I spent the morning looking at rich people. I helped Monroe out at his work. I assembled a very swank wedding album. It was fun work. People look so very happy at their wedding. Those days are like alternate universes or suspended realities. The wedding of this piticular couple looked especially magical. But of course, the more magical you want it to be, the more money is needed to create the illusions or artifaces. What am I saying? I guess one could argue that you could have true "magic" at a modest wedding. One could also say that true love can be found at wealthy nuptuals. So again, what am I saying? There's a lot of green to be made in the wedding biz, I guess.
I left Monroe at noon and began to drive to Muncie IN. My side project band, Tom Adamson and the Automatic Rhythm Section played a show at a record store in the Ball State "village." The name of the venue was Village Green Records. But before we get there, let's talk about the drive down.
It was a very hot day. In the van, I rolled my pant legs up to my knees. I think I pulled the look off. The rest of the day, I kept my pant legs rolled above the ankles, like "floods." I took back roads mainly to get there. At one point I was listening to Alanis Morissette's Unpluged Album. It was given to me by my friend Erin when we were in college. The batteries in my CD player died, but it was a nice twist of fate becuase I was listening to this old music, returning to the places I first heard them. The greater Marion/Upland/Muncie area was my college stomping grounds. On a small detour in the heart of central Indiana farm country, I passed through a tiny town called McGrawsville. The grain elevators were bigger than the houses, all five of 'em. Just north of the town, I went over a bridge and saw a big creek shimmering in the sun. As I drove on, I thought, "man, i'm so hot, I should just get out and wet my feet and wade a minute." But I was running late so I didn't stop. But I didn't like myself for not stopping. At 70 miles per hour, I flew passed these immaculate farm houses and quiet barns. I second guessed the pace of my life. The people who live in these farms are traditional people, no doubt. My mind free associated them with the evangelist Billy Grahm.
Long before he appeared in DC Talk concert videos and stuff, like in the 50s, he denounced rock n roll. In the old Valpo farmhouse, in '03, I once stumbled upon a book from the 50s called, "Billy Grahm talks to Today's Youth." It was thin book in question and answer format. I found the question "What do you think of this new Rock n Roll music?" In a slightly diplomatic way he answered, "I can't say much for the music itself, but I can tell you I don't like what it does to young people." And it was because of rock n roll that I was in a hurry. I didn't like that it wouldn't let me stop for a while and enjoy the simple pleasure of cold water on a 95 degree day.
I arrived in Muncie almost on time and discovered on the exit ramp that I had been right behind Daniel. I waved to each other on McGalliard. (A word that rhymes with beer) We drove in tandem to the venue, an unassuming, white bungalow house with lots of ironic (pretentious?) decorations about. Like a closet door poster of Mike Singletary on the side of the house or some plastic yard deer on the roof. All in all, the store, the owner, and the clientelle all got the Tom seal of approval. We met up with Mike shortly and cooled off at Scotty's Brewhouse which was on the corner. We sat at the bar and caught up on what was going on in each other's lives. It's funny how we can know each other very deeply in the sense that we know how one another is going to react or be in a situation, and yet we don't know the arcane details of one another's lives. We only play a show every four months, but we go so far back that even though we don't "know" each other very well anymore, we still "know" each other intimately.
After our rounds we took a walk into the campus. Time with Mike and Dan always has and still involves a lot of walking. We walk and talk. We tried to get into a couple buildings, but they were closed. After taking the long way back, we hung out in the record store. There was a couch and a TV we watched some Simpsons and browsed through the records. Jared, the owner, let us have some bottled cola for free and some icee pops. There was a 12 year old boy there. He just wandered in and out a lot. The store is his home away from home. He sold me a bag of chips for 25 cents. They were supposed to be free.
We were the first of three bands. It was one of those shows where for the most part the bands take turns being the audience. Throughout the evening, there were other friends there too. But it was very low key. We played very well, I thought, 10 songs. With the exception of the solo at the end of the last song, we were in the pocket. We played on a big piece of carpet right on the street corner in the lawn. It was great.
The band after us was Buffalo Meltdown, a supergroup conglomerate of bands from the Richmond Indiana scene. Mike grew up in Richmond as well as Billy, mike's life long friend. Billy played with these and still does in numerous line ups. They were a lot of fun and had some cool songs. Some of their songs were prequels and sequels to each other. They used banjos and jaguar baratone for bass, and recorders in harmony. Mike played on the last song, a guided by voices cover. He switched into "old mike" mode. drum sticks over the head. but they were tight when he played with them.
After their set, the three of us and Billy went over to Jimmy Johns and talked. We got into the topic of fasting which led into christianity and the emergent church and the separation of church and state. It was nice to hash things out.
Billy gave us some 7 inces from his record label, they sound great. Third Uncle Records. I really want to make a 7 inch. Its like 500 for $600. Very do-able.
On the way home when the Alanis had given way, I listened to silence and prayed out loud. The last 45 minutes were quite dodgy, glad I made it home alive.