RYE TOUR DIARY - IN ONE BIG POST!

Due to popular demand (Seriously!) I am squeezing the Summer 1994 Rye Tour Diary that I posted day by day this past summer into one handy dandy post! How convenient for those who relish in the poor behavior of young men! Enjoy!

8/16/94 – Detroit, Michigan - Grounds Coffeehaus
After much deliberation on whether or not we were actually going due to Ralph’s father taking the keys to the van, we were on the road to the first gig of the tour in Detroit. I could tell we were off to a good start when three hours into the tour, John Q. Law of the Pennsyltucky State Police pulled us over. After asking us if we were coming from Woodstock ‘94, the good ole boy enquired on whether or not our driver Ralph was hyped up on goofballs since he was swerving all around the highway. Little did this son of a brother know that it was impossible not to swerve since the mix of a high roof and high winds makes the van…well…swerve. We tried to explain this to officer white trash but he wasn’t buying it. He made Ralph get out of the van and walk the line, say the alphabet backward, dance the mambo with a mountain lion, etc.

The cop left Ralph by the police car and asked us to please tell him what Ralph was on. It took a while, but we assured him all of Ralph’s issues were purely mental and had zero to do with controlled substances. He let us go with another person driving. After that close call, a game of Scattergories was played.

We got to the show super late and missed the band we all wanted to see, Hose Got Cable. Rye sucked and John took a chunk out of Dave’s bass drum. So far, this tour is going really smoothly! Afterwards, we ate at a Taco Bell where the register counter was completely glass-enclosed. Nice town, this Detroit.

We stayed at Matt from Current’s house and he seems like a real hospitable dude. I fell asleep behind a couch.

8/18/94 – Lincoln, Nebraska
Woke up in Detroit, showered and felt good. Went to a cool record store, ate a vegetarian place and got a few Munsingwear shirts at a thrift store. Went back to Matt’s and got dirty as fuck silkscreening Rye shirts. Matt had a bunch of silkscreens, so I put a rad Chino Horde one on the back of my jacket. He also had a silkscreen that just had the word POOP on it, so I had to put that on a shirt as well. After cleaning up, there was a dance contest to the Hose Got Cable seven-inch. Charles and Gonnelli won.

We got into Nebraska about 9AM and ate at a bagel place that had hummus that tasted like toothpaste. Soon enough, we were at the house of the kid putting on the show whose name is Jeff. Charles, Simo, and Dave decide to go paint the town red with him while the rest of us stick around his house. We find a stack of photos and start flipping through them. There’s one of Rorschach, and then one of Heroin and then a picture of a naked man. The stack of photos then just turns into a series of naked men and women. Someone finds the box for something called “The Buttinski” that can be used discreetly and ‘in public’ according to the instructions.

The rest of our clan came back and I did Rye’s hair for the show. Local punks came over with their little sisters to oogle at the city slickers. Someone in Rye invites one of the sisters to the show, but she’s going to a bible meeting. Rye played a great set and after the show, we were invited to go swimming in a lake. Dave, Herb, Justin, Ralph and I go. Immediately, the locals make us feel uncomfortable by running out of the van while stripping naked before jumping in the lake. We kept to ourselves. Some guy came up to me and asked where Charles was. When I told him he was back at Jeff’s place he replied, “Oh man! I thought I was going to see Charles from Rorschach naked!”

Then, this happened:

Jeff: You’re a pretty big guy

Me: Yeah, I guess.

Jeff: Would you launch me off your back?
Me: No, I got a weak back

Jeff: Did you get it lifting amps tonight?

Me: No, I got it about a week back!

I’ve wanted to use that joke my whole life! I’m glad it finally came to some use!

When we got back to the house, Jeff asked if I wanted to slip into bed with him, but even the promise of air conditioning kept me out of his room. I fell asleep in a corner of the living room and was awaken by a scary thunderstorm. Mommy!

8/19/94 – Rapid City, South Dakota
Cool coffee house, shitty show. It was at this show I observed something that would become apparent in a lot of towns: New Jersey worship. Kids seem to be eating up the fact there is a member of Merel in the band and crowd around to ask questions about bands I don’t really care for. I felt like I should get out of the van and say, “I am from the musical mecca known as New Jersey! Touch the hem of my garment and I will spin tales of Mat Gard and Iconoclast”.

We stayed at a house that shocked us all due to its sheer dirtiness. It felt like everything should be picked up with a set of salad tongs. Simo, Dave and Justin retired to the van to sleep, but came crawling back after an hour. Charles steamrolled everyone in his sleeping bag, a crack session was had and we all fell asleep. I awoke the next morning to a low budget porn being on the TV. How nice. The male performer still had his socks on. Classy move.

We got our shit together and went cliff jumping with some locals. The water felt nice even though I felt like I was leaping to my death. We went to an all-you-can-eat vegan joint that bit horribly, but we left a dent in their food supply. We said our goodbyes and took off for the indie rock capital of Olympia, Washington. The ride there was a lot of fun with Charles leading everyone in a tear jerking rendition of The Hated’s “Rubber Bullets”. It was truly heartwarming.

8/21/94 – Olympia, Washington
We got to where the gig was, Justin Trosper’s house, around 6 PM. He has no front door. Before announcing he is going down the street to buy alcohol for teenagers, Justin attempts to give us directions to the local pizza place. There are a lot of hand signals, pointing, and giggling so we decided to figure it out on our own. After we got back, people began to show up and I felt very uncomfortable. 90% of these people are assholes who know they live in the hotbed of underground music. Their noses are either up in the air or up someone’s ass. But boy do they dress spiffy! To make up for being in their company, I got very drunk. When Rye began to play, everyone ran upstairs like they were giving away free barrettes up there or something. After Rye, The Teamsters played, a bunch of thirteen-year-olds who played garage punk. Their drummer Ian was very annoying. The night was closed out by a Justin Trosper side-project that everyone loved of course. After their set, someone threw on Raw Power. Watching all these lemmings dance around and sing along to it made me want to burn my copy of it when I got home. I actually ended up meeting some nice people towards the end of the night, but by that point, it was too little, too late. We stayed at annoying Ian’s house but I don’t remember much due to inebriation.

8/22/94 – Seattle, Washington - The Velvet Elvis
We left Olympia with annoying Ian as our guide to Seattle and surprise surprise, he barely knows how to get there! When we finally arrived, I scored a cool Stones book and a first print of Kerouac’s The Subterraneans. The show was at a place called The Velvet Elvis and it was pretty much what the name implied with lots of gaudy velvet paintings and leopard-skinned furniture. Unfortunately, the show reeked of the same bullshit as the Olympia one. Aw well. Ran into straight-edge gods Ron Guardipee and Tim McMahon and they only looked slightly peeved when I recanted my drunken behavior from the night before.

8/23/94 – Portland, Oregon
A very brief stay with the legend that is Jon Foster. Jon lived on the East Coast a few years ago but has returned to his native land, leaving our lives empty and dull. Jon’s cynicism and wit were much needed after dealing with the nimrods of Washington state. Unfortunately, our stay was cut short after Simonetti made a call and turned our day off tomorrow into a gig with Mohinder in Cupertino, California. Woah! Around midnight we said our goodbyes and headed to California with yours truly drunkenly singing along to The Smiths. Sorry, everyone. I fell asleep and woke up to Charles driving and playing a Violent Femmes cassette on repeat. When we crossed over the California border, Dave thought we should tell the officer we were fruit and bird thieves, but we talked him out of it.

8/24/94 – Cupertino, California
Got into Cupertino in mid-afternoon, but didn’t get to the house Rye was playing until early evening. Upon arrival, we found out the house was occupied by none other than “Encino Man” (or someone who bears a striking resemblance) We also found out the show was free. Great. Rye didn’t play so well. Mohinder, on the other hand, punched me in the nuts, picked my pocket, and stuck a big fist up my ass. It’s been a while since seeing a band this moving, and I don’t use words like moving a lot. They were trippy yet chaotic and only played three songs, but that’s all I needed. Rest assured they were the best band I’ve seen on the tour. Spent the rest of the night silk screening shirts and rapping with Mohinder guys. Later on, people in our party witnessed something involving Encino Man…and let’s just say they’ll never listen to the Melvins the same way again.

8/25/94 – Sacramento, California
We had time to kill, so it was decided to check out San Francisco before the show in Sacremento. On route, I discover I left my jacket in Cupertino. Then Ralph realizes he left his sleeping bag and pillow there. Marvy! Got into S.F and checked out various book and record stores. Me like town. Got into Sacremento in the 7 pm area. Various Yah-Mos are hanging out. This show seems pretty lame and it gets worse when local Offspring wanna-bes Recoil take the stage. The crowd seems to love them, though. Then again, most people here seem like they don’t know their ass from their elbow. While flipping through records in the store below the venue, I thought the floor would cave in on me from all the stomping. That Recoil…quite a crowd pleaser. After gig, we stay with Scott Turgenson from Sunny Sindicut records. His place was a pigsty in the middle of a very nice suburban neighborhood. “They wanna throw us off gthe block” tells Scott. I wonder if it has anything to do with your brown frontlawn and months worth of garbage outside. This was the first night of many where I would sleep in a chair. At some point while I was asleep, Charles apparently ran his fingers through Ralphs’ hair?

8/26/94 – Santa Barbara, California
This was a nice day. We had a good ride to Santa Barbara with good conversation and a kick ass game of Scatagories. Got to Santa Barbara and immediately liked it there. Everyone seems super cool and it’s not as much of an uptight scene as I thought it would be. Rye played well tonight and got a good reception. Kids swarmed to buy shirts and demos and at some point we ran out of demo covers. It looked like we were screwed until our new friend Nicki took us to Kinko’s and got them done for free! Got to meet the icon known as Kent McClard and he just seemed like an easy-going goofball to me. The show was on the campus of the University of Santa Barbara on a street full of frat houses, so there was some entertainment to see for sure. The sight of jocks getting tickets for drinking in public from a cop in shorts was just bizarre to me. I can’t put a number on the drunken fistfights I saw this night; one included the two participants jumping a fence to keeps the cops away. All this violence would only happen at a Kent McClard show I tells ya!

8/27/94 - Berkeley, California
While drifting in and out of sleep in a chair, I heard the words “Charles” and “hospital” in the same sentence. I shot up to find out he caught pink eye from one of Kent McClard’s cronies or something. Luckily, quick acting Dave took him to the emergency room and got some medicide so we could leave for Berkeley. Today is my 22nd birthday and I get to celebrate it at the Gilman Street Project with Naked Aggression. Great.

After hopping out of the van at Gilman, I spot Ben from Econochrist and Jesse Blatz right in front of my face…so you know it’s a punk rock scene! After those celebrity sightings, I naturally had to use the restroom in Gilman for a number two. Upon completion, locals acted like I had a death wish using those facilities. I don’t know…after this tour, it’s safe to say all public restrooms are vile and disgusting whether it's at a Shell station or a punk rock club. No biggie for me. In between songs, Naked Aggression declared they will ‘smash the state, tonight!’ Hooray! Free gas and snacks on the ride home! Up yours, pigs!

After Naked Aggression’s set, a female fire eater from France came on and was the most entertaining thing I saw all night. The idiotic punks shouted out requests for fire to be shot from her ass. Oh, please die! Afterwards, she was walking around asking for change. I gave her everything in my pocket and told her she was the epitome of entertainment. Due to being foreign, she didn’t really understand my lingo, so I just boiled it down to “You’re good” and she went back to collecting change from the other suckers.

After the show, a lot of young kids gathered around the van asking where the party was at. Ben Sizemore pointed them in the direction of a non-existent kegger. With this card along for the ride, we went to Brett Blue’s pad to pick him up for a late-night meal at the Jack London Cafe. Brett is like a bolt of lightning in a cornfield – just non-stop energy. Afterwards, we went back to Brett’s place and woke up a member of Han-Shan. Oh well, sorry. Before I fall asleep in yet another chair, I heard that Jawbreaker played a birthday party tonight. That would have been a cool way to spend my birthday rather than seeing Naked Aggression in the presence of a bunch of dummy punk rockers. Happy freakin’ birthday to me!

8/29/94 - BOULDER, COLORADO
This ride was hell. I kept on having bad dreams, but it might have been due to breathing in exhaust fumes. Somewhere in the 6 AM area, everyone and myself were thrown around the van like rag dolls. Ralph claimed he was ‘majorly cut off’. There wasn’t a friggin’ tricycle within ten miles of the van. Ralph stinks at driving and Simonetti keeps reminding him. After being stuck in the van for way too long, we finally got to Boulder and were greeted by a garage band hammering away at “Cut Your Hair” by Pavement down the street from Sonny Kay’s house.

We were at Sonny’s for about two minutes until some woman with a Volvo offered to take Dave and I out to eat while the rest of the band and crew stayed back at Sonny’s until the show. After a delicious dinner of Taco Bell and a lime frozen fruit bar, we got back on the road and caught up with the Rye van in an act of serendipity-do and eventually, it ended up in front of us. While we chatted during a red light, we noticed the van rolling backwards as Simonetti jumped out of the driver’s seat. Luckily, someone sane put the van in park before our carload of people were turned into cement meat.

We all get out of the vehicles to find out what the hell happened. Supposedly, Simonetti was fed up with Ralph’s backseat driving (I believe that situation is called ‘the shoe being on the other tootsie’) so he decided to take a powder and just jump out of the damned van at a red light. With his forceful attempt at putting it in park, he threw the van into reverse instead, but a quick-thinking Charles thankfully stopped the thing. Once Dave and I got over almost being squashed to death, we contemplated whether or not to look for Simonetti, and then decided it was the right thing to do. The van sets off for the show with a new driver while Dave and I stumble around Boulder looking for Simonetti. After 15 minutes, we found him and once in the car, he told us everyone had been against him for the entire tour and he’s got enough money to go home on a bus tonight. We said he was being silly, but Mike doesn’t want to hear it. He’s made up his mind and he’s leaving tonight.

We got to the gig and Charles ripped Simonetti a new one. Although Charles always looked like he was going to tear someone’s head off while singing for Rorschach, this is the first time I saw him actually angry and don’t want to see it again. Charles screamed at Simo for what felt like forever and then Mike ran off somewhere. After that, we loaded the gear into an empty 18 Wheeler – tonight’s venue. The space is about eight feet wide and Antioch Arrow, Unwound and Clikitat Ikatowi have played in this thing. How Antioch Arrow’s acrobatics and massive amount of equipment fit into this thing I don’t know because Rye had to stop almost immediately due to shit getting unplugged, knocked out of tune, etc. Nonetheless, Rye were pretty sloppy, but a 20 hour drive and one of your crew bailing at a red light will do that to you. People dug ‘em though – maybe it was the “a member or two of Merel” line on the flier that won them over? Ralph mistakenly clocked me in the eye during the last song. Thanks.

Afterwards, a guy who worked at a health food factory or something flowed us a literal pile of free tempeh burgers, soy cheese and not dogs. All he wanted for this feast was a Rye demo tape. I think he got ripped off.

Meeting up at the van, the only people missing were Simonetti and Ralph and I was elected to go look for them. Walking through this lot full of 18 wheelers, I almost tripped over Simonetti as he knocked rocks together Colonel Kurtz-style. I convinced him to go back to the van and he actually complied. I made my way out onto the street and randomly found Ralph in a silk screening shop where a party was in full effect. What in the actual fuck?

With everyone checked and accounted for, we headed over to Sonny’s for one of the most uncomfortable car rides I’ve ever been a part of in my life. Charles, Simonetti and I decided to start in on the vegan food we got at the gig. With our faces stuffed with free faux meats, the spat between Charles and Mike was forgotten and Simo will continue on with the tour. A real deal veggie junk food pow wow. Sonny is one of the coolest people we’ve stayed with on tour. Interesting dude with rad artwork and a kick ass band. Herb and I get stoned with Sonny’s roommate. We smoked it through a rock or something? One of us contemplated punching up the Spice channel on Sonny’s cable box, but luckily everyone fell asleep before it could happen.

DESPITE NOT REMEMBERING THEIR CONTEXT, THE FOLLOWING SENTENCES WERE SCRAWLED IN THE CORNERS OF THIS DIARY ENTRY:

There’s a guy with no eyebrows here and he looks shifty.

You know you’re hot.

Q: How’s my favorite guy in Rye? A: I don’t know, but I gotta go to the bathroom.

8/30/94 - Lincoln, Nebraska
Back for a second time in Lincoln, Nebraska – the town that is the equivalent for Rye as France is to Jerry Lewis. All the naked people we met a week ago are all here to greet us with open arms…maybe too open? The first band starts out with a song about their love for T.J Hooker. I retire to the van. Rye are OK, but everyone ate ‘em up. Ralph did his silliest dances of the tour tonight. After the show we met a guy named Chief Running Shoe and Herb bought me pizza and beer. How and why a 16 year old kid purchased beer, I don’t know.

We went back to the same house from last week and there was a party of massive proportions with the buttinski in full effect. After that extravaganza, a bit of a ruckus starts. Members of Rye say Charles and I have too many inside jokes. It got ugly, but it got ironed out after awhile…sorta. Ralph threatened to put the ‘mind scrambler’ on me. Charles, Dave and I went to a supermarket with a young woman who looked like Lisa Loeb. We got back to the house and I fell asleep in a chair. Somewhere in the early morning hours, I was awoken by someone watching a porno on the TV. I shut my eyes tight and pretended I was somewhere else.

9/1/94 - Milwaukee, Wisconsin
We got there late and caught the last two seconds of Cap’n Jazz’s set. Everyone ate up Rye and we retire to a dude from the band Animal Farm’s house. He made noodles and sauce and we watched Up In Smoke. After such laughter, I needed to use the restroom. I go to the facilities to see the book version of Fast Times At Ridgemont High sitting on top of the toilet. Just like the one on the cover of the second volume of Rodney On The Roq! I began to make high-pitched noises and residents of the house came to see what the commotion was. A woman who lived there said the book has been there since she moved in and she picked it up from time to time when using the can. I can’t believe this thing is so mistreated. I asked if I could have it and got a reply like, “Yeah, I don’t care”.

I wanted to have a plate of fries and a cup of coffee to begin reading this tome, so a local punker showed me the way to the nearest diner. While we’re walking, the punker spewed a lot of talk about revolution and the pigs. Since I’m in a tip top mood right now, I don’t tell him he’ll probably be a broken person selling shoes within the next five years. When we got to the diner, he sat down across from me and kept yapping. Oh no! So, instead of digging into Fast Times, I have to listen to this dude rattle off more crap.

As we walked back to the house, it dawned on me that I'm walking down a street in the middle of the night with no fear of my life. That’s weird. I caught a woman throwing away her trash, which included a huge leopard-print pillow. I asked if I could have the pillow, and she handed it to me directly. So now I am the proud owner of Fast Times At Ridgemont High in book form and a huge obnoxious leopard-print pillow. I love this town! Went back to the house and heard about a stash of photos containing nude men and women being found. What’s with people snapping nudes and keeping them around their house for all to see? This is the second time this has happened on this tour. Whatever. I fell asleep in a chair.

9/3/94 - Chicago, Illinois - Fireside Bowl
I finished Fast Times At Ridgemont High just as we pull up to the gig. A bowling alley! What a neat atmosphere! Rye were good. Universal Order of Armageddon played and were not the crazy circus show they usually are live. They didn’t even fall on the floor or anything! After way too much shmoozing for my tastes, we headed off with Kim Nolan as our Chi-town guide. Ralph decided to go to a midnight showing of Reservoir Dogs instead. We went out to eat and the following was consumed by me: vegan sausage, grilled cheese, vegan pancakes, onion rings, french fries and pie. I am fat.

Go to bed at Kim’s and kept getting woken up by drunken jocks partying on the other side of her building. It seems whenever I’m on the verge of sleep, these jocks drop a case of empty bottles out their windows. Thanks, guys. A few weeks after we got back, Charles heard the same jocks burnt up their side of the building after a massive party. Revenge is sweet, motherfuckers.

9/4/94 - Kalamazoo, Michigan
Shellac is playing their hometown of Chicago today. Not only are they simply playing, but it’s their first show ever in the city. So will I be able to stick around Chicago and witness this great event? No, of course not. Instead, I get to go with Rye Coalition to the last show of this tour in Kalamazoo, Michigan. Life is grand.

On the ride to Michigan, I discover the word “WOLF” written with marker on my tummy. Supposedly, Ralph wrote this on my stomach while I was asleep in Indiana a few days ago. This explains why everyone has been calling me “WOLF” for two days and the comments from Ralph like, “Are you going to be howling from the rooftops of Trenton when you get home, Wolf?” It also explains what all the giggling was about. It was about me!

For a last show on tour, this show is pretty uneventful and repeats like all the others. We show up super late while another band is playing, Rye plays and people worship them and this show is no exception except for Dave totally destroying his drum set. He broke the bass drum into tiny pieces and then demolished his snare after that. Pretty zany.

After the show, we are taken to a cheapo burrito place by the much talked-about Joel Wick. After that experience, we got in the van and headed back to lovely New Jersey. The ride home was as exciting as watching paint dry. We finally got into New Jersey around 11 AM the next day. We dropped Charles off first and the last thing he said was, “I don’t wanna see any of you suckers every again!” Sadly, he had no choice when we got a flat tire not a mile away from his house. We called him and as usual, he saved our asses. I got back to my car in Bayonne and headed back to Trenton with my leopard print pillow to find myself in debt with family issues and numerous other things to make my life hell. And now I take the time out of my busy schedule to tell you the tale.

Moral of the story: Never get in a van with Ralph.