Friday 6th September - Providence RI
The Friday morning was my first experience of the Cheese Steak.
I just wanted to mention that. I’ll come back to The Lunch Box later when I’ve taken some pics.
Depending on who we listened to, it was anywhere between a two and a half hour and a six hour journey from Union NJ to Providence RI. We found it to be closer to the latter.
Now, the only knowledge I have of Rhode Island is half-cocked. Think about it…
Anyway, I know that Providence once boasted a football team, which had it been anywhere near as good as its name, it would still be around now: The Providence Steamroller.
I also know that it has something to do with poultry. Oh, now you get it, eh?
Finally, I have watched Family Guy, which is set in the fictional town of Quahog RI.
For me, the location of Rhode Island was a bit like when I found out that England was at war with Argentina over the Falkland Islands. I wondered why they would want a remote Scottish Island in the first place! Similarly, with Rhode Island, I knew it was on the East Coast, and I was pretty sure it was more of a peninsula than an island. After that any knowledge I had was really verging on the seriously waffly.
Anyway, having eaten, we piled in to John’s van and set off for Rhode Island. John is Adi’s boyfriend and is the drummer in The New York Rel-X, Roger Miret and the Disasters and The Krays. I guess John doesn’t get much spare time.
I just wanted to mention that. I’ll come back to The Lunch Box later when I’ve taken some pics.
Depending on who we listened to, it was anywhere between a two and a half hour and a six hour journey from Union NJ to Providence RI. We found it to be closer to the latter.
Now, the only knowledge I have of Rhode Island is half-cocked. Think about it…
Anyway, I know that Providence once boasted a football team, which had it been anywhere near as good as its name, it would still be around now: The Providence Steamroller.
I also know that it has something to do with poultry. Oh, now you get it, eh?
Finally, I have watched Family Guy, which is set in the fictional town of Quahog RI.
For me, the location of Rhode Island was a bit like when I found out that England was at war with Argentina over the Falkland Islands. I wondered why they would want a remote Scottish Island in the first place! Similarly, with Rhode Island, I knew it was on the East Coast, and I was pretty sure it was more of a peninsula than an island. After that any knowledge I had was really verging on the seriously waffly.
Anyway, having eaten, we piled in to John’s van and set off for Rhode Island. John is Adi’s boyfriend and is the drummer in The New York Rel-X, Roger Miret and the Disasters and The Krays. I guess John doesn’t get much spare time.
Stan Hitler
The journey is more or less all Interstate, door-to-door and the Interstate system is a damn site better than our motorways. In six hours of travelling we encountered little disruption through roadworks and surprisingly little due to flow of traffic, even when skirting New York. It does go to show what a pitiful state the roads are in the UK!
On the way up there we passed Jimmy Hoffa’s grave, exit 16W on the New Jersey Turnpike, Giants Stadium, and at Stamford, Connecticut, Titan Towers, the head office of the World Wrestling (and whatever it is the “E” actually stands for!)
We stopped off somewhere in Connecticut for some nosebag. Whilst waiting for the others, I was approached by a strange-looking cove, who informed me that he was staying in the hotel, his girlfriend had no teeth, they were penniless until his check came and that he was asking passing motorists for money so that they could eat. I guessed she could gum chips to death. I was curious as to why she had no teeth and exactly why he chose to inform me as to his girlfriend’s dental failings. I imagined some huge, toothless, bear-like mountain of flab, eating by assimilating everything it came into contact with, into its body.
I was about to give in, so pathetic was his story when he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and asked me if I had a light. I thought hang on, if he has no money how can he afford smokes? A little light bulb went on and I kept my hand in my pocket. Chig, on the other hand, came along and handed over his pocket change straight away.
Just as we were leaving a car pulled in and the guy insisted on recounting his life story before we left. Apparently, he was Greek, but he had an English name (Townsend) and had family in Providence, so he may come along to the gig, because he liked young folks’ music.
The rest of the journey was uneventful apart from Fish’s Stan Hitler impersonation. It came about because, Gash I think it was, remarked on how much his latest haircut made him look like either Adolf Hitler or Stan Laurel. We had no idea how much of a recurring theme this would become throughout the next few days but Fish persisted in performing his Stan Hitler impersonations. And you know, he really does have a certain Hitlaurellian aspect to his face. Especially with the moustache!
On the way up there we passed Jimmy Hoffa’s grave, exit 16W on the New Jersey Turnpike, Giants Stadium, and at Stamford, Connecticut, Titan Towers, the head office of the World Wrestling (and whatever it is the “E” actually stands for!)
We stopped off somewhere in Connecticut for some nosebag. Whilst waiting for the others, I was approached by a strange-looking cove, who informed me that he was staying in the hotel, his girlfriend had no teeth, they were penniless until his check came and that he was asking passing motorists for money so that they could eat. I guessed she could gum chips to death. I was curious as to why she had no teeth and exactly why he chose to inform me as to his girlfriend’s dental failings. I imagined some huge, toothless, bear-like mountain of flab, eating by assimilating everything it came into contact with, into its body.
I was about to give in, so pathetic was his story when he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and asked me if I had a light. I thought hang on, if he has no money how can he afford smokes? A little light bulb went on and I kept my hand in my pocket. Chig, on the other hand, came along and handed over his pocket change straight away.
Just as we were leaving a car pulled in and the guy insisted on recounting his life story before we left. Apparently, he was Greek, but he had an English name (Townsend) and had family in Providence, so he may come along to the gig, because he liked young folks’ music.
The rest of the journey was uneventful apart from Fish’s Stan Hitler impersonation. It came about because, Gash I think it was, remarked on how much his latest haircut made him look like either Adolf Hitler or Stan Laurel. We had no idea how much of a recurring theme this would become throughout the next few days but Fish persisted in performing his Stan Hitler impersonations. And you know, he really does have a certain Hitlaurellian aspect to his face. Especially with the moustache!
Cigarette Machine Hero
We arrived in Providence and found the venue, The Met Café, with little trouble. Because the guys had not brought their guitars and shit with them, they had arranged to use one of the other bands’ gear. This would provide enough whining and bitching for the entire rest of the trip, so keep this in mind for later.
The other bands were local and obviously well thought of, although I found them rather derivative, unimaginative and provincial, lacking in originality or talent. But there you go.
Whilst we were waiting for Tommy and the Terrors to come on – actually they demonstrated a rather novel technique for getting the audience to join in. The singer threatened the audience that if they didn’t stand up he would come into the audience and make them stand up! – I was sat with Gash and there was music playing over the PA. Gash mentioned that it sounded like The Cult. I listened and had to agree, it did, but we couldn’t be 100% sure. Gash then announced that the best way to find out would be to go and look at the jukebox, across on the other side of the room. I looked at him puzzled and followed his gaze.
I turned to him, looking to see if he was yanking my chain. He was serious.
“You’ll never find out from that,” I said, laughing like a drain.
“Why’s that then?” he came back.
“Because,” I cried through the tears, “it’s a fucking cigarette machine!”
The other bands were local and obviously well thought of, although I found them rather derivative, unimaginative and provincial, lacking in originality or talent. But there you go.
Whilst we were waiting for Tommy and the Terrors to come on – actually they demonstrated a rather novel technique for getting the audience to join in. The singer threatened the audience that if they didn’t stand up he would come into the audience and make them stand up! – I was sat with Gash and there was music playing over the PA. Gash mentioned that it sounded like The Cult. I listened and had to agree, it did, but we couldn’t be 100% sure. Gash then announced that the best way to find out would be to go and look at the jukebox, across on the other side of the room. I looked at him puzzled and followed his gaze.
I turned to him, looking to see if he was yanking my chain. He was serious.
“You’ll never find out from that,” I said, laughing like a drain.
“Why’s that then?” he came back.
“Because,” I cried through the tears, “it’s a fucking cigarette machine!”
There’s not much I can say about the gig. It was Gash’s first shot at a live show with The Skeptix and he was a star, as we would discover. Fish and Usher would both spend the rest of the trip complaining about the injuries they received from their respective borrowed instruments that night, but then they are bitching little faggots. Chig, as usual was still playing the songs when the others had finished, so bad is his ability to keep time. (Only joking guys ;-O)
The sound was shite. The sound guy, who was obviously well stoked when we got there walked out half way through the Skeps first song and didn’t come back until they’d finished. Junkie tosser!
The way home was uneventful, as we all kipped, except for John.
However, we did wake up when the van packed in as we turned the last bend. Unfortunately, the rest of the last couple of hundred yards was uphill. So, we all got out and pushed, enthusiastically at first and less so, after the first few yards.
When we got to the house, we discovered that everyone had buggered off to Asbury Park and locked up without leaving John a key. So, at 6AM, a hastily arranged manoeuvre, arranged by our ex-commando, Gash, saw creepy Fred, the ffrench Johnnie, climbing onto the roof and trying windows. I could see it very clearly. Blues and twos would come screaming around the corner any second now, haul us all of to jail where I would become the plaything of someone called Bubba, who just wanted me to be his friend. Things were made trickier by creepy Fred’s rather chaotic understanding of American English. Eventually, just as Gash was about to climb up after him and disembowel the little troll, he found an open window. Eventually, he opened the front door. We had considered the possibility that he had actually just gone straight to bed he took so long, but he did eventually appear, grinning like a serial killer.
We crashed again for our now regular four hours of sleep.
Click here for the next bit
The sound was shite. The sound guy, who was obviously well stoked when we got there walked out half way through the Skeps first song and didn’t come back until they’d finished. Junkie tosser!
The way home was uneventful, as we all kipped, except for John.
However, we did wake up when the van packed in as we turned the last bend. Unfortunately, the rest of the last couple of hundred yards was uphill. So, we all got out and pushed, enthusiastically at first and less so, after the first few yards.
When we got to the house, we discovered that everyone had buggered off to Asbury Park and locked up without leaving John a key. So, at 6AM, a hastily arranged manoeuvre, arranged by our ex-commando, Gash, saw creepy Fred, the ffrench Johnnie, climbing onto the roof and trying windows. I could see it very clearly. Blues and twos would come screaming around the corner any second now, haul us all of to jail where I would become the plaything of someone called Bubba, who just wanted me to be his friend. Things were made trickier by creepy Fred’s rather chaotic understanding of American English. Eventually, just as Gash was about to climb up after him and disembowel the little troll, he found an open window. Eventually, he opened the front door. We had considered the possibility that he had actually just gone straight to bed he took so long, but he did eventually appear, grinning like a serial killer.
We crashed again for our now regular four hours of sleep.
Click here for the next bit