Day 5 - Orbit Billiards, Charlottesville, VA

Don't ask

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2/25 - We had more soup at the Vietnemese restaurant today, before heading down to Charlottesville. Yet another example of how strange people's senses of humor can get when they spend too much time together: during lunch, we started joking around about a fictitious TV clown that likes to de-pants kids. Bad enough. But then, Greg got excited and said "yeah, he depantses you, then he licks your legs! ... (uncomfortable pause) ... i'm always taking it one step too far, aren't i?" Yes you are, Greg.

Today, i almost bought a bass case shaped like a coffin.

I should mention how appropriate it is to listen to The Birthday Party while driving through brown fields with dead trees in Virginia at dusk. Stated James, "Appalachian music for people who don't like bluegrass."

Scenery

Conversation yesterday turned to the idea of crashing clubs and trying to get gigs, as we have none between tonite and Friday nite. We also talked about playing acoustically on campuses and such, and talk of this turned heated when i said i adamantly refused to play any Beatles songs. Taking such a hard line on such a trivial matter does seem like a divisive thing to do - even i admit that - but i can't help it. Everytime i see some fuck-o playing a Beatles song on an acoustic guitar in the park or at the Bedford Ave. station, i really REALLY just want to hit them and smash their guitar. Really. I hate that shit so much it's mind boggling. The only people i can accept playing an acoustic guitar are Frank Black, Johnny Cash and Hasil Adkins. Everyone else sounds like a jerky hippy. I bet that bartender in Philly plays Beatles songs on the acoustic guitar when he's trying to pick up on girls. I want no part of it. I can see playing our own songs, as it advances a cause of some sort, plus i am interested to see how they would sound. Playing other people's stuff, tho, esp. the Beatles, just sounds wincingly cheesy. We finally agreed that they could play the Beatles songs, and while they're doing that, i'll just run around and harrass people, or pick up some orange drinks. It's also funny how increasingly within the band dynamic, i'm seen as the hateful contrarian. A charming one tho. I hope.

Last night, we were treated to a fantastic dinner cooked up by one of Mr. Sparber's interns, Michelle and her roommate, Natalie, who went to culinary school. A splendid meatloaf, polenta, a gigantic salad, and the best cookies in the history of anything. We ate like royalty, only royalty doesn't have to discuss why they hate the Beatles and why they really hate Crosby, Stills and Nash, during dinner. But i digress. I was also treated to a tour of Mr. Sparber's collection of fine scotch. Some of the bottles were around $200 a pop, if i remember correctly. I bet that thing was guarded like Ft. Knox when James was living there.