SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER 2001 NEWSLETTER


So, September.


What am I going to say that hasn't already been said? What can I add to the unending stream of words from minds better than my own? For a while, I fancied opening this note with a few paragraphs aimed at knocking Jerry Falwell down a peg.


Then Falwell apologized—not just a faint-hearted muttering about the timing of his words. But he apologized for his words themselves, and he questioned the kind of man who dared to speak them. It was a full-on mea culpa, an admission that he was anything but a leader in having spoken in such a way. Those of us in team LOST AND FOUND were of varying opinions about the appropriateness of lashing back at Mr. Falwell. My brother, a New Yorker of something like 20 years, asked me to run with what I'd written. I was in a quandary of what to do . . .But perhaps we're just all losing our minds at the same time. It happens you know. For instance, just today (October 5th), I flew to Charleston, South Carolina, meaning to pick up our van and drive it to Myrtle Beach. It wasn't until 5 hours into my journey, as I set my bags down next to the van that I first had the thought, "A fellow needs a key to drive a vehicle, doesn't he?" I have a key to this van alright. And I keep that key in my house in Toledo. Unfortunately, at that particular moment the van was nowhere near either of those things. Well sure, you say, people forget their keys all the time. But I don't. I might forget to turn off the bathwater and flood the upstairs, but I do not forget car keys. It is part of my mental makeup not to forget keys, wedding bands, and slinkies. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I do not forget car keys. For me, such an act is like forgetting to breathe.


After walking defeatedly back to the airport terminal, I went to a pastry shop and asked for a medium coffee and a blueberry scone. The woman gets my coffee and says, "What else?" I repeat, "A blueberry scone." She says, "Oh yes. Do you want that heated?" I say no thanks. She digs out the scone while I dig out my money. She returns to the register and says, "A scone and what to drink?" We both look at the medium coffee on the counter. She remembers, rings up the order, takes my money. I say, "And what about the scone?" She says, "It's almost done heating up, sir." I smile. I've had days like that. In fact, I was in the middle of having a day like that on the very same day.


The pastry-shop lady can't keep track of two items. The van driver forgets his keys. The spokesman speaks poorly. These are trying times. Perhaps a little slack is in order, eh?

Speak Bob! Why I oughta' Thirsty much?

On to the month at hand . . .in which LOST AND FOUND travels the eastern seaboard. Beginning where we left off last month, the school year began in Ohio. I didn't need to get a photo of Eleanor this year, because she provided a little self-portrait. Having checked that off the To Do List, Michael and I headed for Connecticut and parts east. Our first stop was the ever-delightsome gathering at Hammonasset State Park. This event of Lutherans from the northeast gets bigger every year, and we were psyched to be in attendance. Adding to the psyched level was another chance to hear our friend Bob Lenz deliver a few words to the group. I rode my bike over the moguls in the woods with a few other guys. We witnessed some amazing blacktop art. We drank a couple of bottles of water. We played some songs with a group of regional guitar aficionados. We admired the bravery of the New Englanders who all camped out in tents and stuff. We made a live recording of our concert Saturday night. And generally had a great time.


Sunday afternoon, we drove to East Providence, Rhode Island, which is just east of Providence, and aptly named. Our friend Brian set-up a grand event with a stage in the orchestra pit and everything. The one thing he forgot was to remind me how to operate my mini-disk recorder, so we have no recording of the concert that night. (I'd do one of those clever little sad faces here using various punctuation marks, except that I don't know how.) However, the concert itself was a great time—we just can't prove it with a recording.

Like?

The next night, we played in Sussex, New Jersey. This is the far north part of Jersey . . .essentially Pennsylvania to you and me. It was an intimate evening, and quite fun. The kind hosts even cooked us some food, which rocked. In the basement I found this sign on the wall. At first I thought maybe there was supposed to be a little more to the display. But on second thought, maybe it's just something to think about. That night we drove off to Fishkill, New York so that we could make it to Queens for the concert the next day, September 11th.


Like most Americans, we rolled out of bed and started watching television that day. The concert in Queens was obviously cancelled. We drove out to Scranton, Pennsylvania, to spend the night, wondering if the folks in Pottstown would really want to go ahead with the concert on the 12th. While in Scranton, Michael and I went out to a local park so he could run and I could ride bike. I expected folks to all be discussing the events of the horrific day, but based on my informal survey, it seems the important issue in Scranton leads locals to say, "You know you're not allowed to ride your bike around here."

You really DO like me!

Anyway, Pottstown decided they wanted to push ahead, so we drove over on the 12th and played for a small group of folks, including the local pastor who—owing to having lost some sort of Faustian deal—painted his skin blue. You can see him on the left in the Photo Phrenzy pictures from that night's concert. As I say, Pottstown was nice, and afterwards we drove to nearby Exton, Pennsylvania where we received two happy surprises. At a Residence Inn, after hundreds of nights, I was finally chosen as the random Guest of the Day. This honor comes with the much-coveted prize of one water bottle with the hotel's logo on it. Even better (if you can imagine such a thing), our friend Bart Campolo drove over to our hotel and visited with us. We had a fine time, and finally sent him packing well after midnight.

BEEP BEEP!!

Next day (no need for definite articles around here), we drove to Leesburg, Virginia, since the hosts there also decided to go ahead with the concert. It was a fine show and showing, though halfway through the concert I realized that I'd set up all our stuff right in the middle of the road. I couldn't decide if this was just Life On the Road or constituted Playing In Traffic. Either way, it was too late to move everything. Afterwards, we drove north, and the next day arrived for a concert in Granby, Connecticut.


After consulting with the locals, they decided to put together an impromptu pre-concert gathering outside at 7:00 pm with candles, as many people were doing across the country. The pastor led the group in prayer and singing, and it was a nice touch on the day of prayer and remembrance. We all went back inside, and at 7:30, Michael and I played the concert with a packed room and had a really great time. Our friend Brian from East Providence was there and he brought his video camera. However, this time he forgot to remind me to put the minidisk recorder on the extended setting, and so the live disk ends a little bit before the concert did. :( Hey, at least I figured out the sad face thing! The minidisk operation comes later. After Granby, we drove as far as we could back toward my house, and the next day my Cris and I celebrated our anniversary.


Michael had hoped to fly home during this time, but the airlines were still not flying, so he spent a little vacation time in northwest Ohio, as many globetrotting vacationers often do. On Monday, I was able to get him a flight on my Northwest airlines, and he flew to the Metroplex to visit friends and co-workers. On Tuesday, the local radio station in Maumee organized a prayer rally at the Islamic Center of Northwest Ohio, after bullets were fired into the walls over the weekend. Several hundred of us surrounded the building and prayed for the safety of those who worship inside. It really was quite moving, and was a great example of folks coming together against discrimination and divisiveness.

Oops!

On September 19th, I drove over to Wisconsin, where Michael and Troy met me in Williams Bay. A huge number of folks came out for the evening, and this band had a great time. (I'm referring to us in the third person there. And, come to think of it, I'm unsure whether to use the reflexive pronoun in the previous sentence. Wow, English sure is tricky.) From there we drove over to Rockford, Illinois. In the morning, we played once again at an old favorite of ours, Rockford Lutheran High School. Long-term readers will recall that we have a tradition of remarking on the huge "smile-poms" sign above the bleachers. Well, since last year, they've painted over that sign. In our honor, the students made signs for our visit. After school, and after a lot more coffee, we headed over to Freeport, Illinois, where we set up for the concert in a beautiful room. Turnout was on the small size, but that might've been because everyone was at home building their arks. During our concert, it rained so hard that the back parking lots flooded and the retaining wall fell, causing an electric pole to fall, causing a huge mess and a great concern for safety. Turns out, everyone turned out fine, and we drove off into the darkness.

"In the white room, at the station . . ."

The next day, we were scheduled to play at Valparaiso University, so we did. They'd wanted us to play outdoors. Since it looked like rain, and since we'd just been to Freeport, we were relieved that they decided to move the event indoors. Before the actual music time, we did one of those radio show things that colleges often have us do. We had a great time with lots of folks (though not more than the room could safely handle), and my neighbor Matt Nemeth helped us load stuff out of the building afterwards. All in all, a fine night. From there, we headed south.

Peder rocks on Orangey! Umbecca rocks extra on

However, we didn't head fast enough, since we showed up kind of late for the event in Lexington, Kentucky. On the way, the interstate became a bit backed up, as this photo can attest. Fortunately, we had a lot of help loading in the equipment. Before we played some songs, our pal Peder Eide played some of his stuff. During our concert, the local news (channel 29, I think) showed up. Our friend Um-Becca played two songs with Ryan during our time. (That's probably why the news was there; we knew it couldn't have been for us.) Afterward, we got to hang out with Peder and watch ourselves on the news. That was cool.

Sign up soon!

Next day was Hillsville, Virginia. In this case, we showed up early (or, on time at least). It was a really huge room and the local hosts were able to pretty much fill it, which we found amazing! Some local folks played songs before we got started. They rocked, but I have neither a photo nor a name for them, so you'll just have to take my word for it. Also in Hillsville, it seems that Eddie's Airline has started up it's frequent-flier program.


Then we headed seriously south, to a place called "Florida." In rapid succession we played Port Orange, Orlando, Davie (as in gee), and Jacksonville. Since we hadn't been to Seattle in a while, it was nice to get sopping wet every single day. Actually, we never see rain when we're in Seattle, and we never see sun when we're in Florida. That's just the way it goes for us. However, it was a good week, and we were reacquainted with all sorts of old friends, while our van got reacquainted with all sorts of old massive insects. In Orlando we found ourselves talking about saunas as I recall. Our friend Troy rejoined us for the Jacksonville show.

Don't forget! That's all

Then we drove across the state to Tampa Bay, which turns out to be a really nice city! We were there to provide a little opening set for our pals CPR, who are much funnier than we. Michael put his guitar in the appropriate spot. I made some important notes on my notepad. And I realized that the world can be divided into two kinds of people.

Go McGuyver! Pardon me?

After the Youth Specialties fiesta, Michael and I flew home, and Troy hung around town and got sick. My daughters and I made a cat out of newspaper, and a plastic bottle. Eventually Troy got the van up to Charleston, South Carolina, where I flew to get it, but couldn't because of the pastry lady incident up there in paragraph three or so. Anyway, Michael came to rescue me with a spare key and we arrived safely in Myrtle Beach, threading our way through the Harley riders to get to the Episcopalians, who were gathering in the same town on the same weekend. We weren't there for the Harley riding. The theme had to do with sports, and our stage was right under a goal post. Pretty cool, that. Had a fun time, and marveled at the South Carolina insects and accents. We did a couple of workshops, discussing our bike trip and offering graphics such as this map. Sunday afternoon, we drove to Charlotte, North Carolina for a concert. In this case, we got to set up under a banner with our recreational name on it. Had a fine time, and drove off into the mountains toward Virginia.

"I'm Free!"

Once there, we hooked up with our friends from Mennonite Media to film a video. (In the words of Ripley, "Believe it, or not!") They filmed us in all sorts of improbable placed, like this cow pasture. Well, they also filmed us in a church, which in our case is not so improbable, is it? All in all, very interesting. When we see the results we'll let you know.


After that, we drove to my house and had some time off.


Ahh . . .


On October 19th, Michael arrived at my house early in the morning and we drove up to Ann Arbor, Michigan to play at the church of our pal Byron. They've done some other-worldly stuff with their youth room. Computers, video screens, full-band setup and so forth. Quite impressive. Also impressive is the sound system in the sanctuary where we played. Even more impressive is the cracker-jack team of sound engineers, whose efficiency in turning off the power meant that the recording from that night's concert was erased. After the concert, we went to visit Michael's brother in Detroit, where he's working on a movie about a candy product, I believe.


The next morning we played some songs at worship in Gross Pointe Farms. Then it was back down toward my house to play in Toledo, Ohio. Lutherans from the Toledo area get together each year to put on something called "Lutherfest." They had all sorts of really good musicians, plus us. We had great fun, and my parents got to see us perform for once. Following that, Michael flew back home, and I drove to my house, where I now sit writing you a little missive from my living room.


In the cleaning house department, you can click on RESULTS to see the results of last month's TOWN-NAME AWARENESS SURVEY. To see the photos I took from the stage, you can click on Photo Phrenzy. To see the list of successful recordings from the concerts listed in this newsletter, you can click on LIVE LIST. To continue rocking on, just continue rocking on.


Later,


george

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