I have no reasonable form of transportation, at the moment. Basically, I'm kinda fucked.
Let me explain how something like this could happen.
On late Sunday night (Monday morning, really), I packed up my '99 Subaru Legacy wagon and rolled down I-5 to Southern California to play some solo gigs. I had initially considered renting a car for the trip but I figured since it was a quick one and I was staying in California, I could maybe save a few bucks by taking my own car down instead.
The trip was smooth. My car ran great and the weather held out, even though there was a big storm in the forecast. Along the way, I pulled over once to catch a little nap but I made it down to Orange County in really good time.
I arrived in Fullerton and found the Slide Bar where I played on Monday night. It's a nice but slightly Hard Rock Cafe-ish type of bar with framed memorabilia of Orange County's cream of the rock & roll crop, everything from Social Distortion to The Righteous Brothers. I was there a few hours early. There was what looked like a movie set deal setup up inside. They were filming a movie or tv show or something. I hid out in my car and managed to get a little more sleep before the night got started.
The show was fun. The turnout was light but I enjoyed the sets of the openers - Ari Shine and Joey Briggs who I know from when his band The Briggs toured the U.S. with 7Seconds in 2006. He's a good dude and a terrific singer-songwriter in his own right and his backup band is great.
My set was pretty solid. I didn't fuck up too many things and my voice and strumming was in good shape. Shows what can happen when you take a break from touring.
After my set, I chatted with people, sold some merch, grabbed some food to go (the Slide Bar has a restaurant too), got paid and headed off for L.A.. It was late and because I'm a weirdo and don't like to bug friends about places to stay even though they kindly offer on a regular basis.
Once I hit L.A., I did what I always do and drove straight to Fairfax Avenue and Canter's Restaurant. I wasn't hungry so I didn't eat there but I have spent a lot of time in that area and it just feels familiar and comfortable to me and I always end up in that neighborhood anytime I'm in L.A.. Kinda strange but it is what it is. I found a good parking spot in a low-lit part of the street and, after I cleaned up and brushed my teeth in the Canter's restroom, I got comfy and watched a little of Dawn On The Dead (the original one) on my little portable DVD player before falling out for the night.
On Tuesday, I woke up around 9am, feeling fairly rested and un-sore from sleeping on a car seat. I managed to get a good, solid 5 hours of rest in and I felt like I was good to go for the day. I drove over to a Starbucks on Melrose (yeah, yeah, I really do hate Starbucks but I know their wi-fi works well and their restrooms are usually always clean) and did e-mails and stuff for a couple of hours.
After that, I walked around Melrose for a bit and took photos of stuff that looked interesting to me. One thing I kept noticing were these little tight, stretchy-looking pants that just about every woman i saw was wearing. Every girl - white, black, tall, shirt, thin and overweight - seemed to be wearing these fucking things and I was curious as to how come. Later that night, the lovely ladies of Cunt Sparrer would explain to me that they're called Jeggings and they're all the rage in Southern California.
Whatever.
As I was getting in my car to head over to the venue, the Google car with it's big weird boxy camera on top drove by and I got a little excited. Maybe someday, a few months from now even, people will be able to look at Melrose and N. Stanley on Google Street View and see me, in all my grimy, bloated and not-so-well caffeinated glory.
I headed to Downtown Los Angeles and found the Redwood Bar. There wasn't much going on in the neighborhood so after a quick walk around the block and a few pics snapped, I went back to my car and napped a little more before heading in with my guitars.
The club is really cool. Sort of a low-lit divey little place but with loads of style and a lounge-y type of feel about it. I talked with the Joey Briggs crew and JC the pedal steel guitar and mandolin player told me he listened a lot to Backaches and Bad Dreams last night and offered to play on it if i played it during my set. My favorite part of the recorded version of that song is the slide guitar bits my pal Ross Hammond played on it but I rarely get to have someone play it live. I was psyched.
A few friends showed up. My old former-Sacramentan buddy Danielle. Phil and his wife Amy. And Brie who brought me an amazing veggie Ding-Dong-like dessert treat.
Also, Exene Cervenka. She had e-mailed me a few days before asking what time I was playing and said she was going to come out to see me. And she did! I had met her one time before when I went to see X play in Sacramento but this was the first time we actually got to chat and catch up on the upcoming tour we're doing together in March. She's super nice and down to earth but despite all that, I still found myself looking at her and thinking, "you are are fucking Exene Cervenka! you're in fucking X!"
I think I handled myself pretty well in her presence.
We pulled in a nice crowd and the "vibe" of the night was GREAT. Cunt Sparrer played and were a ton of fun (and really cool people), Joey Briggs rocked it up again and a comic named Kyle Kinane got up just before I went on and was very funny and got the crowd going well.
I had a blast playing. I was in a wonderful mood and was enjoying the overall mood of the crowd. I think I played good or at least several people told me they thought I did. I called JC and his pedal steel machine up with me and we closed the set out with a glorious and beautiful version of Backaches. After we finished, I felt like I had just had a really kick-ass orgasm. It was seriously that satisfying.
I ended up crashing at Danielle and her hubby Andrew's place up near Burbank and slept amazingly soundly. I never get enough sleep on these trips. Ever.
On Wednesday, I got up and after gassing up, headed out to Riverside. I wanted to get out there early because I was playing at the Barn which is on the campus of UC Riverside and I tend to get a little confused and lost whenever I play at schools. Go figure. I was hours and hours early but I went and found the entrance and parking lot next to the venue just so I knew that when I came back, I'd know exactly where to go and where to park for the night.
I found a nearby cafe and hung out there for about an hour doing e-mails and calling in to a local to do a phone interview.
I went back to the venue and changed my guitar strings out on the grass. It was pretty chilly but the air felt crisp and clean and I was enjoying being out in it. Ted Leo pulled up in his rental car and we chatted a bit. I was psyched to be playing and seeing him for the next 2 gigs. Amazing performer and one helluva dude. We got done talking and I said, "well, i think i'm going to my car to take a quick nap" and he laughed and said, "i was just thinking about doing the same thing".
Oh, the exciting and glamourous life of being a crazy rock and roller! Crashing out in economy-sized rental cars before a night of rocking out at a college!
I woke up to a tap on my car window. It was Dave, the show booker and he politely asked me if I would go and do a college radio interview. He had asked the same of Ted so we both got in a car belonging to one of the DJs and headed over to the station to do our collaborative interview. It was short and fun. I'm not fond of doing them these days but when they're like this, I like them ok.
Plus, I still always get a thrill being inside a radio station that actually has vinyl and turntables to play it on.
The show started around 7:30. The opener was a local named Dan Coffman who I have played with before and like a lot. He did a great job kicking things off.
The place had filled out pretty nicely by the time I went on. I loved the set. The sound was immaculate, seriously nearly-perfect and that really allowed me to stretch out vocally and hit notes that I'm able to when I'd feeling good and the sound is just right. the crowd was enthusiastic and responsive and I had a lovely time up there, playing my old songs and telling my old tales.
Ted's set was awesome. It was just him, his Gibson electric and a Fender Twin Reverb amp and he rocked it up as though he had the Pharmacists behind him. I caught the first 3-4 songs when my phone buzzed my thigh and I looked at it to see an e-mail from a buddy in Chico who had sent me questions for an e-mail interview he needed answers for the very next morning. I found a spot to get on my laptop and I listened to Ted play while I banged out answers to send back to him. It was quite nice, actually. Maybe I should only do interviews whilst listening to people I like play live.
After the show, I decided to drive up to San Francisco for the last show of the trip. I was still buzzing and feeling wide awake from the gig and I figured, I'd drive as much of the trip as I could and I could just pull over and sleep whenever I needed to. The weather had turned nasty quickly and the rain started in while I whizzed past Corona, Anaheim, Commerce and L.A.. I stopped in Santa Clarita for gas and coffee and up I headed towards the Grapevine. My car was handling the climb up the grade pretty well. I kept my eyes on the gauges and listened for any funny engine or tire sounds. Before the trip, I hadn't really thought of having any mechanical problems. My only real concern was my tires.
I hit the peak of the Grapevine and was on the descent when I heard a weird clicking noise that sounded like it was coming from just underneath the radio. I assumed it was the Kepi Ghoulie X-mas ornament I have hanging off the never-used ashtray and kept driving.
And then, right as I got to the very bottom of the grade, i watched as my temperature gauge shot straight up to the hot sign. What the fuck? I wasn't able to pull over for about 5 miles, not until I reached the own of Grapevine. I took it easy and slowed until I found a gas station to pull into. I opened up the hood and noticed that the entire guts of the car seemed to be drenched in some type of liquid. I smelled it to see if it was oil but it didn't appear to be. I twisted open the radiator cap and water boiled up but not too much and not for very long. It seemed normal to me. No burning smells or clanging noises or any indication that my car might be fucked.
I turned off the engine and let the car sit for a good 30 minutes while quietly hoping that nothing was seriously wrong with my car, not in Grapevine, California, in the middle of basically, nowhere. I
I tried re-starting it and it wouldn't kick over. It sounded like it has when the battery is dying but not completely dead. I waited a little longer and tried it again. Nothing.
Fuck.
At this point, I was beginning to really worry and before I knew it, I was starting to feel the weirdness of a panic attack coming on. I've talked and sang openly about my anxiety issues many times over the years but I don't think anybody besides my wife Allyson and maybe a handle of close friends and family members truly know just how severe and real my anxiety disorder issues has been much of my life. Over the last couple of years, especially after the closing of the second location of the True Love (Al and I's old coffeehouse business), I've managed to get a pretty good handle on it and haven't really had any serious episodes like I once did. These days, if I feel like it is starting to creep up, I can usually always find a way to talk myself out of it.
I sat there in the darkness and cold, slowly allowing the reality of my situation to hit me. I looked down at my phone and saw that the battery level was at about 50%. Not too good. I couldn't plug my phone charger into the cig lighter because I had no car power. I started imagining my phone dying. And having no way to make a phone call out to anybody who might be able to help. And being stuck in a town where it was highly likely that no auto repair shop existed within. I was freaking myself out!
I attempted to start my car again and this time, it started up but it sounded weird and I could tell it went to sputter itself off. I revved up the engine, put it into gear and drove it around the parking lot but my poor Subaru wanted to die. It seemed to be fighting but it wanted to die. I pulled over to a spot where there was more light, where I might be left alone and where a tow truck would have easy access to. I turned the car off one last time and when I tried starting it again, nothing. Again.
I jumped out of the car and walked over to the gas station, if for no other reason, just to let the frigid air hit my body and to see another human's face and hear his or her voice.
I asked the young guy working there if there was a nearby garage and he said that there wasn't but handed me a business card for a towing service that he highly recommended. I made a couple of calls to the emergency roadside assistance i have access to but neither were do-able financially and I was really starting to think that I was going to be stuck in Grapevine for days, maybe even the rest of my life.
I reclined back in my seat to try and rest my brain awhile but realized that the car was quickly getting colder so I grabbed a sweatshirt to put on under my hoodie and denim jacket and bundled up good with a blanket in brought with me. I was getting so panic-y I was starting to feel light-headed and nauseous so I grabbed the DV player, put in the 'Stones In Exile' doc and watched it until the battery konked out. I looked at my iPhone to see if I had any service (going over the Grapevine, I had none) and I did so I logged on to Facebook and decided to post an update about my ordeal and asking if anyone knew anything about any car repair service where I was. Miraculously (to me), people were awake and responded, expressing concern and suggesting possible solutions.
The best one came from my friend Jessica who lives in Bakersfield which turned out to only be about 35 miles from where I was stuck. She has booked gigs in B'field for me before, is a kick-ass rock & roll photographer and she kindly offered to help me in whatever way I needed, including picking me up, getting me to her auto mechanic friend's garage and making me breakfast.
I began to feel like a some hope was within grabbing distance.
I called the towing service the gas station kid referred me to. It was a recording. I just hung up but 2 minutes later, my phone rang and it was from the number I had just called. I answered and the voice on the other end was faint and appeared to be a very heavy Spanish one. I tried to explain my situation and the caller attempted to speak back to me but his English was not so good and it took a good 10 minutes for us to communicate back and forth before it was decided that I would pay him $100 to have him come tow me and my sick car into Bakersfield and to my pal Jessica's friend's garage.
It took about 30 minutes for the tow guy to show up. He had a big truck with a weird little trailer thingy attached. He said hello, shook my hand and asked me to help him push my car closer to where his truck was. He got it all hooked up and I hopped into the cab and off we went, to Bakersfield. Along the way, he stopped twice to hand out his business cards to potential customers. We made awkward attempts to chit-chat. He seemed to understand me well but I had a really hard time understanding him. Eventually, I was picking up on about every 5 or 7 words and before long, we were getting along pretty well. He introduced himself as Edwin and told me about his family and how he loved working hard and running his own business. He asked me about what I did and when I said I was a musician, he got excited and asked me questions about it. At some point, he looked over at me, smiled, put his hand on my shoulder and said, "you are a good guy".
Wow. Just, wow.
We got into Bakersfield around 11 am and I was feeling a little more upbeat about the situation and life in general. We got to Jess' friend Brian's garage and hand-pushed my car in to space in his lot. I paid him the $100 and gave him a copy of Good Luck Buttons and he seemed genuinely moved and gave me a big bear hug, my first from a tow truck driver.
I went up up and introduced myself to Brian and he immediately popped open the hood of my car and knew what was wrong. It was the worse thing it could possibly be, at least as far as I was concerned: a blown head gasket. He gave me all possible scenarios and some rough estimates on what it would cost to fix the car and suggested that I seriously consider all possibilities. It's an 11 year old car with a shitload of miles on it and I am looking at a minimum of $1500 to get the parts and labor together. He told me I could leave my car on his lot for awhile.
Jessica showed up and took me over to her place where I met her son, brother and where she made me this really great veggie breakfast burrito. I got online to see about renting a car. I had very little cash on me and am currently in 'Lo/No budget' life mode but eventually, I decided that the best idea was to grab the cheapest rental car I could find and beat it up to San Francisco to play my show there with Ted Leo at the Bottom Of The Hill. I wasn't going to be making a ton of money at the show but at least I could cover the car rental and get my ass back home. Plus, I HATE canceling show. I truly do. I kept thinking how much worse I would feel missing this gig.
Jessica drove me over to a Hertz and after a little song and dance with the rep there ("i'll give you this car", "no wait, I can't give you this car, i'll give you that car", etc. etc.), I said my goodbye to my latest guardian angel Jessica and off to S.F. I drove in a brand new and bright red Chevy Aveo.
My exhaustion had gotten the better of me and I started to feel nervous because I was really driving poorly and I don't drive poorly. I kept thinking about how I had so little time to make it to SF and would only be able to if I drove 80 the whole way and like a complete asshole. It was making the anxiety worse and I made the decision to oull over, drink some water, take some huge deep breaths and rest my heart and mind for 30 minutes. It helped and when I resumed driving, I was more alert and focused.
Throughout the drive, various people text messaged me - Al, my booking agent Margie, people who were concerned and sad about my car and my well-being. It helped to feel a little loved and fussed over, I'm not going to lie.
The weather got much worse and by the time I hit the East Bay, the rain and wind was pounding and whipping the shit out of my little rental car. Fellow drivers were driving like typical shitty California drivers but I was determined to get to the BOTH and my gig, no matter what.
I got to the club, grabbed my gear and walked up to spot Al standing outside, texting someone. That someone was me and when she looked up and saw me, she smiled her big, beautiful smile and gave me a big hug and kiss. I needed all of that and walked inside the packed, humid club feeling refreshed and ready to rock. my buddy Kepi was just inside the door and gave me a big hug. Everyone seemed relieved that I made it. I still couldn't believe I was there and not sitting in my broken-down car in Grapevine or Bakersfield.
The opening band had just finished playing and were taking their equipment off stage. I was on next and would have no time to gather my thoughts and get myself together for the show. Fuck it! I got my stuff set up, Kepi set up his minimal drum kit, the sound girl set up an extra mic for Al to sing into and before I knew it, I was up there playing and singing away to a warm, friendly and receptive Ted Leo audience. My clothes were soggy from the rain, the anxiety and the entire day and I felt disgusting and repulsive to look at. But I was having a great time playing and I didn't let all that get to me. There was no real point to it. Just ignore the despair and insecurity and petty assumptions and play with everything I still possessed.
In the end, that's all any of us can really do to be true, anyway.
The set went off well and after, I relaxed, talked with friends, including Mr. Mike Park and watched and listened to Ted rock another great set. He did a cover of Eddie And The Hot Rods' Do Anything You Wanna Do, one of my favorite songs ever, and it sounded even better than the original at that moment. People bought loads of merch from me and that helped because that meant I'd be able to pay for the car rental, the gas, the bridge tolls and the stuff I had to put on our one last credit card to make it down to So Cal in the first place.
The crowd walked out into the cold night sweat-drenched and with big smiles on their Bay Area mugs.
Al had driven her crowded little car down with Kepi and her dog Hank in tow. I suggested Kepi ride with me and she could follow us back to Sac. Kepi caught me up with what has been happening in his life lately - great East Coast solo gigs with David Johansen and Tommy Stinson, art and seeing Motorhead in SF - and I felt calm and much more sane.
I was happy to be getting back to Sacramento but I wouldn't need to drive 80 all the way up 80 to do it.
Goodnight for now, my fucked up but mostly wonderful life. I will wake up in a few hours and the reality will hit me that I don't have a car to get me around. It's going to suck in a big way, for a number of reasons but maybe it's a sign that I need to get my bike back out and get around on it for awhile. I could certainly use the exercise.
For now, it's time to sleep for a good long clip. I'll worry about everything else later.
