The drive to Northwood, NH is exceptionally pleasant and Kathy lives right on a lake with a beautiful view that I stare out at while tuning her 1910 Steinway upright piano. It’s a great hang while I’m working too as I pull out all the keys and we vacuum up 100 years worth of dust and then glue the ivory fronts back on a handful of keys. Tuned up, it sounds glorious.
I’ve scheduled this tuning as a half-way point to Portland, ME and Hi-Fidelity brewing where I’m playing tonight. There’s some traffic here but nothing compared to L.A. but probably really bad for here.
Hi Fidelity is located in a loading dock area right near the water in Portland but unfortunately, you can’t see the water from the venue. I’m the first one here, not including Dante, the owner/brewer and he tells me that he got into brewing the same way as everyone else, went to college to get a philosophy degree and found a home brew kit in the basement of a place he was staying.* He makes me some red beans and rice and it’s super tasty. More folks come in and then Darrell and Tracy show up. I haven’t seen Darrell in over 20 years** and we have an amazing catch up. He and Tracy run a mental health treatment center called Onward Transitions in Portland and I’m excited to learn about all they’re doing. We sit and talk until it’s time to perform. We make vague plans to do stuff next year that I really hope we pull together. I’m so excited for them and the work that they are doing here.
First off, there is no stage. I set up behind the bar in a cleared spot. They have PA speakers up next to the ceiling and there’s an X made with tape on the floor that signifies where I can’t go further in front of or the microphone will feed back. It’s a little DIY but nothing crazy and the sound is decent. Dante has left and PD has taken over the bar and is also running sound. And he knows what he’s doing with the mixing board but he won’t stop adjusting it. In the monitor my vocals are loud and then quiet, guitar is way loud and then quiet and then both are loud again and then quiet. I try to roll with it but it’s annoying because I keep changing the way I’m singing because what I’m hearing keeps changing.
But it’s not bad. There’s a handful of people and they are all listening as I sing, strum and spin a yarn or two. The whole time I’m playing there’s one dude at the bar with a flat cap on that keeps staring at me like he knows me and he does look very familiar but I can’t place him.
There’s something to seeing people out of context from where you know them from that messes with your mind - it’s like, I know this person but I don’t know them HERE.
The show ends, it’s not bad but my throat is sore from the vocal gymnastics I’ve been doing and I know there were times when I was singing and the weird mix and bounce back from the walls really had me second guessing notes. As I’m picking up stuff flat cap guy comes over and says “Hey Bobbo, it’s me, Seth Asa.” and my mind is blown. I met Seth at a TAXI road rally in like…2005 and in Los Angeles. Last I knew he had moved from Boise to Portland but I didn’t think it meant Portland ~ MAINE. I thought he was in Oregon because, well, that was just closer. Seth and I sit down and talk songwriting and his old band Pretty Youth and how they recorded 54 albums*** and how he’s working in the theater here and shit, we even cover the recording process, and making tape loops and Lanois style producing. Before I notice it, it’s nearing 11 pm and I have a 2 hour drive back to Lunenburg.
I have been drinking nothing but water all night and right now I’m wishing I drank something with caffeine because this drive is long now. I end up pulling over twice and sleeping for 15 minutes each time before making it all the way home at near 2 am.
Friday doesn’t start until nearly 9 am and I’m grateful for mom not waking me up when she gets up. We plan to be on the road by noon to get to Montpelier, VT and I look at the GPS and there’s a few ways to get there - the 101, 93, 89 route or the 2A to 119, to 12 to 5 to 91 to 89. I’ve gone the 93/89 route before but never the scenic 21/119, etc route - so I opt for that. And it is an absolutely beautiful drive through western MA, southern NH and Vermont. We drive by Cathedral of the Pines where Tracy and I got married and when the little roads finally hook up with Rte 89 by White River Junction it’s just spectacular.
I’ve driven across a lot of the U.S. A. LOT. And I can easily say that my favorite highway in the country is Rte 89 from White River Junction to Burlington, Vt.**** This road is in fantastic condition and it just slides and glides over the hills as it weaves its way through the state. There are scenic overlooks and little towns hiding in the valleys below and the miles just roll by.
I’m playing tonight at Charlie O’s in Montpelier, VT and it is my first time stopping in this little capital city and it’s adorable. Charlie O’s was once the biker bar in town and a punk rock haven. It’s got a couple of pool tables, a friendly bartender, some snacks and a stage area that is very much what Linda’s Doll Hut in Anaheim used to be like ~ it’s just the floor in a certain area. They do have a PA and a couple of rugs so I’m good to go here.
Before the show we grab a bite at the Skinny Pancake across the street and hang out with a bunch of my relatives from the Burlington area that have driven over to see me and I haven’t seen them in over 20 years either. It’s a full on catch-up fest for everyone and is great to see them and hear what they’re up to.
Quick Performance Geek Warning:
I don’t really want to deal with figuring out the monitor system on this old Mackie board so I just plug my mic and guitar into my Bose S1 pro on the floor as a monitor and then use the output from here to plug straight into the board and then just run the volume in the house system as a single channel. My monitor sounds great and I don’t have to do any mixing beyond that. EZ-PZ. I love this little Bose thing. I really wish I had used it last night too as this is a great system for a solo act like me.
Since most of my audience is right, six feet, in front of me and, honestly, a bit older than most of my audiences, I opt for a mellower set and it feels good. The stories go well and I like it. I could’ve gone big here and it would’ve been normal for the room but the folks sitting closest would’ve had their remaining hair blown off. No need to do that. Tell a story, sing a song, connect with them.
And I think I did a good job of that tonight.
Riding down 89 and I’m flooded with memories along this road that I mostly keep to myself as mom doesn’t like some of the stories of my youth and no need to make her worry retroactively.*****
When Jim Croce’s “working at the car wash blues” ends on the radio we switch to Glen Campbell’s greatest hits and Mom shocks me by knowing all the words to all the songs. “I had friends in California that used to sing these songs.” Learn something new every day.
Today was a good day.
*At this point I tell him about my friend Kyle who got a philosophy degree out in Californa and how he showed up to work one day with a split lip and we asked him what happened and he said “I figured that I am the kind of person that will get punched in a bar eventually and so I had my friend punch me in the face so I would know what it would feel like.” Because that is a completely normal thought process. “I called up my friend and explained the situation and how he had to come over and punch me in the face. He agreed as long as we filmed it.” And then Kyle took out his phone and showed us the video of him standing there and his friend lining up a shot to his jaw. On the video Kyle can be heard saying “Just do it” and his friend winds up and punches him square in the jaw and Kyle’s head turns back to the right and as he starts to fall, Kyle stops the video and says “this is where I lose consciousness”, starts the video back up and he just crumples to the floor. We all scream “play it again!” And we watch Kyle get punched in the face a dozen more times, laughing just as hard every time we see it.
Anyway - at some point Kyle was working on a tall ship in Rhode Island. He sent me pictures of him high up on the mast and looking about 75% like a pirate. No eye patch or wooden leg but he was definitely swashbuckling before the mast. And I mention all of this because I tell all this to Dante at Hi Fidelity and how Kyle ended up working on a tall ship and Dante covers his face as he’s laughing. It turns out that after Dante graduated, he worked on the tall ship Silva out of Nova Scotia. I now have a solid control group of philosophy majors that I can say - All philosophy majors end up working on tall ships.
Now that I think of it, I bet Kyle also makes beer. I can see him doing that. Definitely something artisan, maybe he makes sourdough and sells them at farmer’s markets or a special mustache wax. Ok, I’m getting off track now.
**He was the last bass player of my first band in high school. If we had ever gotten out of the basement and out playing gigs, Darrell would have been our chick magnet. He had this beautiful blue Peavey bass that his bass teacher actually said to him “you need to learn to play without looking at the neck of the guitar.” When he asked why the bass teacher said “because you have such beautiful eyes and they match your bass.” That really happened and Darrell is embarrassed that I not only remember it but that I always bring it up.
***Not a typo.
****The weekend I finished reading On The Road in college, I decided to hitchhike to Burlington, VT to visit my on again/off again girlfriend Laura. I didn’t want my folks to know because you know, they would worry and so I booked a bus from Lowell to White River Junction and then hitched the 100 miles from there to Burlington to see her. I can still remember having lunch at the diner in the bus terminal, grabbing my guitar and backpack and walking up the grassy knoll up to the highway just as it started raining and feeling like a great new adventure was beginning ~ my life on the road. I walked for a little while until I was picked up by some other college students returning from a Lenny Kravitz concert in Boston on their way home and I hopped into the back of that jeep, put my bag behind my head and fell asleep until they stopped at an off-ramp in Berlin and let me out. I would hitch this road a number of times over the next few years and even write songs as I walked along for miles, sometimes forgetting to stick out my thumb.
*****I’ll save them for my book.