New York, Asheville, and Atlanta
Well, we did it! We played out, up and down, all in one long weekend, and nobody has gotten fired....yet :)
New York:
It's a good thing to leave K St. on an early Thursday morning before the sharks get to work, to then turn around 4.5 hours later, the great handed off to Manhatten with a banjo on your back. L train immediately to Brooklyn. Williamsburg. First time for this woman in Williamsburg, but I have to say, living in and around the U St./ Columbia Heights area for the past two years after four years in Boulder made for a smooth adjustment. It felt familiar and breezy.
I meandered in and out of shops, suppressing thoughts of exactly how late JR and the gents were going to be... did they bring enough toll money, had they left DC in time...was it true that Shareef was going horse back riding in the Adirondacks that very afternoon!?!
But alas, they were all early, save our cowboy. And Pete's was absolutely lovely! Such a charming venue full of friendly, hip bartenders and neighborhoodies. Local brew: Brooklyn....something. It was a bit bitter for this one, but Jason and Kyle drank it down.
Great friends from near and far in attendence. The venue, an old timey train carousel with a stage and an arch of circus bulbs framing us, was a perfect introduction to our friends in New York. Intimate, hip.
Back to DC to wake up and drive to the Mountains: After a stop at the Pink Cadillac off 81 in Virginia...south...somewhere... we rolled down NC 26 just as the sun was setting over the mountains north of Asheville. Once in Asheville, Kyle and I strolled the streets, watching book readings from Mark Childress's new book One Mississippi (he's the author of Crazy in Alabama so it was a treat for me to see him in person).... Kyle, being a little crazy himelf, couldn't tell the differece. Then, yet another Local Brew tasting at Jack in the Woods and lots of couple watching at the bar. The first date going on to my left ended abruptly when the becoming woman "had to go let the dogs out!" Bummer.
After enough meandering, we drove back to Highlands, NC where we watched a kyle pick-sci-fi flick about clones with Scarlet Johannson. The rest of the weekend was spent lounging on the front porch at the mountain house reading and writing....a mainstay since I was 13 years old with my best friend Maite. Thank you grandma Meme Rosemont for letting us use the house!
That night we played at the Mellow Mushroom in downtown Asheville, drank alot of the Pisgah brew (once again I preferred 'the blonde'), and heard every story that ever existed about JR's childhood, thanks to his half cousin Sean Rosemont who was in attendence for the evening and helped set us up in Asheville to begin with. Later in the evening JR and his muscles would go on to arm-wrestle Sean and a strange, yet lovable, man named Ray-Ray. I signed him up for the latter. I let you guess who won.
60 mountain miles later, deep into the Nantahala National Forest past many dirty dirt roads ...the Rosemonts snored, in astounding gospel-like harmony...Ivy, of course, hitting the high notes.
4 Eggs Benedicts(no canadian ham pahlease), and a sassy waitress later, we were headed down the mountain, past Clayton, and back onto I-85 into the old stomping grounds of Hotlanta feeding Ivy leftover bacon. Rediculously steep load-in at Smith's Olde Bar, but great venue...curtains across the stage, our private backstage room, and lots of nervous energy for my homecoming show. 4 eighty year old women arrived first at this hip midtown venue in Atlanta, explaining to Hannah Rosemont that "Niomi had brought them". At which point Hannah placed them at a table in the front where they proceeded to video tape the stage for the next 4 hours.
So, four elderly woman and Hannah Rosemont enjoyed one heck of a show last monday evening, and us rosemonts played our little hearts out. It should be noted as well, that the backstage middle room at Smith's Olde Bar has been fortunate to house, for at least 2 hours, one of this country's finest poets....a man, I'm sure, who, with all creative wit and english complexities, was able to fathom a way to place the word "poo" into every band that has graced the Billboard's top 20, since 1968, AND, for the betterment of mankind, write it on this very wall with a black magic marker. Oh Atlanta! I do hear you calling.
Cars revved up to roll out by the next morning. I spied 6 things green (trees, grass not included), while Kyle only 4...though he did catch a South Dakota liscense plate. I couldn't get past the mason dixon. Whattayado?
Song of the Day:
Aretha Franklin's Givin Him Something He can Feel
to let him know...... and Think but only the old school version, not the Blue Brothers one.
New York:
It's a good thing to leave K St. on an early Thursday morning before the sharks get to work, to then turn around 4.5 hours later, the great handed off to Manhatten with a banjo on your back. L train immediately to Brooklyn. Williamsburg. First time for this woman in Williamsburg, but I have to say, living in and around the U St./ Columbia Heights area for the past two years after four years in Boulder made for a smooth adjustment. It felt familiar and breezy.
I meandered in and out of shops, suppressing thoughts of exactly how late JR and the gents were going to be... did they bring enough toll money, had they left DC in time...was it true that Shareef was going horse back riding in the Adirondacks that very afternoon!?!
But alas, they were all early, save our cowboy. And Pete's was absolutely lovely! Such a charming venue full of friendly, hip bartenders and neighborhoodies. Local brew: Brooklyn....something. It was a bit bitter for this one, but Jason and Kyle drank it down.
Great friends from near and far in attendence. The venue, an old timey train carousel with a stage and an arch of circus bulbs framing us, was a perfect introduction to our friends in New York. Intimate, hip.
Back to DC to wake up and drive to the Mountains: After a stop at the Pink Cadillac off 81 in Virginia...south...somewhere... we rolled down NC 26 just as the sun was setting over the mountains north of Asheville. Once in Asheville, Kyle and I strolled the streets, watching book readings from Mark Childress's new book One Mississippi (he's the author of Crazy in Alabama so it was a treat for me to see him in person).... Kyle, being a little crazy himelf, couldn't tell the differece. Then, yet another Local Brew tasting at Jack in the Woods and lots of couple watching at the bar. The first date going on to my left ended abruptly when the becoming woman "had to go let the dogs out!" Bummer.
After enough meandering, we drove back to Highlands, NC where we watched a kyle pick-sci-fi flick about clones with Scarlet Johannson. The rest of the weekend was spent lounging on the front porch at the mountain house reading and writing....a mainstay since I was 13 years old with my best friend Maite. Thank you grandma Meme Rosemont for letting us use the house!
That night we played at the Mellow Mushroom in downtown Asheville, drank alot of the Pisgah brew (once again I preferred 'the blonde'), and heard every story that ever existed about JR's childhood, thanks to his half cousin Sean Rosemont who was in attendence for the evening and helped set us up in Asheville to begin with. Later in the evening JR and his muscles would go on to arm-wrestle Sean and a strange, yet lovable, man named Ray-Ray. I signed him up for the latter. I let you guess who won.
60 mountain miles later, deep into the Nantahala National Forest past many dirty dirt roads ...the Rosemonts snored, in astounding gospel-like harmony...Ivy, of course, hitting the high notes.
4 Eggs Benedicts(no canadian ham pahlease), and a sassy waitress later, we were headed down the mountain, past Clayton, and back onto I-85 into the old stomping grounds of Hotlanta feeding Ivy leftover bacon. Rediculously steep load-in at Smith's Olde Bar, but great venue...curtains across the stage, our private backstage room, and lots of nervous energy for my homecoming show. 4 eighty year old women arrived first at this hip midtown venue in Atlanta, explaining to Hannah Rosemont that "Niomi had brought them". At which point Hannah placed them at a table in the front where they proceeded to video tape the stage for the next 4 hours.
So, four elderly woman and Hannah Rosemont enjoyed one heck of a show last monday evening, and us rosemonts played our little hearts out. It should be noted as well, that the backstage middle room at Smith's Olde Bar has been fortunate to house, for at least 2 hours, one of this country's finest poets....a man, I'm sure, who, with all creative wit and english complexities, was able to fathom a way to place the word "poo" into every band that has graced the Billboard's top 20, since 1968, AND, for the betterment of mankind, write it on this very wall with a black magic marker. Oh Atlanta! I do hear you calling.
Cars revved up to roll out by the next morning. I spied 6 things green (trees, grass not included), while Kyle only 4...though he did catch a South Dakota liscense plate. I couldn't get past the mason dixon. Whattayado?
Song of the Day:
Aretha Franklin's Givin Him Something He can Feel
to let him know...... and Think but only the old school version, not the Blue Brothers one.
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