Eating Dicks has been our go-to unfunny joke since Patrick and Paul bailed on a night of drinking in favor of hamburgers and sleep. How much Dicks can they eat? Five. They eat five Dicks between the two of them.
Seattle was awesome. Weird show at the Vera project, but AWESOME bands. Strong Killings have incredible energy and bring it hard. Ships are, in addition to prolific drinkers, rock solid dudes, and a fantastic band. Such pop hooks! We drink too much, and have adventures of a questionable variety which I'll not discuss here.
Patrick's uncle puts us up in his man cave with a toilet seat that puts itself down.
In the morning we head out for Spokane. Paul's driving, and heading up into Snoqualamie Pass he asks jokingly if anyone has the Twin Peaks soundtrack. Serendipity steps in, as patrick was Special Agent Dale Cooper for Halloween and has the whole soundtrack on his iPhone (he
had it playing in his pocket all night) and we barrel up and over the pass, those twin peaks rising like ghosts above us.
Down into the plains of Central Washington and it's cold and windy. There really is almost nothing here, for as far as you can see. A lonesome train blows by.
We finally make Spokane. What a place.
"There are so many homeless people here!" Chelsea says.
"Well, we're at a bus station," replies Noah.
We've got an hour before load in, so we roll down to The Game, Spokane's awesomest sports bar, and catch some of the Heat/Celtics (Heat look like crap, but at least LeBron puts in a solid game for my fantasy team). Decent gardenburger, too.
Tonight's show is fantastic. Tons of folks come out, including this awesome dude, who dances literally non-stop, the whole time. Including to the overhead music the venue plays between bands. He has brought his own tambourine.
You can hear Champion Birdwatchers in the background of that video, playing their first show in 10 years! They totally kill it. So do Velella Velella, who have us dancing in spite of the sleep shortages and hangovers all around. (picture attached)
Heading back to Michael from Velella Velella's parents' place, we are pulled over for the first (and ONLY) time. Paul is driving, and charms the policeman with his accent and foreign mannerisms. The cop politely gives him a field sobriety test, which he politely passes, the rest of
us sniggering drunkenly in the van.
We're too late to load up on Dicks, so we hit Jack in the Box. It's really a bummer that you can't get any Dicks after 1 am in Spokane.
In the morning, Michael makes us pancakes and tater tots and coffee—officially the best dude ever. At Guitar Center, picking up a capo and guitar stand, we hear slap bass and guitar shredding, but disappointingly, I am not called "bro" even once. That place has really gone to shit.
We hit a thrift store before leaving town and Chelsea finds this really great jacket!
And now we're just outside of Pendleton, where we're playing tonight. She's sparkling ahead of us, and I need to pull up directions!