More awesome gas station finds

Sega UFO Catcher.

OF COURSE!
I wanted that damn Garfield. He was taunting me with those eyes.

Nothing screams, "Hey, truck driver, you need this!" more than a couple of 3-D wildlife posters. Where is the one with the wolf attacking the puppies?

You think the patriot who picks up this hat prefers green tea or jasmine? Wait, it's the south, they probably enjoy sweet tea. That's pretty obvious, right?

Motorcycle Boots!!!!!
I bet the The Techno Viking would need motorcycle boots.

Techno Viking you ask?
Welcome To The Thunderdome

Wait for it!!!!!

I said WAIT!

Alright, we may proceed. As the days are melting away toward the summer solstice, I need to get this here tour diary completed. By my count, I've got 4 cities to go. What I'm going to do is limit myself to a haiku for every city, that way I can be done with this and move on toward better things, like exercising. Which I very badly am in need of after a 3 week tour and all of the meat sized-deep-fried portions of meat that I ate whilst whistling Dixie and strumming me banjo. I had some fish too. Deep fried fish, dipped in meat with meat garnish and a large meat cola... Diet cola to be sure.

LOUISVILLE, KY
5.25.10

Skyline Chili Cheese
My Stomach Is Full Of You
Hideaway Was Fun

Chili 3-Ways. Great vinegar based hot sauce.

KNOXVILLE, TN
5.27.10

Bass Made out of Saab
Paging Doctor Groupie. Red
Live Blue Plate Special

I really dug the public art in Knoxville

Signaling Aliens....

...thus, Aliens read silver metal book in the fourth dimension

Told you. Bass made out of Saab -- and recycled Arkansas hardwood. Them boys was crazy, and that Bass sounded KILLER!

The name of the band from Arkansas is Cletus Got Shot. If you like your bluegrass dirty, check 'em out!

The Congress did a radio interview and performance at WDVX, an award winning community supported radio station in Knoxville. The show is called "Blue Plate Special". It's hosted by a spunky DJ named Red Hickey. Yep, that's what I said. The WDVX studios are located inside the Knoxville Chamber of Commerce. Also contained within the Knoxville Chamber of Commerce is a coffee shop, live performance stage, a plethora of blue plates with photos of various bluegrass bands and an elevator. By the time we hit the stage, there was a nice crowd of tourists that had come to have a little lunch, hear some music and experience a real, live radio broadcast in all of it's glory. I was very impressed with the whole deal and it's very pleasing to see a thriving community radio station that hasn't been absorbed, chewed up, reformatted, and spit out by Clear Channel. I think the entire band dug Knoxville quite a bit and are looking forward to going back in late September.

MEMPHIS, TN
5.30.10

Slow Cooked Pork (I don't know how to put into words the open-mouth drooling sound that Homer makes but I think that might be two syllables)

Slow Cooked Pork (Homer Drool)
Cheese Stadium Cheese Cheese Sauce
Un-Be-Liev-A-Ble

These BBQ Nachos from Central BBQ in Memphis were amazing. For $8, I ate this on three separate occasions. Of course it was refrigerated -- at least once. I heated the nachos for a third time at one of our gas station stops, making both the customers and the "fatback pig" tilt their heads toward me quizzically.

Did I fail to mention that I was on a personal food tour while The Congress was schlepping around the country "working"? Well, I was, and the proof is in the pudding. Nah, just joking; I didn't have any pudding on the trip. If I had, don't you think I would have taken a picture of it? Of course, I would have taken the picture just before I jumped in the bathtub filled with jell-o pudding, which happens to be item #72 on the "Touring For Dummies" to do list.

Memphis was great, one of the best gigs of the trip. We played at a place called The Flying Saucer right off of Beale St. All of the windows on the joint were open and we perspired right along side the receptive audience. There were even a few folks who were in attendance throughout the duration of the show, People we have no relation to; they were not friends nor foe, allies or enemies. They were entranced with the music, their bodies swaying as if possessed by something otherworldly. The ghost of Jeff Buckley? Drunk on Memphis BBQ? Bewitched by Elvis? Speedballs? Who knows? All I know is that that's the most fun I had in Memphis since the first time I was there with my buddy Wilson 10 or 11 years ago.**

CARBONDALE, IL
5.31.10

Malkovich Malko
Vich Malkovich Malkovich
Malkovich Malko

Eh, not much to talk about from Carbondale. Nice folks. It was hot. Our "authentic" Mexican food took over an hour to cook. We didn't get to eat until after we were done playing. A very nice older married couple told us they hadn't "danced this much since our first date". That made me feel good. Due to the fact I am the drummer, when I don't see people dancing I feel like I have failed as a musician. Even more troubling, I feel like I have failed as a human being. Not the type of fail that requires a handful of Xanex (is that even a relevant pharmaceutical?) and a vodka soda with a twist of lime every night after work; more like the type of fail where I wonder if there really are aliens, and if I were alien and not human, and if I played drums at a sufficient ability for the alien audience, would they dance more than humans do?

With that, I bid you adieu. I'll have one more entry to cap off our trip but for now...

FIN

**My first "fun" trip to Memphis 11 years ago:

Wilson and I, being the Rage Against The Machine idealists that we were, attended a kkk protest adjacent to the steps of the state capital building. As 20-something Caucasian males, I think we might have gotten as many dirty looks from the local protesters as we did from the actual demonstrators (although it was hard to tell if the demonstrators were looking at us as their eyes were concealed by oddly shaped pointy cloth hats, hats that clearly impeded their judgment as much as their vision). We were threatened a few times and we were on the verge of getting shot with tear gas by the Memphis police. I was told at one point by the gentleman I was standing next to, "you boys are in the wrong place!" So much for solidarity. I looked to the rooftops and saw snipers attentively scouring the crowd. With bullhorn in hand, the demonstrators began mocking Martin Luther King's "I Have A Dream" speech. Needless to say, the crowds patience started to wane and we felt it was a good decision to depart the premises before emotions escalated and violence erupted. I believe we immediately regrouped at a restaurant and I took solace in a tower of onion rings -- a tower of solidarity onion rings, I should say...

Where am I?

Yeeeeaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Back home, foos! Well, kind of home. I mean, I don't actually live anywhere right now. It reminds me of being on the road as I'm not quite sure exactly I'll end up on a nightly basis but I pretty much feel like I'll figure it out as the day moves along. Camping is a viable option, so are Wal-Mart parking lots. Perhaps a Wal-Mart parking lot followed by a visit to a 24 hour fitness parking lot. I can support evil corporations that put independent business owners out of work as well as grabbing a jog and a lift and a shower. Like this guy!



How's that for optimism?

op-ti-mism

–noun

1.

a disposition or tendency to look on the more favorable side of events or conditions and to expect the most favorable outcome.

Like I said, I'm back home. Meaning, that I'm painfully behind on this update thing. Deal with it. I have a certain set of conditions that need to be met before I put finger to key. In no particular order:

• Time
  

That's not exactly true, I have another set of requirements:

• Independent wealth
  
• Motivation (money)
  
• Gold!
  

I think I last told you I was going to talk about the bustling troposphere of Jackson, Mississippi. Here it is in picture word form:

Love me some Fat Back

Across the street from Old Tavern on George, where The Congress played in Jackson

Um... Yeah...

Ladies and Gentleman, I'd like to introduce Robbie "The Entertainer" Peoples:

I actually think that this picture sums up what Robbie "The Entertainer" Peoples is all about. It wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me to go on talkin about this nice southern folk. Let's just say that Robbie "The Entertainer" Peoples lives up to his name... and some, and a little more + a little bit. Like sweet tea that's too sweet -- mixed with way too much whiskey.

The first time I saw this guy in Colorado, he was wearing a white suit, playing a mean harp, and making the ladies swoon with his infectious energy (sweet tea) and slow southern drawl (whiskey). The last time I saw him, he had a shy southern bell licking his bare chest as we sweated our ass off in the non air conditioned band house behind the Ole Tavern. The night of rest turned out to be pleasantly uncomfortable as the four of us managed to catch some shut eye skilfully adjacent to a industrial fan that was on warp speed.

We had a blast in Jackson and can't wait to go back. I ate some fried catfish in Mississippi, which, unbeknownst to me, is the catfish capitol of the whole dang world. It was good. It was battered and fried, seasoned and salted. That combination generally doesn't fail. Unless it does.

Following a sweaty stint in Mississippi, we headed up I-65 North to Nashville for a half day of rest before and a subsequent Monday evening performance at 3rd & Lindsley bar and grill which is a beautiful room with great sound. We had a modest but enthusiastic crowd that listened intently and applauded our every move (my family was there). We were done by 9pm which was strange to us as we are generally just loading in at that time of night. The Congress had a free night off in Nashville. Uh-Oh, what does that mean?

KARAOKE!!!

If Dwight looks like he's singing a Vegas show tune, he most likely is.

Ole red beard crushing some country crap I've never heard.

Fortunately for me and unfortunately for you, I don't think there are any pictures of my mad karaoke ability. You see, my serious lack of singing talent is made up for by a hell of a stage performance complete with kicks, crowd points, multiple index finger come-hither(s) and poor, poor falsetto (which works particularly well when attempting songs by The Police). I'd like to take top idiot award for the night but Scott's amazing version of Seal's "Kiss From A Rose" can instantly impregnate women from a block and a half away. In addition to creating life, his ear piercing final chorus vocal explosion could be used as a strategic weapon by the military to drive out stubborn Central American drug lords after a 47 hour stand off.

Alright, kids. I'm going to depart the rigatoni (Roll your R's!!!) tubes of the interweb so I can walk up stairs from the incredible green room at The Ghost Ranch Saloon in Steamboat Springs, Colorado. This place is pretty awesome. It's in the mountains, they fed us really good food and there is a piano autographed by every band/artist/party crasher/server that has stepped foot in this room. I will now take a picture of the piano and post it. It's a real time update, kind of a like a twitter but not as stupid or important, depending on how you look at such things.

Damn, I'm getting off track. I still have Louisville, Knoxville, Memphis and Carbondale to cover before The Congress gets home... even though we are home. We'll, I'm not home, even though I am home. Colorado is home, for now -- because I like the flag and the mountains... and The Broncos but I'm not sure about Tebow.

Aurevoir