Space Twins tour diary - 2003

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The Journey Begins

Tuesday, March 11, 2003 7:12 PM
We set out for Austin today. Glenn picked me up in his car and we drove to our rehearsal space. Mike met us there then we loaded the van. After we dropped off Glenn's car with his wife, we went to go pick up Tim, who lives downtown. I drove first, but after picking up Tim he was very ancy [sic] about driving. I had to calm him down and remind him we have 24 hours of driving left. I drove until lunch. We ate at a TGI Fridays, which I haven't eaten at since I lived with my parents. It hadn't changed a bit. The waiters weren't warring all those obnoxious buttons on their suspenders like I remember, but they were obnoxious just the same.

The music we listened to today was as followed: The Shins, Spoon (Glenn's choice), Joe Strummer "Global A Go-Go" (my choice), Sufi Music from Turkey (Tim's choice), Echo and the Bunnymen, The Ramones (Mike's choice) King Crimson "The Court of the Crimson King (Glenn's choice), Stevie Wonder (my choice), and Miles Davis (Tim's choice).

Two stops along the way were a rest area in Arizona and dinner in Tucson. At the rest area I plugged an espresso machine I brought from home into an outlet next to a Coke machine. It must've been a funny sight. We tried to act Italian so people wouldn't look at us too weird... didn't matter, they did any way. Little did we know at the time but that espresso machine would be a constant source of entertainment.

Glenn got in some skateboarding and I ran around in circles to stretch my legs. In Tucson we ate a grill aptly named "The Grill". We parked at a hotel called The Congress and playing were two bands from LA, The Brian Jonestown Massacre and a band called Earlimart. We thought about seeing them but still had such a long ways to go, we vetoed the idea before it was even an idea to veto.

Tonight I had my first interview for our record with a writer from Austin. I enjoyed it so much that it put me in the greatest of moods. It was neat to talk about these songs to an interviewer, I can't wait to do much more of it.

We're trying to make it to a Days Inn in Demming, New Mexico, but only make it to Lordsburg, not only because we like the name better but because we were dead tired and Demming was still another hour away. We listened to Simon and Garfunkels "Best Of" (Mike's choice) and went to two motels before finding vacancy at a Best Western. Mike and I in one room, Tim and Glenn in another. I think I'll call ahead to reserve rooms from here on out. Good night.

- Brian

Illegal Espresso

Wednesday, March 12, 2003 8:12 PM
Everyone slept like hell, but still felt pretty good. We ate breakfast in Demming and had amazing Mexican food at their local chuck wagon, Si Senor. First musical selection is The Cure "Kiss Me Kiss Me" (Glenn's choice) and a whole lot of nothing ahead of us. We asked a nice older couple to take a picture of us if front of a sculpture of a giant road runner made of scraps and junk. They say they will send it to our website, we hope they do.

Next we listen to David Bowie "The Hours" (my choice) then Rembitika (Greek music from the 20's - Tim's choice). I spill water on my lap and I'm watching it dry (exciting). We bought a hacky sack in El Paso, Texas, and hope to kick it five times in a row. Next we listen to Sparkle Horse (Mike's choice), then stop for gas. I get the not-so-bright idea to waltz into the gas station all city-like and carry in a tattered box concealing my espresso machine. The lady at the filling station did not like the way I looked (I'm use to that), and she got hysterical and demanded to look into my box. I knew then that plugging it in to the mens room would not work, so I told her I was going to wash some espresso cups in the sink. She said, "What's that?". I told her it's a strong coffee and they're special cups designed for the sole purpose of enjoying the fragrance and flavor of the bean.

I go into the mens' room, and after I'm done I turn around... and whose standing in front of me? A Texas state trooper, that's who. "What's in the box?", he said. "Well, an espresso machine", just like I mentioned to the lady inside. He said she'd said I wouldn't let her look inside the box (which was not true). I remember to hold my tongue and that maybe these people have never seen an espresso machine before. They thought I was a terrorist trying to blow up a filling station in the middle of nowhere. He said, "You better find somewheres else to wash those cups". I said "no problem", and I skeedattled back into the van and shouted "Hit It Tim!" I noticed that bitch was talking to yet another state trooper while we were making our getaway. We drove about five miles to a rest area to see if there was an outlet we could use. Of course, the whole way the guys were making fun of me. When we came to a stop a cop car tailed us, and guess what he said when I got out of the van? You guessed it. "Let me see what's inside the box". I showed him and he said, "you boys better be more careful, because you don't mess with Texas." Texas cops wear cowboy hats and look extra intimidating.

After we settled down, I took a nap while we listened to The Rich Girls (Glenn's choice and other band). They sounded really good while I was in a half asleep/half awake state, which is better state to be in than the state of Texas. We listened to Bob Dylan's "Another side of Bob Dylan". I wanted the guys to hear a song we covered from that album called, "Spanish Harlem Incident", and maybe revisit it in the future. I always thought we did a cool version of it.

We stopped for dinner at Fort Stockton at a place called the Alpine Lodge a Swiss Alpes themed placed connected to a Best Western. They had a decent salad bar and vegetarian soup, not so easy to find. It's here where I book the rooms at another Best Western motel outside of San Antonio, about four hours away. This time I alter my approach with much more success. I coax the desk clerk into letting me set up the espresso machine at the coffee station in the lobby, and even make her a cup. After a nice jolt from the java we kicksome hacky sack then hit the road.

The music selection is Ravi Shanker [sic] and Ali Akbar Khan (Indian Ragas, Tim's choice) then Deep Purple (Mike's choice) until it got the quick kibosh, then Supertramp (Glenn's choice), but we will not be "Taking The Long Way Home". Next Pink Floyd's "Dark Side Of The Moon" (my choice). Then The Kreisler Album performed by Joshua Bell (no relation), Kreisler was one of the greatest voilinsts to ever live (Tim's choice).

- Brian

We Arrive

Thursday, March 13, 2003 7:12 PM
This morning Mike took full advantage of the Best Western's complimentary continental breakfast. He was so excited that he woke Tim and Glenn up at 8:30am to let them in on this well guarded secret. He told them they better hurry because they only had ten more minutes to partake in the ever so charming Southern Hospitality. God bless him..

I was awaken at 9:30am to the sounds of Billy Squire's, "Everybody Wants You", blasting from the mini speaker of the clock radio that must have been preset by some early riser. After heaving it across the room I was able to stay in bed until 11:00am.

We searched for lunch in downtown San Antonio near the world famous River Walk, which is basically a mall next to a river. We made a decision in less than half a minute that the River Walk was no place for us, so we explored a bit and found another tourist trap, San Antonio's version of Olivera Street.

We ate at an over priced, not that good, family-style restaurant called "La Margarita". I normally don't frequent restaurants where most of it's patrons are sun burnt, out of shape tourists feeding themselves and their hyperactive Coca-cola addicted kids, but we were starving.

Finally we're off to Austin the last hour of our journey. Mike slips some Thelonius Monk into the CD player and we're all elated to be nearing our destination. We pull into the Downtown Marriot and I had to do what tour managers who make the big bucks do, check in. After the grueling process of checking in, along with its fake handshakes and phony smiles, we go to our rooms, freshen up, make prank phone calls to other guests, then meet in the lobby.

We walk out to explore the Old West settlement know as Austin. There were saloons not on every corner but every other establishment, sometimes in a string of five or more. There were gangs of ax slinging six string serenaders behind every crevice and cranny. At a moments notice a shootout could erupt. Armed with parradiddles and arpeggios, we were on our defensive.

Our mission was to make it safely to the Austin Convention Center, check in, and let the local SXSW officials know that the Space Twins have landed. The first people we see are the Devics, a LA band to who we are cordial. They arrive at the same time and left a day later then we did, they look it too. The first act we see was a gimmicky schtick called The Trachtenburg Family Slide Show. The father, who looks like a kid, was singing and playing keyboard, while daughter, a beauty of an eleven year old, who looks like Wednesday from The Addams Family, was playing drums and singing too. Their better half was working the slide projector and the lyrics seemed to sync perfectly with the images on the screen. As far as originality and entertainment, I don't think I'll see anything better than this at SXSW, and I didn't. We all decide to go back to the hotel to rest, but feeling parched from the humid Texas air, Mike and I go on a quest for agua. Determined out of sheer thriftiness and good sense, do not want to pay the four silver dollars for the 8 oz. canteen of water tempting us in our hotel room. We walk about twelve blocks to a drug store called Ekards and when we finally get back to the hotel I see that there is another Ekards across the street from the Marriot.

That night I go out to eat by myself to clear my head and look for a place that is far removed from the insanity if the festival. I find it at a fancy Italian restaurant called Carmelos. I was right. It's patrons couldn't have cared less with the going-ons of the festival, and I had a nice quiet and reflective meal.

Along my walk to the restaurant a wild looking biker type dude stumbles out of a bar and says, "Brian is that you?" I could tell he was no Weezer fan, although he does like our band, but Max a wild man of a drummer who plays for The Lords Of Altamont. I hadn't seen him in years. My first band Carnival Art had played many shows with his band, Spiderbaby. He was ready to go out drinking and he looked like he had a head start. It would've been awesome to hang with him but knew my limit had to be far less than his and that would be an unwise decision. After dinner I went back to the hotel. Tim and Glenn had left for the evening, so Mike and I went out to check the scene, hopefully to see and hear something worth seeing and hearing. Well none sounded too promising that we saw. Earlier in the evening I lost my left earplug, and upset by the lack of anything resembling a song I returned to the hotel only to have severe ringing in my left ear.

- Brian

Van Rental

Thursday, June 12, 2003 12:09 AM
Day One:

This time around I rent the van a day early. Car rental companies usually make it such an ordeal to rent, especially Enterprise, avoid them at all cost. I rented the van at the same place, and I'm convinced it was the same van. That same place was Galpin Ford in Hollywood where I get a fair, if not great, deal. The down side was I'm suspicious it's linked to the Scientology building across the street because all the workers have this vacant stare in their eyes and act very peculiar, or stoned.

After filling out all the forms, I double check the fine print making sure there's not a Personality Test attached. It takes twice as long as it should to get the hell out of there. This time I had them take out two rows of seats instead of one, because all we did was throw our bags on that last row, and I knew we were going to have more equipment this time.

I drove it to our rehearsal space where and Glenn and I loaded the van all Tetris like and gave him the keys my car like a proud father. He drove it to his place so he can pick up the Tim and Mike in the morning. I drove the van to my pad and eagerly awaited daybreak.

- Brian

The Journey Begins

Friday, June 13, 2003 12:12 AM
Day Two:

Day broke and still no sign of the guys. I'm getting a little nervous because Glenn admits to not being the best driver. I get a call from Mike saying they're on their way. I can only guess what took place in that moment of unsupervised responsibilities. Were they on their way to Tijuana? No, they arrived about 45 minutes later.

I showed them my drum set, which is actually Glenn's, and ask Mike to play some beats while I went outside to see how loud it was for my neighbors. It's definitely audible, but what do I care? They're all inconsiderate anyway. We take way too much time to load the van with our bags, but there's no show today and no where we actually need to be... just drive until we puke. Everyone always over packs for these things.

First stop was at a Denny's outside the Grapevine. Fantastic as only Denny's can be. We all order the Veggie Burger, which I didn't know they even served. The first musical selection was my choice. Actually we didn't take turns, I seem to control the stereo this time, since I was riding shotgun. We listened to Robert Crumb and The Cheap Suit Serenades. Yes, that's Robert Crumb the comic book artist. It's a 20's style jug band kind of sound that's really fun and puts you in a toe-tapping silly mood. We drive past the ever-dreaded Cowshwitz, in Coalinga and held our breath as long as we could while watching thousand of refugee cows bask in their own stink. If that's not enough to turn one vegetarian, nothing is.

Not much happened on our way to Ashland, Oregon which was our destination for the evening. I really talked the town up and told everyone about the Shakespeare festival and the over-populous of hippies. When we rolled into town we got both: the Shakespeare festival was going on and we found a pizza joint where they served soy cheese pizza with whole wheat crust. That with a picture of microbrewed beer from Oregon, and we were set. Actually these "hippies" were really college students who needed a bath and some other kind of footwear instead of Birkenstocks.

- Brian