and a thin air-mattress. My brain is still on strike, and thinking about stuff is a chore today, so I can't really evaluate the trip as a whole. It's definitely going to make for a good yarn in the future... it wasn't a boring trip at all. We played a couple of good shows, I had great camaraderie, and it was cool to check out the Village, but I don't feel like it was a thoroughly enjoyable experience. I think maybe I'm too damn old to sleep on floors for not much money. I don't know. It wasn't exactly a thrill-a-minute though.
Perhaps I'm not as cut out to be a professional musician as I thought I was. Live and learn, eh?
In any event, it's oh so nice to be home, and to sleep in my own bed again!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Tag dude, you're it...
Tag, you're it again.
Post a Comment