05-17-1997
Tallahassee,
 
Thank goodness this bar has a computer, I was going to lose my mind trying to remember all this shit. Not only that, I left my fucking journal in Charleston, so all the crap I wrote down is gone until God knows when. I can remember some of it, though --

The drive today was beautiful. Straight through the middle of georgia on highway 84 -- I looked & looked but saw no plantations. I saw a million swamps, though, and snowy egrets, & lots of Spanish Moss hanging over the roads, and a massive pecan orchard, and oh so many trailer parks, with so many trailers...

Okay, let me go back to Baltimore, Bohager's, 5-14-97. I rode on the Pavement bus to Raleigh on this night. But before we could even leave the fucking club in Baltimore, Steven M. was kidnapped by Pat Buchanan's niece! Really! She had him halfway to Raleigh before he finally leapt from her Volvo at a stoplight & hitch-hiked back to Bohagerís. By the time he made it to the bus, his bandmates were furious beer-soaked madmen, and as fists, bottles & Scrabble-boards started flying, I made my way to the cramped, but quiet, luggage compartment, where I slept ëtil morning.

I should say, though, that Pavement was magnificent in Baltimore: loose & funny & fucking around. They ended with "What Goes On," the Velvet Underground song. It was a fine time. The fact that it took place in a club with all the character of a Hooters in a strip mall was all the more impressive.

Steven M & I went for a bike ride into downtown Raleigh the next morning. It was a gorgeous day for a ride but the city of Raleigh has thought as much about bicycles as it has about taxing tobacco, & we spent all morning riding on the soft shoulders of freeway onramps, trying to get downtown & see if there was any appeal to such an athletically frustrating town.... Downtown was sort of drab, I'm afraid. I had a fantastic sandwich, though; and an old fella with cataracts came up to say hi: "hey, Arnold." I said, Arnold? He said, "shit, you look just like Arnold: same hair, same build. Shit. You lucky you ain't Arnold, though. That Arnold, he's fucked up." He asked for some money & I gave it to him, counting my blessings.

See, I've given myself too much to remember. That's why this is so fucking boring. If you can just hang on for another minute, I'll have some good things to say....

Shit I'll just finish up with Charleston -- the Music Farm. We were loose as hell, someone requested "Wild In My Day," which we haven't played in a year, & we totally blew it, stopping as soon as Tim got to the verse & realized he knew none of the lyrics. We ended with "It's Too Bad," a new song not on Developer, & blew that, too. It was a gas though. The kids were nuts -- there was a girl napping onstage right beside Tim for the first two songs, & all the loudmouths just let fly. It was fun. I started drinking as much as I possibly could, seeing as it was a special occasion, & oh boy I did just fine. I was yelling at everyone, slamming Wild Turkey with Bob & Steven, cheering all the Pavements on before their show because I just KNEW it was going to be a great one, and by God, so it was. They were tremendous & loose, & maybe even drunk, & horsing around & screaming & jumping & oh it was just a hoot. They closed with "Killing Moon," the Echo & the Bunnymen song, which they also played in NYC. I think their ability to convey a mood is remarkable. I think they could back Sade and pull it off.

Promptly after Pavement left the stage, the disco party started -- the dj even played Kung Fu Fighting. It was a little rough, but still I was yelling at every attractive woman in the place, "I know Pavement! Do you want to fuck me?" but of course at that point all the Pavement fans had left, and all the high-hair gals could care less. But I danced with Craig and Adam and another fellow named Johnathon (he & I bonded during Pavement, he's a big SKWM fan & we jumped around like salmon behind the soundboard during the Pavement show) and a crowd of gals who did not have high hair & whom Vicky accused me of rubbing up against indiscriminately, which was not true, any rubbing I did was expected. I was, however, quite drunk. So drunk that I missed the photo-session after the show, so drunk I left my journal & address book at the club, & even so drunk that I decided I wasn't fit to drive! For me, that's pretty fucking drunk.

Florida is a wierd state; but I used to be very close to a certain woman here, and today, driving into town with my pals, we had the windows down, & the air was warm & moist, & there was a pleasant, swampy odor in the air, & it took me back a couple years and I tell you I got a little weepy. I like the air here.

I'm going to miss being around Pavement, & playing such huge shows, but I'm looking forward to being back in the real world, so to speak; and I'm also looking forward to being back in the fucking spotlight. I love the spotlight.

Boy is that ever enough. I'm gonna go eat some pizza & drink a beer & oh God knows what else.



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