But I'll return someday with newfound determination. It did not take long for us to start driving towards Georgia and Tallahassee. All my pleasures in Asheville afterwards were meager ones-microwave egg rolls that didn't make me throw up, a man who looked like the older brother from Malcolm in the Middle. We finally ended up aside an old-fashioned bed and breakfast, in the town still I guess? In that moment, I understood Pat's line "sitting alone at a punk show in Asheville," even when Asheville's sensibilities seem so close to your own, that you can't find any young people to talk to. "Is it because I don't listen to enough Saddle Creek?" I wondered why downtown Asheville seemed so elusive.
But the area surrounded nondescript intersections and suburbs for aging hippies. After sitting in the tailgate parking, searching through maps and phones, and fumbling with an acoustic guitar for about a hour, we started driving again. We arrived in Asheville and on their university's campus.
#No future wingnut dishwashers union lyrics free
If you don't have plans, at least know somewhere you can sleep free from interference.īut we'd just been through Pennsylvania and Stephen was getting sick, and we were both tired enough to believe we'd find our friends, and could find all these addresses once we'd found downtown. CHECK YOUR SHIT! Be sure you've always got final plans with your friends-especially if they're known for leaving town at a moment's notice. I'm only recounting these awesome places because our eventual fate didn't match them, and as a cautionary tale to travelers.
You could say visions of patchouli-smelling fairies danced in my head. She recalled a late night at nearby Turtleback Falls, where she'd passed through ranger security and camped with friends right on the waterfalls, and it all sounded fantastic to me. She even gave us a number to call on Tuesdays if we wanted to play kickball and drink beer with Asheville strangers. If we couldn't afford that, dumpster diving in Citi Bakery could provide some salvageable chow too. Izzy's and Firestorm Cafe would have good coffee and Rosetta's had cheap vegetarian food. I talked to Samantha at least about Asheville before the trip, and she revealed all the coolest locales downtown. On our way down from New York we decided to pass through Asheville in hopeful notions of finding our friends. Our folk-friends Samantha and Andrea were also staying in the city at the time. Her parents should have seen the warning signs when she started listening to Bright Eyes records-but they didn't- and last I heard she's living in an Asheville commune. My parent's closest friends have a daughter Erica, who never fit comfortably in her own family's Christian military, Niceville-Florida scene. Because once I ended up alone in Asheville somewhere far less interesting.Īsheville, like Athens in Georgia, is a capital for liberal-minded, progressive people in a small state. It's a throwaway line that resonates with me most though- a line about being alone at a punk show in Asheville, NC. DOWNLOADERS- If you like Mischief Brew, Andrew Jackson Jihad, or Ghost Mice and Chris Clavin's other projects, definitely download!ĮVERYONE ELSE- Pat mentions a couple different cities in his songs, most notably in "For A Girl in Rhinelander, WI" where they don't have Bikini Kill records. I like Never Trust a Man most because it's just Pat's screams and his acoustic guitar. He turns urination into an heartfelt statement on perseverence and rebellion, and convincingly parallels Jesus to a folk-punker peacenik "turning water into space bag." He sings with an impassioned rasp, like a friend's who been talking to you with intense emotion for hours, now reaching his heights, and won't let a faltering voice stop him now that he's got to shout. Pat has a real knack for crafting inventive metaphors within his lyrics. Never Trust a Man turned out to possibly be the best album I've ever bought without hearing a note. She of course holds up a sign saying, "Beet the System!" Inside there's small footnotes and Pat's own scribbling of a girl in a beet field. I bought Never Trust A Man Who Plays Guitar at Gainesville's Wayward Council, just because I recognized the album name and where else was I ever going to find it? The album comes in a piece of paper folded like a children's fortune-teller. Pat recently entered a year-long rehab program, and I wish him a speedy recovery. This entry's about a favorite-Wingnut Dishwasher's Union and singer Pat the Bunny-and North Carolina. I'm eager to write again, though, and the new month seems as good a moment as any. It's been so long since I've updated! I've been busy with school this semester.
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