eddie from ohio journal May 31, 2005

SEATTLE TO YOSEMITE: WEST COAST CARPETBAGGING
as told by the bass player (forgive all misspellings and erroneous information)

Late May, and we started a Left Coast Tour from Puget Sound. All previous Pacific Time Zone trips had us migrating northward and ending in Seattle. This approach worked better, and something about driving South seems more, uh, downhill. Having fresh land legs in the beautiful Northwest seemed to make all the difference. Some downtime with an early arrival in the city center gave us a chance to drink it all in, and on the most beautiful day of the year. The kind of day that made you think, "Yeah. I could live here". Then you remind yourself that they don't see the sun 8 months out of the year and are forced to eat nothing but whale blubber in the pouring rain.

Speaking of whale blubber diets, a couple of us caught an outstanding acapella Gospel group doing the street buskin' thing down by the water. Turns out that they were performing in front of the original Starbucks, which was showing customer appreciation by selling coffee at their original prices when their doors open: a mere $3.99 per cup. God Bless the little guy.

As for the show that evening, we returned to one of the most plush venues of its size we have ever experienced, The Triple Door (our first experience was back in December). It was every bit as chic as we remembered. The staff was professional and friendly, and all the amenities were first rate. (They even put us up for the evening in a multi-room suite upstairs. Can't beat that commute). The show was a fat sellout with a good mix of East Coast transplants, converted West Coast Edheads and vacationing Eskimos. Can't wait to get back. Preferably that same time of year.

The next day, with a short commute to Portland, we took our time in Seattle with various activities. Robbie visited a legendary book store recommended to him the night before, and why shouldn't he - it was his birthday. I went for an exhilarating run down by the docks among the sailors and fish handlers (everybody say "Aaaaargh!). Whether looking back at Mt Rainer, or over the Sound toward the Olympics, or taking in the architecturally rich skyline featuring SafeCo Field and Dr. Evil's Space Needle, it's a virtual panoramic 360 degree of visual splendor. Yeah, I could live here.

PORTLAND

What can you say about Portland? Well, it's three hours from Seattle. There are many similarities in the Tale of Two Cities. Seattle has Rainer. Portland has Mount Hood. Seattle has the Sonics. Portland has the Blazers. Seattle has Starbucks. Portland has AA. This marked our first visit to the renown Aladdin Theater. The real highlight was the German restaurant where we ate before the show across from the venue: The Berlin Inn. What grub! Veenerschnitzles, Apple Stroooodle, OoompaOoompaHoozyerdaddy -- Sgt Shultz would have been ecstatic. We certainly were, and it vas guttenswell for Herr Robbenheimer un his birtdah, yah? The Aladdin folks were nice and extremely efficient. Toward the end of our set, with a later show to prepare for,*they activated a hydraulic lift on the right side of the stage, lifting the stage up at 45 degrees, essentially sweeping us and our gear off (no need for a shepherd's hook here -- we didn't need to play those last two numbers anyhow. Thanks, Aladdin!). Thanks to all who attended.

*This may or may not have happened this way..... but it sure felt like it!

When visiting Portland, stay at the Red Lion Hotel, whose "Windows Lounge" is a great place to take in the Portland sights. Thanks to Josh the bartender and Dept Fife his bar-back.

OAKLAND/BERKELEY

If you ever get a chance to fly from Portland to the SanFran Bay area, make sure you do, and get a good window seat on the left hand side of the plane. The only thing between me and the window was a lovely grandmother who was en route to the Bay area where her son was going to take her out sailing. She made for a great tour guide as she pointed out all the glorious peaks along the Cascade Mountain range. What a beautiful country. Don't know if the mountains were purple, but they sure were majestic. Just as she was telling me about her trip, I mentioned that the Vonnegut book I was reading cited an incident where the protagonist accidently killed his mother during a sailing trip. Her shocked, air-sick-bag-grabbing expression lead me to believe I should have internalized that coincidental side bar.

It had been a couple of years, but this marked our 8th visit to the great Freight and Salvage in Berkeley, CA - one of the first Cali venues to open its doors to EFO. It's always a great time with wonderful folks (Steve "St. Lou" Baker and the lovely Heather) and fine volunteers. The show was a sellout, and we didn't get the Shepherd's Hook. We even got to play a little longer. Siam's is one of our favorite Thai places if you're ever looking for good eats. After the show, I got to hang out with some favorite Californian friends, whose names I promised to keep out of the journal entry, because they're all either fugitives or A's fans. Thanks for the fun, you outlaws!

JOHN MUIR, WE HARDLY KNEW YE

The recently issued California quarter commemorates Golden State hobo, John Muir and his crazy vagabond travels throughout Yosemite. California has sooo much natural beauty, it would be tough to put on the back of a single coin (Mississippi didn't seem to have a problem. Ah, c'mon - we kid because we have Internet. Our own Virginia went with three mast ships, essentially saying there's no great shakes in-land in the Commonwealth). However, Yosemite is a real stand-out for Cali glory (a close tie with Ah-nold and his lo-carbing wife). Why are we heading to Yosemite? To make our debut at the legendary Strawberry Music Festival. What a thoroughly rewarding experience -- on every level.

Even the drive was a breeze. After a hard night in an Oakland brothel of gamblin and whore-in', Julie was kind enough to take on the driving duties in the rental car we shared. For her, the end of the rainbow was near, as her beloved Greg and two cherubs were waiting for her at the festival. Thankfully and miraculously, she stayed the speed limit. I rewarded her by recounting the entire story of "Episode III: Revenge of the Sith", which I had just seen before we left. I'm no spoiler, but she insisted on hearing everything, so I included sound effects, John Williams tireless score, vocal dialect variations and even director's commentary. *George Lucas and I are old friends. Believe it or not, by the time we got to the festival gates I hadn't even gotten to the Obi-Won vs. Anakin fight scene (or as I call it, The Cajun Cookout).

*This may or may not have happened.

Big music festivals can sometimes be tense environments with a multitude of good-intentioned, though mis-directed volunteers who all want to be the Chef to leak in the stew. Not here. These were some of the friendliest, easy-goingest folks we've met. Maybe it's the altitude. It didn't take long to find Greg and the boys, and they brought us up to speed on everything we had missed. Julie was happy to be with her family, and I was happy I didn't have to do my Yoda voice anymore. I needed to sing later.

And sing we did. Eddie, Robbie and Bob would all roll in later in plenty of time for our 5:45 Main Stage set. For 60 minutes we were to entertain essentially five thousand strangers. What do you play for so many virgin ears? Well, in a golf analogy, if we were contemplating with our caddie what instrument to pull out of our bag for a two foot put, we would pull out our biggest, fattest driver. Okay, that's maybe a lame analogy, but most of you can infer that we simply pulled out all the stops. Most of you can also infer that I don't golf.

If a big rousing standing O wasn't enough, we also got to hang out and hear the sets of the Nashville Bluegrass Band and (drum roll please) LITTLE FEAT. With backstage and green room privileges, we not only got to meet the band, but also got to drink all their beer. Just kidding - we only met five of the six members. Sometimes meeting your idols can be disheartening when encountering surly off-stage personalities and overzealous bodyguards, but not with the FEAT -- super friendly folks. My biggest thrill was watching Eddie rappin' with Richie Hayward (my two biggest drumming heroes).

A few weeks earlier, my friend Tim Carbone (fiddle master at Falcon Ridge and Railroad Earth member) gave me the heads up that Strawberry's late night camp site jams are the best around. Man, he wasn't kidding... It's for that reason that I opted out on the 45 minute drive back to the hotel in favor of jam-session-crashing and sleeping in the rental car. What a plan, eh? Truthfully, it was worth it. There were jams of the highest caliber in about every styling in the acoustic realm of music - bluegrass, folk, old-timey, metal-unplugged... I was in heaven. Though if I ever get into heaven, I don't know if I'll get lost like I did on the campsite. With no cellular connection, I had no timepiece, so I don't know how much sleep I finally got in the Ford rental when sunlight and a full bladder drove me to consciousness.

Car clock says 9:45am. Oh goodie, I'm due down at the lake for our 10am Gospel set. No problem, a golf cart trip later, I'm down there with my bass and two minutes to spare. We've got 30 minutes to raise our voices to the Lord, save some souls and hopefully sell some CDs. Again, we pull out all the stops with everything religious and spiritual we can muster up. It seemed to work. The weather was glorious, the crowd was enthused, and the CDs were sold out.

A week later (and I rarely brag in these journals, I usually just lie, so indulge me), Bob found out that festival attendees send in their votes for music superlatives. To our shock and awe and delight, we virtually swept the ballot. EFO won for Best Overall Performance and Best Vocal Group, "And the Rain Crashed Down" won for Best Original Song, Julie won for Best Female Vocalist, Eddie won for Best Percussion, Robbie was runner up for Best Male Vocalist, and I believe I went away with Most Punctual. Not a bad showing to 5 thousand strangers.

From about 11am on, we had the rest of the day to enjoy the festival or just enjoy Yosemite. Eddie and Bob opted for the latter with trips to the famous waterfalls of the park. Julie enjoyed Q.T. with her family, and *Robbie disappeared in the woods with some porn magazines I got him for his birthday. Me? I enjoyed the wonderful musical offerings of the festival, coupled with a long overdue shower back at the hotel. To my surprise, there was a wealth of talent from our home state of Virginia, specifically Charlottesville: King Wilkie, Old School Freight Train and Biscuit Burners (recently relocated to Western NC). Really fine folks, but even more importantly - amazing bands! It's encouraging to see good 'grass alive and kicking among the young. I'm looking forward to seeing Crooked Still at Falcon Ridge -- there's always such a buzz about them. Another festival highlight (in addition to fraternizing with wonderful staff -- I think they love me.... or they just make fun of me when I'm not looking) was the Riders in the Sky set. I'm a closet Sons of the Pioneers fan, and these guys have that well-oiled cowpoke shtick down hook, line and sinker -- Too Funny! Great seeing Bear and Eli from Pagosa Spgs, CO, too. Cloud Moss of the Kate Wolf Festival is always a trip. Thanks to Hog Ranch Radio, too.

*This may or may not have happened.

The festival couldn't have had a more fitting finish. Artists can sit in the orchestra pit private section to catch other festival acts, and on this last night, there was the happy Wells family, all bundled up for the evening's finale set of a family and EFO favorite, The Del McCoury Band. As much time as Julie has to be away from her men, only to schlep around with us men, it was a delight to see her sharing these great experiences with her true loved ones. As I came back from hunting down Heinekens for Papa Greg, there was Del's soothing high lonesome tenor working some lullaby magic, as Julie looked on with a sleeping Corey in her embrace, and Greg with a snoozing Liam in his.

Sometimes, life just doesn't suck.
MC MC