The HARTLUND uv AMURIKHANA tour

I love you all.

Spokane, contrary to popular opinion, is a really neat looking place.. Snowy mountains surrounding very cozy old buildings. Didn't have time to visit the locals though, so who knows. But it is true, eastern Washington is one big fucking dirt & shrub lot.

Put gas in Coeur D'Alene ID. Coeur D'Alene, contrary to popular opinion, is a pretty dull place. But it is true, the rest of the Idaho panhandle is stunning. At least those 70 miles anyway

Montana is just life affirmingly beeyootiful. I heart the northern Rockies. However, try not to stop in Butte MT... unless you want to see the true inspiration of South Park. Lots of shitkickers in backwards hats, Aikman jerseys, *ALWAYS crowded in groups of four or more* in the front of a huge dusty red pick up truck driving around looking for some pussy.

Amusing sign on the way: ANACONDA OPPORTUNITY -- NEXT EXIT (Anaconda MT and Opportunity MT respectively, but still... Anaconda Opportunity is my next band name)

I stop and stay in Bozeman MT. Small, desolate, but neat little town. I walk over to the Cat's Paw.. this huge open pit of poker machines, pool tables, bars, and more crusty Montana men and their wives all smokin', carrying guns and pool sticks, mopin' around... all mingling with the few college kids in town. I stuck out like the gayest little milquetoast. I played a few games of Jacks or Better and left quickly after that. Got home and had to sleep through some party animals visiting from Minnesota next door.. blasting pop and house music, with tons of screamy girls in and out the door at all hours.

DAY TWO (3/23) Get up, have a long chat with the guy at the front desk about Montana. I drive on.. things get flatter after Bozeman pass. Stop in Billings MT to put gas. Have weird exchange with gas attendant lady:
LADY: "You used a credit card to put gas, didn't you?"
ME : "Yeah, how did you know?"
LADY: "'cuz I could see that you had blue sideburns"
ME : ...... "Sure......... of course!"
Then I walked on down the hall...
Stop in Miles City MT. Neat little place. Drive on... at this point, Montana is just slightly curvy, flat, and covered in pure white. I never felt more like a York Peppermint Patty.

Get a speeding ticket around Glendive MT.. doing 87 in a 75mph zone. Ah fuck. Ticket's only $40 so that's good. Weird moment. Cop taps foot waiting for me to say something then turns to me and says "I probably didn't make myself clear.. but you have pay for the ticket now in cash...". I have $38. He's not gonna accept coins or give me a $2 break. So he basically escorts me to the nearest ATM/gas station 10 miles east, so I can pull out money to pay for the ticket. Whatever. Weird but whatever. It probably would have been more expensive in any other state... and I wasn't in the South, so I consider myself somewhat lucky. Just be nice to me, Washington state car insurance.

So to those of you planning on driving in Montana: BRING LOTS OF CASH MONEY FLOW IF YOU FEEL THE NEED FOR SPEED!

I reach the North Dakota border. North Dakota is like.... Mars. Ice patches, kinda reddish, desolate, fucking minimal... which kinda made it really interesting for me. The western part is underratedly beautiful... what with the Painted Canyon.. but it's all too brief.

I stop in Bismarck for gas.. I visit the capitol building. It's really the only building in the entire state. Getting gas on my way out, this REALLY CUTE teen female gas attendant comes out and starts chatting with me about my road trip... She was really sweet and neat and made me feel good after the bummer that was my speeding ticket. She tells me all the "crazy" things she does in North Dakota, like watch the sunset south of town, or do a road trip to the ice skating rink in Minneapolis. My heart jumped and sighed. Bismarck, believe or not, has a slight bohemian, punk, hippy element to it.. though you really have to look. Olympia seems like New York in comparison, don't get me wrong. But Bismarck, for a gas top, is the funky cold shiznits.

After hours and hours, I finally make it to Fargo, where I expected to stop and stay. So I look around and.. get this.... everything is booked. I can't get a place to stay... IN FUCKING FARGO, NORTH DAKOTA! THERE'S ONLY 30 HOTELS AND MOTELS AND THEY ARE ALL BOOKED! All this time, my Mp3CD player runs out of batteries, so I tune on the radio to the "80s dance party" station with, sure enough, one huge house-y montage of all 80s hits.. from Dexy's to Pet Shop Boys to ACDC to Bryan Adams.. all to a house beat. The "DJ" is this robotic sounding woman who calls herself "Connie Twelve Inch". I DON'T WANT TO KNOW!

By the way, Fargo ND is like Anaheim CA in a freezer, minus an amusement park.

I happened upon one hotel and figured out why it was so hard to find a place to stay.... it looked like it was the union of every high school and junior high prom from the entire state all in one night. Walking through an army of Valley/MTV looking teen girls all with Minnesotan accents made me *really* feel like I was on Mars. I finally find something in Moorhead, Minnesota.. just an exit away from Fargo, and I got one of the last rooms. Very nice. Aaaaah, Sleeeeep.

DAY THREE (3/24): I have to go back to Fargo to that hotel because I dropped my speeding ticket receipt there... they were very nice to contact me and let me know. At this point, I appreciate how nice and polite everyone has been to me thus far on the trip...especially now.. despite my Fargo frustrations.

So I drive on down to Minneapolis and St. Paul to meet up with Josh. We hang out and talk with his roomie Murph for a while. Then we go over to Mud Pie and munch down on Tofu Stroganoff and talk about everything from poker to Ned to game mechanics theory to Iowa to the U of M to Ned.. and sometimes about music...oh, and Ned too. Time kinda flew by, which was too bad... we had a blast chatting about stuff.. so I take Josh back to his house, and he let's me do some online stuff, then I bid him a farewell. Josh, you have a place to stay in Seattle if you ever decide to visit.

I stop to get gas in .... MENOMONIE, WI. I was hoping it was pronounced "MENNo MOANey", but it's actually pronounced "me- NOMINEE". I kept on saying the former to myself all the way down to Madison surroundings making myself laugh. Sad, I know.

After getting slightly lost due to inaccurate directions, I made it to a friend's house in DeForest WI... just outside Madison. Nice big, big house in a small little farmish town. I talk with Russell (friend) and his wife Lisa for hours and hours. My Wisconsin indoctrination was official when they pulled out the cheese and the CHEESE GUILLOTINE! Both are wonderful, wonderful people.

DAY FOUR SO FAR (3/25): Get up, make phone calls, chat a little with Lisa then make off to Madison. I'm currently in an internet cafe right now typing this.. and I'm on my way to Chicago tonight to see HOT SNAKES play at the Empty Bottle. And that is the story thus far.

The weather has been VERY KINED to me (knock on Office Depot desk material)... fucking cold, but very mild and dry and driving friendly. I'll slap anyone in Seattle who complains about how "cold" it is there from here on out.

On the way to Madison WI from Minneapolis MN is a casino called... (drum roll)... HO-CHUNK CASINO. You thought I was kidding? I fucking said... HO-CHUNK CASINO

(dry tone) Only in Montana would you equal blue hair with credit cards. Imgine what she would have done, if Brian had _actually_ pulled out his wallet.

Onward, for the indie "Easy Rider".....

By the time you get here (NYC), we'll seem normal. Drive carefully, a speeding ticket _starts_ at $65.

Also, do tell whether you still need a place to crash....

Someone find me a picture of him, so I can go find him at the Bottle tonight. I know he's provided pictures in the past, but I don't think I have enough free time to do a decent search.

Nitsuh, I guessed I missed you. Aah shit. The rest on Chicago below...

Right now, I'm at Stormy Records in lovely Dearborn, MI typing this. Many hugs and thanks to the lovely Windy Weber for letting me look like a record store employee for half an hour. :)

DAY FOUR .. THE REST (3/25) : I walk around downtown Madison, more specifically State st, where I buy a record at a store called B-side, and some dill cheese curds at a cheese store. The Capitol building is really neat looking. The patron saint of cheese statue on top is quite authoritative looking.

Oh, I discovered my favorite new beer thanks to Russell from the day before...SPOTTED COW...made in Wisconsin. Try it. Very light but very beerish and delicious. Not too bitter. Not too dilute. Just right and punchy.

The drive thru Milwaukee was pretty unspectacular and I developed a mild case of eye strain.. so I had to pull over at a gas station and take a catnap. Otherwise on to Chicago...

I drive around downtown for a bit in the middle of rush hour traffic. Really scary near accident moments, but I was awed by the buildings. Especially the Chicago Board of Trade building... AWWWWW!

I mosey around the town until I finally find the Empty Bottle,so I walk over and eat at this place next door called BITE or something like that... which looks like it's connected somehow. I sit alone waiting for my food,until a lot of folks just start sitting around me.. they all look like they have something to do with the Hot Snakes show about to happen. Initially, they all ignore me...

A while after everyone's either gotten their food or ordered, someone breaks the ice and I start chatting with three of those folks. We all introduce each other...I tell 'em about my road trip thing, and I ask them "so what do you guys do?"

Two of them, Nathan and Sammy, are in one of the opening bands called the Selby Tigers. They're from St.Paul... and the other guy named Doug mentioned he plays in a band called Tortoise. I've heard of both those bands, so I sorta jumped back a bit when they told me this. Anyway, yeah Nathan and Sammy and Doug are really nice folk. It's still weird to me how I somehow ended up in the middle of this Thrill Jockey scene conversation. But anyway...

The show was cool.Selby Tigers rocked. They kinda remind me of the PeeChees. Atombombpocketknife were cool. They kinda remind me of Calvin Krime. Hot Snakes were great, but they seemed really really tired.. literally, that is. Short set too.

The neighborhood around the Empty Bottle is weird. You just cannot tell anything exists on those blocks unless you force yourself inside each shop door by door. In fact, a lot of Chicago seemed like that to me. Surely it's the time of year weatherwise.. but the contrast between the flambouyantly arty and huge downtown and the camouflaged dirty gray remainders of the city was pretty daunting to me.

If there are so many tolls everywhere in Illinois, how come the road quality still sucks? I stay at a friend's house in SW chicago that night... very cool guy named Robert who came with to the Hot Snakes show... along with his wife and two teen daughters.

DAY FIVE SO FAR: I wake up early and have to battle rush hour traffic and snow to make it to Dearborn..and I finally do. I meet up with Nicole at Stormy.. and say hi to Windy and all that good stuff. Unfortunately,Nicole only had a 1/2 hour, but we at least had most of a meal together and catch up with each other.. yay! Nicole,I apologize if I seemed tired and weird.

And now I'm still at Stormy.. off to Toronto to get stripped search by the goddamn canuck custom officers... aaaww yeah!

Why apologize for your normal state of mind?

DAY FIVE -- THE REST: Well, it's really snowing like fuck on my way out of Dearborn... in fact so much that I completely miss Detroit, even though I drive right through it. I couldn't see a goddamn thing until I was actually on the bridge over to Windsor, Ontario. And all I could see was the bridge. Oh well. So no comment on Detroit, it wouldn't be fair.

Customs was actually quicker here than my last jaunt over to Victoria from Seattle.. but it was more intimidating. But anyway, I'm off to Toronto.. I'm in... yay

And boy what a fucked up drive... probably the first moment I thought "why the hell am i doing this?". 401 is this poorly lit torture zone for small cars in snowy banks. These trucks just zoom right past you, spraying you with snow, blocking your view, and giving you a nasty gust of head wind. I happen upon a really nasty accident which happened on the other side of the road... three full trucks just plunged into the middle ravine from icy roads. That scares everyone on my side for about, oh, 5 minutes.. then the trucks start zoomin' again...

I stop at a truck stop in London, Ontario.. pretty much the cultural, aesthetic opposite of London, England, in case you were wondering. Maybe it's because I was off the road for a little, but this little moment makes me happy... seeing an audience of Canuck truckers watching the Jackie Chan movie in the Flying J Movie Lounge. Also, there's an automated voice which announced when showers for truckers are free... but the great thing is.. even the speech synthesized woman has a bonnet wearin', gum chewin', hip swingin', kiss-ma-grits twang to it...
"SHOWER... NUMBER... 4... 5... 0.... 7.... IS NOW... FREE"

I take care of a lot of phone calls, microwave some spaghetti I brought along for the trip, eat, then do the fucked up drive up north again. (Thanks, Dan, for calling me in the middle of that and somehow keeping me sane) At one point, two snowplowers take up both lanes side by side doing their business, blocking up traffic for about 40 km. And what is it with Ontario drivers? Doing 120 kmph in icy conditions. The fuck?

I eventually make it to Toronto after what seemed like an endless drive, and stay at my cousin's place in Etobicoke... We quickly drive thru downtown Toronto at 3am or so... WOW! WOW! WOW!

DAY SIX SO FAR: I get up, catch up with my cousin on family matters and what not, and we bid farewell. I drive over to downtown Toronto and park across from Eaton's. Tons of colorful shops (food, records, porn, you know the basics) of every variety all crammed into block after block after block. It's the first day of non-freezing weather since I left. The sun's out. It all feels really fucking nice. I absolutely HEART this town. I'm currently doing the net thing here in Toronto, and soon will be taking off for Montreal in a bit...

Brian, I couldn't give you directions to Roswell off the top of my head past "head west on I20." I think it would be a couple of hours quicker from Dallas than Austin but then Dallas is a couple of hours north of Austin so I guess it all evens out. Austin is fun. You'll probably want to stay there.

Whenever people ask me why I hate winter, I think I'll refer to situations like this.

And I just wanted to apologize to Brian for not giving him directions. I did because I'm really incompetent and terrible when it comes to directions, and just didn't want to get him all frustrated and lost.

DAY SIX -- THE REST (3/28): Still in Toronto and about to take off. Final thoughts? Toronto is GREAT! There are more internet cafes in this town than anything else (24 hours too). Drivers are quite intimidating here. I get called a "bitch" and honked out by a female driver for not crossing a 4-way stop intersecton fast enough... though everyone is super friendly to me as a pedestrian. I make it on my way out and have a much safer and more scenic drive out of Toronto on my way to Montreal.

I make it to Quebec -- just a few kilometers east of Cornwall where I gas up -- later that evening. Though it's hard to actually notice the provincial line when you cross it, it never takes you long to figure out after you cross it, as all the highway signs are in French. My CD player batteries run out around now, so I flip around on the radio and find a French-Canadian dance party pop radio station. I can't tell if I'm hearing Sarah McLachlan or just someone who's influenced by her being interviewed then singing a really tired take on "Knocking On Heaven's door". I'm feeling a bit restless, as this is my first time in Quebec, and I'm not sure how I'll be treated as an English-only speaking entity. Anyway, I arrive in Montreal, after what seemed like an endless run of sticks, street lamps, and suburbs.

so I thought Ontario drivers were nuts? heh heh, at least they know what a lane is. Driving around downtown Montreal is an exercise in stress management. I make it into a Holiday Inn in downtown, and wonder why I was so impatient to splurge on a slighty posh hotel room in downtown instead of a very cheap outskirts motel. Thankfully, once I walk down to Saint-Catherine street, I realize I made a wise choice. YES! Just blocks and blocks and blocks of really bright colorful neon-ed "SEXE" shoppes, restaurants, clothing stores,... nothing I take too much part in, but Saint-catherine makes for an excellent street to just walk around and do lots of people watching... It makes complete sense that this is where VICE Magazine is based.

The 50% French/50% English juxtaposition is fascinating to me... and I'm also thankful that the retail community in downtown is very friendly to English speakers, as long as they don't pretend to know French. Ahead of me at some restaurant is some rich business suited guy who tries to "impress" his buddies by speaking Travel Guide French to the guy seating patrons. the guy pauses are starts speaking English back instead.

It must suck to be a bum in Montreal. For three reasons:

• fucking cold
• there's only a 50/50 chance of asking for change in the right language
• if successful, then there's a 50/50 chance of asking someone who'll pretend to only know the other language when asked

WOW! the Vermont/New Hampshire drive is the most scenic drive I've had since Montana. Lots of pleasent hills, snow patches, and quaint farms. I stop in Lebanon, NH to fuel up and eat up.. this town is the most west coast feeling town i've encountered since i left. I always hear about how politically opposed Vermont and New Hampshire are to each other, yet the two states simply gel into each other at the state line without any noticeable difference or interest. I do get a taste of the local bakery sensation called a WHOOPIE PIE!

The drive into Boston takes a lot less time than I expect. I meet up with friend Donny later that evening once he gives me the most interminibly yet thankfully detailed, abstract directions possible... thanks to Boston ditching any grid pattern scheme, or putting street names on the street lights. I arrive in Cambridge, Mass, and immediately meet up with friends at the Middle East. This is the first time I get a "I've MADE IT!" moment... and the drivers around here, while aggressive, are much tamer than in Ontario and Quebec, so for that i'm thankful. We eventually make it back and I crash at Donny's place.

DAY EIGHT (3/30): This is probably the first time I have the opportunity to sleep in since I left for the road. I find out all at once that not only does every net channel seem down, but the NYC meetup plans are completely falling apart... (apologies to those of you who tried to calm me down in a moment of momentary panic.. heh heh). Things seem better once I call a few people, and I hear back from Mike D. and Nich. I'm take the T red line from Cambridge to downtown Boston to walk around a bit. I finally have a taste of REAL Boston bakes beans.. not those chewy, stale contraptions I ate from precarious supermarket vending machines as a kid. makes great snacking while watching an intense catholic envangelist from Trinidad give the Park St. kids a hard time.

You know, all negative Boston comments aside, I really like this town. Sure people have to gratitiously insult fellow drivers, but outside that, people are generally very forward and friendly. Then again, today is the first nice weather day in town in a while apparently....

Later at night, there's a meetup at this bar called The People's Republic... which is where I FINALLY get to meet Dan Perry. Very, very fine fellow. Dan, Donny, irish Brian, Katie (Donny's g/f), and Steve (katie's coworker) and myself all hit it off for quite a while. Donny, Dan, and I talk for even longer, and much fun is had. After a while, Dan and I chat... and well, let's just say we have encounters with some weird people at the bar. There's super tall Hey Jude guy... and the ... and THEN... there's Grinning Waving Fist guy. I'll let Dan describe him.

Now watching MST at Donny's place with friends Irish Brian, and sarah... enjoying coffee and bagels. Off to NYC later day...

But yes, I finally met Dan. If I lived here, we'd easily be best friends. And the more turgent answer to the turgent question.... Dan and Ned would hit it off just fine... but they are not twins. :)

Shaking Fist Guy was utterly surreal. Brian and I are chatting about something, probably about how painfully shy we were before discovering Usenet, while this guy sitting at the bar in front of us is looking at us and grinning like a madman. I see him out of the corner of my eye, but don't pay very much attention as I'm really enjoying the conversation. Suddenly, my view of Brian (who, keep in mind, is about a foot away from me) is obscured by a shaking fist. I turn to look at the guy at the bar, whose simple grin has stretched Joker-like across his face and is staring cross-eyed at us like a jovial wolverine who has stumbled across a lame rabbit. My first response is to say, "Um, hi there!" while Brian begins to mutter, "Oh my God, I have to move over here before I LOSE IT..." We rotate our position away from the grinning crazy man and completely lose our shit in hysterical laughter.

There was also the guy who gave me an inadvertant back massage and then thought Brian was going to rip his head off. That was also hilarious.

it ain't funny yo. I murder any bitch who touch my DAN

Sara and I hit it off very very well in the car. She likes to use the word "poke" as a euphemism for... well... yeah, that. And according to her, Boston girls absolutely despise Connecticut girls, and that the former call the latter "Connecticunts". All this and more made my heart jump.

After several delays, traffic, and really weird "UTZ" potato chips bought from a trashy gas stop in Connecticut, we arrive in NYC at dark trying to find fellow Trevor's place in Williamsburg/Brooklyn. He has his very shy friend Alex there with him. My first impression of Trevor was someone who knew exactly where he was, and made sure nothing fucked would happen to us, which was very comforting. (I'll save a special paragraph for Trevor below.) We walk around Williamsburg, grab some rather excellent pizza, and walk back. We pay for a car ride over. So we all end up at a S. Manhattan bar called No. Moore (I think?), Sara and I pass out... Alex takes off elsewhere. Trevor carries us back (figurately, natch... though his size and strength could have easily made it possible literally as well) home.

DAY NINE: Trevor, Sara, and I wake up, subway over to Manhattan midtown and walk around for a little... we finally get over to Ghenet, the main meeting spot for the NYC get together. Michael Daddino arrives. And Nichole shows up shortly after that. We must have seemed like a really odd and interesting bunch to outsiders, but we have a lot of fun talking about a variety of things involving our backgrounds. Sara takes off to try to find a ride back to Cambridge. But the rest of us continue to walk around the villages and Central park for another hour afterwards, hitting up record stores along the way, and chatting away quite loudly... heh heh

Michael is indeed very animated, very witty, and very friendly -- someone who I could easily talk intensely with for hours and hours without realizing the time passing. He's the only ILX specific guy who I met who I never met previously, and I'm glad I finally did. Mike, I have to say (with all respect and kind words to those who were not as fortunate, of course) I'm super glad you were late to work one September 11th. Thanks for coming out on my account.

I'm very appreciative to Nich who came out, too. (Her review of today is spot on.) She was reassuring me the previous two weeks that NYC would be alright. And she was right. Extra hugs and kisses for you, Nich. Thanks for coming out, and I'm sure you'll enjoy London in the near future. I wish you the best with the move.

Now, of course, I admit I was initially very bummed that I would never get to meet the other 90% of the NYC ILX bunch, due to last minute weirdness, Easter, or both... which prompted me to call up Trevor (via another net forum) and contact him... which is how we even met in the first place. And I can say that was easily for the best after all. Trevor is a hero. It's hard to articulate to those who weren't lucky enough to meet him, but the guy just exudes warmth and confidence, and deserves a hero's welcome if he ever comes to your town.

So after more traffic, really fucking expensive tolls, extra end-of- Easter traffic, downpouring rain, getting lost in downtown Philly (though I get a godly view straight up of the City Hall/William Penn clocktower at night in the rain), I finally arrive at friends Ted & Michelle's place (known via the same net forum as Trevor).

DAY TEN: Ted, Michelle, and I walk around the South St. area of Philly (on what's now the most beautiful day of the trip so far) and walk around the very colorful, brick heavy neighborhoods. We munch at this really good vegan Chinese place called Singapore. And sniff inside the Philly record exchange and Spaceboy records. Let it be said that BIG BROTHER is slightly less effective than the Philadelphia Parking Enforcement. Let the parking meter run out for another three minutes, you get a parking ticket. Leave your car in 2- hour parking for 2 hours and 4 minutes, you get a ticket. "LAUGH, I NEARLY PAID THEM!"

Anyway, Ted & Michelle deserve several high props for working very hard to make it a pleasant stay for me, and we all probably have the most intense discussion about things ranging from politics to music, on the trip thus far. Yay! Now off to Richmond...

Big Bummer. Because of a really bad traffic accident south of Philly (making the freeway much like a parking lot for a long time... THANK YOU DAVID BOWIE MP3 CD FOR SAVING ME), I get major delays on my way down... but I finally make it on down to Richmond, aside from a sidetrack over to see the White House and the Monument in DC, right after dusk. (And to FINALLY see cars with DC license plates.. not something I can see everyday)

Oh, and the South official starts in Delaware... Waffle House spotting, you see.

Arrg... poor Mark R. can't meet because I'm late, and he has to wake up early due to lack of sleep before. Ah well. We both apologize to each other, and promise to make something work next time. I'm currently at my friend Michael's work place near the VCU section of Richmond sending this out right now. We will soon go to bed. (Michael is best friends with my Seattle best friend Heather, who used to live in Richmond)...

There's probably more funny stuff I forgot to mention, but I'll catch up later. Extra x's and o's to the NYC bunch that showed up. And I'll say it yet again.. Trevor is the man.

Alright, I can only figure that someone snuffed Brian in a fit of pique.

To this I say: watch yer back....

Brian, I was glad we could work it out....and bring along blankets when you're ready to crash in London-town.

DAY ELEVEN: I wonder around Carytown in Richmond VA, which is the college drag area. Meet up with my best friend Heather's "wife" Angela and we eat Indian food and record shop a little at Plan 9, which is probably my favorite east coast record store to date... especially the "crypt" area. It's the first noticeably warm day on my trip so far. All this and many more feelings that I realize I indeed am in the south. I soon take off in the afternoon and make my way into North Carolina.

This is the first of what continues to be extreme green days on the road so far. (Spring finally?)... I make it down to Durham right around dusk, expecting to see something, but all the trees on the interstate seem to obscure any sign of civilization... I follow the signs to Chapel Hill and get lost for a little before I make it to the main drag called Franklin St. Nice little college town area, but nothing much at all after that. I eat at Pepper's Pizza, which seems to be the only place in town run by people who actually give a damn to make the place interesting. I try to check in the net via a Kinko's there, but the guy working gives that strict, condescending tone to me as I begin and end my session. He takes forever to get to processing my logout session, so I just walk out. It was only a few bucks anyway. And I know I'll never walk into that place again.

I walk around for a few before I hit up which I guess is "the" record store in town called, strangely enough, "CD Alley".. even though they mostly carry vinyl. It's getting to be around 10pm, and I'm bushed, so I try to find a market or drugstore with allergy medication (beautiful green landscapes = sniffly, congested me).. but it turns out there's only ONE STORE IN CHAPEL HILL THAT'S OPEN AFTER 10pm. After asking a series of people, all giving me conflicting directions, to this one supermarket called Harris Teeter(?), I finally find it, only to find out they don't carry the particular brand of bronchial/allerge medicine I use... so I'm forced to buy a drowsy counterpart.

Outside Franklin St., Chapel Hill looks a lot like south Orange County, CA.

I can't even find a room in Chapel Hill, despite the complete lack of signs of human life or civilization in the huge, sprawling, empty strip malls just outside campus. The only one I could find was a double for $80... bullfuckingshit. So I finally get directions from a guy to an area of cheap motels in Durham, which is just miles north. I get there.. and settle down. Today is probably one of the most least effective and interesting days on my trip thus far.

More on the subsequent days very soon.

I try to check the IN-TAR-WEB at another Kinko's, this time in Charlotte, but the machine crashes after I tried typing in my logs here, so I offer to pay the guy the $1.80 I owed before the crash, and he says "Never mind, it's free". There's gotta be a moral here that connects my two free Kinko's sessions the past two days, but I don't know what it is.

Charlotte has a few surprisingly stunning and tall downtown buildings, three of which look like Shogun warrior buildings. I'm impressed.

I arrive in Athens, GA where I meet up with Ethan... Yes, Ethan.. THEE MOST NOTORIOUS MAN ON ILX. For being THEE MOST NOTORIOUS MAN ON ILX, he's very energetic and friendly, and he briskly shows me around downtown Athens, which is just a few walking blocks away from his appt. complex. I love this place! Just four square blocks of stuff, and there's already three excellent record stores, several great bars, and several great places to eat. We briefly walk into a great underground comix/mutated toy store, but unfortunately it had just closed before I had a chance to look further. Ethan and I talk about ILX stuff and munch down on good cheap pizza type things... He offers me a couch to crash on, and I go ahead to meet up with another friend Vanessa at a nearby bar... whereas I promise I'd bring back some alky goodies for Ethan. (Was it Malibu Rum I brought back?).

I stop by the main record store again called Low Yo Yo, where I overhear members of the band Japancakes realizing that they just got majorly screwed over by Darla.

I meet up with Vanessa and we chat for a little, but unfortunately I quickly start losing it, and we part sooner than I wanted. She's absolutely aces. I stumble back to Ethan's place early and sleep in my car before he gets back from hangin' with his pawty girls, after which I stumble back into Ethan's place where I quickly crash on the couch, though he offers me a chance to check e-mail. Fuck, I was tired.

Anyway, many thanks to you Ethan for hanging with me and letting me crash at your place. It's a fucking shame the art community in Athens won't give you a chance to exhibit your work. They'll pay. They'll pay. They'll eat hay. (At this point, if there's anything we talked about that I SHOULD have mentioned by now, I totally apologize for furgettin' it). I'll fucking break Stipe's legs if I have to!

No Stipe or Bubba Sparxx sitings unfortunately... but I should notify Ethan well in advance next time so he can work his shmoozing skillz. Athens GA is a great fucking tiny town. I'd hope lots of folks would swing by a give Athens a visit.

At this point, I'd like to mention that no one ever talks about how absolutely shitty Southern traffic is. Sure, LA traffic, Northwest traffic, NYC traffic, blah blah blah. Southern traffic is a scary scary thing. Lights that don't turn green under 10 minutes. Lots and lots of cars stalled, waiting to crawl a few feet before hitting the same red again. AND THEY TAKE IT! PRISON, NOT PRINCETON! AAAAAARRRRGG AAGGG!

South of Montgomery, I go from pleasent green fields to ye ol' Bayoo... things start lookin' really cool when the freeway starts elevating over pillars on top of swamps. I make it to Mobile, look around, find nothing really exciting, then head over to New Orleans LA. Very beautiful city from a distance, but merely a beautiful shithole from up close. If I was loaded, I'd certainly have grabbed a hotel in the French quarter, but I just didn't feel very invited to this city. So I drove on Canal and Bourbon streets, then made my way several miles west and stayed at a budget inn in Gonzalez, LA.

Apparently, the invites implode round Mardi-Gras, when The French Quarter is streaming with parties and swishy people....

Joy to know he arrived in one piece. Cheers, Ned. Now, to hope that OC's endless party atmosphere doesn't finally do him in....

So have the neighbors forgiven you, yet? The noise level must have given the lil old ladies a coronary....

Then, there were the morning-after hangovers, the mystery underwear hanging in the window, as well as the short-term memory loss.....

Ah well, what's a party without 5-0 gracing your door?

This is worse than the story about the guy in the cave.

I had a good time reading your travelogue. I was a bit miffed that it ended so abruptly, but I'm over it now.

Flying J's rule. Too bad that the shower announcements weren't in French, too.

(Yes, I know that I've just set up a bad French-don't-take-showers remark. I've made my choice.)