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last updated: 4/27/03 - 1:41pm EST
L.A. to New York Road Trip Part II, Electric Bugaloo -- starring: "slee" como, jg, and parky
Departure Date: Saturday April 19, 2003, Los Angeles, Califas
Sat April 19 | Sun April 20 | Mon April 21 | Tue April 22 | Wed April 23 | Thur Apr 24 | Fri Apr 25
Photique Gallery 1 | Photique Gallery 2 | Photique Gallery 4 | Photique Gallery 5 | Photique Gallery 6
Morning in Delaware with our waiter cool cat Cisco, hipping
us to his dreams of a phat escalade with 22 inch rims, telling us stories
about his frenchie girlfriend in college. o dear! the lurid details
we chuckled. Him a very friendly soul and wishing us safe passage to
new york. O new york! Home. Back through the Boogie Down Bronx after
digging the Jersey turnpike. City news/ top rocking blues/ box orthodox
style like a worm/ i am from cali/ no i do not have a perm...You are
with us in NJ. You are with us on the West Side. You are with us as
we cross the vibrating web of the George Washington Bridge. You are
with us here. A bright warm day (fer east coasters) with the flowers
weighing down the branches. O New York! O the heart! The hello boys
part II road journey ending but a new page turning -- two bums yelling
by the bus stop -- the kids in t-shirts standing outside Yankee stadium.
I'm a wee bit tired but excited for my stay here. Old friends, old loves,
new friends, new loves -- in the city there are a million stories --
me and my new east village cutie/ cooling on the bench and she's rubbing
on me booty/ etc... Thank you for peeping the pages and following with
us. The open road is for everybody! Not once did we argue for we laughed
the whole time. Bless Johnny and Jimi. Bless you for listening! Bless
the open road, sky, field, desert, mountain, farm, city, river, ocean,
truck stop, highway highway highway, now sitting and enjoying some tea
on Sycamore Ave casa Goodner. Resting and getting ready for the madness
that will unfold this week for us. Body is tired but the brain is still
moving, always out there -- past concrete horizons. New York for a few
weeks and back home to los, califas to take care of the work work work.
But now, everything is open as it always is. What thoughts do you have
moving through with all your atoms on fire? What song do you hear when
you head hits the pillow? Fellow traveller, we meet and shake hands,
we trade stories, we talk the song of the heart, then go in other directions.
We are same travellers on the road of the heart. The road is love. The
heart is knowing. The world is love.
I always loved Delaware and now I get to spend some time.
In the VA truck stop, a chap in a camo cap does a complete turn around
when I walk in. And I wasn't even rocking the NASA jumpsuit yet. We
sat down for dindin and listened to this trucker chat up our cute and
country waitress. Johnny dug the giant trucker centre while Jim and
I talked about working for the "big boss" and other "Italians"
and how I didn't want to "do the job" because I was afraid
the "Chinese" would "ice me." My back turn to the
other truckers, of course. Jim giggling as ear perked up and listened.
Don't want to watch the hotel telly/ the truckers have big bellies/
comb my hair like ted kopple/ get gas when i eat falafel... and so on.
O Delaware! O first state, how we forget about your Dunkin Donuts and
late nite snacky places. We very tired. We pull in near 2 in the morn/
eat your corn/ flake on me i'll still love ya/ tiny angelic delaware
above the/ boys sitting and listening to Laurie Anderson and tripping
robotique ripples while I got under lamby pie warm covers and drifted
to sleepsville and back into the void.
A very long drive from Memphis to Staunton. Rolling green hills, cows, barns and woods blur by the window. On the car hi fi is Carter family. We stop in Knoxville to dig the sunsphere a la "wig dome" from Simpsons and find the old city district very cultured. I had some authentic fish and chippies while Johnny became smitten with our attractive young waitress, who wrote some happy face notes on the takeway box. She wanted to leave her town and make it to Califas with Johnny? Child bride drive along? Jim and I cut out to an antique store where the man-friendly owner kept talking and thus I was unable to bust out the goofing on him. When we mentioned the "Wigsphere" he said he was not ignorant (being a Northerner) and knew about that Simpsons episode. Then he dropped the Los Feliz and WeHo knowledge on me while I proclaimed I wuz from the streetz and chuckah chuckah. We drove and called Brendan to wish him happy birthday but we were a day early. Nice to chat with him and chuckle chuckah chuckah. Very long drive to country side Staunton where some sistah was not happy working the night shift. Me tired. Me crashing. Me have many miles, many miles, many miles to go. Jim dreaming of hip hop Bronx and wifey; me dreaming of Japanese food and Japanese special friend back home; Johnny making plans to import his new child bride. Goodnight.
Soulville. Driving over the Ole Miss and into Memphis is heaven. The city lights were a welcoming sight. I love rural America but the city is where I feel most at home. I grew up with Soul music so being in Memphis, home of Otis, Booker and Stax Records is coming home for me. And boy, goofing with our soul food catfish and beer while listening to a blues band was glorious. The guitarist was from East Los/Highland Park, Califas so I gave him props to the max. There was a wonderful Blues store and the owner introduced himself as Davis, Layfette. We don't know what is his first name but his polite and lazy Southern drawl was warm and soothing. He told me he used to work in the supermarket across from Stax and would see all the the Soul Stars come in. Booker T., The wicked Wilson Pickett, Issac Haynes, Otis -- he's seen and heard them all. On the stereo was the Howling "Wolf" and some Willie Dixon. I was also glad to see some other Asians and I nodded at a brother walking by with his family. Lord have mercy, I haven't seen any other yellow chiggahs for days -- except for yours truly in the mirror. Beale Street is clean, tourist and blasting the blues. I like country and all types of music but it's Soul Music that is the sweetest, baby. Now it's night in Memphis and after digging the city for some exciting hours, it's time for sleepsville, dig? Soul is love.
[Other items of note: Detective Borat & Inspector Boutros were
on hand to witness Catfish Ripplers™ and the Elky Mules. Now playing
at Bright Angel Lodge. PS - The Indian Chap made it safely back to the
buffet this morning. Also of note, new instructions on how to categorize
and color code all your associates. Auf Wiedersehen und Gobinda.]
We're proud to be putting these upcoming pages of our adventure together for the Built Boyle. Go Open Road! The first trip was made in 1995 but we've packed out more madness for this voyage. Johnny is outfitting the transport with a lot of high techy computadora flavour so we will be able to update and transmit the image, text, sound source for ya'll to peep. Isn't that neat? He'll be taking some fine art pichers for everybody to see. And Slee is flying from NY at the moment with a lot of heavy shit to blow your minds. Me? Taking care of business and filing the last of the work, surfing the curls, feeding "my girls", etc.. Even on the open road we will be able to "touch you" and you will be able to "touch us." You like? Self-absorbed jacquer pages? More like clowny collective, my friends. Tis freedom of movement with all atoms vibrating in our shared earthly passage. You will be with us in New Mexique. You are with us in Tehas. You are with us in Delaware! You are with us in Memphis! You are with us in Nepal, well, maybe not Nepal. You are with us in unconditional love and insanity. Ignore the land of hungry ghosts -- they have heartburn and they're too attached still. We welcome the nightmares, too! All is glorious and we know what a fool you've been. You've lied, cheated and sneaked a few farts. O heart! You're all forgiven. Even in all the confusion, suffering and pain, you laugh. The sound is love. The world is love.
Sexy Beast™ photographique de John M. Goodner © 2003