July 28. Thirty-One Hour Drive
Thu Jul 28, 2005 11:13 pm
Night Crossing
The Road... and the roadside
Continuing - we treked Westward across our US. But there were interruptings:
"It's a pitch black night. The wind from the trucks whisking past us is giving the cool breeze from our open doors a boost. Eisely girls are laying down in a field about 15 feet from the van.... watching shooting stars.
John and Mark's forms are no longer sillouetted against the oncoming traffic; they're fragile forms disappear into the night - seeking gasoline from the Love Station 3 miles ahead. Now a cop car is pullinhg up.... a train is barreling past.... the van is being jolted from all sides as we succumb to the doppler affect.
Mark ran the tank out dry! It's the first time for us - after 10 tours and countless road trips and shows. To his favor, the idiot light only gave us a few miles... not the 20 it promised. And, he'd been looking for gas for a long, long time.
To us, it's an adventure, not a crisis. A memory, not a mistake.
I'm still able to work, but I think i'll jump on the phone because this is just to funny. I have to tell someone."
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Addendum to last night's enscribings
Eisley Banner served as a big tarp for everyone to laydown on while they waited. It was nice... Right after that...The cop checked on us, drove off, picked up the guys - but not before John sprained his foot while jogging - brought them the Love's station for gas, brought them back... we glugged and split.
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My Shift...
This morning, I was so enraptured by the beauty and splendor of the landscape while passing through Northern Arizona. It's hack...
scribblings
"... the tender warmth of the sun's first offering baths the dessert's garden... as langly daisies dance along the highway's furrow. I awake the dawn."
"...whisps of weeds are brightly illuminated; entire fields are ablaze with their radiance... like feathery, photoshopped brushes... an array of splendor, dotted with plump junipers who's arms reach up to the sky...
On the other side of the hill, the same Junipers are set against sepia... but the colors; how can I describe them? Like lima green but intensify the hue... the sepia is more like a burnt red; add white to mute it... both colors are muted and perfectly analogous... duo-cratic. They belong. "
I don't know what I was saying. I jotted down a bunch of words on the back side of my sound scan sheets. I need my mac but the screen is broken... on if I slap it... for a second it works before fading and presenting complete digial chaos like my old one. It's making me crazy.
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Anyway, this is boring journaling. I'm typing this the next day... but anyway, I drove 450 from 9:00am till early eve (ref: amarillo). Mark drove till about 11:00 or 12:00, John picked up and drove till 5:00am, I picked back up then and drove us 550 to LA.
Can't hold my eyes open. Can't take my eyes off of you...
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Landing in LA
Gross. We were gross.
I felt sorry for Garron. hey, welcome to touring. First trip out, it's a marathon drive overnight with 11 in the van; 31 hours straight. Oh Lord!
We landed about 1:30pm... rag tag. So trashed... the van door opened and out we spilled... paper cups and cellophane bags and trinketry... greasy headed, muttering... stumbling, we greeted Chad. LA is nice and cool... I saw a run, grabbed my cheap purple satin pillow that I bought the night before with that mexican blanket to keep warm out of the van and was out. The next think I heard was, "Boyd, do you want to sleep or go with us to Panera Bread?" (was there a choice?) I wanted the green tea in that little plastic cup with the logo on it.
The girls are making some kind of exotic dessert. I just knodded out again...after answering tons and tons of Eisely business emails... mostly to new management.
Stacy is going to record some sweet tracks with Blake for The Elected's new project. Or something. i dunno. Blake called last night; I guess they'll figure it out in the morning. Marvin, (Nylon) is coming over tomorrow to hang... and talk about the video. Super nice guy. Very guality. Very genuine... loves the band. I gotta quit yambering.
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