Tennesee to Alabama to Georgia

Another kind of late start leaving Nashville of course. Luckily Atlanta, or more specifically, Marietta (a suburb outside of Atlanta) wasn't much more than 4 hours away. I felt like the beginning of the trip was almost like a roller coaster because as soon as I got past the major city area of Nashville I began an ascent into some kind of mountains only to begin descending again around a half hour later and keep descending for what seemed like the majority of the trip in twists and turns snaking through the hills and valleys of the mountain. The suggested speed for trucks over 4 tons was 40MPH and there were "Runaway Truck" ramps every few miles as if to drive the point home. As if the warnings meant little to the trucks that were greatly over 4 tons, most of them rushed past me at breakneck speeds. You all know my fondness for heights, so you could imagine a nervous Colin cussing out tailgaters and those guilty of cutting me off.

Speaking of things I'm fond of, roadside attractions rank pretty high up there and I feel as though so far I haven't treated myself to many thus far. A good way to get a person's attention, especially mine, is to have convincing billboards. This is how Tennessee/Alabama Fireworks came into my life. There were signs all over for miles trying to convince me to get off at exit 152, take exit 152, everything you need is at exit 152, etc. I mean shit, goofy novelties and fireworks in one stop? They might as well offered hand jobs and free leather jackets made out of the skin of religious deities. I was convinced. Exit 152 (or 153, don't quote me on it) rolled around and I got off to find my paradise. I knew it was going to be everything I expected because of the giant neon sign I could see from the highway. There's not much better than being excited on something that you know is exactly what you expected it to be. This was mecca.

Walking slowly, I navigated the rows of firecrackers, M-80s, bottle rockets, roman candles, mortars, and everything good in the world. I was overwhelmed and must have looked around for at the very least 20 minutes before I realized I could purchase such wares from THE VERY SHOP I WAS IN. I greedily snatched up some roman candles and a bag of M-80s that there is a 99% chance I will never use up as if I didn't act fast this opportunity would disappear. I loaded up, got some postcards, and went to the counter. A couple was eating behind a glass case featuring knives and corn cob pipes and I realized how hungry I was at that point. The sun was almost down so I had been driving for a while. I eyed a Waffle House across the street as he was ringing me up when I noticed cigarette loads. For those of you not familiar, cigarette loads are meant to explode upon lighting when put into the tip of a cigarette. It's great for laughs. The guy thought my excited reaction was funny enough to give me some for free.

I left, eying the Waffle House across the street even harder now and figured I might as well put the rest of the drive on hold. I had never had Waffle House food before and it seemed appropriate to have it now in this small mountain town. I drove across the street and went in. There was a young girl working the counter that I almost expected to be there. She was short and chubby with an outrageous southern accent busting the chops of the zitty teenager working the waffle irons with great delight. She had a big smile and called the patrons "sugar" and "honey" and names of that caliber while waiting on them. I got a basic meal that came with a waffle, hash browns, toast, eggs, and bacon in appropriate proportions as to not get overly stuffed. It was a pleasurable experience, albeit the stares of the other diners got to be a bit much towards the end when more travelers came through.

Driving again, the sun finished its course under the horizon and I flipped on my headlights. Of course! The mileage! I had almost forgot how close it was to rolling over to 150,000 miles! This would have been as unforgivable as when I missed my ill-fated Civic turn over to 200k about two years ago, like hell was I going to miss this one. Those 50 miles seemed to go by slowly as every five minutes I kept looking down to see my progress if for anything than just to remind me that it was going to happen. I, of course, forgot about it for a long period of time but remembered at the last minute and looked down to see the last two miles fly by. A proud moment. I've grown reluctantly attached to this car over the period I've owned it, especially with the shit it's put me through, but it was like we had a bonding moment.

Crossing a bridge over a lake surrounded by a faint night mist dusted with headlights of the cars around me, I felt tranquil. I coasted the remanding distance to the Georgia state line.

Nashville Postscript:

We almost threw water balloons at Gene Simmons. I wish we had went through with it.

Nashville: Music City, USA

My ride to Nashville was a relaxing endeavor. I knew fun times were ahead as I always liked hanging out with Paul when he's in town but our paths don't cross all that often. I began to listen to my pirated audiobook Mister B. Gone by Clive Barker (as read by Doug Bradley) and felt a bit of a relief getting out of Cincinnati. In the beginning of this trip I had a hard time getting into the whole book on CD thing, but by this time I had more than just gotten used to them, and I'd gone into a near trancelike state while it was on. So trancelike, that I drove right past the sign saying to take the next exit to get to Dinosaurworld, but not trancelike enough to miss the giant dinosaur after the exit had gone by with a sign chastizing me for missing it. I will never forgive myself for this infraction.

Nashville was only about 4 hours from Cincinnati so the trip took a short time to complete. I stopped at the welcoming center on the Tennessee border to get some snacks and see what was so welcoming about it. It really wasn't all that welcoming now that I reflect back on it as a family of four waited for me intently while I finished picking out what I was to get out of the vending machines before even going inside the building. I got my eats and was given a wide girth when I walked out. In the car I chowed down and waited for a call back from Paul to figure out what was going on. He said he had a meeting of sorts so I went to fooBAR (the bar his girlfriend manages) to have a few drinks and wind down from the drive. Upon Paul's arrival we got pizza and decimated it in minutes.

Afterwards we hopped into Paul's '32 Sedan to take a ride downtown so he could show me some of the sights and get me acquainted to the area. It was still in the process of being worked on so it didn't have any windows, save the windshield, but it was nice enough weather. Not to mention, I felt like a total badass riding around in that thing. We found parking downtown somewhere and walked around looking at all the tacky souvenier shops and music stores as well as the millions upon millions of bars with some nondescript country band playing cover tunes in them. I became more acquainted with the bars downtown the following day, as well as the music which was pretty 50/50 as far as the goods and bads. One of these times which was made clear almost instantly which one it was, was when we got into a venue in East Nashville to see a band Paul had seen on Nashvillepunk.com as well as a burlesque show that was supposed to follow the musical act. What we got upon entry was, inarguably, as sad as it was hilarious. The trio of 30-something year old mall freaker characters up on stage was almost too much to take which lead to our early departure. If you ever get the chance to see the Flashcut Pinups please do. They didn't seem to get past the "we need our rock star clothes to be good" phase of most middle school bands, so they were dressed to tickle you with laughter. Fishnets and Nike running shoes, more fishnets, goofy anime-esque leg warmers, and even a doctor's lab jacket thrown in for good measure. Apparently the two girls in that band were two out of the three girls in the burlesque show, so after hearing that we weren't convinced the 3rd had enough talent to hold it together and we took off during a horrible cover of the Ramones "Pet Sematary".

We stopped at a few places more that fail me right now and we eventually decide to just go back to fooBAR and catch whatever band is playing there. They were some kind of grungy alt-rock band where the bug-eyed singer/guitarist wanted to be in Mudhoney while the rest of the band looked more suited for college jam band rock. That being said, they were leagues better than Flashcut Pinups so I enjoyed myself. After that we went downtown again hoping for something better to jump out at us. It (kind of) did in the form of a strip club. A platinum blonde that I had trouble seeing over her fake breasts gave us both flyers that looked like they were printed out on one of those old ribbon printers advertising a joint in Painter's Alley called Brass Stables. I figured, shit, it's a strip club in Nashville and it's only a few blocks away, let's check it out. We spent some time walking around to find Painter's Alley but to no avail. We asked several people and they said it was right off of the street we were on, and there was a giant neon banner over it, and we couldn't miss it. Miss it we did. We started to feel like we had been had when we had turned around and decided to give up. When walking Paul pointed out to a rather large alley that did, in fact, have a huge fucking neon sign over it with PAINTER'S ALLEY clearly written out. From what he had heard, sometime in the 60's maybe (I don't remember) the Outlaws and the Hell's Angels had an all out gang war in there that got so bad the streets outside the alley ran red with blood.

So we saw the place and figured it must be something else entirely as it looked more like, well, not a strip club. It was pretty grimey actually. So we kept walking to see if there possibly was another strip club further up, but no luck. When walking back we weren't too sure if we were going to go in until a portly guy with a big smile came out and said to us: "Hey boys! You like tits?" to which we answered with a confident yes. He told us of the free food, and the alleged nude karaoke, and how gorgeous the dancers were, blah blah blah. We handed him our $15 and went in. The free food seemed kinda shoddy when we got in so neither one of us were too into the idea of eating any of it, and the club atmosphere was pretty grim. An attractive blonde stripper came and sat down in between us after we had taken our seats, said hello, and then proceeded to look miserable without saying a word. Both her hands on her lap. It was awkward to say the least. I asked her how to get a beer there and she said they didn't actually serve beer there, they had to get it across the street and bring it back for you. Upon hearing this I immediately lost the rest of my interest and it seemed that Paul was also not enjoying himself. We left and the fat man at the door didn't look too surprised. "Bye fellas"

When we were walking back to his car it seemed as if we shared the same sentiments. The stench of shame hung heavy in that club and it was hard to shake afterwards. None of the girls liked their jobs, none of them danced like they wanted anyone to see them in public, and they all had a cloud of misery hanging over their heads as if the smallest thing would set them off. All the patrons were elderly chain smoking old men that had a pathetic hunger in their eyes that had far surpassed having a good time. Paul pointed out that if they had to advertise free food we should have taken that immediately as a red flag. "Shouldn't the face that women are dancing nude for your enjoyment be enough to bring in customers? Free food should be the last of their concerns." I almost (almost) lost my zeal for strip clubs for good, but upon some coaxing I think I could manage another trip to a carefully chosen one.

The next morning I wake up from the awesome spare bed loaned out to me and got dressed. Paul's girlfriend's old friend from Texas was in town so we all met him for lunch at this place called Rose Pepper or something along those lines. He's the singer for Hank Williams III metal band Assjack which was kind of cool because I used to be a big fan years ago when they came through town. I guess they were on their way out that night for tour and they were using Nashville as a starting location. Two of their other friends, a tall outspoken redheaded girl and a soft spoken southern gent, came out too. After we all ordered our food I realized I was the only asshole that didn't order an enchilada but it was well worth it as the fajita tray they brought out was stacked up miles high with pure deliciousity. We ate, talked, and parted ways. Upon getting home I sat down for a minue to try and get my body in digestion mode when Paul asks if I'm in the mood to drink a lot of beer. First reaction was I was far from it, but upon further review I decided it was the best thing for me to do. His friends from this band Curbside Saints (one of which I had partied with in Albany in his old band Civil Uprising that I didn't remember until after the fact) were going out so Paul proposed we meet them at this Irish bar Mulligan's.

We spent a long time trying to find parking anywhere as it was a Saturday night in Nashville, and when we found one it was kind of snug but it had to do. I should start this by saying I have kind of a problem trying to parallel park on the right side of the road and it's damn near impossible for me to complete in one turn successfully. This was no different. I ended up about a foot away from the curb and had hit both the cars in front of me and behind me. The entire street seemed to be staring at us so we cut our losses and bailed out when the car was as straight as it was going to get. We were so embarrased, in fact, that we didn't notice that we parked in front of the Mulligan's door and proceeded to walk up and down the street looking for the place. We got there and hung out for a while, the guys meeting us taking a long time to get there due to the parking issue. When they arrived we played some darts for a while. The guy Matt that was there reminded me of a taller, more southern version of Pat (the singer for Scag Rotter) which progressively began to blow my mind more and more throughout the night. We finished a couple games and all decided to walk around Broadway to see if there was anything cool going on. A few bars were stopped into to see the live music available but none of it was any good as it had been primarily pop country. Nick, Paul's other friend that came out, suggested we go back to Mulligan's because a decent Irish style pub rock band was playing later that night. They were pretty good but did some pretty bad covers to satisfy the tourist crowd as there was some kind of event that night bringing them out. No matter how many times I called out for it they wouldn't do a Thin Lizzy cover, so I reverted back to obnoxious heckler mode and started calling for Discharge covers and wishing Brendan was around to get it. After a while hanging out, these two girls clad in black came in and Matt decided to call them over. Much coaxing seemed like it was needed but eventually they did and they were a lot of fun. Some of it, without a doubt, was due to Matt seesawing back and forth between the both of them hoping that one of them would be into his advances. He eventually declared how drunk he was and Nick and him left. Paul and I spent the rest of the time hanging out with the two girls and some of their friends from the Hard Rock Cafe, one of which looked like a taller version of Eminem. It turns out both of those girls knew Paul's girlfriend which solidified Paul's point that he couldn't flirt with a girl if he wanted to because of his well known girlfriend. All of our goodbyes were said and we went back to Paul's place to crash out.

The next morning (or afternoon) we took a trip to get some food at a local Jack-in-the-Box and stop to check out a pawn shop or maybe the World's Cheapest Adult DVD store but none of them were open as it was a Sunday and apparently they still keep holy the fucking sabbath. Doesn't do dick for me of course, but what can ya do. We chowed down, got back, hung out for a minute, then I packed up and shipped out. Atlanta, GA here I come!

Cinci punx is bikes?

Here I am in wonderful Marietta, GA (a suburb outside of Atlanta) waiting for a Hot Pocket I bought a little while ago at the Citgo up the road to cool off for consumption. It smells curiously like wet dog (it's supposed to be pepperoni) and my coffee tastes kind of like dirt and french vanilla hot water, but this is the fuel I need to help me document the last couple of days as there was no opportunity for me to get down to business before. We pick up where our hero left off five days ago..

9AM rolls around that Thursday morning in my room at the Microtel and I remember the continental breakfast that was promised upon awakening. Now I'm not sure if any of you guys have had one of these before, but my idea of a continental breakfast must be way different than Microtel's. There was cereal galore, of course, but no milk to use with it as they had ran out. There was one bagel left that was kind of gross and only fake butter left over as the cup that held the packets of real butter was drained of all but one which turned out to just be a wrapper. I toasted my bagel and had my horribly bitter orange juice and got to work packing up and showering. The night before it had come to my attention that I did not, and could not, have any cash on me because I didn't know my pin number to my new debit card. I had plenty of cash on it and no way to access it. My mom wired me some money that I picked up through a local Walmart as a quick fix. I promptly checked out, forgot all of my records at the room, and went to pick up the cash and move on. About half way to my next destination, Cincinnati, I remembered my ill fated records and that I didn't currently have them with me. Luckily they have a contingency plan for that sort of thing and I'm going to meet up with them in Florida when I get there.

The drive to Cincinatti, after the storm of the night before, went without instance. I didn't know where I was supposed to meet Sammi (my CS.com buddy) so I had looked into some record stores the night before and went to one called Shake It! Records in which I blew the rest of my record budget for the year on some gems. I had to leave behind Ice & the Iced which kind of bummed me out, but it was roughly $18 which is kind of out of the question for any one record save this Exploited one I picked up that I'll get into later. My haul this time looked like this:

• Germ Attak - Ouroboros
• the Joneses - Criminals
• Kegcharge - Sadistic War Glory
• Conga Fury - Chaotic Noise
• Hubble Bubble - S/T
• the Exploited - Innercity Decay

The Exploited record was kind of pricy, coming in at $21, but upon asking two of my friends who are also (if not moreso) big Exploited fans they hadn't even heard of it and couldn't find much info about it on the net, so I figured if anything it was a cool oddity to find.

So after the record shopping, I walked up the road a ways to meet Sammi at this coffee shop called the Sidewinder Cafe or something along those lines. I got a coffee to help me get my brain in motion again and relaxed in quiet observer mode. It didn't take me long after meeting her and her friends for me to notice that they were big into bikes. I mean everyone has their thing, but I have a hard time not discounting a lot of "bike punks" as contemporary hippies. It just seems the vests and patches and crust music is a good way to keep themselves seperate from their other leaf eating bretheren while still maintaining all other aspects. Nothing against their personalities, they were all nice and everything, but I have a hard time taking the sort of people that have words like "co-op" or "collective" in their daily lexicon seriously. Aside from that they seemed to be average college students, just clad in black and with basic knowledge of their decided trend. Er.. subculture.

We went back to Sammi's house, which was a really nice duplex in a pretty decent area, with her friend and her friend's dog (who was totally awesome) and she made us all some kind of vegan spaghetti. To get up to the apartment, there were black iron stairs similar to the ones a fire escape would have going around the side of the building. Usually I can't stand vegan food and half the time I prefer to even avoid vegetarian dishes, but this was quite delicious. I chowed down and proceeded to sit in silence while more talk of bike rides and meetings for non-profit organizations and stuff were discussed. Her and her friends left to go to some meeting for something or the other, so I took the opportunity to listen to all of my new records several times over and play some guitar. I was amazed at the amount of Calvin & Hobbes books in their bathroom and ended up reading far too much and letting my legs fall asleep whilst defecating.

Upon their return, we went to meet up with some of her friends for some party 10 minutes across the Kentucky border. There was some restaurant or bar or something where a scene was filmed for Rain Man was shot a couple blocks up. This was also a nice neighborhood which leads me to believe the standard of living is far greater in this area than in the Saratoga or Albany apartments I frequent. This crazy party ended up being a gathering of most of their bike crew at one of their apartments. Everyone was nice and we had some good laughs. Up with all the wall hangings, pictures, posters, flyers, and an electrical tape drawing of Kurt Vonnegut, there was a list of bands for something in Florida called the Fest. I was surprised to see After the Fall listed, another upstate NY band, amongst the bands that had played which was cool to see more local bands in far away places (I had also seen the Tragics 7" at the record store earlier which brought a smile to my face).

A short while after we got there everyone decided to keep going with their ride so we went with a couple of the people there to one of their apartments in which we listened to some records and drank more. I taught one of them how to shotgun a beer which brought on a new activity to follow the already heavy drinking. When people weren't paying attention I kept putting on the Dido CD or the Ryan Adams CD that I had found laying around in the stack of loose discs by the boom box. To further the hippie aesthetic, the gentleman whose apartment it was started to discuss how punk it was of this one guy to play bluegrass and to live on a farm where he not only brewed his own beer, but he grew his own hops too. I tried not to think too hard about it and drank my MD 20/20 bought at a drive-thru liquor establishment.

We left the party and listened to some good tunes on the way back to Sammi's place where we hung out for a little longer before she departed for bed citing her early morning as reason for it. She showed me the couch which had plenty of pillows and blankets on it so I could be as warm and comfortable as needed and offered to let me stay another night if I wanted. I considered it but the next morning I was awoke too early by her room mate who needed me to move my car so she could get out. I couldn't get back to sleep so I decided I'd get moving. I wrote out my thank you, left Sammi the remainder of my Maddog as a gift of my appreciation, and took off for my next stop. The much anticipated Nashville, TN...

Three Days in Pittsburgh

The night before I left I spent in Albany at Valentine's for most of the night. No Fucker played with Fast Death and select others, and needless to say it was great. I partied a little too hard and didn't end up leaving my friend's couch until around noon which meant I didn't have nearly enough time to pack and finish cleaning up before I left. However, around 2 o'clock I was loaded up and ready to go. I stopped at Stewart's to pick up a gallon of ice cream which is probably melting in my car as we speak, but I had to do it to get free 7/11 slushies for a week and to prove to myself that such a feat is possible.

I burned a copy of Herbert West: Re-Animator as read by Jeffery Combs onto CD, along with assorted other short stories, so I started with a couple of those. The drive wasn't too bad but the worst part about it was that it occurred mostly in darkness. To pass time I sang some favorite songs and made stops at some rest areas for bathroom breaks and food and the like.

Shortly before 11PM I arrived in Pittsburgh and made my way to the Rock Room, which is Diana's place of work. It was pretty busy so she said hello and introduced me to some friends that I forgot and her boyfriend Bobby. I got a beer (by the way, Pittsburgh is another city with a lack of beer in gas stations) and relaxed while I tried to get my brain out of total isolation mode and relearn the art of conversation while simultaneously get a feel for the atmosphere. One thing that sticks out about my whole trip is that the people of Pittsburgh seemed to lack that chip on their shoulder that I've grown accustomed to in New York state. I ended up meeting a guy named Tom that sang for the hardcore punk band FLAK that I vaguely remember hearing before. It seemed as though Pittsburgh was full of punks (of the Havoc Records sort) and their dogs. I'd guess, if I had to, the ratio is probably 1 dog for every 2 people wearing Carhartts. After last call, we finished talking each others ears off and said goodbye. Diana, Bobby, and I walked back to their apartment (everywhere is uphill there) in the charming neighborhood of Polish Hill. A lot of small bars and businesses and cool houses that were fixed up. My favorite of which wasn't in that area, I think it may have been Oakland, but was a coffee shop I didn't get the name of. It was small and clearly run by younger folks as it reflected somewhat of a DIY aesthetic. The coffee was great and the banana bread was fucking awesome.

Usually when Diana went off to school I'd hang out with her friend Sonny that lived up the street a little ways. Sonny had a quick wit and an immense amount of energy. She showed me around a lot and would feed my brain fun facts about certain things. It seemed both Diana and Sonny had awesome info about Pittsburgh's history or certain areas or what have you. The first two days Diana had class for a few hours so Sonny brought me to various stores and boutiques and it was cool to see some of them. After the first night, Sonny and I met up with Diana again and went to Bobby's work to get some eats. He's a cook at this classy kinda place named Kaya (Jamaican slang for marijuana I've been told) that serves Caribbean/Island style cuisine so he sent us out a lot of entrees for free before we actually ordered. I ended up with pork belly sandwiches and tried several other dishes which were all overwhelmingly delicious. One of Bobby's co-workers asked me if I knew Zack from Acid Reflux which was kind of a surprise, but goes to further the concept that it is indeed a small world after all. The whole stay there actually I was well fed sampling a lot of local cuisine, from a sandwich shop that was featured on the Food channel to some kind of meat on a stick in front of an asian restaurant. I'm glad as I don't think I'm going to eat that well for the rest of the trip.

Going with the whole consuming theme, drinking was rampant as well. Diana showed me some of her favorite bars in the area and usually Bobby was into the idea of drinking more when he got out of work. The second night saw Bobby and I going down to a place called Gooski's, I think, and getting shitty. Luckily it was just a short walk back to the apartment because, of course, it was downhill from it. Wicked downhill.

Record shopping was a blast, I went several times throughout the trip. Everything was insanely cheap! Most of which never broke $10, so I bought to excess. I don't remember specifically what the names of some of the places I went to with Sonny, but earlier today before leaving I went to a place called Jerry's I think with Diana where I found the motherload. Altogether I ended up finding some gems:

• Eddie and the Hot Rods - Life on the Line
• the Marked Men - Ghosts
• Carbonas - S/T
• Melanie - Gather Me
• Against Empire - The Ones Who Strike the Blows Forget... [silk screened cover]
• Phalanx - S/T
• 17th Class - ...In Utter Contempt of the Human Race
• the South - Chomp Chomp Chomp [silk screened cover]
• Girlschool - Screaming Blue Murder
• Assfort - Complete Assforterly 1990-'93 [picture disc]

All of this was for under $50 which may be hard to fathom, but I guess that's how they roll. I had a hard time leaving behind Sunday Morning Einsteins, Kaaos, and several others that were cheap but Jerry's didn't take credit cards. Thankfully, Diana had cash on her that I could borrow until we could get cash outta somewhere. She made mention of another place that I'd probably enjoy that was closed when we stopped in, but a unanimous decision was made that, while exciting, was totally unnecessary. We stopped at an alcohol distributor on the way back to her apartment so I could buy a crate of 40oz. for the Florida kids. Motherfuckers only have 32oz. there which totally blows my mind.

Upon leaving I drove head first into the worst thunderstorm I've seen in years where I was nearly blown off the road many times and the visibility due to the high volume of rain was severely limited. This hit me around the time that all energy drained out of me. I spent another hour or two on the road but every time the storm subsided it seemed as if I'd take another exit heading directly towards it. It was bizarre seeing the sky nearly black in front of me and white soft clouds with sun behind them to my left (or right? somewhere). I guess it can be attributed to the 50-60 degree weather in winter that this area has had for the past few days. No more than 12 hours after I arrived it was nothing but bright and sunny so It had to come at a price I suppose. I ended up stopping at an exit in a place called Grove City, and after getting some food from an easily excited high school girl that asked too many questions regarding why I looked so worn out ("You drove from where?!") I found a Microtel that advertised some ridiculously low rate that I don't remember (roughly $40 with a free continental breakfast in the morning!) so I figured it was a good idea to invest in it. The weather hasn't improved much but my mood has for sure.

Checkout is at 11AM. Next stop, Cincinnati.

A premise, or, Good Idea/Bad Idea

So I'm not entirely sure how far back I should go. At this point, I'm assuming this will all be for my own personal reference but I may send this link to close friends as a mean to tell stories without having to repeat them. If you're interested, you're all set. If you aren't, you don't have to fake it anymore!
Initially, I acquired a small blank unlined paper book in order to keep information regarding my trip (I'll get to it) but after writing long winded entries with very little stream of consciousness qualities due to speed limitations, I figured I'd give in and go electric. Onward:

I'm making a jail break. Temporarily at least. It's anticipated that I will be gone for around a month, maybe more, the exact period of time has not been determined yet. Upstate New York has been growing more characteristics of what I'd imagine a prison cell to have so a breath of fresh air is long overdue. How many inmates are dumb enough to go back after a period of time on their own accord is something that I try not to ponder, but hey I like it there. I'm getting too deep into my already poorly chosen and somewhat cliche metaphor. I can't help it, I've driven a total of 13 or so hours solo thus far and brain drain is in full effect.

As for the trip, I've decided to go to several cities I've never seen before with the intention of ending up in sunny Orlando, FL at the end to ride out the remainder of the winter. I've mapped out some ideal areas. Where I knew people, I got into contact with them and where I didn't I used a handy tool among travelers of any sort, Couchsurfing.com to locate a floor, couch, futon, flat surface, to crash out on for a night. Here are some intended destinations:

1. Pittsburgh, PA
- My long time penpal Diana lives here with her boyfriend Bobby. This was our first meeting in person since we started writing emails back and forth almost 10 years ago. I figured this was a good stop to make, as I've had the intention of going to visit for a long time anyway.

2. Cincinnati, OH
- This is basically the half way point between Pittsburgh and Nashville, which may or may not be my next stop depending on if I handle the long drive as poorly as I did today. I'm about 2 or 3 hours away right now and damn near dead of exhaustion. The girl I'm staying with in Cincinnati is named Sammi, I met her on CS.com and she seems nice. She's into punk so with any luck she'll know some hot spots for records and/or strong drink.

2 1/2. Louisville, KY
- I've never been here and it was kind of an afterthought to throw this stop on the list. I met Anna on CS.com as well. She's a musician and plays in a band called Vampire Octopus or something like that. It sounds like there's a lot going on here too. I don't even know if I'm going here or not, but it would be nice to have a back up if I get too tired to make it all the way to my next stop...

3. Nashville, TN
- A place I've always wanted to see. It ended up being convenient because Paul, a close friend of a close friend, moved down there a couple years ago. It'll be great to see a familiar face on the road as well as, with any luck, Sun Records. He says there's a lot going on musically still so I'm excited. This stop is second place to Florida on the stoke-o-meter.

4. Atlanta, GA
- My Uncle Frank lives here so it would be nice to stop in and see him on his home turf. I haven't actually been to Georgia to visit him since I was in single digits on road trips with the family. He co-owns a bar now and recently bought a house so his living situation has greatly changed since then.

5. Tallahassee, FL
- This would just be ideal to sever the trip down in half on the way to see my grandparents. If it doesn't happen, oh well, 7 hours isn't nearly as bad of a drive as the 9 that I started with.

6. Venice, FL
- My grandma and grandpa, or as they prefer to be called Situ and Jidu (it's Syrian even though only Jidu is. Situ is Irish? French? Some mix of European ethnicities), moved down there a few years ago from either Englewood or Sarasota, I don't remember. Either way, it should be nice. They're kinda (read: extremely) nutty so I'll be glad I'm not staying there as long as usual. They were very excited when they heard and gave my Dad a $50 McDonald's gift card so I would always have food on the drive. Then its on to my final destination:

4. Orlando, FL
- SO STOKED! Staying with Darick and crew at their new place. Gonna be here for a while, hopefully raging hard and getting a few hours at the Pita Pit. Nice weather, lots of fun, great folks, shit is gonna rule.

For now however, I'm in total brain drain mode in a Microtel somewhere 2 hours outside of Cincinnati so I'm going to get some relaxation in while I can. This was an absurdly cheap room with free breakfast in the morning so it couldn't be beat. The power keeps going on and off due to a ridiculous thunderstorm going on right now but it's cozy.

I'm going to watch some TV. With any luck a little later I'll have some energy to type out the happenings from the Pittsburgh trip tonight too while they're fresh in my mind.