Wednesday August 8 2012


Alarm goes off at 9:30 a.m.

Picking up Elliott from 16th street.


Elliott: “Dogs are funny. They’re just like humans man.”

Me: “No they’re not. They’re dogs! What are you talking about?”

Elliott: “They act like humans. They can act like humans pretty well.”

Me: “You ever stop to think that maybe humans act like dogs?”

Elliott: “No cause humans are superior beings.”

Me: “You’re such a capitalist.”


We spot a dog chilling in the back of a pickup truck. Talking about the dangers of this scenario and how easily the dog could be tossed out from a bump in the road.

“I wonder what sound a dog would make if that happened?”

“It doesn’t bark. It would scream like a human.”



This becomes a running joke...

What sound does a dog make falling out of a pickup truck?


Referring to my green box Elliott says, “What’s in there?”

Me: “That’s my snack box!”

Mockingly he responds, “Is that where you keep all your peaches and shit? Why can’t you be a normal American and eat Doritos?”

Me: “Haha. Yeah, Elliott. Why don’t I just be a normal American and get cancer?”

White Peach. Plum. Donut. Coconut Water.

We meet up in front of The Naro with Wesley, Emily, Monica, and Kenny. Now we’re New York bound...bound for adventures in the big apple. Suburban Living show tomorrow but tonight we kick it.


It’s been a while since I’ve sat in a big 15-passenger van like this, not since the touring days with Mae. Feeling somewhat nostalgic. After some invigorating jokes and comedy over the Bay Bridge Tunnel I slip into the back of the van and make myself a comfy spot with all the blankets and sleeping bags.

Wes: “Where’d Robert go?”

Someone responds, “He’s in the back.”

Wes: “What’s he doing?”

Emily: “Probably being a weirdo.”

Elliott: “Mae dudes.”

Wes: “Mae dudes.”

Valero gas station stop on the Eastern Shore.

I observe Emily glued to her iPhone, “What are you doing? Lost in a glow face world.”

Emily: “What else would I be doing?”

Me: “Looking at the world around you.”

She stops and takes a quick opportunity to glance around, “It sucks.”


Back on the road.

Another stop at a Wawa. While some place orders on the touch screens there’s a little bit of confusion...

Me: “It’s like a choose your own adventure book.”


Back on the road.

Napping in the back. Wake up.

Stop along the New Jersey Turnpike.

Iced Coffee with Soymilk and Honey from Starbucks.


Arriving in Brooklyn, New York.

Walking along Bedford Avenue – me with scooter in hand – Elliott with pogo stick in hand – Emily and Wesley on foot. After quite a long and strenuous stroll we settle in a café called Fabiane’s.

Roasted Eggplant Sandwich with Caramelized Onions and Pesto. Salad Greens.

We discover a huge congregation of people sitting on blankets and lawn chairs inside McCarren Park. They’re showing Top Gun on a big screen. This is quite the scene. It’s almost like a festival.

A friend of ours invites us to a show at this venue called Muchmore’s on 9th and Columbus. Elliott and I pop a squat along the steps of a catholic church across the street and chug down our tallboys.

Me: “I feel comfortable here. I think I could see myself living here in Brooklyn for a time. The people are much nicer than expected, unlike all the agro kids back in Virginia Beach.”

He practices his pogo tricks and draws the attention of a lady named Tiana who asks to take photos.

We join the show inside the venue and watch Rifle Recoil perform a riveting set to a packed medium sized studio room – fog saturating the air.

Our friend Angelica that plays in a band called Body Language lets us stay at her apartment on Dean street. It’s hot as balls in here but the cute kitten provides a mild source of entertainment. Stripping down to the bare minimum of clothing and bracing the heat.

Sleep 3 a.m.

[i] All images by me.

No comments: