Hotlanta Bound
The Purple Fiddle is truly an musical and cultural oasis - thanks to John and Kate (the owners) for creating this unique and friendly place and for having us.
Everyone on stage at the Fiddle:
Directlty after the show we packed our gear and headed for a midnight run to Atlanta (600 miles). The Bluebird chugged along and Jeremy was a valiant pilot in the face of dark hairpin turns and fog that seemed to appear and disappear with no discernable pattern. Cat napping through the roar of the engine and the sassy sway of the bus. The dawn shift found Jay and Andy Laird on a 4-hour sunrise run through southern West Virginia. Outlines of mountains bathed in mist slowly emerging, taking shape. No one on the road but truckers and a few road-weary musicians, most of them trying to catch a few winks. 7am brought a fatigue that almost had Jay tagging out (even after 40 ounces of coffee) before Andy and Jay began to talk in that way that only happens at the time, on the road, spinning ideas and tales and global thought, sweeping amateur philosophy, outside of time -always an intensely intimate moment. If this journey is about nothing else it is about getting to know each other in a way that only comes from busular cohabitation, sunrise runs, and sharing our music, our passion every day, together. Then a greasy spoon and back on the road. We are pulling into Atlanta now (HOTlanta baby!) with Jeremy at the helm, hungry for another crowd, another set. Nat (guitar) returns to the tour today, Dave (sax) is back home until next week and we have missed them both. Though the banjo fit right in, it might have been a violation of a county statute to play the sax in the town we were played in last night. Hotlanta, now that is another story. Until tomorrow bloggers and bloggettes....
On the way to Atlanta:
Everyone on stage at the Fiddle:
Directlty after the show we packed our gear and headed for a midnight run to Atlanta (600 miles). The Bluebird chugged along and Jeremy was a valiant pilot in the face of dark hairpin turns and fog that seemed to appear and disappear with no discernable pattern. Cat napping through the roar of the engine and the sassy sway of the bus. The dawn shift found Jay and Andy Laird on a 4-hour sunrise run through southern West Virginia. Outlines of mountains bathed in mist slowly emerging, taking shape. No one on the road but truckers and a few road-weary musicians, most of them trying to catch a few winks. 7am brought a fatigue that almost had Jay tagging out (even after 40 ounces of coffee) before Andy and Jay began to talk in that way that only happens at the time, on the road, spinning ideas and tales and global thought, sweeping amateur philosophy, outside of time -always an intensely intimate moment. If this journey is about nothing else it is about getting to know each other in a way that only comes from busular cohabitation, sunrise runs, and sharing our music, our passion every day, together. Then a greasy spoon and back on the road. We are pulling into Atlanta now (HOTlanta baby!) with Jeremy at the helm, hungry for another crowd, another set. Nat (guitar) returns to the tour today, Dave (sax) is back home until next week and we have missed them both. Though the banjo fit right in, it might have been a violation of a county statute to play the sax in the town we were played in last night. Hotlanta, now that is another story. Until tomorrow bloggers and bloggettes....
On the way to Atlanta:
posted by Red Rooster at 6:02 PM
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