June 5, 2008
Last night we played in Oklahoma City at a place called the Factory. It was pretty fucking fun despite the fact that Ross' kick drum kept fucking moving around all over the floor every time he'd hit it and that only three bands played. One was a local and then it was us and then the Golden Age. Those guys fucking rule. I think we've finally found a reason to visit Corpus Christi. Just another bunch of dudes spreading the 'buuuuuuuh' from coast to coast. I wish that we were playing more shows with them on this tour.
We stayed with some dudes named Flint and Trey. Trey has the biggest American Nightmare collection I have ever seen and a damn well notable vinyl collection past that. Nick, if you read this, you better step up your fucking game dude. Flint passed on the knowledge of the pink sock to us all and I fell asleep in the midst of everyone sharing strange sex moves that could easily rival any fatality on Mortal Kombat 1 or 2. Thanks for putting us up boys! It was a lot of fun.
Anyways, we woke up this morning and I found out that my checking account had a handful of over draft charges on it and I was in the negative like a couple hundred. Bummer. After talking to a few friendly, helpful people I was put on the phone with some hardened, unhelpful, leach of a supervisor at Wells Fargo's 1-800 number. She basically just lied to me by telling me that not even the damn CEO of Wells Fargo could remove a single over draft fee from my account because they were all just slaves to their fucking accounting software and wasted my time the entire conversation. Thanks lady.. shortly thereafter I spoke to the branch that I set up my account at and they removed four of the charges without question. Maybe there's no such thing as an honest job. Then I called my and she ended up loaning me some cash to cover the the negative balance until I get back and my work check should be coming in tonight. It'll be nice to be able to eat again.
Right now we are all in the van trying to access the local Topeka, KS weather channel radio station. It's been storming ever since I woke up a couple of hours ago. We decided to pull over somewhere in upstate Oklahoma and wait it out because there was a lot of talk of outrageous tornado outbreaks...no thanks. A trucker came running up to us and told us that if we were heading north than we "better fucking book it on out". We accepted his advice....with great fervor. We're currently outrunning that storm as I type. I think we're like 20 minutes out of Wichita, KS or something.. We thought about visiting Nate but who knows if he's busy with the family or if his power's gone out or what. I heard on the radio that most of the city won't have power until tomorrow. The last thing he needs is to take care of his wife and kid in a power outage around 5 dudes in a band with a severely immature sense of humor.
Tyler was looking out the window in Oklahoma at this huge fucking wall cloud and the spiraling dust and wind connecting the wheat fields to the grey sky beneath it... it was one of the most terrifying things I've ever seen in my entire life. "I didn't die in a tornado with my friends", he sang to the tune of The Beatles' "I Get By with a Little Help From My Friends"...or whatever the fuck the song is called.
The Clash is my favorite band to travel to but right now we're blasting the Beatles...ironic. "Phony beatle-mania has bitten the dust".
We are currently heading to Columbia, MO to stay with a promoter named Dan before our show tomorrow in Jefferson City. I'm excited for it but I'm especially excited to meet up with Bailey and the dudes from Grave Maker.
You should probably skip my whole fucking journal here and read what Ross has to say because it's much more colorful and funny. Plus there's PICTURES! Who fucking reads, right?
When we first left yesterday afternoon we were talking about what makes traveling highways in crowded vans feel so important and relevant..especially when you're just doing it to play shows to a handful of people in scattered cities across the country. It gets stressful, annoying and uncomfortable and sometimes it even feels like it has some sort of attachment to life threatening storms but still your head romanticizes the whole experience. On the road I never remember the bad things and when I do they do when I'm at home. They feel like disconnected memories that can be buried under miles until they're just stories to laugh at. Ross says it's the freedom of it all that makes it feel divine. I know he's right.
I'm pretty fucking easily distracted right now so that probably has been a cause for more words and therefore a more watered down expression. Either way...
We've only been gone for a couple of days but I still wish that everyone from back home could somehow be with us. They're the only reason I could never stay out here forever. Here in nowhere...or maybe I mean here in everywhere.
"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding into the sky like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue center light pop and everybody goes...'Aww!' "-Kerouac
Go check www.objektivone.blogspot.com ...Ross has pictures.