Day 7 - May 22nd - Chicago
As last we read, I’ve been up most of the night wracked with worry. When I awake after three hours sleep, I check Instagram to have the first thing I see completely floor me. Made all the worse by the state I’m already in. Someone who meant so much to me, who I always hoped I might get together with, and knowing how wonderful that would be, even though we haven’t been in touch in years, well, a pic of her and her new baby, and it hitting home that that avenue closed long ago, and will not open now. I had a similar experience back in 2018, a different woman, and that news is what sent me into this avalanche of activity I’ve been working my ass off on ever since. Vowing to never again let what I want pass me by, and realizing so much of what I want out of life has been to create - there’s still at least two bigger books in me, at least one comic, and many, many songs - and I’ve been working steadily on it all since that experience six years ago. To leave behind a body of work. Even if romantic love will be denied me this lifetime, and that work consigned to one of Obscurity’s darker dust bins. And right now I still have to get up and contribute to it with the day’s writing before I leave the hotel. But I feel horrible, no mistake. Deep aches in soul and body. You can wallow in self-pity all you want but that’s not gonna get the work done. Action is what is required. Remembering the lessons I learned on the Ballad Of Buttery Cake Ass tours last year - Little victories are still victories. And do not let yourself be defeated. Even when it seems you’re down for the count.
The writing goes remarkably well, and a victory will be getting the book into more shops today. Exile In Bookville rejected Sporting Moustaches before I left but it seems like a cool store, and the name points to music, so maybe they’ll be into BCA and Nick Cave’s Bar. Getting there seems impossible. And it’s so hot out. Driving around and around. Finally parking down by the lake, where it’s $7/hour to park at the meter (it costs a small fortune to park in Chicago). I head to the shop, which does have a cool vibe. I pass the books along though I can tell their interest is low, and rush back to beat the meter. Need to press on. To Seminary Co-Op on the University of Chicago campus on the south side. Almost an hour drive. They carried Ballad Of Buttery Cake Ass and their new buyer, Stéphanie, wants three copies of Sporting Moustaches. Things are looking up. Stéphanie and I chat about the French comics artists we both love, and I find a book of Éluard’s poetry that I’ve been looking for for months, since
mentioned having a book of poetry on your person to read instead of checking your phone. A great idea. The first poem I open to, see above, is particularly apt. Money is tight though I allow myself to spend due to these freaking doldrums. This permission continues to the original location of Powell’s where I finally pick up Richard Brautigan’s 3-in-1 volume of Trout Fishing In America, The Pill Versus The Springhill Mine Disaster, and In Watermelon Sugar, Felipe Alfau’s Chromos, and Wodehouse’s Money For Nothing, of which there is no audiobook yet. I’m feeling a bit better but I’m starving. Checking the nearby vegan places on the HappyCow app, driving 25 minutes to one that has no gluten-free options that they know of. Back in the car. The difficulties never stop. But when I get to Majani, finally some salve for all the aches. Their Soul Taco with oyster mushrooms is just what I need, especially since I have a pile of new used books to look through while I’m eating.A delish blueberry muffin too for the road and it’s on to Indianapolis, a convenient midway point, where I can hopefully rest and get the books in some shops tomorrow before I press on to Columbus. Having been reminded how great Greg Renoff’s Van Halen Rising is, I grab his Ted Templeman: A Platinum Producer’s Life In Music from the library for the ride. It’s Templeman’s autobiography as told to Renoff, and while I usually always feel the need to read entire books, and feel the slightest bit guilty about not doing so, I dive in straight at the middle to get to the Van Halen stuff. And it’s everything I want, especially in my current state. From his signing the band all the way through 5150 and Roth’s Skyscraper. The details of recording those records that I’ve always wanted to know, and yes, I did listen to the stuff about Clapton and Aerosmith along the way. I LOVE that Templeman does not consider them ‘Van Halen’ without Roth at the front. And that his condition to produce 5150 was that they change their name, even suggesting Van Hagar (he ultimately did not produce that record). I get to Indianapolis and find the cheapest hotel I can online. A Quality Inn whose parking lot looks barren, almost destroyed, and once inside gives off heavy Grand Budapest Hotel vibes, as it is rather large, even faded glory-ish, now with a small underworld clientele. I bolt the door, even lean a chair against it, and sink into sleep, foregoing dinner.
Day 8 - May 23rd - Indianapolis to Columbus
A good night’s sleep is exactly what I need, as is the breakfast at Soulshine Vegan Café. There’s nothing I can do about the rest of it except press on, the mission is to get the book out there. Stay focused on the mission. So I head to Tomorrow Books and leave a postcard for the owner then on to Dear Mom. I’ve been following Dear Mom on Instagram for a while now and really wanted to get BCA on their shelf but could find no way to contact them. So I stopped in, and am glad I did. A rad shop, and Liz the owner was super cool. Listening to 60s French pop and I love most of the records displayed on the walls, Emahoy Tsegué-Maryam Guèbrou right near the counter. The shop is a hodgepodge, like the kind of shop I’d like to run, selling records, books, food, even old magazines and clothes in the back room. Liz buys three copies of SM and one of BCA (I’m running low) and hips me to some other good spots in town. I head over to The Whispering Shelf where Lena and Marlowe are having lunch but are super friendly and we chat for like 20 minutes about books, music, and Boston. Lena buys two SMs and I give her a promo copy of BCA as she’s expressed interest. Marlowe also convinces me - in conjunction with Andrew from Life On Books podcast’s recent ravings - that I need to read Clarice Lispector. I’m on it. Feeling good about things. I hit two other shops to no avail and I’ve really got to press on to Columbus, the reading’s at 7PM and it’s already close to 2. Plus I want to stop in at Skeleton Dust in Dayton along the way. Luke’s been cool about carrying my books and although Nick Cave’s Bar has been selling, BCA hasn’t, so I grab a couple of the copies I left last year to have at my disposal. Leaving one of course as I like having it at cool shops. Racing to get to Cbus in order to have time to eat before the event. I hightail it to Two Dollar Radio where I hang with Ivan for a bit. Ivan was behind the counter at my reading there last year. He hooks me up with a discount for my delicious Buffalo Mac N Cheez with oyster mushrooms. I had been hoping to talk to owner Eric about carrying SM - they are a highly curated shop, and publisher as well, putting out my favourite book of last year, Kevin Maloney’s The Red-Headed Pilgrim - though Eric isn’t there. Ivan takes a book to give to him, and I continue to be so impressed with Hanif Abdurraqib’s work, that they also publish, that I ask if they can get copies of my books to him, which they say they will.
And then on to Prologue, who awesomely took copies of my books last year when I was in town and have been psyched to set up this reading. It’s the last night of the tour and I know people in town and hopefully they’ll come and it will go well and salvage the whole thing. I arrive at 6:40 and spy Dr. J, Art Jipson, browsing in the back. I’m thrilled to see him, and he’s made the drive up from Dayton. Awesome. I had a blast hanging with Art at my reading at Omega in Dayton last year. He’d read Ballad Of Buttery Cake Ass, got all the references and thoroughly enjoyed it. Even telling me now that if he ever teaches a music class again he’s going to put it on the syllabus. Awesome again. I check in with the staff who are surprised to learn that the reading is today. There are no posters up or anything and the person who I’ve been dealing with left hours ago. They hastily set up chairs while Art and I catch up and talk music. We continue to do so as the 7PM start time comes and goes, and extends out to closing time at 8 without a single other soul showing up. I rack it up for what it is and Art and I grab some soft drinks - pineapple juice for me - at a bar down the road and continue to recommend each other all sorts of music until the time comes he has to head home. Funnily enough, the only other person who was at that Dayton reading last year was Fred, who was also very enthusiastic about BCA, and Fred’s band - Elite Terrorism Modulus - are playing in Columbus tonight. So I head over and they’re great. Very Birthday Party-ish, especially the last couple songs. Fred’s psyched I came and buys a copy of the new book.
I head to my hotel, where check-in is delayed by me running to the bank to get $50 cash for my deposit so I can get it back tomorrow instead of waiting for it a few days to go back to my card. Crawl into bed hoping to put most of this tour behind me.
Day 9 - May 24th - Heading Home
I had posted this on Twitter two days ago:
‘I was really looking forward to this tour, getting to meet and hang out with a lot of friends across the MidWest. Instead it has been one of the most gruelling, dispiriting experiences of my life. Came close to completely breaking me today’
Some really lovely messages of encouragement have come in. Very thankful for those. I get up, do the day’s writing, get my $50 back, and head to Two Dollar Radio to grab breakfast and once more see if I can talk to Eric. He just left. The original plan had been to get home tomorrow as the 10+ hours from Columbus is a rather long drive and I plan on stopping in Pittsburgh to get the book in some shops there. But I decide that the victory I can get today will be to make it home. I just want to sleep in my own bed and have this be over, and besides, it’s doubtful I can afford a place to sleep and still be able to eat the next few days until these checks clear (a few shops paid in checks along the way).
Early into my drive I get a message that my data is used up and I can’t get a signal even to add more money. Stressful. If worse comes to worst I do have cds in the car, but I do need at least Maps to get me home. I pull of the highway to a Burger King – I haven’t been in one in at least 20 years – using their Whopper net to call my phone company. Phew, back on track but that was concerning. A couple more hours to Pittsburgh. I am really loving the DLRcast episodes I’m ploughing through. The interview with Steve Vai really hits home for me. Vai talks about getting really quiet and listening to yourself and having the courage to put what emerges out into the world. It was seeing the world premiere of the Yankee Rose video in 1986 and Steve Vai making the guitar ‘talk’ that made me want to play guitar in the first place, so I took this very seriously. I have to keep at it though it seems the Universe is trying to stomp me down from ever doing anything again. And woah! Grabbing the video of the interview now for this post I see that Steve Vai has a moustache in it!
This interview was to promote Vai’s Inviolate record so I throw that album on and enjoy it very much. Perhaps my favourite Vai solo record. Then I remember he guested on Mike Stern’s Big Neighborhood album and put that on, and then Stern’s song Common Ground, a tune I’ve always loved.
It was cool going through the Fort Pitt tunnel and coming out to see the city open up before you. Head to Copacetic Comics, cool shop upstairs in an old brick building that reminds me of the record stores of my youth. In fact there’s a record store below it, but I don’t have time to stop in. Copacetic buys a copy, cash, and I’m very thankful. Head to White Whale, which looks like a great shop, but the buyer isn’t in. Near a Thai place I ate at last year so I go there again. It’s so hot out, I change into shorts in the bathroom and in the process, I only realize later, lose pieces of blue lace agate and onyx, as well as a hematite ring that I like having in my pockets. Hit another bookshop to no avail. It’s time to get home.
Seven hours to go. Six hours to go. I will make it home. It will be the victory I need today. Many episodes of the DLRcast rolling through my speakers. Keeping a steady 75mph. Until I go over a hill, spot a cop car just waiting for people, and seemingly for my out-of-state plate, and the lights come on as soon as I pass him, though I’ve got my foot on the brake and am sure the speed limit is 70. A ticket for $181.75. Double the money I currently have to my name. And those fees…woo! This figures. Things can always get worse. And now I have to make it home. No matter how tired I am. Careful to go the speed limit the whole rest of the way. Taking much longer. Stopping at a Love’s to get gas, think about using one of the trucker showers, I’m that gross and sweaty. Plus it might wake me up. But I opt against it. More DLRcast, keeping my mind from dwelling on the negative. I will make it home. DLRcast until I can’t really concentrate on people speaking anymore and just need some music.
Crossing the Connecticut line. Off the exit Maps tells me. Driving thru a part of CT I’ve never seen before nor was aware even existed. Listening to Paul Stanley’s 1978 solo record after Roth’s Skyscraper, revisiting Hina, and those last few songs after much mention of them on the DLRcast. Then some good old VH to bring it all back home. Drop Dead Legs. Ending for some reason with Hagar-era Why Can’t This Be Love, Dreams, and “5150”. Narrow dark roads, lots of ominous forest and shrubbery. Shaker Village-like. Have to be careful for another car coming at me. Go round a bend and finally something I recognize. To soon crawl into bed, my body aching so bad I doubt I’ll ever calm down enough to sleep. But I do. And it’s over. 2411 miles. Ended on this little victory.
And I was right too. Feel so much better after 10 hours sleep in my own bed. I will not be defeated. I check my email and find this great review of Sporting Moustaches from the Beyond The Glass hockey blog - "Aug’s storytelling ability is second to none... with a keen ability to entertain and make you laugh... Sporting Moustaches does not disappoint."
Now that it’s been over a week, I’m looking back more stoically at the tour. So much of this year has been like trudging shoulder-deep through the rubble of a demolished once-loved building, to arrive at exits completely blocked off. But the only thing for it is to keep going. A variation of that has been said by many people but my favourite has always been Shelley Duvall’s “No matter what it is, pick yourself up and go on to the next project”
Two signings in Connecticut if you’re around
Saturday June 8th - Barrett Bookstore, Darien - starts at noon
Saturday June 15th - Barnes & Noble, Milford - 12-4PM
Book haul from the trip:
Glad the hero of this odyssey makes it back home!