Road Music:
Lesson learned:
Carrots actually do have to be refrigerated. But apples don't.
Jun. 28, 2001
Clemson, SC
So it turns out Andy wasn't quite expecting me when I showed up at his house at 1:00 in the morning. He'd told me he was going to leave the light on and the garage door open for me, and since those things were both true, I just assumed he'd gone to bed and walked in without knocking. Turns out he was on the phone with his girlfriend in the kitchen and quite shocked to see a stranger with a guitar and a suitcase standing in the doorway all of a sudden. Andy's a friend of Alan's whom I've never met before. I only know that the web site for his band, Mectapus, is hysterical. (For proof, go to Mectapus.com and read the "Motto Grotto".) I'd e-mailed him to get directions to his house; he'd just forgotten all about it. He was up late working on his thesis (topic: bird migration), which was due the next day, so it's quite understandable, really.
But so now here I am in Clemson, which is your basic friendly college town. I get a craving for Chick-Fil-A and decide to drive back out to Easley because I remember seeing a Chick-Fil-A when I drove through there last night. Boy does it hit the spot. Since my gig tonight is in Clemson I literally have an entire day with nothing to do. This is turning out to be more of a real vacation than I thought it would be. As luck would have it, this Chick-Fil-A has a lovely little table in the front lawn under a tree, so I set up shop there with my notebook and my guitar and do some practicing and writing for several hours. It feels really good to have the time to do that! The song isn't turning out so great, but the idea is good, and at least I'm writing again.
I drive back to Clemson, having given myself a lovely farmer's tan to go with my Renaissance Festival tan. I now have burned shoulders and burned arms with a little white stripe in between. It looks like I went out wearing arm bands or something. I realize all of a sudden that my extension cord is for 2-pronged electrical plugs and that my mixer has a 3-pronged plug. I stop at an Ace Hardware to get a little adapter thingie. I realize that I have officially been spending too much time alone because my brain starts to play this game where I'm on a game show called Who Wants to Be a Professional Musician and gives me positive or negative points based on what I've done today. For forgetting to save my receipt from lunch I lose 2 points. For using my free time to play guitar, I gain 5 points. For forgetting to buy a plug adapter before leaving Atlanta I lose 2 points, but I get 2 for remembering to get it before the show tonight. For realizing that my carrots are a soggy, disgusting mess from being in the car, I lose 1 point. I don't understand why my brain is doing this right now. I decide to get a drink at a pizza restaurant to kill the game-playing brain cells and lose 2 points for wondering if it's tax deductible.
I find the Coffee House & Wine Bar without a problem, and it happens to be right across the street from Manifest Records, my favorite kind of little indie college town music store. I buy cheap CD's by Eliza Carthy and Joan Osbourne. I leave my planner in the magazine rack, which would have lost me about 200 points and ruined my life besides, but luckily it's still there when I go back.
Once again, I'm about three hours early for my gig, but it gives me a chance to hang out with the guys behind the counter, who are great. Glenn, the owner and the guy who booked me here, is very cool. He tells me I can order whatever I want, on the house. I get a bagel and some broccoli and cheese soup (which is surprisingly spicy) and think about how nice everyone has been to me so far. Being on the road seems to give me this legitimacy as an artist that I don't have in Atlanta; it's nice. Kind of funny, though. I sort of want to say, "You know I'm nobody, right?" But then again, this is the payoff for the many demos I sent out and the endless hours of phone calls I made. I did this.
The show itself is fine but not one of my best; I'm a little nervous about the PA system, and I'm still remembering how to play solo, without the band. Someone in the audience has to help me with the sound, which is a little embarassing, but whatever. I lose 5 points by trying to play a solo in "I Steal Hearts" that I wrote earlier today at Chick-Fil-A and never bothered to practice standing up. But other than that it's a lot of fun, and there are plenty of people there who all seem to be enjoying themselves. I meet Robin's sister Ginny, who seems really cool, though sadly I don't manage to meet up with her later at one of the bars. Instead I go back to Glenn's house and go to bed. I have a long drive tomorrow.
Road Music:
Lesson learned:
Carrots actually do have to be refrigerated. But apples don't.