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I never did post about Chicago. It's the land of connections. Of people you never knew knowing each other and you and so much random ephemera of connected that your mind blows up, implodes and freaks a little. I loved it. We arrived as the sun was setting and the city reflected fire magic. This was a good sign. As we drove in and around town I remembered so much of my teenage youth spent on these streets and loud and carousing and happy. We found the venue, got a drink, and then picked up some of the other performer people. Come to find out one of my high school Chicago pals might go to the show. Holy hot damn what?!?! Haven't seen her in 17 years and yes it is the right Tasha friend of the other performer the amazing Lucy Bruise. And so it goes. The venue was brilliant with murals and enthusiasm and good people and art. The show rocked, rolled and rocked again until we were drunk on sidewalks in front of Delilah's and drunk in living rooms listening to punk rock until 6am at Tasha's. A rough and yet smooth sleepless ride back to the Milwaukee airport was full of yay show and sad that tour was ending.


Louisville rules
driving from new orleans to louisville does not rule
especially when nashville - that land of too much traffic and too much jesus adds 3 hours to you trip.
we drove 14 hours today on 3 hours of sleep.
but when we got here folks had waited for our late ass to arrive and were full of excitement and full of win
it was a great show
now we're not really even functional and yet here i am online - wtf? i think i am a crazy hobo zombie

my new tour name is stinky monkeypants
that works for me.
hopefully tomorrow post some sleepin and some washing i can drop the stinky aspect though
staying with an old work pal in a posh house and feeling very rock star. he welcomed us with good whiskey and some pasta. mmmm fine country livin.

more details post delirium.
If you see the porchlight on above my door tonight, up above the nightblooming jasmine and the sweet olive, glinting off the spiderweb filaments and the rusted wrought iron of the balcony rail, you'll know I'm awake inside, in the dark, waiting for you to come to me, so we can go out and get tangled in the gorgeous stinking guts of this city.

And if I can find a book of matches, I'm going to burn this hotel down.

we are the good eggs

tonight was neutral grounds show and so much win. the crowd was small but full of excitement and post show exuberance. we sold much merch and the tip basket was generous. smallest and most lucrative show yet.

the day has been a dream. the most passionate and overwhelming day. the idea of leaving this city has me full of grief and longing. i don't know if real life can really keep me from this much longer. Our New Friend took us down to bywater and some of the best sweet potato pancakes of my life. and then it was explore the marigny, explore bywater, go out to the old golf course that's been overrun and abandoned since the Hurrican and walk walk walk.

after our show we went back to our place near Esplanade and back down to the Spotted Cat. Such good music. i thought my face would crack from joy.

the moments - from the drive in to the right now

1. moon the color of a bonfire rising out of swamp fog above the mississippi

2. the field guide to the black forest

3. she played accordion on her neck, singing with her ribs pushing out the bellows of her lungs

4. the murder ballads of copper harbor

5. walking down the street dancing with the trees

6. daytime cicadas are drowning out the car stereo

7. there are carnical lights on all the park signs. nature is a party

8. she picked a heart shaped leaf off of the flagstone sidewalk on esplanade

9. got a drink on frenchman with a bisexual bathroom where the whiskey came in plastic cups

10. there's always trash on the shore of the most beautiful rivers

11. wods are rolling with the beat of our wheels. our steps. the rustle of our feet through the abandoned grass of the Hurrican golf course

12. sitting in the Apple Barrel I tell her how the lagoon smelled like ever good childhood memory I've ever had. i could live here and smell my youth every day. I tell her this and tear fill my eyes blending with the smoke and the whiskey,  love this town where leaving breaks my ehart.

13. she found broken bricks in the streetside trash can

14. the tear of your hat. smooth and soft like a velveteen rabbit, turning this drive into something safe and familiar.

15. Al Green played by a jazz band on Frenchman with the drums rolling it forward like the night can't end in anything but complete lusty wonder. my face is about to break with awe. wiith absolute fucking win.

16. an old bluesman who just finished his set at a different club comes up. you're a big fine lady. i like big fine ladies. if ic ould take a big fine lady like you home i'd be satisfied.

17. a Brazilian man in New Orleans for the last six months thinks my tattoo is beautiful. i can't stop thinking of Roberto Bengnini.

18. His name is Eric and his family owns a famous New Orleans restaurant. He wants me to go do coke with him in the bathroom. He promises he won't tell. When I refuse and we leave the bar he finds us at where we've stopped for food. Not recognizing me. He wants to buy me a drink and then asks if his nose is clean. Do we like to party?

19. a dog howls over near the train tracks where a haunting whistle sounds. at the same moment a police siren runs down the street and it's the same mournful sound from all of us. something is lost. something is found. in this place where dreams are pale and wan next to the lush sweat on the neck of a cool night in a hot bar and the band just throbs. go man go.

new spot for videos

in nola getting ready to leave for our first show
it feels like the city is trying to get us to stay
so in love
more to come

meanwhile there is a new home for the videos


Let's stop for lunch in Memphis

Up late this morning going to meet a local new friend for some coffee. We're New Orleans the city of crazy magic. Driving into town last night it felt like I could eat the air it was so thick and beautiful. Got back from the show in St Louis late late late and into bed around 430. Up again at 730 am to start the drive to New Orleans. We were planning for about 10 hours. But a few hours after the best fucking Waffle House breakfast we decided that we should stop in Memphis for lunch because really - how often can you just... stop in Memphis for lunch? Tried to go to the Arcade of Mystery Train fame but were foiled by their early closure because they were redoing the floors. So we ate at the Blue Monkey and made our way out of town. Rolled into New Orleans around 930 but were foiled 4 miles from our exit by an hour long traffic jam. Checked in to the best place int he world, had a glass of wine and hit the streets. Through the quarter, the bourbon street tourist trainwreck, kicked out of the riverwalk by security and then to the nice drunk bat staff at Coops. Red beans and rice makes me happy. Whiskey with it even better. Wander slow and stumble home. Now we're finally got some sleep under our belts and are slowly making our way out of the room.
 This is just the framework. The devil is in the details. More of those later.

Photos from Bremen Cafe Show

If you are wondering how the show in Milwaukee went - it looked a little something like this:


saturday, september 13, milwaukee. outside the bremen cafe, a scruffy blonde kid with a tattered baseball cap sits with a jambox blasting the proclaimers. i was inside, talking to someone, but: hey! he said to my friend s. the show was really great! i just hopped a train down from st. paul today, and like the first thing i saw was a poster for this show, and i had to come - it's called the hobo love tour!

it was a good sign.

all day long, all night long, saturday, sunday, today - everything, no matter how seemingly insignificant, was a good sign. today, drove down through illinois flatlands in and out of rainclouds, talked emchy's ear off, had sympathy for the devil. drove across the big muddy with cigarettes in hand and jason webley on the car stereo. tonight is the full moon, and we are playing pop's blue moon.

it's a good sign.

On the Road

Saturday I officially rolled into Milwaukee and got hugged by the big bear arms of humid and summer rain. Unbeknownst to us we were languishing in the remnants of Hurrican Ike but much less intense than elsewhere around the country. Waltzing Matilda braved teh Jesus Pamphleteers to pick me up and we ran over to a local streetfest. Beer and fried chicken and tater tots were had. Rain was laid upon the clothes, toes were dampened and laughs were had. We discovered teh twisty path through a park under the night clouds going back to the car and then zoomed back to her pad for the gussying and the dressing for the show.

Show itself ruled. Songs were sung, whiskey drunken and new friendships wholly solidified. Thank you to the rockstars that made the night sparkle so much for this San Francisco girl. The midwest flirted and charmed me with her wiles. The next morning I walked in the rain barefoot on the way to coffee and remembered how much I've missed this damn summer rain.

Sunday night was wonderful and hilarious. If I got a dollar for every bad pickup line I may have had enough to buy the drink I was refusing. 

On the road and in St Louis now getting ready for the show at Pops. So excited. 

Some moments (real, imaginged, exaggerated, diminutized and third personed depending on your perspective) from the road:
As we were leaving:
An army of children bike by while a squirrel barks on a roof. A childs toy wedged under the tire while small purple flowers pop up frm the city curb scrub brush and we're caffeinated and ready to leave.

On the road
1. It's a gypsy punk road movie going through New Berlin and the space betwwen my hands and lap is full of percussion

2. We roll past the oaks, maples and pines fresh sap dirt smell in my nose. I want to drag my flesh along each one leaving tiny love kisses on each one with branches in my hair.

3. following the Black Forest Ford with its exhaust flavored breadcrumbs

4. fllirting with mortality and chewing gum on I-43

5. I don't see clouds like this anymore she said as the miles rolled away and a deer carcass caught her eye spilling across the road. Sun baking the dirty denim of her jeans she was trying to see all of the world all at once and the song tells her "i used to be somebody"

6. the first town we got gas in hosts the clown hall of fame museum while the crows lined our path and the farms flew by. Army trucks ominously guard a corn field and we languish in the construction truck line full of dust losing sightlines while the miles rolled away.

7. a river of birds dancing above the ditch while the dirt farmer sings a working song without words

8. poet cow open mic meeting

9. the wind is stealing her words while the road pulls out her stories. Fallen angels flying from her mouth and the highway air from cracked windows lifts their wings - pulling them away to new homes.

10. you run the trouble. it doesn't run you.

11. buy brass knuckles in st louis. i'll send you a check to pay for them

12. that sounds like a bad line from a worse movie

13. stopped at a casey's outside of peoria. it's the first clean public restroom i've seen in days. the air is sick with sugar coffee and donuts. 'have a nice day' drawl escorts us out to a chorus of Illinois crickets and an ancient bridge to nowhere. One two time waltz beat dances us back onto the interstate and St Louis here we come.

14. on rt 66 crossing the big muddy.