Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Vantastic

We blew a tire on a stretch of I-5, simultaneously ripping through my contemplation of cherry orchards and vacations, the rubber to the rim (bending irreparably), and our best intentions to speed along to San Diego without delay. Geoff expertly guided the van out of traffic as semis zipped by. Immediately after coming to a halt we all piled out and headed for spare tire, the iron, a jack. Within moments it was discovered that the jack did not fit the bolts and I whipped out my AAA card so someone could dial them for roadside assistance. Meanwhile, the smartphones got to work locating us more accurately than between the orchard on one side of the highway and ranch land on the other. Others of those little brains came up with a list of tire places, their phone numbers and locations.

Pretty soon we were seated in the tall grass beside the van (I think I failed to mention before but it's a Dodge Ram 1500 with a small trailer attached) waiting for AAA, some of us gladly grabbing a celebratory beer that no one was grumpy or impatient, that we were in the sun, and that Geoff had steered our wounded chariot so expertly out of danger. Aura and I spent some time celebrating how much better breaking down now was with friends- so much more calm, assured and easygoing.

While the mood was the best we’d ever experienced over a busted tire, it’s not a minor problem to have faced. The cost of a new tire is $120 without installation or rim, and we have little spare time to wait to change it. When we arrived at the first shop that supposedly had our size, we found they’d misspoken. Checking the time, and realizing that we would just barely make it to the show to set up, we decided to risk it on the spare.

Another issue that came up that day was line-up. A miscommunication and we got bumped from third to fourth. The day before, we’d almost lost our direct support (band just before the headliner), and Ryan had to exchange a number of phone calls to preserve the set time. He works really hard to set up these tours, with months’ worth of emails and conference calling beforehand. He also takes a lot of the negotiating pressure, and without an agent or booker like other bands, that is a tall order.

Touring with other bands though ends up being a good thing. The people in the other vehicles (usually 16 passenger vans, or SUVs pulling a trailer) know what the situation is. Olin and the Moon had to replace brakes for $500 in Eugene, and Or, the Whale’s van actually caught on fire 3 hours into a previous tour. When we arrived that night to the venue, haggard from 10 hours on the road, members from both bands commiserated with the day and offered to share drums and bass to facilitate set-up. They also stayed to the very end of the show and the H&H’s last song.

We immediately broke down after the show and headed to bed. Geoff and Devon went with his older sister, and the rest of us to Aura’s parents house nestled in the hills 30 minutes from the venue.

The place that Aura grew up in is a Victorian-style kooky place designed and built by her dad (a Jewish man from New Jersey) over the span of 10 years. From floor to ceiling on every wall, the place displays the handiwork of her dad with mini model/figurine building, pottery, woodcarving, and painting. He also collects a number of things including crystals, bugs, small vertebrate skeletons, travel trinkets and craft ware, and movie and music paraphernalia. It’s a veritable museum of oddities, and one can spend hours poking about the corners of the space. The next morning, Aura’s mom made us the perfect cup of green tea, and her dad told us the history of his house and collections.

Try as we could to get a replacement tire for our spare, San Diego on Sunday was closed for such business. We loaded up once more and raced to the Sattelite in LA on our spare.

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