LEILANI HERE.
I was going through my computer's archives and came across this old blog, which got me thinking . . . golly it's been a long time since anything was posted here. I supposed I should sit down and compose something new about the album Astra Heights is presently recording with Brian Irwin . . . or post some video footage I shot at Swinghouse . . . or divulge some scintillating secrets about band members' dark predilections . . . But that would take time, and I'm after immediate gratification at the moment. So, feeling nostalgic, I'll just re-post this oldie but goodie, from summer of 2007. Feels like a lifetime ago, which it has been in so many ways . . .
SUMMER 2007:
Mark and Timmy were subletting off of Melrose (remember the lost cat?). James and Joshua were living on Flores Street . . . Joshua was still in the band! I was living in a little green house on Carson Street . . . and I think this might have been one of the first times we hit the road with Melanie.
So Ladies and gentlemen,
What feels like ages ago I had the pleasure and honor of joining Astra Heights for a two-night excursion to the Bay Area, to play at the Rock It Room. Mark, James, Joshua, Timothy and I drove up late Friday night, with tour manager Melanie at the wheel. We slept in Berkeley at friend Chloe’s apartment, spent Saturday hanging out, went to San Francisco for the afternoon, hooked up with Bernard and did the show Saturday night, and then, after huevos rancheros, we all hit the road together for our return home. Here’s what I learned:
1. The Rock It Room. I discovered a Bay-area predilection for naming stores and such with puns. Happy Tails Dog Walking Services. Seconds-to-Go Resale Shop. Off the Wall art-poster shop. Pipe Dreams smoking accessories (on Haight Street). Revival of the Fittest curios and antiques. Hot Cookie bakery. Friendly Spirits wine shop. What’s up with that, I wonder.
2. Siblings can get along. The Morales brothers seem really nice to each other. They seem to really like each other, which is weird . . . They bickered once on the way to Berkeley, about food I think it was, and it was so mild-mannered that it took me a while to even realize that they were bickering. “You call that bickering?” I wanted to ask. “C’mon!” There was one space to sleep in the van on the way back, in the back of the cab. They took turns and traded time back there, with attention to what was right and fair, like they were friends or something, not siblings. If it had been my sister and me, we’d still be bitching about who got to spend more time sleeping. And there was not one quibble about riding shotgun—not a single one..
3. Food is a central feature of life on tour. On the way up I ate a bag of Snap Peas, a chocolate bar, some oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, an In’N Out burger with fries, a root beer, a vanilla shake, and . . . on Saturday we went to breakfast at La Note café in Berkeley, and had eggs and pancakes and sausages and “lemon water” and coffee. For dinner we had a sushi extravaganza at “We Be Sushi,” on Valencia. After the show, we had lots and lots and lots of pizza at Cable Car Pizza—you can check out pictures of it on the Astra Heights blog. The last morning we had huevos rancheros. On the ride home I ate banana chips, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, a bag of Sun Chips, and two lattes.
4. Another important event of daily life on tour is taking a shit. Each Morales brother has to take a big shit at the same time twice a day, on the earlier side of things. We were staying in an apartment with one bathroom, so that meant that there was a lot of discussion about the pecking order to shit-taking (poor Timmy always went last), the etiquette of shit-taking (Timothy defiantly refuses to courtesy flush), and the lethality of the shit taken (popular opinion holds that Joshua’s wins).
5. The tighter the jeans, the better. You don’t need me to tell you that. You’ve seen the pictures.
6. Dropping a deuce is a euphemism for taking a poop.
7. It’s a good idea to bring your own coffee on tour. Chloe’s apartment didn’t have any . . . but Bernard Yin did! Years on the road have taught him well. You never do know whether you’re going to find a Starbucks in time to save yourself.
8. Rumor has it that in Berkeley, it is illegal to smoke in public anywhere. Anywhere—like on the sidewalk, outside a restaurant, walking down the street. This militancy fascinated Timmy and me. We kept a close lookout for the Fuzz and never strayed far from the little subversive gatherings of smoked butts we’d locate here and there.
9. No matter where you are, or what you’re doing, tour manager Melanie is around somewhere to make sure everything’s okay. When you need to know load-in times, text Melanie. If you’re running late, call Melanie—she can cover for you, because she’s always on time. Need to make a plan, check directions, hit the road, make an itinerary—go to Melanie. And she’s not even Type A.
10. Never fart in the tour van. Or, if you must, first confirm that everyone’s not farting at the same time. You could kill somebody that way.
11. Bassist James Morales can curl up into a ball like a kitten and maintain that position for six hours at night on a five-foot-wide loveseat.
12. I don’t remember San Francisco as well as I thought I did. I got us lost, precipitating a frenzy of .map-grabbing that reminded me of King Arthur and Excalibur. He who draws the sword will be king. Some of us were overcome by the irresistible compulsion to put our two cents in even when we had no idea where the heck we were. That would be me until the lead singer kindly told me to shut up. I can’t decide whether it was a good or bad thing that Bernard wasn’t in the van at the time. James and Timmy were the ones who managed to get us un-lost. Thanks, guys.
13. You will know drummer Joshua Morales is tipsy if he starts dancing.
14. Wearing sunglasses indoors or at night is a controversial style choice for certain members of Astra Heights. But, Timmy, we hope you forge ahead. You are Cool. Cool like the Fonz was cool, but cooler because you’re cool now and always will be. Quite a sight was the youngest band member, strutting through SF in his vest and reflective sunglasses, his hips rolling like a lion’s. He wears those sunglasses with a savoir faire unseen since the heydey of Lou Reed. He’s got it goin’ on! Or, to borrow one of his expressions—I dig it, man, like I’m diggin’ outta prison.
So I learned a lot. Suffice it to say that it was fabulous fun—good music, good laughs, and great company.
YAY Astra Heights!
