Tuesday, May 18, 2010

that big old apple

2010. 5/7-5/8. New York City

Chaz is funny in the car. I was given the impression that he sometimes gets a little anxious when he isn't at the wheel. So far nothing even close to backseat driving has occurred other than occasional polite request. The only quirky driving trait I have noticed was after we swapped seats during a pit stop for gas outside of New York City. As soon as the traffic engulfed us, he turned into a completely different driver - aggressive, quick to hit the horn, but safe. I always find it interesting when people have the ability to quickly adapt to a new setting - whether it is walking faster or driving defensively-yet-aggressively. Adaptation is an excellent trait to have.


We parked around the corner from what we kept referring to as "the Neon Indian apartment" and what they referred to as "the penthouse". Ronnie was kind enough to take a cab over from the studio to let us in so we could drop off our belongings and relax for a bit before the show.


"The Penthouse" was one of he nicest apartments I have ever been inside. Three levels of modern Williamsburg loft, and plenty of potential for add-ons. It was like a grown up tree fort. The only downfall of this place is that they only recently moved in so while there was plenty of floor space and big windows, there wasn't much furniture (this would only prove to be a big problem when it was time for bed - I'm the only traveler who forgot a pillow, sleeing bag, and towel).

We pulled ourselves out of our "ready to nap" state and drove to the Music Hall of Williamsburg. We were a little early, so the guys went and picked up burritos while I set up the merch table. Someone from the "Faile" crew was painting a totem pole out front. Here is what the marquee looked like:


And here is a photo from their soundcheck:


Old friends were in attendance (Jen Ray, Chris Parsons) while new ones were made (Lily and Daniel).

After the show, we headed back to the penthouse. We drank what we had, then Danny split to pick up a case of Tecate tall cans. A large crowd formed, and before too long the hanging out turned into a party. Everyone got sloppy, then the party turned into a messy empty apartment.


Everyone wandered to their sleeping area. I passed out in the vacant room of a girl who was traveling, and for the first time in months I was able to sleep until noon.


The next morning, everyone was a little hungover. Ronnie fixed us all tea, then we went our separate ways for the afternoon.

The plan was to hit up some camera stores. Unfortunately, going to a camera store in New York on Saturday is impossible, so the Hollywood Diner filled that void. We got to the Bowery Ballroom with enough time for me to wander the neighborhood until I could find a place to buy a new toothbrush (mine disappeared somewhere around the time we left Toronto), and the boys fit in a nice lengthy sound check. A lot of friends/family came out too!


The show was a success, the after party seemed fun (I had tour managerial duties, aka not letting anyone break into the car), then the night took us back to the penthouse for whatever night's sleep we could get. The absent girl who's room we had crashed in the night before had returned from traveling, so my sleepingbagless state left me resorting to the old "bunch up some dirty laundry and use it as a pillow" strategy - the hardwood floors weren't as cozy as that bed was...

The next morning, I woke up (and was wide awake) after about 3 hours of sleep. I didn't want to sit around and wait for everyone else to do the same, so I decided to do some exploring. About two blocks down the road, I got a call from one of my favorite people in the world, Karen, and my new friend, Phil. They were awake, too. They took the subway over to Brooklyn and we met up for coffee. Patrick woke up and joined us, too.


After we finished our coffee, we headed back to the penthouse for last minute hanging and goodbyes before we packed it up and headed to Philadelphia.

1 comment:

  1. wow sounds epic! you're a good story teller jordan

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