It’s 2:25 a.m. on Thursday, and I am still hiding out after a week in New Bern. Jet lag apparently will not fade, as I am finding myself up very late and having trouble waking up prior to noon.

I’ve stayed pretty quiet this week, other than shooting a wedding and taking approximately a million photos inside my house, specifically photographing old family photos I’ve dug up from the closet so I can archive them digitally. I spent a lot of time with my mom, brother, and estranged cat, Raphael (who has been living with my mom for the last two years because I’m too scared to fly him across to SF).

This is my mom and my cat.

This is my brother.

The wedding I photographed was that of a good friend from high school, Ellen. Here are a few shots from the day… if you were a guest and want to see the rest of the wedding photos, you’ll be getting a private link from Ellen shortly.

PS – Don’t judge me for my lack of wedding watermark awesomeness. I’ll design a better one at some point in the future.

The family photos I’ve been photographing have been to make THIS:

(You can click the photo to see the whole page.)

I’ve been making memory pages for my entire extended family, including myself. The experience has been pretty freaking amazing – I finally own photos of my Dad (I owned absolutely none prior to this), I saw what my grandfather looked like for the first time (as well as many great-aunts, uncles, and three out of four great-grandparents), have tons of ridiculous photos of my mom and her sisters from the 70s, and have been up with my mom until 3 a.m. every night listening to her tell stories. Honestly, you really need to do this next time you go home. It’s still blowing my mind. I’ll write more about it in the near future.

So tomorrow (I mean today) I’ll be waking up early, and my long-time adventure buddy and ultimate bro Logan (you can click that link to see an old photo of us posing with my childhood piano trophies) is going to pick me up and we’re going to explore the depths of Eastern North Carolina, as we agreed this would be a proper thing for us to do while I’m home. So we’re going to Aurora and exploring fossil fuel pits. I’ll take photos.

PS – I’ll be back in Raleigh tomorrow night, and would like to see all of you RDU folk. You will likely find me somewhere near the intersection of Hargett and Wilmington streets by nightfall, FYI.

That’s all, I’m off to bed.

END!

After a long weekend of airport waiting, flying, and shooting/editing photos until the wee hours of the morning, and attempting to catch up with lots and lots and lots of people I hadn’t seen in nine months, all I wanted to do was nothing. And what better place to do nothing than New Bern, NC?

So I hopped into a car and headed two hours east to my hometown.

[This is my all-too-familiar drive between my two home cities, full of tobacco fields, car dealerships, strip malls, and jesus billboards.]

I spent the majority of the next few days doing things I don’t otherwise get to do:

- Eat disgusting/awesome Southern fast food.

- Hang out with my cat (I’m a long-distance cat owner, btw).

- Hang out with my mom and watch Oprah and HGTV.

One of the particularly exciting things about this vacation is the fact that I’m having a visitor while I’m here – my boyfriend Aaron. I’ve never had a visitor on vacation before. I don’t think there are many circumstances where it is possible. But my visitor was to arrive on Thursday morning and I was to spend the rest of my trip acquainting him with the dirty south.

I spend day one showing Aaron all of my favorite hangouts in Raleigh, including Raleigh Times, Morning Times, Helios, Foundation, Busy Bee, Sosta, etc. I quickly realize my enjoyment of Raleigh revolves completely around food and drink.

After a day in Raleigh, I feel that it’s best to head toward the coast for a proper southern experience. We head out onto Highway 70 with all intentions of arriving in New Bern by early afternoon, but end up on a spontaneous adventure to Nahunta Pork Center instead.

Some context: I have seen billboards for Nahunta Pork Center almost my entire life. Billboard after billboard after billboard on Highway 70, all urging me to go to this mythical place. Everyone who drives this highway knows about Nahunta Pork Center, but I’ve never met anyone who has actually been. So… now might as well be that time. We make the turn. We drive 30 minutes off the highway into rural desolation to find ourselves in the middle of what is basically a giant grocery store, full of every pork product you can imagine. We purchase some ribs and country ham (another first for Aaron), awkwardly take photos while the locals stare, and continue on our way to New Bern.

I should mention that we’re arriving in New Bern on its tricentennial weekend. Yes, New Bern is turning 300. The people are excited, and there are lots of festivities planned. Festivities defined not really by San Francisco standards, but by 300-year-old coastal town standards.

[parade photos courtesy of my mom.]

Parades, symphony concerts, fireworks and the like.

Other than that, we spent most of our time on the water or at the beach or playing with Raphael or eating BBQ. All in all, it was a very very good trip to the south.

Here are a few photos.

See you next year, east coast!

END!

Earlier this year (probably March or so), I was stalking Raleigh news (as usual) and noticed that some friends were putting on a music festival. Not like our standard NC music festivals, which involve shitty U2 cover bands as headliners. This was a legitimate music festival, with good, independent, relevant bands. It was to be legitimately awesome. So, naturally, I impulse-bought a $120 VIP ticket.

I guess I’d be going to NC in September.

Months later, everything came together and I was packing my bags to spend an entire ten (!) days in North Carolina. It turns out that The Independent (the publication who was putting this whole thing on) needed some press photographers, and I jumped at the chance. I sold my old VIP ticket (to the much deserving Kelly Reid) and secured my press pass. I was ready to go.

But then things got complicated.

Complication #1: San Bruno explodes.

Thursday night. I’m finishing up with preparations before Aaron takes me to the airport. I’m in the kitchen when I hear… “Uhhh, Helena? I think we may have a problem.”

I come into my room to see Aaron watching the news. Apparently San Bruno’s on fire.

[photocredit: Scott Fong]

I feel like most of you have caught wind (no pun intended) of the news as it since went national, but apparently a giant PG&E pipe exploded underneath San Bruno, setting the neighborhood on fire. Total unworldly catastrophe. I should mention that San Bruno is right next to the airport that I’m supposed to be flying out of in four hours.

We continue to watch the news to see what we should do, and see that the Highway 280 (what we would use to get to the airport) is completely shut down. That puts a bit of a damper on our plans. Hm.

After a couple of hours, we decide to take the scenic route down the 101 to the airport, and surprisingly, we arrived quickly with not an obstacle in our way. We gazed at the burning mountain passing by us as we approached the airport.

Aaron drops me off and we say our goodbyes. I was in.

Obstacle 2: The plane doesn’t work.

I quickly get through security and arrive at my gate with plenty of time before my flight. I’m taking the redeye – I’m to leave SFO at approximately 12:30, and will arrive in Raleigh before noon, just in time to catch all of the Hopscotch day parties, and see lots of old friends I haven’t seen in ages, including the Hometapes crew, who I toured with last summer and haven’t seen since, and who happen to be hosting a 7-hour day party with my favorite bands, people, PopTarts and nachos. Needless to say, I was looking forward to it.

We board the plane, I check my bag at the door (if you haven’t tried it yet, don’t check your bags with Delta! You can just check it at the plane, and save yourself $25), and get settled. I casually glance at the checked bag receipt. Flight 666.

We sit. And we sit. And we sit. We sit for like an hour. Finally, the captain comes on at 1:15 or so and tells us that the left engine is broken, but they’re trying to see if they can “fix it real quick before we take off.” This feels good.

Around 1:30 the captain tells us it’s still broken, but they’re continuing to hack at it. We continue to sit. The engine is clearly shot but we’re just going to sit in it for a while anyway. Maybe it’ll work if we sit in it long enough.

Finally around 2 am, the captain tells us that our flight is in fact cancelled, and we’re all to head back to the front gate to see if we can be rescheduled for another flight tomorrow. I now miss a full day of shooting, as well as seeing all of my friends at the coolest day-party-friend-reunion I could possibly imagine. Fantastic.

Let me tell you, I have a history of exceptionally bad experiences with Delta. Well, maybe they’re not exceptional, because it seems like everyone hates Delta. If you used to be on my old travel-adventure email list, you may remember one of my previous Delta nightmare stories, which actually resulted in me getting a $400 voucher which I used on a vacation to San Francisco which caused me to fall in love with the city and eventually move here.

Anyway.

Delta semi-reschedules me for a 6 am flight. I ask the teller if I’m guaranteed a spot on this flight, because I HAVE to get to Raleigh for a job tomorrow. He says yes and gives me a $12 food voucher for my troubles. THANK YOU DELTA. I walk away, checking my ticket. I’m on the flight’s waiting list. This is all going wonderfully.

So now it’s 2:30, and I’m stuck inside my own airport. What do I do now? I give Aaron a call, despite the fact that there’s nothing he can do about it. Apparently he thought I was the alarm clock, because he “snoozed” me twice. I call my mom, because at this point I’m delirious and apparently don’t mind being a late-night calling asshole, but she didn’t answer either.

Man, it’s a pretty awful feeling being stuck in an airport overnight. You sort of feel homeless. Since security was closed until the morning, I couldn’t even go into the gates to sleep. I trudged into a tiny food court at the front of the airport and settled into a booth to sleep.

[this is the view from my regal food court bed.]

My mom calls me a half-hour into my nap to tell me that she was already expecting this to happen, as her horoscope told me that my flight would have complications and that it was all happening for a good reason. Susan Miller‘s on point ya’ll, just sayin’.

Fast forward to 6 am. My name is finally called as the last one on the waiting list as I gobble my shitty twelve-dollar breakfast panini, compliments of Delta. I hop on my flight, finally en route to North Cack.

I arrive around 5 pm. My mom and Barry Barrington (that is her boyfriend and yes that is his name) pick me up and take me home to rest for about 15 minutes. I try to make myself look slightly less homeless, then head straight downtown to begin shooting. I’m feeling a bit strange, having only physically laid down and half-slept for one hour in two days.

Hopscotch night one was rad. I saw approximately one million people I haven’t seen in nine months. I saw lots of incredible bands. I got to spend time with my best friends. Hopscotch night two was about the same, and I was fortunately a bit more rested. I won’t get into much more detail, mostly because I was in zombie mode and don’t remember much of it, but here are some photos from the weekend.

Broken Social Scene

Americans In France

Panda Bear

Atlas Sound (my favorite performance of the night)

Raekwon

The Rosebuds

Sharon Van Etten

Bear In Heaven

Spontaneous appearance by Helping Hands Marching Band during Public Enemy

Megafaun

No Age

The Love Language

NC adventures part 2 to come. END!

After awaking from my 15-hour couch nap, I was onward to Phase 3 of my trip: hitching a ride to my hometown of New Bern, NC.

My brother was off work for the night and offered to tote me. He would arrive at 1:00. This would all be great, if my belongings weren’t strewn all over Raleigh.

Most of my luggage was stored at friend Sam’s house, which wasn’t of much use, as I hadn’t actually stayed there at all during this trip. As many of you know, planning while traveling isn’t really my thing.

It would be easy to swing by and pick up my stuff, but unfortunately, Sam was nowhere to be found. So Logan and I decided to go search the establishment most likely to find her in – The Busy Bee. I decided to call brother Kane and friend Erika over to meet us for brunch in the meantime.

We found Sam, and we found brunch. I got a key, and we were on our way to find my luggage.

Upon arrival, I spend a good five minutes trying to get in the front door of her apartment with the key she had provided me, but to no avail.

I try and try and try. Kane asks me if I am sure I have the right door. I tell him he is being silly.

I was definitely at the wrong apartment. I’m sure the crowd of people cooking out outside were a bit confused to see me try to break into two adjacent apartments, successfully entering the second one. I hastily grabbed my luggage and we were on our way.

After two hours of observing eastern Carolina’s brilliantly designed storefronts and billboards, we finally arrived in the homeland to find my mother and my baby catchild, Raphael, waiting for us.

Raphael was my partner in crime in Raleigh. He was my only roommate, and we were serious compadres. I gave him to Kane to babysit while I toured the country this summer, and he soon ended up with my mom in New Bern. I had all plans to fly him over to California upon my settling in, but as I predicted, my mother has become quite infatuated with him and is not so ready to give him up. For now, it is probably for the best, as I will probably be touring and traveling quite a bit in the near future… but I do miss him so so much. He is my precious white monstrous yeti cat child.

Raph apparently has a new fun habit of climbing onto the outside edge of the second-story patio, just for shits and giggles. I’m not entirely sure how he hasn’t died yet. But there’s not much you can do other than just let him do it.

Anyway. Enough about the cat.

My one night in New Bern was great. The three of us ate soup, sat on the porch, played fetch with Raph, and nerded out on our computers together until the wee hours of the morning.

The next day I spent my last New Bern meal at none other than Carolina Bagel (yet to find bagels that compare, even in San Francisco), then took a final walk around downtown with the family, shooting some glamour shots here and there. I’m getting them to work on their sweet model poses while I’m gone. All of us will be pros by Christmas.

(PC: Annette Stone)

Goodbye, North Carolina. I love you, but west coast is calling.

END!

Greetings from North Carolina. I write to you as I wait patiently for 4:30 AM, the time I should awake and begin preparing to head to the airport. I have just finished up a week in my glorious home state.

I arrived at approximately 9:49 AM Thursday morning. I had expected ample sleeping time on my red-eye flight, but the fact that I was situated in the middle seat prevented that. And with the token obese-man-with-gas-problem to my left, I was at the optimum level of contentment, I assure you.

Raleigh couldn’t come soon enough. My compadre Sam was kind enough to tote me downtown, and I had things to do.

Day 1: Day of Raleigh clichés.

Objective: Basically do everything I would normally do in my typical Raleigh day prior to moving.

Tasks:
- Do work at Morning Times. Probably buy an iced soy chai latte with a shot of espresso. Maybe a apple brie sandwich as well.
- Go to Sitti (bar where I worked when I lived in Raleigh). Receive back massage from Ken the bartender. Order to-go food (likely a goat cheese and orange salad, chicken kabob, hummus, maybe okra stew, bread and bread and bread) minutes before dinner hours to have access to lunch prices.
- Take to-go food to Blue Martini (other bar where I worked when I lived in Raleigh). Set up elaborate Lebanese food buffet across the bar to be enjoyed exclusively by me and Tara, my homedog/general manager. A Wednesday tradition.
- Have a Dagmar (the martini named after me) at Blue Martini while food settles.
- Go to Raleigh Times for dinner. Likely a BBQ sandwich. Greyhound may also be involved.
- Go to Foundation to check out seasonal drink menu. Pick one. Enjoy.
- Go to Busy Bee. Mandatory order of The Sting and tater tots.
- Go to Landmark for bloody mary or Kriekbeer.

And that I did.

I’m surprised I didn’t take more photos. It may have had something to do with the 80 people I ran into on every corner. I kid you not – I probably caught up with more than 150 people in the first day, just strolling around the neighborhood. Good to be back, Raleigh.

END!

I keep finding myself crossing paths with Raleigh folk in this new city of mine. I feel like a good many alumni of NCSU’s College of Design either migrate to New York or San Francisco… and I don’t blame them, as they’re both meccas of design and technology. It’s basically the same reason I moved here.

There are so many great Raleigh folk here!

There’s Dakota, my travel buddy who quickly transplanted to San Fran not long after I met her, to design for Dwell Magazine. I stayed with her in SF for a good bit last summer, and spent my days exploring and generally pretending I lived there while she worked. I had no idea I’d be living here a year later.

There’s Laura, who I met through some folks last summer. She did her time in Raleigh before I ever arrived. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see her again, but since I moved here I’ve been seeing a lot of her.

There’s Tara, who just moved here a couple of weeks ago. She originally took a job in Honduras, and should still be working there, but ended up in the middle of a revolution and had to come back to America. So now she’s in Berkeley.

There’s Scott, who has spent his past year around and about the world, living in South America for a while, then biking across the country, ending here in San Fran.

Scott’s birthday was a few days ago, so I met up with him and Tara in the park and celebrated. It was a Friday night and the park was full of people. I can’t imagine that happening in Raleigh. Moore’s Square on a Friday night, anyone? No takers?

We all still can’t believe we’re hanging out in California… or that we live here.

The next night, I headed to Berkeley to re-join Tara, as well as FIVE other Raleigh-alumni, for dinner. I met three of them for the first time that night, but the other two, Kelly-Murdoch Kitt and Nik Shah, just took a lengthy drive across the country, with Kelly ending things here to finally live with her fiance, and Nik continuing down to San Diego for a design job.

I was about an hour late arriving, as I am still figuring out the BART system. I had never been to Berkeley before, but figured it was simple. It’s a straight shot on the BART. At the first station, I was being impatient while waiting for the direct train, so I hopped on another one and figured I’d just wait in Oakland for the correct one. So that’s what I did. Twenty minutes of waiting in Oakland later, I decide to check the schedule, as I did not see my train scheduled to arrive anytime soon. Upon investigation, I notice that my train stopped running at 7:00. It’s 7:23.

I call Tara and ask her how the hell she gets back to Berkeley at night. She explains to me that I have to connect at the main Oakland station. So I hop back on the next train, after letting many pass me by, connect in Oakland, and finally make it to Berkeley. I should mention I also got off at the wrong stop and then lost on the way home. Impressive.

We ate Malaysian food at Kelly’s recommendation (she spent last summer here and knows what’s awesome), and it was off the chain. I tried to make everyone take a jumping picture at the end, but we were all full and uncoordinated, so we just settled on a regular off-center crooked group photo.

I had a visit from two of my college best friends, Laura and Andrew, visiting from Houston and Sacramento, respectively. They were my next stop for the night. I’ve been third wheel on their dates for FOUR years now, and I was excited to get back to it for a night. We started things off at Flour + Water, and ended things up back in Dolores Park once again. We reminisced and told stories and drank tequila until 3:30 AM, when some drunk guys who had been screaming into the darkness about how they hated every single one of us began to fight each other and a few random people in close proximity to them. We felt it was wise to leave before they wanted to involve us.

I’ve noticed that, in somehow meeting tons of people here who happen to be from Raleigh (they had already moved away before I ever made it to Raleigh), NC folk seem to stick together. But not necessarily in a “we’re settling on each other for a convenient friend group” kind of way. More of a… “we all moved on to pursue our careers or a more fulfilling life experience, and we all also happen to be from North Carolina” thing. It’s this automatic bond, knowing the ins and outs of southern culture, all of its pros, cons, quirks and distinct differences from the west coast. We know what grits are (I just met a guy from Greensboro at the bar last night and we spent 10 minutes discussing this). We know that there is a difference between having a BBQ, grilling out, cooking out, and having Cookout. We remember the days when we could smile and wave at strangers on the street without them thinking we’re either coming on to them or that we’re just crazy. We all miss porches. We understand people they they say “fixin’ to” (“what? what are you fixing?”) and “put it up” (“up where?” “just… put it up!”). I could go on. But we all adore the west coast and are so happy to finally live out our potential in our lives and our careers. I think it’s pretty neat, personally.

That’s all for now.

END!

Just a hodgepodge of random Raleigh photos from 2009.

I finally graduated from college. I say “finally” as if it took me longer than expected, but I finished in four years. I’ve just been ready to graduate for about 3.5 years now.

Graduation jump.

The day eventually progressed into what became a night of drinks and debauchery with an eclectic group of folks, including my mother.

State Capitol grounds post-beverages jump.

A night to remember.

8/9/2007 – Wilmington to Charlotte

I wake up in a mysterious female’s bed (mysterious female being gone,
obviously) with a giiiiiaaaant headache. I wander out into the living
room to find a bunch of greasy homeless looking people who happen to
be my tour mates. After a good bathe and a trip to Bojangles, we
headed on our way to Charlotte.

This is our second stop at The Evening Muse, located in the NoDa arts
district in South Charlotte. We took note last time around that this
spot is more of a listening room than a rock-out venue, so we decided
to make it an easy night and play it soft. We arrived at around 7pm,
just in time for the early show (The Muse does an early show and a
late show every night). We walked in to find a smaller guy, with
puffy curly brown hair, a brasil tank-top and jeans on, who looked
much like somebody I’d see on a high school soccer team. I figured he
was a local who was taking the stage in front of a few friends for
open mic night.

Wrong. This minute this kid (actually, he was at least 10 years my
senior and married) opened his mouth (I was in the bathroom at the
time), I was blown away. I thought he had a voice much like Jason
Isbell at first, much once he got started, I could see how the boys
kept comparing him to Dylan/Simon. I took a few videos and just
soaked in the rest. I’m not kidding guys, this is one of the best
one-man acoustic acts I have EVER SEEN. His name is Jeremy Fisher, by
the way. He’s from Vancouver, which makes him even more awesome in my
book.

You can go look at his newest music video here:

or just go see him at:

http://www.jeremyfishermusic.com

hooh. Okay enough about Jeremy (I could go on for hours more).

We went out for fish tacos after Jeremy’s set ended, and made it back
in time to unload our junk in the sweltering heat (the temps had risen
to 106 freaking degrees that day). That’s the one downside about this
place – there is no back door to load our equipment through, and even
if we loaded in through the front door, we’d have nowhere to store our
equipment inside until show time. It’s kind of hard to explain, but
we have a TON of equipment (instruments, boxes and cases for the
instruments, instrument stands, drummer and keyboard stools, amps,
PA’s, and my plethora of merch crap) and we are used to hauling it all
into a venue around 7pm before anyone arrives, then setting up the
instruments and letting them sit until it’s time to play them. In
this case, we are literally setting up drums and instruments on the
sidewalk outside the venue in 90-some degree heat at 10:00 at night.
It is by no means glorious.

Finally, we got the set started, and it sounded great. None of us had
really been drinking, since we weren’t supplied an endless supply of
free beer and we are poor. Therefore, Zack wasn’t wasted, and the
rest of the boys weren’t wasted, so everyone was on point. The show
was very intimate (as it always is in that venue), and BJ spent about
an hour rambling incessantly to the audience, but it was well
received. I made a CD exchange with Jeremy Fisher towards the end of
AA’s set (it is not uncommon for bands sharing the same bill to switch
CD’s during shows, a sort of exchange of material and contact
information), which always excites me when the band exchanging with us
is actually good.

Just as the set ended, 12:00 hit and MY BIRTHDAY STARTED! We packed
up our junk, and a group of NC State alum ladies who attended the show
were ready to take us out in downtown Charlotte. We didn’t actually
make it to the bar until 1:00 a.m., so everyone fed me birthday shots
for the last hour while I chatted with Charlotte natives. Eventually,
we headed back to friend Erin’s penthouse condo right down the block,
and the boys settled down to sleep while Zack and Jeremy and I pounded
on the piano for a couple of hours before we too passed out. Good
completely random adventure with strangers for the first half of my
birthday. Off to Columbia tomorrow.

8/8/2007 – Raleigh to Wilmington

We are looking forward to our second leg of the summer tour. We’ve
already played more than 25 states, driven through 39… so this is more
of a replay for us, with bigger crowds, larger $$ guarantees, and a
couple of new cities in the mix. All of us are absolutely giddy about
being back on the road after a month and a half of living back in the
real world.

As usual, we get off to a late start. My fault this time. With my
luck, I had a court date today, and my attorney didn’t show up. We
were supposed to depart for Wilmington at 3:00. My court date was at
2:00, and I figured I’d be done early enough to meet the boys on time.
Come 3:30, I was literally the last person sitting in the court room,
and the court finally granted me a continuance, even though that’s
what I would have gotten anyway, considering the judge had called in
sick that day. Whatever. We left an hour late and headed eastward
toward the coast.

As last time, there are six of us crammed in BJ’s 5-seated trailblazer
(Jeremy has replaced Amos this time around), so I got to sleep in the
seatless back compartment. It was actually quite comfortable. Before
I knew it, we were pulling up to Bella Festa, where we played the
first show of our first leg this summer. They definitely remembered
us. We brought in our junk, and set out to find some grub in downtown
Wilmington.

Wednesday was forecasted as the hottest day yet in this ridiculous
weather spell. As you can imagine, we were all drenched in sweat
after load-in, and all we wanted to do was find a nice tasty spot with
a good functional AC unit. Well, little did we know.. in bigger
buildings (such as music venues and restaurants) where there is much
more volume to cool, if it gets hot enough, AC units will just shut
off. Not break.. just stop working temporarily. I also learned today
that most properly functioning AC units are only capable of cooling a
space approximately 20 degrees… so, if it is 90 degrees outside, you
can enjoy a 70 degree indoor space. Fine. But if it’s 105 degrees…
you are taking refuge in a minimum of 85 degrees, IF the AC hasn’t
shut down yet. Needless to say, cool spots were not easy to find. In
fact, we never found one. We ate a tasty meal at Tony’s Pub, a huge
restaurant that looked like a renovated boat warehouse (judging by the
structure.. it was not decorated in corny nautical memorabilia or
anything), with a broken AC unit. Some would call it miserable. We
made the best of it though.

We headed back to Bella Festa, settled down, and began sampling IPA’s
as the opening band began their set. We knew that The Pomegranates,
who came down all the way from Cincinnati, compared themselves to The
Arcade Fire, The Kinks, Interpol, etc.. but that’s quite a bit to
live up to. We were ready to find out if they could hold their own.
Well.. they absolutely rocked it. Really.. these kids were such
talented musicians. They formed last fall, put an album out this
spring, and got signed a week later. Looks like they’re doing
something right. Zack, who is probably the biggest Arcade
Fire/Interpol-ish advocate of the group, was giddy over it. After the
set, me and Beej bought tee-shirts and coloring books (yes, they sell
their own hand-made coloring books and they are awesome), and after a
bit of chit chat, found out that they are friends of J-Roddy Walston &
the Business, good friends of ours and basically the hardest rockers
you will ever meet.

So –

Go listen to the Pomegranates now:

http://www.myspace.com/pomegranatesart

Aaaand just for kicks, go take a gander at J-Roddy and The Business:

http://www.myspace.com/jroddy

So.. as the second band takes the stage, the boys continue to nurse
IPA’s while I just wander around recording videos. Eventually, Zack
makes his way over to me, plops down on the couch beside me, and
explains to me that “heeeeeeeeeschwasted.” (“he’s wasted,” for those
of you who can’t yet translate drunkspeak.. I’ve been forced to learn)
I recommend that he cut back on the drinks a little bit before he goes
on stage, because he wants to play a good show. He then tells me has
to go do shots and runs off.

Come stage time, Zack was sloppy. The set consisted mostly of
unintentional dissonance, Zack demanding to play certain songs or
simply refusing to play others, and quitting the band a few times in
between songs. Honestly, from an audience standpoint, it really
wasn’t a bad show at all. The songs were still solid. The boys were
NOT happy though. To add to the irony, this is the one show where the
sound guy makes a legit recording of each show, so we had this set
preserved in all its glory to enjoy forevermore.

Well, what do touring musicians do to rid themselves of their sorrows?
Drink more.

We head back to the home of BJ’s good friend Josh.. the same house we
stayed in last time we played Wilmington. Since the last show, BJ’s
other good friend, Pud, had moved in, which just made the situation
even more unhealthy. If you don’t remember what happened last time
we stayed at Josh’s house, I will include an excerpt from my last
Wilmington tour log:

[[[from 5/15/07:

1) Amos and Bill both peed in the empty lot beside the house while we
were unloading the van. Apparently that lot was in fact the yard of a
police chief. We later had a visit from this police chief, and Josh's
roommate, which happened to be a belligerent female idiot. She ended
up fussing out the policeman, in a vocal tirade which included
snippets such as "we are all over 21, you can't do shit!" and "I
can't help it if my daddy has money!" Great move. Fortunately, the
officer just made them remove the van from the lot and went on his
way.
2) Josh ended up sleeping with his belligerent female Delawarean
roommate that night, for the first time ever. I predict that he is
exiled within 6 months.
3) The belligerent female continued her vocal tirade within the house,
looking for her "f*cking phoooone" and calling random friends,
demanding for them to come over and sleep with BJ (whom none of them
had ever met), telling them "I don't give a f*ck about your emotions!"
No success. Somehow I never heard a thing.
4) Zach awoke for a moment to find the belligerent female kissing him
in bed. Awkward. She left soon after to assault Josh.]]]

Funny thing – Josh is moving out soon.. looks like my prediction was correct.

Okay, so none of that happened again, this time… at least to that
degree. Zack passed out in the car on the way to the house, and we
decided that it would be a good thing to let him continue napping in
an enclosed space in 95 degree nighttime heat. 4 hours later, sloppy
Zack trudges into the house, compleeeetely soaked in his own sweat.
It was beautiful. Other than that, I earned the respect of BJ’s
friends after I dominated them in beer pong, and the boys bonded with
some new ladyfriends. We all eventually settled down and went to bed
around 6:30 a.m.

I’d say it was another successful show in Wilmington, despite a ruined
recording opportunity and Zack quitting the band again (and again, and
again). Honestly though, if our nights were devoid of complications,
I would have nothing to write about. Let the debauchery continue.