Well, it looks like I’m officially on tour. I’ve been putting off writing anything because I’m not really a blogger, so I’m not sure of what kind of “voice” a blog is supposed to have. As a result of my lack of direction and my rushed posts, this blog is bound to have a bit of a rough and unrefined feel. You see? My sentences are already full of redundant adjectives.
Alright, alright, alright. Enough with the boring and apologetic prefacey stuff. Down to business.
I want to thank all of my friends and family for making me feel so loved as I was sent off. They have all supported me so much both morally and financially. On Sunday morning before I left, my family and friends took me out to The Breakfast Club. When our waitress and my dear friend Rachel brought the check over and I saw the doodle she’d drawn on the back of the check I wanted to cry. It was a little dog with a speech bubble that said “We’ll miss you, Jerm!” It’s a good thing I’m so macho otherwise I might have turned into a pitiful puddle of tears and snot.
Caldwell was pretty fun. I arrived a day before my show so that I could wake up in time for a radio interview. Short radio and television spots seem to be some of the best ways to get exposure these days. I think people are getting too comfortable just sitting in their houses. They like it when entertainment is brought to them, and not the other way around. I’m not criticizing, because I am guilty of the same thing. I am just observing.
The show booked in Caldwell was a house show, so I was able to stay at the venue. On Monday morning before the radio interview, I rode bikes around Caldwell with my host, Bert. Bert is a friendly guy in his late forties or early fifties with a couple of grown kids, and he’s full of stories about being a roadie for various Christian bands from the 80s, including a band called “The Call.” His son is a semi-professional rugby player, which I think is pretty cool. I don’t know squat about rugby (or most sports for that matter), but I watched Bert’s son’s game, and I enjoyed it.
Caldwell isn’t a very interesting place right now. The downtown is halfway rebuilt. The rest is run down and looks like a ghost town, but Bert is currently in the process of securing a building in which he hopes to build an event center. He has some good ideas for boosting the local economy in Caldwell, one of them being the events center. He hopes that will bring more people into the town and encourage local business.
The radio interview was in Boise proper, so Bert and I drove down, and I had the fortune of finally meeting Eric Gilbert of Finn Riggins. He conducted the interview, he played a recording of one of my new songs, and then I played a song live. We were there for about a half hour and then went for a walk around town. We ended up eating lunch at a Vietnamese place and talking about how much we hate church politics.
In the evening, Bert and his roommates made dinner for everybody: barbecued pork, and chicken for the kosher members of Fleet Street Klezmer Band. The salad was dressed with a homemade blackberry vinaigrette, and for a side dish we had garlic mashed potatoes. The flavors of the meal were perfectly balanced between sweet and savory, and they made so much food that nobody felt guilty about going back for seconds.
Two of the opening bands (Fleet Street Klezmer Band and Bamboo Spork) had the sort of charming and folksy Eastern European flare that I find inspirational. The third opener, The Green Zoo, were more on the indie/new emo end of the spectrum. I exchanged CDs with them and really enjoyed listening to their album on the way to Huntsville, UT. It is a concept album that mixes songs and dramatic dialogue in an attempt to explore existential ideas. I thought this was a risky and ambitious undertaking for a first album, but the disk was well put together.
Well, I don’t want to give you too much to read at once. I’ll try and come back to this tomorrow and fill you in on more of what has been going on. I’ve got plenty more to say about the last couple of nights, and I’m looking forward to the show tonight. Just sitting in the coffee shop and trying to catch up on stuff right now. I’ll try to send a few postcards back home. In the mean time, keep me updated on what’s going on back home. I’m sorry to be missing so many things that are going on in all of your lives this summer: weddings, parties, people moving into newly bought homes, and all other sorts or transitions. I miss all y’all in Moscow, but I know this summer will go quickly, and I’ll be home soon.
Until next time,
P.S. Is “until next time” a tagline for the end of some 90s cartoon? I kind of feel like it is. If you know, tell me. This is going to bug me now.