adventures in friscoes... or "how I learned to love the sub"
Disclaimer : This all happened between 3pm and 4pm friday, june 18th-19th and by my clock it is now 8:30am, satyrday. These details may be a bit skewed.
Anyone who is someone who knows Travis sivart13 Grathwell and or myself in this town of Davis knows that we sure do enjoy a good adventure or two. Occaisonally three or more but I digress. Harvey "we haven't played together in 7 years" Danger was playing a show with The New Truth and Travis Morrisson at Cafe Du Nord at 9pm located convienently 72 miles from Davis, California. Although Travis was quite adamant about going to this show as long as I had known of its existence, I had flipflopped repeatedly over the course of a week or more as to whether or not I would actually attend said show. In between fits of frustration, confusion regarding my hours at work, finals and baking bread I had assumed I would not be going.
However, Thursday night as I was delivering half a loaf of bread to Travis I informed him that I had bought tickets to this show and that I would be traveling with him and his creepy roommate David Coppel to San Francisco for much joyous revelry. Cue choir and orchestral accompaniment as the beauty of such a post-finals pre-summer session I adventure stood before us - pure, naked and unpredictable.
Aside from the Murphy's Law hijinks "oh noes all our printersz0rz R brokened!" and "how does we drove friscoes" not to mention "wait.. other people want to be driving on the same road as us right now?" we managed to make it into the city by 7pm and promptly found the drop off location for David.
and now the as-of-yet unannounced third party in our night out rears its ugly, ugly head:
The first thing we see as we step out of Travis' truck and onto the sidewalk is a literal mob of youngish (mostly late teens) running south across the street from us. Between hooting, hollaring and general confusion, I managed to make out some of them announcing the existence of a fight in close proximity - either in space or time or most likely, both.
As we walk around the corner to David's friend's apartment, we approach two younger African American girls who appear in all respects to be normal. WRONG.
One of them immitates a chicken wing-flapping gesture while repeatedly squawking and buzzing. David returns the favour. Laughs aside, we quickly leave david to his friends and start to walk a treacherous path to "where we think the concert is going to be held."
Walked briskly to Market St. Near Lots of homeless people, saw plenty of nifty things to see in that town of wonder and joy. We ate donuts. Oh FUCK => realized we are walking the wrong way on market st == zerg rush run waaaay over to west market st.
Show review : the opening band, The New Trust, lacked a few things I enjoy such as discernible vocals and any sort of ending for any song. Every song of their was either a minute and a half long, ended abruptly for no reason at all, or - in most cases - both. Travis Morrisson of the Dismemberment Plan was a less than awkward unique genius. His solo act is nothing to scoff at - so much charisma in such a odd man shaped space. Harvey Danger, despite being music of my middleschool years, felt fresh and interesting. There was something genuine about how they acted on stage - or maybe it was just that Travis and I had woke up from our passoutattack by this point and were excited to be alive. Either way, the show raised our energy levels threefold and gave us a taste of what pleasures there are to be having in this crazay town that I grew up across the bay from.
It was at this point that we purchased a loaf of sourdough bread from safeway and walked the 12 blocks back to our "designated" parking space. One important piece of knowledge I forgot to relate before I started was that we brought a box of dry firewood, a can of lighter fluid, some matches and a cardboard box to carry it all in with the intention of starting a bonfire on Ocean Beach. Cue midnight driving to the ocean, next to a dark Golden Gate Park full of ne'er-do-wells. Upon arrival at the beach, we noticed a number of police cars parked further up the street and decided to cruise the surrounding hills and eventually dark shores until the po got out of our business. SO we dragged our supplies to the beach, having scoped the area and found it full of sleeping hobos, insanely drunk and stupid high school freshmen and quite a few bonfires. We wasted 6 matches trying to get a lighter fluid soaked stick to catch on fire before we realized that cardboard does the job of starting a fire so much better than either Tavis^ or I could have imagined. We may not have had 6 wooden pallettes as our foundation, but I like to think that our decent 2 man fire was something to be fiercely proud of. During this leg of our adventure we still felt the energy of the cafe du nord show, ingested a good deal of sourdough bread, walked to where the ocean made our shoes all kinds of wet, walked back to our bonfire to burn the last of our oh so sexy wood and then left as it was dying down.
Teh drive back to Davis was long, dark, full of moments where we traveled in exces of 100mph and just a tad bit sleepy. I biked back from travis' and here I find my house to be full of goons. Counter Strike Guy goons, to be exact. What a joy it is to see them =D.
and so now I have to work (and not fall asleep in 40 minutes) and I imagine I wil let travis explain wichever seems to be the best way to descrive his take on last night.
/ me runs away before he passes out on the couch.
to reiterate : last night was a wonderful cornicopia. Travis % andI I hit up San Francisco like no one has ever hit it before. Belch.
Anyone who is someone who knows Travis sivart13 Grathwell and or myself in this town of Davis knows that we sure do enjoy a good adventure or two. Occaisonally three or more but I digress. Harvey "we haven't played together in 7 years" Danger was playing a show with The New Truth and Travis Morrisson at Cafe Du Nord at 9pm located convienently 72 miles from Davis, California. Although Travis was quite adamant about going to this show as long as I had known of its existence, I had flipflopped repeatedly over the course of a week or more as to whether or not I would actually attend said show. In between fits of frustration, confusion regarding my hours at work, finals and baking bread I had assumed I would not be going.
However, Thursday night as I was delivering half a loaf of bread to Travis I informed him that I had bought tickets to this show and that I would be traveling with him and his creepy roommate David Coppel to San Francisco for much joyous revelry. Cue choir and orchestral accompaniment as the beauty of such a post-finals pre-summer session I adventure stood before us - pure, naked and unpredictable.
Aside from the Murphy's Law hijinks "oh noes all our printersz0rz R brokened!" and "how does we drove friscoes" not to mention "wait.. other people want to be driving on the same road as us right now?" we managed to make it into the city by 7pm and promptly found the drop off location for David.
and now the as-of-yet unannounced third party in our night out rears its ugly, ugly head:
The first thing we see as we step out of Travis' truck and onto the sidewalk is a literal mob of youngish (mostly late teens) running south across the street from us. Between hooting, hollaring and general confusion, I managed to make out some of them announcing the existence of a fight in close proximity - either in space or time or most likely, both.
As we walk around the corner to David's friend's apartment, we approach two younger African American girls who appear in all respects to be normal. WRONG.
One of them immitates a chicken wing-flapping gesture while repeatedly squawking and buzzing. David returns the favour. Laughs aside, we quickly leave david to his friends and start to walk a treacherous path to "where we think the concert is going to be held."
Walked briskly to Market St. Near Lots of homeless people, saw plenty of nifty things to see in that town of wonder and joy. We ate donuts. Oh FUCK => realized we are walking the wrong way on market st == zerg rush run waaaay over to west market st.
Show review : the opening band, The New Trust, lacked a few things I enjoy such as discernible vocals and any sort of ending for any song. Every song of their was either a minute and a half long, ended abruptly for no reason at all, or - in most cases - both. Travis Morrisson of the Dismemberment Plan was a less than awkward unique genius. His solo act is nothing to scoff at - so much charisma in such a odd man shaped space. Harvey Danger, despite being music of my middleschool years, felt fresh and interesting. There was something genuine about how they acted on stage - or maybe it was just that Travis and I had woke up from our passoutattack by this point and were excited to be alive. Either way, the show raised our energy levels threefold and gave us a taste of what pleasures there are to be having in this crazay town that I grew up across the bay from.
It was at this point that we purchased a loaf of sourdough bread from safeway and walked the 12 blocks back to our "designated" parking space. One important piece of knowledge I forgot to relate before I started was that we brought a box of dry firewood, a can of lighter fluid, some matches and a cardboard box to carry it all in with the intention of starting a bonfire on Ocean Beach. Cue midnight driving to the ocean, next to a dark Golden Gate Park full of ne'er-do-wells. Upon arrival at the beach, we noticed a number of police cars parked further up the street and decided to cruise the surrounding hills and eventually dark shores until the po got out of our business. SO we dragged our supplies to the beach, having scoped the area and found it full of sleeping hobos, insanely drunk and stupid high school freshmen and quite a few bonfires. We wasted 6 matches trying to get a lighter fluid soaked stick to catch on fire before we realized that cardboard does the job of starting a fire so much better than either Tavis^ or I could have imagined. We may not have had 6 wooden pallettes as our foundation, but I like to think that our decent 2 man fire was something to be fiercely proud of. During this leg of our adventure we still felt the energy of the cafe du nord show, ingested a good deal of sourdough bread, walked to where the ocean made our shoes all kinds of wet, walked back to our bonfire to burn the last of our oh so sexy wood and then left as it was dying down.
Teh drive back to Davis was long, dark, full of moments where we traveled in exces of 100mph and just a tad bit sleepy. I biked back from travis' and here I find my house to be full of goons. Counter Strike Guy goons, to be exact. What a joy it is to see them =D.
and so now I have to work (and not fall asleep in 40 minutes) and I imagine I wil let travis explain wichever seems to be the best way to descrive his take on last night.
/ me runs away before he passes out on the couch.
to reiterate : last night was a wonderful cornicopia. Travis % andI I hit up San Francisco like no one has ever hit it before. Belch.