Monday January 9 2012 (SOUTHAMPTON)


DREAM: I’ve just moved into a new house. A roommate that I’ve never met before along with my dad moves in with me. Decorating pictures and sheets on the walls. Clearing out a garage trailer of some kind parked out front. Finding numerous antique toys and other household items.

Taking the ferry from Calais to Dover.

English Breakfast: Scrambled Eggs. Potato Cakes. Toast and Jam. Orange Juice.


Crossing the English Channel again. The surface of the water tilting the ship left and right. Thinking about friends and attachments back home—they feel like unbreakable ropes a thousand miles long. I want to take advantage of this space, this break from what I would call reality. This tour has been dreamy and hazy. Distance gains you perspective and I don't wish to waste the opportunity.


Back in the van and through the UK border. Napping. Listening to music. Sam, our English driver, and Graham, our Scottish tour manager are quite a pair. They’ve been doing UK/European tours for a long time and have plenty of stories in their arsenal. It’s entertaining to listen to their interaction from the back—their sarcastic wit and playful humor never stops.


Pit stop. Coffee and a Belgium Sweet Bun. Sitting down at a table discussing our tour stories and frustrations with the birds, as Sam and Graham refer to girls as. I'm not as crude and brute as some guys are. Sam takes notice.

Sam: “You’re a gentlemen aren’t you?”

Me: “I guess so.”

Arriving in Southhampton. It resembles Philadelphia with its dirty sidewalks, plethora of storefronts, and shady characters roaming the streets. We have a couple hours to kill before sound check so we trek to the downtown shopping district. This is a university town to which a lot of college kids abound, especially the Brit birds. They’re scattered all over the place.

Me: “They love to shop. This is their haven...their nest...and we built it.”

It’s fun to people watch and get a glimpse. But it’s probably the same story...flashy appearances but inside living a dull life. That’s why they’re here buying things. I buy a new pair of pants and undies from H&M myself.

They let us into the venue. It’s grimy and ranks of pukey bathroom. Not the better of the clubs we’ve played. But Coldplay and Oasis performed here years ago before they hit the big time. So it has some history.

Fish and Chips for dinner. For only £4.90 you get a huge cod fillet and plenty of french fries.

Lounging around in the green room.

Sipping on a Pear Cider—chatting with people at the bar.


On stage. It’s incredibly hot and sweaty and packed with kids. The crowd is super hyped—singing along and dancing. Positive vibes.

Afterwards, sharing a few beers with the rowdy college guy fans. We transfer our happenings to a famed pub in the area called The Hobbit...

There. It’s all Middle Earth themed (Lord of the Rings) and with a spacious patio garden in the backyard. Sharing beers and good times. Sitting down on a bench engaging in an invigorating conversation with this British girl, Roxy, about activism and consumerism and veganism and being frugal. She’s friends with Dave, the tour manager of Rookie of the Year. I met her earlier before at the venue. She’s completely on the right track of mind with these ideas.

Me: “It’s really great to meet people who are thinking about these things too, especially in another country.”

Her accent is attractive, but most of them are. I don’t know what else it is but I’m extremely intrigued. She’s very pretty—thick and long curly hair. Bright red lips. Black tights covering two tattoos above each knee. Adorable eyes. I shouldn’t be this observant but who can help it when you’re confronted with such an attractive piece of existence. A vegan and alcohol-free, which shows she has discipline. A networker. She talks with maturity and mental experience. Even if no romance comes from this I’ve gained a new connection.

Time to leave. Walking back to the hotel. Roxy leads the way. Drunken stragglers from other pubs hobble down the street. I slip Roxy a quick hug goodbye and she catches a taxi to wherever. And that’s that.


Relaxing in the lobby. Dave and Jacob are eating Dominos Pizza and talking about the future of Mae, potential international runs and releases. Dave formally thanks me for my part in Mae over the years and for being so musically focused. It’s good to know I’m appreciated by this project.

Me: “It’s been an honor.”

Sleep sometime around 4 a.m.

[i] All images by me.

No comments: