Richmond, VA
Wednesday, October 28th, 2008
Miles traveled today – about 300 so far
Days until election night – 6
1:07 a.m. – Between Richmond and Youngstown
There are fifteen hundred young people in front of the stage: some are students at Virginia Commonwealth University and some just there because they heard rumors. The stage is a mere 9’ x 9’ platform elevated three-and-a-half feet above the ground. People twenty feet back are jumping in the air or piggy-backing on boyfriends to catch glimpses of the musicians. Earlier we had to yell at a few tree-climbers who were crouched in the bows of an Oak because the police threatened to break up the whole affair if they didn’t get down. Santogold announces Sheryl Crow and she and two of her guitarists climb onto the stage and plug in.
“It’s so great to see so many young faces out here,” she says, amplified as loud as our noise permit allows. “Faces who vote... Do you believe in hope?”
There is a massive cheer. It’s like asking if you believe in happiness. Of course we do. But the guitars have started, so it sounds profound and moving.
“Do believe your voices are going to make a difference in the future of this country?”
A louder cheer. Six hundred of these kids signed a voter pledge. They are primed. And then the song starts.
Today — or technically yesterday — was our second day with Sheryl Crow and the Beastie Boys, our last day with Santogold and our first and last day with Jack Johnson, who is – and I say this as a confident heterosexual male – a total dreamboat. If you doubt my judgement here, you need only ask one of the girls who spent his set screaming in the front row.
***
Meanwhile, the bus tour crew have not quite adjusted to dealing with celebrity. We wander between star struck and star dazzled on these recent stops. We fumble over basic phrases, tiptoe past the Beastie Boys secretly hoping they ask what we thought of Paul’s Boutique, and stand staring at a spot near-but-not-too-near to Sheryl Crow as she does nothing in particular. As one of our two Chads said “What? I’ve accepted they’re better than me. Now I just want a picture.”
Yesterday, one member of our crew drove the Beastie Boys to lunch. He sat outside the restaurant while they ate. But no one told him they already had a ride home from their manager so he just kept sitting in his parked van outside the restaurant. They are terribly famous individuals. We wouldn’t want to disturb their famous lunch. And our anonymous crew member assumed that maybe famous lunches take longer than everyday lunches. So he waited for three hours before we called to tell him that the band had left.
This is how our brains have deteriorated. Our basic logic functions are melted away by the presence of big musicians. So questions that would have seemed simple to us if we were in, say, a third grade math class leave us befuddled and gibbering.
But we are acclimatizing slowly. And it’s getting late. So I’ll end suddenly here.
--Nick Brown
Miles traveled today – about 300 so far
Days until election night – 6
1:07 a.m. – Between Richmond and Youngstown
There are fifteen hundred young people in front of the stage: some are students at Virginia Commonwealth University and some just there because they heard rumors. The stage is a mere 9’ x 9’ platform elevated three-and-a-half feet above the ground. People twenty feet back are jumping in the air or piggy-backing on boyfriends to catch glimpses of the musicians. Earlier we had to yell at a few tree-climbers who were crouched in the bows of an Oak because the police threatened to break up the whole affair if they didn’t get down. Santogold announces Sheryl Crow and she and two of her guitarists climb onto the stage and plug in.
“It’s so great to see so many young faces out here,” she says, amplified as loud as our noise permit allows. “Faces who vote... Do you believe in hope?”
There is a massive cheer. It’s like asking if you believe in happiness. Of course we do. But the guitars have started, so it sounds profound and moving.
“Do believe your voices are going to make a difference in the future of this country?”
A louder cheer. Six hundred of these kids signed a voter pledge. They are primed. And then the song starts.
Today — or technically yesterday — was our second day with Sheryl Crow and the Beastie Boys, our last day with Santogold and our first and last day with Jack Johnson, who is – and I say this as a confident heterosexual male – a total dreamboat. If you doubt my judgement here, you need only ask one of the girls who spent his set screaming in the front row.
***
Meanwhile, the bus tour crew have not quite adjusted to dealing with celebrity. We wander between star struck and star dazzled on these recent stops. We fumble over basic phrases, tiptoe past the Beastie Boys secretly hoping they ask what we thought of Paul’s Boutique, and stand staring at a spot near-but-not-too-near to Sheryl Crow as she does nothing in particular. As one of our two Chads said “What? I’ve accepted they’re better than me. Now I just want a picture.”
Yesterday, one member of our crew drove the Beastie Boys to lunch. He sat outside the restaurant while they ate. But no one told him they already had a ride home from their manager so he just kept sitting in his parked van outside the restaurant. They are terribly famous individuals. We wouldn’t want to disturb their famous lunch. And our anonymous crew member assumed that maybe famous lunches take longer than everyday lunches. So he waited for three hours before we called to tell him that the band had left.
This is how our brains have deteriorated. Our basic logic functions are melted away by the presence of big musicians. So questions that would have seemed simple to us if we were in, say, a third grade math class leave us befuddled and gibbering.
But we are acclimatizing slowly. And it’s getting late. So I’ll end suddenly here.
--Nick Brown
Labels: road trip
posted by Julia at 3:18 PM
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