the new Your Heart Breaks album is coming out. You can order it here!
11.11.11
Hampton Inn
Wedgewood, Maryland
Here we are. Your heart breaks and Kimya Dawson in a wooded area of Maryland. I arrived late in the night after flying into Philly, playing at the Unitarian church and then traveling until exhausted.
This hotel is nice. Kimya says this is the only hotel chain that she trust to let panda use the tub. That’s good information people . How many times have you risked a rash, planters warts or some unknown disease from a hotel bathtub? How many times have you had to hit the pharmacy in a strange town, or country for that matter?
The pool smells like mold and chlorine. It is dimly lit, indoors, right next to the office. There is no hot tub. That’s like zero fucking points people. It struck out on every level. I didn’t even go into the room to smell the mold. And right next to the office. No fucking way. People are total creeps. You know they stare at you in the pool. And you can’t sneak any friends into the pool when it’s right next to the office.
Speaking of Creeps…
I did work out in the fitness center though, After that I made a few phone calls in what appeared to be a recreation room. There was Foosball and Pool, but no one to play it with. As I talked on the phone in my sweaty shirt and short shorts, an old man pulled up to the fitness center and took to leaning on the window and staring at me. For a LONG TIME. He was frumpy and not at all looking interested in fitness. Unless we are talking about my fitness. Then he seemed quite interested.
It’s Veterans day. He appeared to be dressed as one. After I left the dark rec room, and had to walk past him to get to the elevator, he stared out the hotel backdoor longingly, like he was scared to go outside and perhaps a bit disappointed that I was leaving?
Also, while we were eating at Denny’s, and it was Veterans Day and every veteran got a free Grand Slam, a young officer gave an impromptu speech about how grateful he is for every veteran in the Denny’s and how he is shipping off to Afghanistan next year. Then we all clapped, because impromptu speeches really bring a room together. Especially if you are not sure what’s about to happen.
Like when suddenly someone who is not in an apron announces in the middle of the Denny’s, “Can I have your attention please?” then it seems about 50/50 that the store might be getting robbed.
Anyway. I wanted to talk about all the new toys that I saw today at the toystore.
1. Look at that Ken doll on clearance. You tap his chest to record a phrase and then he says it back!
2. And what about that update to the game Operation! Holy shit. Superhero Surgery!
3. There is no fucking way this ball bounces 75 feet. I tried it. It barely made it up past my hips.That is bullshit.
4. In this game, a toy dog poops and you pick it up. Enough said.
5. Look at these crazy party monsters I partied with in D.C.
6. Can anyone understand this note? The monsters gave it to me.
Its 4:38am. Jet-lag is crazy. I need to try and sleep. Poolside Clyde, over and out.
12th floor, Penthouse Pool
Las Brisas Hotel, Mexico City
I’m seated here at the pool on the roof of the hotel in the Pink Zone in Mexico City. We flew in yesterday and descended through immense thunderhead clouds. They reminded me of the clouds that Jason Lutes draws in the graphic novel Berlin.
Earth will be performing tonight at Lunario. This show was originally scheduled for the beginning of our touring year, a bill with the Melvins. Due to the insanity of the Melvins being in not one, but two major earthquakes (New Zealand and then Japan) in a row, they cancelled the show so we had to postpone until October.
The Melvins are not here, but Earth is and I am ecstatic to be with them. Last night we strolled through the neighborhood to a local restaurant, El Refugio Fonda. On the way, we were given many gentlemanly offers to enjoy a discothèque. Andres, the promoter, was our guide to amazing food. His family goes back 3 or 4 generations in Mexico City. We ate fried worms in tacos, the kind of worms that live in the Agave plants. He told us there is a White Worm, a delicacy here, because it is so rare. There are thousands of brown worms and then one white worm in the Agave Plants. They are the same kind of worm. He suspects that the bigger white worm could be the Queen. I need to research this.
Andres in particular had an affinity for Ant eggs. They were much larger than I thought they would be. They were fried and served with guacamole and chips. While the worms tasted of many flavors, the eggs were of a lighter palate, seasoned more by their surroundings.
We also shared a dish that I am told is the national dish of independence. I had begun by suggesting Chile Rellenos, but Andres pointed me towards a more special flavor.
A giant stuffed chili (I’m not sure what it was stuffed with, I could not distinguish between the flavor and texture of a meat or a nut) served cold with a layer of white paste comprised of a special nut. The nut has to be hand-peeled and then removed and mashed up. I’m told it’s a very time intensive process. The whole thing is then covered in pomegranate seeds and topped with cilantro, so on the plate it looks like a giant cartoon carrot that Bunniculla has sucked the orange out of.
I got pretty jacked up on Horchata. That is some good sweet nectar. Everyone else drank Mezcal of different varieties. We were presented 4 different kinds, like a wine sniffing. They all had different aromas and weights to them.
I woke and joined the band for a complimentary hotel breakfast. What a spread. America really is a sack of cheapskates when it comes to hotel breakfasts. In countries all over the world, I have enjoyed delicious local foods in hotels, but all over America, it’s the same old shit. A stand out I can recall was a texas shaped waffle iron in an Econolodge outside of Houston.
Welcome to Mexico. Breakfast extends around the room. There are bacons, eggs, chilies, pork sausages, red and green Chilaquiles, small hot cakes, fruit fruit fruit, yogurts, mystery sauces, salsas, real juices, giant raisins, sweet breads. It’s ridiculous.
After a sleepy breakfast, I hit the pool. The sun has come out, shining through the very real pollution layer of the city. A Muzac version of How Deep is Your Love is blasting through the speakers up here as I peer beyond the glass walls to overlook the Pink Zone, the neighborhood we are camped out in. There are colorful buildings, tall skyscrapers under construction, a golden statue and then a layer of pollution that ends my view within a few miles.
The pool is made up of 2 pools connected. You know how I love that. There is not a hot tub, but it’s warm here. I probably do not really need one. The first pool, the lower pool, Pool A we can call it, is really shallow. It’s not even up to my waist. I suspect this is to accommodate foreigners. I think it’s a drinking pool. You order a margarita and playfully splash your friends on spring break in this pool. Lori says, perhaps it is for children. Though I am hesitant to repeal the idea of a pool structure intentionally designed for drinking, it is also a possibility. Children may very much enjoy this pool. There is no deep end to inhale water and have to cough it back up and into the pool in classic kid style. Yuck.
The other pool, Pool B, is very small. It is elevated above Pool A and spills over into pool A. This pool has a sign. “For swimming in place.” I don’t know how to swim in place but it occurs to me that I should try to. There is no current to push against and I end up spinning in place. I am baffled by this idea. The pool is deeper but I can easily stand in it with my head fully out of the water.
The temperature is good, the chlorine count is low, and the view is cool. I have to say, movies portraying Mexico City visually do a decent job. This city looks like what it looks like on film. Tall buildings, colorful houses, and smog. I didn’t stay in the pool too long, but long enough to realize I have no fucking idea how to Swim In Place.
Time to go out and explore.
Pool Rating: 4 of 5
Hotel Rating: 4 of 5
Holiday Inn Express Medical Center Parking lot Hotel
Memphis, TN
The only good thing about this hotel is that it is .9 miles from Sun Studios. So when you wake up and immediately want to leave the hotel, you can and should go directly there.
This hotel is identified as medical center hotel. That should tip you to the fact that its nasty. Cheap and nasty.
I gaze at the pool out the window. As I put that first stale bite of Cherrios into my mouth, the silent crunch that lasts forever and seems to extend out far past the event horizon, I realize I will never enter the pool.
It’s disgusting here. Never stay at a hotel that offers hot popcorn until 4am.
At breakfast when I put the “eggs” and “biscuit” into my mouth, I can not tell which food is which. Neither have flavor or texture.
It’s all wrong.
The pull out sofa I slept on last night had no sheets or blankets. The plastic wrapping on it squeaked as I unfolded the bed. I shuddered.
Springs in my back, I’m just glad to not be sleeping on the floor. The hot popcorn until 4am medical center old gravy gray carpeted floor.
Get me out of here.
Hotel rating: 1 of 5. (they have a cop on duty 24/7 in the parking lot. Good for a van full of gear, and for the fight that my tour mates had to call in when people were screaming and throwing shit in the next room over.)
Pool rating: who cares, just don’t stay here.
Ramada Inn on Bourbon, New Orleans , Louisiana
By guest reviewer Lori Goldston
The hotel is on Bourbon street, in the thick of debaucherous tourist mayhem - down the block, bikini clad strippers beckon in doorways. Somehow they manage to maintain a civil atmosphere inside the building. On the night we arrived there was a classical vocal recital in the dining room, and when I walked past I heard a man a woman singing a duet from “West Side Story” to a room full of elderly tourists, a welcome oasis of wholesomeness.
The pool is outside in the courtyard, visible from the front desk. My swim took place around 10:00 a.m. The social atmosphere was very friendly and intelligent, although I suspect it might get boozier as the day goes on. When I arrived a couple was sitting on the edge, clothed, feet dangling in the water. They were chatting with two men who were in the pool. Happily, I had the rest of the pool to myself. As I was leaving one of the men apologized for staring at me. I look remarkable like his sister Edna, who lives in Alaska.
The pool is attractive and pretty big. The tiles that line the edge have a very pretty blue and green wave motif.
The very high rating for the hotel is partly in light of the very modest price for the room, which was clean and comfortable. Also, the coffee in the lobby was very good. It’s a relief to abandon my ridiculous coffee snobbery for the cozy nostalgia of well executed percolator coffee.
Hotel rating: 5
Pool rating: 4.5
Chlorine rating: 3
One Eyed Jacks (not a pool)
Our day off on tour was amazing! Just partied front row at the Meat Puppets show. There were probably about 100 people there. Screamed along with Lake of Fire. So did the sound man. A rough mosh-pit started and a real jerk barreled into us. Dylan almost got into a real fight trying to stop this pit jerk.
Simple Request: If you have a ton of hair and you plan on peaking on Ecstasy with your boyfriend at a Meat Puppets show, please don’t stand next to me and whip your hair back n forth. It keeps hitting me in the face and I think that it feels kind of gross.
Hotel Monteleone
New Orleans, LA
“honestly I just want to be batman”
This pool is full of nerds . the biggest nerds of all. LARPers . Pasty white married in their 20s nerds from all over the country here to LARP. They are loud and act like children in the pool, splashing and dunking. They come from Michigan, New York and central Georgia. They apologize for being “terribly rude” and ask me what Order in am in.
I fit right in. They think I’m one of them, after a few minutes of trying to determine who these doughy boys with bravado are, I ask what they are in town for. I’ve already attained that they are either vampires / enthusiasts or Christians. Or both.
Side Note: on the way into the hotel, I saw a man that seemed to have all the symptoms associated with post vampire bite. He was crouched behind the hotel ashtray in a fetal ball smoking, looking paler than most and squinty eyed.
Anyhow, these LARPers tell me (like I don’t know what LARPing is and I wouldn’t understand) they say : you could best describe it as improve theater. Then they all laugh. A whole pool of giggling pasty LARPers. Can you imagine !
I love a pool full of people who know how to enjoy a pool. Don’t get me wrong. There are days when I want the solitude of an early morning swim. But a mid-day New Orleans pool adventure should be full of a few splashy dunky horse fighting characters who are there to use the water in every way possible. For both friendship and sibling revenge.
Did I mention that the pool is on the roof of the hotel ? Towering 16 floors above the french quarter, the roof offers a relaxing place away from the bustle and beads of bourbon street. There is a poolside bar if you need anything and currently the soundtrack is the steel drum version of la Bambara.
These LARPers are OTH (off the hook). Anyhow, here’s the rundown. The pool is a great temperature, there were some leaves but no weird dead or in a coma scary bugs, and the best part is, we are not even staying in this hotel. You don’t need a key card to access the roof or the pool. We got a room for $49 a night on bourbon off hotwire, then I just put on my trunks and walked a few blocks over to the hotel Monteleone.
You need to take two elevators to get here. The lobby goes to the 14th floor. Then you get off and loop left to a new set of elevators. Push the up button and then choose R for roof! Presto. A free rooftop pool for your vacation or tour. A room at the Monteleone will run you about $250 a night, so save yourself some money and enjoy. Remember : the best things in life are free. Or so I’ve heard.
I spent the morning with Lori Goldston. We roamed the streets, up royal to Cafe Flora. Sometimes you just want food to taste like you cooked it. In these situations, a $6 burrito from Flora really does the job. Accompanied by an iced coffee from Cafe du Nord, this stroll will make your morning fantastic and pump you up for a round of punk rock purchases.
We wandered down to the newest location for the Iron Rail Book Collective. Their temporary home is on Decator street. I picked up a Limpwrist vinyl and 2 local comic zines. Warning: this is one of those collectives that does not have exact change. If and when you shop here, be sure to bring an assortment of cash. People wonder why anarchist bookstore/libraries struggle. This is one reason why. Not having a proper cash box to help facilitate the purchase of a hardcore queer record is a real turn off. Volunteer run doesn’t have to mean disinterested and unhelpful.
I don’t wanna rag on this, but as a punk and a capitalist, when I see a vision of realized anarchism and it looks disorganized and boring, it’s not helping the Anarchist punk cause win me over. If I want to buy a record to listen to some hot faggots scream about things I’m interested in, it shouldn’t be made any more difficult. It was hard enough to survive a queer youth.
Public announcement : anarchist collectives that sell things. Please have a properly supplied cash box. It’s good for the cause. I promise.
One more thing before I go. A trip to Nola is not complete without a visit to the Verti Marte on royal. I got a french fry po boy and some green beans and broccoli for $12. The first time I ever went to the Verti Marte I got MASS cruised by the dude behind the counter. More cruised than I’ve ever been cruised before. When I got to the front of the line and ordered, he smiled at me and said in a fierce southern accent, “damn I thought you was a boy!” I went back yesterday to look for him but I suspect he is long gone. That was probably 8 years ago. I hope he found some other little pasty white LARPing twink to take home cause I sure missed my chance.
New Orleans, LA
9/14/11
I’m here at One Eyed Jacks with Earth and Mount Eerie. Phils brand of music on this tour has been particularly Twin Peaksesque, and paired with his Canadian Tour Mates No Kids members Nick and Julia, this night is like a run up into the David Lynch northern dark woods to visit the Bar of the same name, pick up a kilo and book a room for an hour.
We’re staying on Bourbon street and there is a pool at our hotel, but it seems RISKY to swim in a pool on this street. Who do I ask if the pool vomit count has been high this week or just how many daqueries have melted into the sunny blue waters? Or a basic question. What is the pee to water ratio this week? And after how much Chlorine does pee become water again? There is a lot to consider when you think about taking a dip in the French Quarter. Which is why tomorrow I will be headed to one of my all-time favorite luxury getaways.
The Hotel Monteleone is one of the countries national treasures. Up there with such things as 2 corn dogs for 99 cents at 7-11, or a fresh peach and a tiny taco from Pike Place Market. There are some things I hope never change. I first took a dip in this wonder after a playful afternoon in the french quarter. I was touring with the Sex Workers Art Show at the time. It must have been 2007 or 2008 I’m guessing but honestly, I have been on tour for the last 11 years straight so things tend to sift into a fine flour sack of life.
A few of us had gone to a small bar called the Corner Pocket to enjoy some local gentlemen on a bar. The men walk the bar, barefoot in their underwear. It’s a beginners bar. You can sign up to work a four hour shift on the bar for tips. At least that’s what I’m told. A friendly punk rocker had pointed us there and we came and met him at his work, this club. After ogling the goodies and tipping well, we departed the Corner Pocket as a pack of drunk children do. Penniless and tipsy, we proceeded to lead our new found gentleman friends to the rooftop pool of our hotel, the Monteleone. We partied in that pool and we partied hard. People made out, swam like dolphins, sunbathed and gawked in wonder at the incredible view of the French Quarter.
It’s been years since that wonderfully sunny day. I’ll never know what happened to that young man from the Corner Pocket, but I hope he remembers that pool as fondly as I do. I’ll let you all know how it goes tomorrow. From One Eyed Jacks in New Orleans, over and out.
Wynn Hotel
Las Vegas, Nevada
The greatest week of my life. I finally got to see Garth Brooks live and in concert. But in order to do this, I had to travel to Las Vegas, to the Wynn Hotel where he has a five year contract.
I have to say, this was the best vacation I have ever taken. Rides, the Circus Circus hotel, Dennys, Slot machines, video game arcades and GARTH.
Part of the deal with going to see GARTH is that you get this $200 ticket that includes your hotel room for the night. And zowee, the WYNN is where it’s at. When you enter your hotel room, the blinds mechanically part and reveal a view of Vegas. KING SIZE BED. GIANT TV. (((DOESN’T SMELL FUNKY!)))
GARTH BROOKS WAS AMAZING. And Trisha Yearwood sang a few duets with him to BLOW MY MIND and the minds of the other 998 middle-aged women who were there freaking screaming their faces off. It was a really intimate theater. The rows of alphabets only goes once. I was in like Q row or something and I could see it all really well. All of what you ask.
Well it was just Garth. He was wearing a horible ball cap and his button up shirt was untucked, dangling out of his jeans. He said he just flew in on a plane from Oklahoma where he had just watched his kids play a soccer game. To keep it real, he looked pretty bad. His guitar and mic were wireless, so there was NOTHING onstage with him.
But god damn he ruled that room. He ran from side to side, paced and hollerin’.
I think Garth’s spirit animal is a wild bull.
The show was like a combination of several things. Garth took us on a journey of the heart through his musical history. It was part concert, part cover band, and part lecture series. Pretend someone asked you what kind of music you remember your parents listened to as a child, and how that affected your songwriting today. That’s what the show was. Garth’s journey through music. All 2.5 hours of the show. From his roots in the Honkytonks to his all-time favorite show in Ireland. He took us there. All 998 screaming middle-aged ladies, and me and meghan.
When Trisha Yearwood took the stage, people lost their shit. (They say they never were unfaithful, but today on tour we were talking about it in the Earth van and Dylan says he heard otherwise. ooohhh lala) Anyways, I’m happy for them.
QUESTION: BUT WHAT ABOUT THE POOL?
ANSWER:If this pool had a website, it would be: www.lookatthisfuckingpool.com
The pool at the Wynn is really a series of pools connected through small channels much like the city of Venice. Several foot bridges go over the pools at various locations. It was so large, I found it a bit overwhelming to say the least. It wasn’t really the best last day in Vegas activity.
But the Wynn has something you do not find everywhere (Garth and Trish, yes) and POOLSIDE DINING. I ate a Waffle, topped with a Fried Chicken, topped with a fried egg, covered in Cayenne Maple Syrup. Pictured above.
It was stupendous. I have yet to be awed by such a meal again.
Hotel: 5 of 5 stars
Pool: 4.5 (half point off for exhaustion incurred when trying to locate the bathroom in the maze of Venice)
Chlorine: 4 of 5 stars (5 being HIGH CHLORINE COUNT)
