THE NEVER ENDER BENDER
A Recount of the spot date turned two-month tour

As an artist/musician/weirdo I have always prided myself on having friends and listeners all over the country, and even world for that matter. It has always been an amazement that what I do could reach across stretches of immense land and differences to find people that have a lot in common with my life, love and struggles. Given that, I would also like to bring up the fact that I've hardly done any traveling. A few short runs down the westcoast, a childhood visit to mexico, and a recent family stay in Texas, but when it comes to performing for people from other places I've rarely gotten the chance. Then came July.

I had been trying to book a small tour with fellow artist and now good friend JFK (of Grayskul/Oldominion) but contacts fell through and like countless tours before, it was looking like I was going nowhere. I had one show booked for San Francisco, being originally from Central California and having always thought SF was the coolest place to visit as a kid, I felt I had to do this show, regardless of it being a money loser or not. I was determined to make it to my San Fran show.A few days prior to the show my great friends and heroes The Chicharones were in the middle of their tour and since I was going to be in the area they agreed to let me get on a couple of shows of theirs. This was great, I love these guys and have played with them numerous times always to result in a great show. JFK was also joining them last minute on this tour so I was excited to see my filthy clan of pirates and pretty boys alike.

There's something about planes that I've always hated. I never felt like we as humans were supposed to be launched through the air at top speeds to our destination, but with expansion comes risks I suppose. This was my first time boarding a plan and being of drinking age, so I decided to hit the airport bar. WHOA! being drunk on an airplane is way better than not. Turbulence came and I was ready. I don't think I'll ever be afraid on a plane again, I'll just be trying to not urinate myself before the seat belt sign shuts off.Arriving in the bay area was thrilling. As it always is, so many people, such sprawl, such disdain, yet also hope and success. I had made it back to a place oh so familiar. I met up with my producer Level and got to spend some quality time discussing music and our upcoming works. The Jester King album is gonna rule, it's gonna be hard to top, but with Level on my side, it will be done.

What I've always loved about San Francisco, is how the entire bay area will be lit up with golden sun, yet you approach the bridge and there it is; a sweltering smog cloud illuminating the city in sulfur. Living now in the North West this was nothing too tough for me to adjust to, I am made of waste. The show went great, met a ton of wonderful people, had some drinks, and made way to my next destination.


In Nevada City I would meet Los Chicharones, I have a cousin in the city and had been there before and new if the nightlife was anything like their river life, this would be a good time, and it was. Show was packed, and I was back with familiar friends. The Chicharones at this point had already been on the road for about three weeks, and were getting a little beat up at this point. It was great to see the immediate switch in morale when I showed up and hugs were exchanged. The caravan had gained one, for how long? who knows. For I was told just a few days.

So here we are moving to Southern California, we played Palm Springs for a great crowd, met more amazing people (big ups to the Grimm Image camp), spotted Jack Black buying ice cream at a TCBY, and left the city in a trail of awesomeness. It was time for Arizona.

For those of you that don't know, I'm a skinny pale white kid. I've been between Washington and Oregon for years now, and the slightest hint of sun turns me snarling and gasping like a vampire. The Arizona sun hit me hard like grease in a hot pan. I toughed it out though, and in fact the only part of me that got sunburned was my nose, leaving me looking very Rudolph-esque. Sexy.


All of the shows in Arizona were great, tons of cool people out there. Unfortunately the marijuana laws there are not very cool. Seriously, what the hell Arizona? it's pot. Anyways, I didn't get caught up with anything, however the driver of our caravan did get arrested. It was completely unfair, far too much detail to get into, but it did suck. However he is okay now, but from what he said, Arizona police are no joke, and getting hit with socks full of soap bars is neither fun nor productive. Probably my favorite part of Arizona was meeting a lot of people that already knew me. Like I said it is always mind blowing to see your work make it distances you've yet to travel. Amazing by far.


Moving on to New Mexico, I love New Mexico. Sleep of The Chicharones has a lot of good friends and family out there, the scenery is beautiful, and everybody at the shows were awesome. There was almost a stabbing at an after party one night, but I was completely uninvolved. I try to stay away from stabbing, but who knows. It may have to happen one day.

The next batch of shows was in the lovely Colorado. I have never been to the state, but I have always heard that it is beautiful, and yes it is. The most beautiful yet terrifying drives I have ever been on. Those mountain passes are nothing to laugh at, I was staring death in the face and he was without guard rails on a giant cliff. Got to kick it with the Bull*Headed and MadeUpMinds cats and had a good time. Whiskey is a hell of a drink. Can't get enough.


After a few more shows in New Mexico the three weeks was up, my couple day tour ended up going all the way to the rest. I was proud of myself, and I was glad my friends allowed me to stay. I am confident to say I gave my all in each performance, and amazingly never lost my voice. We bid farewell to the rest of the crew and it was homeward bound with The Chicharones band. On our way through the states our friend in Colorado knew we'd be coming through the area and booked us an impromptu show. We drove through the night, drank red bulls, watched the sun rise and finally, some 26 hours later we pulled back in to Portland. Clocking in with a mere 15,500 miles plus put on the rental. Not too shabby for some silly little kids.


Here I was finally at home, only not quite. Immediately had another show the night after, and then I received a call from some friends of mine (Midas Dutch) regarding a North West tour they recently booked. Turns out the headliner they had planned for wasn't going to make it and they needed a last minute fill in. Bam, back on tour. The shows were good, I had a great time seeing my friends in Washington and causing havoc on the beautiful peninsula.

Finally, a few more days home. A couple scattered Portland shows and then it was off again. Another week run to California, this time with my good friends Sarx & Name The Uncanny. This tour was booked on the whim and didn't look like it was going to happen, then some things came through and it looked like it would logistically work, and it did. We survived, we had good shows and met more amazing people.


Then it happened. In my silly whiskey binging in San Luis Obispo, we were too lazy to strap our stuff to the roof so we just crammed it all in the front seat and went to our destination. I decided I wouldn't bring my suitcase in, and then I must have left the door unlocked. It was very much to my horror when I came outside the next day to not see a suitcase. My everything was in there, merchandise, clothing, toothbrush. Everything. That merchandise was my means to make money to eat. But oh well, the show must go on. I brushed it off with a "that sucks" and we went on our way, trailblazers.

We ended the run in Vallejo, CA. Now when I was told we were playing Vallejo, I was a bit nervous. "We're playing Vallejo?....which exit? Central? uh oh" However it ended up being up in a suburban cut I don't think most people know exists in Vallejo. So I was wrong, we rocked the party and everyone had a great time.

(Blue Moon & The Good Sir Jameson)

After 10 hours in the car today, all I can say is when is the next one? I feel at home on the road, like it's my natural environment. I survive my regular life on the bare necessities, take me out there and I flourish. Although I miss it I am glad to be home, take some downtime to get this album done and ready for your listening. Then the mission is to go even further, more places and people I have yet to see. Oh the delight of the never ending bender.