8.19.07 - Asheville, NC

Well, the drive into town from Johnson City was even shorter than expected, only an inch or so on the map, so we had more time to kill than we thought. Captain was tuckered out from the night before. Sleeping in the van in August is tough after the sun comes up. Even with the windows down the sun bakes you like a flour tortilla on a rock in Mesa Verde. Late to bed, early to rise makes everyone grumpy. We parked on a side street around the corner from the club after taking a short driving tour of downtown Asheville. The college seems nice; cabin-like residences tucked in amongst the trees and mountains; quite different from the concrete sprawl of complexes for higher education back home.

Asheville reminded me of Yellow Springs for some reason. Maybe it was all the hippies and rich dudes on Harleys they could barely ride.

Rick tried to sleep, but I had us parked outside a store that sold all sorts of over-priced African drums. Not bad in and of itself, but Sunday was lessons day at the store. I only heard the retched, off-time nonsense in short bursts as I walked to or from the van throughout the day. We left him in peace and walked around town a bit. The place we were playing seemed alright, although they kept talking about having the show outside in their little concrete and glass courtyard. Hard, reflective surfaces make the music sound tinny and harsh, so no one was looking forward to that. Plus, there aren’t too many places where we can play a whole set outside without the cops coming. The bar was having ‘build your own bloody Mary’ day, so the doctor and I took advantage of that. I couldn’t stop thinking about Kris Kristofferson for some reason.

After a while we began our walking tour of the town. Checked out a couple record stores and one of those weird comic book/fascination role playing game boutiques. I thumbed through a few ‘WarHammer’ books to reaffirm my groundedness in reality. I spotted a kid skating down the street and after a brief exchange, I was on my way to the Team Pain built Foodlion Concrete Skatepark. It was a marvelous creation. The only downside was the city ordinance enforcing full pads and helmets. There was a snake run, some banks and quarterpipes, ledges and pyramids, but the real prize was the bowl at the far end of the place. No one was riding it, so that’s where I set up camp. Toby read a book while I exhausted myself over the course of the next two hours.

Back to the van and onto the next mission; groceries to restock our chuckwagon. The only place we could find within walking distance was an organically grown food coop. What a bunch of overpriced bullshit. Who the fuck can afford 5-8 bucks for a loaf of bread? We bought al the cheapest shit possible to get through lunch and had ourselves some nice tomato and cheese sandwiches on the sidewalk. After a while we loaded in and set up. We were playing first of three on a absurdly diverse bill. We were followed by a bluegrass band; they were followed by three Djs with computers. Strange town.

We loaded out and drove right outside town to the promoter, Elias’ house. This dude was super nice to us. He lived on a farm in the middle of nowhere. His two roommates are in touring bands I guess, so he said it was fine to make noise. He had drums and amps set up all over the main room, so we dicked around until the notes stopped making sense. Captain took the bed in the AC, the doctor and I took the van. Woke up early to the blazing sun and broke camp. On to Athens.

- Mike