What do they have in common? Me, I guess.
First of all, today's major announcement is that Sixteen Winters is now available on iTunes worldwide. I've been asked by some folks outside the good ol' USA when they'll be able to order it, and I'm happy to say that day has arrived! For the rest of y'all, you can still order right here on the website, and I'll get the sale minus the pesky service fees. Down with the man! But I digress...
Back on the road again yesterday. I figured I'd get a jump on the seven hour drive to Oneonta, NY for tonight's show. I'm not a fan of driving all day just to pull up, jump out of the van, and start singing. I like things a little more laid back and relaxed. I like to take my time, breathe a little. So I started out yesterday evening at about 7pm, meaning it was full dark by the time I crossed into New York. When I say dark, I mean DARK. There's nothing on the road in upstate NY at night. It's not much more populated than rural areas out west, and it was cloudy. Except for my headlights, it was pitch black. That's when I saw El Chubacabra. Or something... It was eating a dead animal on the side of the road. When I came around the bend, it dropped it and ran from the right shoulder, across the road and into the median where I lost it in the darkness. I only saw it for a split second, Not sure I've ever seen anything move that fast. It was there, and then it was gone. Just a mammoth black shadow with reflective eyes.
Every hair on my body stood straight up. I pondered pulling over and grabbing my flashlight, then I thought that might be a really stupid idea, so I didn't.
Shortly after that, I86 was closed, and the detour signs took me through the sleepy little town of Salamanca, NY. I needed gas, so when I saw a station, I pulled in. Their sign advertised "full service at no extra charge". Sure enough, the moment I opened the van door I was very pleasantly greeted by a Seneca kid in a pair of coveralls who let me know in no uncertain terms that his huge smile was not a load of crap, he truly enjoyed helping people. He just sits out there all night with his lawn chair and his little boom box, and pumps gas for anybody who drives up. As he was pumping gas and scrubbing my windshield to within an inch of its life, he noticed my Ramones t-shirt and his eyes lit up like the fourth of July. What should have been a five minute stop turned into fifteen, as he was just too damned nice for me NOT to take time out for a discussion on the finer points of Rocket To Russia.
His Ramones knowledge being so formidable, I figured he might have plenty to say on other subjects too, so I asked him if he had any knowledge of a local Chubacabra. I'll say this for him, he didn't bat an eyelash. He just asked what it looked like. When I recounted my tale of terror and surprise at the sight of the roadside corpse muncher, he looked thoughtful for a minute, then said "It was probably a bear". I said no, I've seen a lot of bears. At about one third the size of my van this was way too big to be a bear, and it moved WAY too fast. He said "man, that's weird. Good thing you didn't stop." But I'll note again, he did not look surprised, and did not act at all like I might be nuts. That's one of the things I love about this country's native populations. They are not so quick to disbelieve when somebody says they saw something really freaky.
After that, I figured this kid would know more about the area than I did, so I asked him about nearby hotels. A more honest salesman I've never met. He said I could go back down the road to the casino, and he'd get some of the money, but it was way too expensive, and he didn't like ripping people off. He then suggested I go knock on his friend's door. Seems his friend owns a local steakhouse, and rents out rooms upstairs from the dining room. I thanked him for the offer, but decided to move on a little further down the road. As I was getting back in the van, he called out "be careful bro, you never what's out here at night". I thought he might finally be having a little fun at my expense, but I noticed as I pulled away from the stoplight that he'd moved his chair inside...
First of all, today's major announcement is that Sixteen Winters is now available on iTunes worldwide. I've been asked by some folks outside the good ol' USA when they'll be able to order it, and I'm happy to say that day has arrived! For the rest of y'all, you can still order right here on the website, and I'll get the sale minus the pesky service fees. Down with the man! But I digress...
Back on the road again yesterday. I figured I'd get a jump on the seven hour drive to Oneonta, NY for tonight's show. I'm not a fan of driving all day just to pull up, jump out of the van, and start singing. I like things a little more laid back and relaxed. I like to take my time, breathe a little. So I started out yesterday evening at about 7pm, meaning it was full dark by the time I crossed into New York. When I say dark, I mean DARK. There's nothing on the road in upstate NY at night. It's not much more populated than rural areas out west, and it was cloudy. Except for my headlights, it was pitch black. That's when I saw El Chubacabra. Or something... It was eating a dead animal on the side of the road. When I came around the bend, it dropped it and ran from the right shoulder, across the road and into the median where I lost it in the darkness. I only saw it for a split second, Not sure I've ever seen anything move that fast. It was there, and then it was gone. Just a mammoth black shadow with reflective eyes.
Every hair on my body stood straight up. I pondered pulling over and grabbing my flashlight, then I thought that might be a really stupid idea, so I didn't.
Shortly after that, I86 was closed, and the detour signs took me through the sleepy little town of Salamanca, NY. I needed gas, so when I saw a station, I pulled in. Their sign advertised "full service at no extra charge". Sure enough, the moment I opened the van door I was very pleasantly greeted by a Seneca kid in a pair of coveralls who let me know in no uncertain terms that his huge smile was not a load of crap, he truly enjoyed helping people. He just sits out there all night with his lawn chair and his little boom box, and pumps gas for anybody who drives up. As he was pumping gas and scrubbing my windshield to within an inch of its life, he noticed my Ramones t-shirt and his eyes lit up like the fourth of July. What should have been a five minute stop turned into fifteen, as he was just too damned nice for me NOT to take time out for a discussion on the finer points of Rocket To Russia.
His Ramones knowledge being so formidable, I figured he might have plenty to say on other subjects too, so I asked him if he had any knowledge of a local Chubacabra. I'll say this for him, he didn't bat an eyelash. He just asked what it looked like. When I recounted my tale of terror and surprise at the sight of the roadside corpse muncher, he looked thoughtful for a minute, then said "It was probably a bear". I said no, I've seen a lot of bears. At about one third the size of my van this was way too big to be a bear, and it moved WAY too fast. He said "man, that's weird. Good thing you didn't stop." But I'll note again, he did not look surprised, and did not act at all like I might be nuts. That's one of the things I love about this country's native populations. They are not so quick to disbelieve when somebody says they saw something really freaky.
After that, I figured this kid would know more about the area than I did, so I asked him about nearby hotels. A more honest salesman I've never met. He said I could go back down the road to the casino, and he'd get some of the money, but it was way too expensive, and he didn't like ripping people off. He then suggested I go knock on his friend's door. Seems his friend owns a local steakhouse, and rents out rooms upstairs from the dining room. I thanked him for the offer, but decided to move on a little further down the road. As I was getting back in the van, he called out "be careful bro, you never what's out here at night". I thought he might finally be having a little fun at my expense, but I noticed as I pulled away from the stoplight that he'd moved his chair inside...