Our first somewhat lazy day. Awoke midmorning, Abi had taken Minivan Morrison to the river with our host, I think Fernelly is jogging somewhere. Eventually we get hungry and walk into town, eating across the street from last night's show and thinking and there's lots of coffee and cigarettes.
Our original plan had been to breeze up to Charlottesville, where we'll be playing at the Garage that night, and count on the good grace of god to find us a big bed to sleep in. But today we'd been offered another night at the house, should we want to drive back after the show. What a sweet deal. So we laze around and eat more coffee. Eventually Abi gets back from the river and we pack our gear and head on up.
Charlottesville is a very historic-feeling town. Driving around our roads kept ending and we're made to backtrack and there's only one way around here and was that the venue? Large open green of the town proper, and is that statue Teddy Hoover? I know Monticello is around here somewhere, that is that venue!
The Garage turns out to be an actual garage, tacked on the back of a church, next door to a funeral parlor, and it opens directly onto the town green. It's perfect. There are couches on the sidewalk for passers by, but the best seats in the house by far are on the grassy knoll directly across the street. We are the only band playing that evening and as we set up Fernelly decides to do a set to open.
"Are we all packed up, does everyone have their belong-g-ings,
strapped across their ever regretful, shooouuulders?"
He kills it, his rolling voice laying smooth on every part of the air around us, and as he plays a crowd gathers on the hillside. People who heard the sound from across town, people who knew we were coming, people coming out of the funeral parlor, all sorts of people. Old and young, meek and ebullient. We play our set just like practicing in the garage and the response is so warm, so kind, how many lives can you absorb in one night? That man who kept yelling at us is the kindest of all, where are we? They don't all know one another but it doesn't matter through the hopscotch of introductions and a blob of about twenty of us head down the road for drinks. How many names can you remember?
It's a late drive back in the rain for an early start tomorrow. We are little like finger mice getting to bed tonight, not making a peep. But sitting cross legged and giggling in a circle as all the guards are let go for the night and what is the science of emergence? And yes we found a huge stash of money on the dresser, but we're not going to take it, that's not who we are... I'll just count it, you know, just so I know.
Our original plan had been to breeze up to Charlottesville, where we'll be playing at the Garage that night, and count on the good grace of god to find us a big bed to sleep in. But today we'd been offered another night at the house, should we want to drive back after the show. What a sweet deal. So we laze around and eat more coffee. Eventually Abi gets back from the river and we pack our gear and head on up.
Charlottesville is a very historic-feeling town. Driving around our roads kept ending and we're made to backtrack and there's only one way around here and was that the venue? Large open green of the town proper, and is that statue Teddy Hoover? I know Monticello is around here somewhere, that is that venue!
The Garage turns out to be an actual garage, tacked on the back of a church, next door to a funeral parlor, and it opens directly onto the town green. It's perfect. There are couches on the sidewalk for passers by, but the best seats in the house by far are on the grassy knoll directly across the street. We are the only band playing that evening and as we set up Fernelly decides to do a set to open.
"Are we all packed up, does everyone have their belong-g-ings,
strapped across their ever regretful, shooouuulders?"
He kills it, his rolling voice laying smooth on every part of the air around us, and as he plays a crowd gathers on the hillside. People who heard the sound from across town, people who knew we were coming, people coming out of the funeral parlor, all sorts of people. Old and young, meek and ebullient. We play our set just like practicing in the garage and the response is so warm, so kind, how many lives can you absorb in one night? That man who kept yelling at us is the kindest of all, where are we? They don't all know one another but it doesn't matter through the hopscotch of introductions and a blob of about twenty of us head down the road for drinks. How many names can you remember?
It's a late drive back in the rain for an early start tomorrow. We are little like finger mice getting to bed tonight, not making a peep. But sitting cross legged and giggling in a circle as all the guards are let go for the night and what is the science of emergence? And yes we found a huge stash of money on the dresser, but we're not going to take it, that's not who we are... I'll just count it, you know, just so I know.
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