4/4/2009 Albany, NY @ The Muddy Cup
Letters to the Moon
The Rain in Spain
I woke up early and walked Raff to school at Marlboro. It felt good to breathe cold air before noon. We passed cabins and streams as our shoes made wet asphalt sounds. I felt energized. I returned and helped Lilly make accidentally oily, balled up banana blueberry pancakes. Pancakes seem to be a tour theme. Andy wisely put on Devo’s, “Are We Not Men?” We all ate together. Right after Devo, Georgios put on the Latin “Fiddler on the Roof” LP. It solidified my stance on the grounds of a good mood. We had coffee at the school cafeteria. Our new friends who went there all had a part in taking care of the school. We said bye, left them to their collegiate duties, and then ate pizza courtesy of Georgios downtown.
I LIKE VERMONT! Here are some fun facts / confirmed stereotypes.
-You CANNOT idle your car… EVER. There are educational rap songs in local elementary schools that let students know what zup wit da law.
-Men above 50 CAN wear crocks. Green of course.
-Public Breast feeding is as normal as public pizza eating.
-Some kids (Georgios) want to live in TPs in the woods.
-There is a protection group for spotted salamanders. When the ‘manders return for spring, they often cross the road and get smooshed. The group helps them cross. Rad.
-LOVE of nature, progressive thought.
-You can take (Georgios took) an exotic dance as a college course elective. Sweet.
Driving to Albany was beautiful. Gorgeous mountains and small towns turned my head from the road. “Ain’t that America?” I was driving when the snow and wind hit. We made it safely but I basically tensed up my neck and back muscles for the 2 hours we were in the bad weather. It’s a nervous habit.
I was skeptical in regards to the coffee shop show. I thought we might be background music while old men played chess and college kids talked loudly about things ranging from Othello to Obama. The show was awesome though. Seth (Little Foot) did a great job promoting and the turn out was awesome. I got a free latte thingy. She made my drink with extra cuteness. The people at the show all were friends and came from an art show and made us feel really underdressed. I seriously should bring just one dress shirt on tour. Just in case I need to get snazzy. Everyone was approachable though and kind.
American War began the show and again he was great. He won the attention of socializing hip kids, grinding beans, and the occasional froth making.
Peter, a local SUNY Albany student played next. I liked his Ukulele songs. He had a clean, controlled mid-range voice that filled the coffee shop. He brooded for the most part over lovers or his bike which I can relate too even though I know it is cliché.
Lisa and I played a rare plugged in set to avoid competition with espresso machines. There is no sense in competing with those. People are already too deep into the dark side of the bean. We played well.
Locals The Rain in Spain closed the show. They looked ready for fame. Two guys in the band had flowing and groomed neck length hard. I would have dried my freshly washed face with it if given the chance. The drummer had tangled curls under a hat. There were 2 front ladies, both singing in the Jenny Lewis style, harmonizing with ease. One played flute on the side and the other played the keys. I liked that instrument combo. A flute adds such a smooth element of beauty to the music. They both had impeccable style and bright faces. They were very comparable to Rilo Kiley but with more bouncy, redundant pop in the music (not a band thing for a Ramones fan). The sound was tight and overall enjoyable.
After the show, it seemed like the coffee shop was speak easy. Despite prohibition, I was served a cookie. We left and hung out at Seth’s and Pete’s along with our Albany pal Alan. With beer skis in our pockets, we all walked up to Rachel’s apartment. We caused an eruption of dancing. We pogoed and screamed. We Kelly Clarksoned our asses off. I have never danced so hard. Never was I a part of such astounding moves. Drunkenness tucked me under it’s evil armpit. Love was in the air we breathed in the foundation of 666 Myrtle Ave. 5 am showed up with a brightening blue sky. I was kindly put up by my cohorts on an accommodating pull out couch. I was barely down before I was up again with glassy eyes and a queasy stomach. Every day’s a new day.