Day Eight - The P&H, Memphis, TN. When we made it to Memphis and had time to kill, we thought it would be a good idea to at least drive by Graceland. They charge something like $30 a head to go in, so we weren't doing that, as poor as most of us are at this point. As we drove through the neighborhood, our attention was drawn to the circus that's grown up around it. There's the "Heartbreak Hotel;" there's the tour one can take of the King's airplanes. There's the tourists. We wondered "Where's the house?" Then we turned around to head to our night's abode and found it: directly on the other side of the street. I hope this kind of collective lack of attention never results in a wreck. We met our friend Rob at his new house and hardly recognized him. His chest-long beard was gone. "Rob?" I said. "Yep, it's me," he replied. He's the one who introduced us to the P&H last year, which at the time was his neighborhood hangout. They serve cheap beer and cheap food (P&H stands for poor and hungry) and they have a stage and a dedicated group of regulars. Jefferson Fox opened, and he was amazing: great guitar player and performer. I can't wait to put on his record so I can hear the lyrics. Closing the night was Slowclaw, who were super tight and reminded me of a DC band called Q And Not U. Sandwiched in between was us. The show was rockin'. Some places just seem to make us sound louder.
Day Nine - Landry's, Ft. Smith, AR. All the waitresses were wearing our tshirts. They love us at Landry's, and we love them. Loaded in and ate some of their tasty Cajun food. We were a bit late hitting the stage as we have to run our own sound there, but I think everything came off well. After the dinner crowd
cleared, we played a set for the bar staff, including a raw version of a new song we've been working on. It was a hit. Found a Motel 6, did some laundry, and crashed.
Day Ten - Overtime Sports Bar, Shreveport, LA. It turns out Louisiana is a sauna, and the AC at the bar was broken. We spent most of the night dripping. Luckily, part of what was supposed to be a four hour show was chopped off so they could show UFC fights. Cool! We got to watch Anderson Silva kick Forrest Griffin's ass in a about two minutes. Silva's the master. The two hours we played were fun but miserable. The side of my bass was slippery with sweat after the first tune. We came off stage dehydrated and edgy. It was a surprise when Jess asked us why we didn't have that much energy all the time. Energy? Really? Awesome. The last long bar show of the trip is now out of the way, thank the gods. Tonight: Notsuoh in Houston.
- Troy
Ps - I want to sleep, too. -t.
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