Aural Suppository: All Aghast on the West Coast

So, the mighty Aghast are taking their usual constitutional around the west coast for the summer. I dropped John a line about content for AS (yes, he's actually the co-author of this blog), and I'll just drop the quote in here:

"Hey dude... forgot to include you in my group email that Im trying to keep a tour blog at mundanearcana. Feel free to cut and paste on to AS if you want."

Thanks.

At any rate, as John did go to world of higher education to learn the king's English properly, it is, as usual, a good read.

So far he's up to post number two, but I'll just put them up here one at a time:

Thursday, June 11, 2009

If you're reading this, you have the city of Long Beach to thank

I wasn't sure if I wanted to bother keeping a tour log on this trip. And I'm still not sure that I do. But there have already been a few moments, brought to you by (and I know I said this last year too) the seriously beat-down burnout of a town that is Long Beach. I commented to Forrest earlier today about the incredibly high number of obviously intoxicated and/or visibly mentally ill people wandering the streets. We had a chuckle about it, but...it's not really hyperbole. Forrest speculated that it was a shared quality among beach towns and likened it to Virginia Beach. Here are a couple of great micro-encounters we've had with the locals so far:

1. In order to facilitate easy unloading of our bags last night, Alan briefly double parked his van in the mouth of an alley by his place, blocking the sidewalk. It's around 1:30am. We were inside a few minutes later, and a woman accosts Alan in his doorway and asks, "Is that your van?" "Yeah." "Ok, I need to get your name." Nothing about the woman's appearance suggests she has an even distant relation to the law enforcement profession. "Why do you need my name?" "Oh, uh... never mind." She walks away.

2. Forrest and I were walking back to Alan's after lunch today, and a hard-livin' type dude asked Forrest who did his "tat work," which was visible on both of his sleeveless arms. Due to an underabundance of teeth in the guy's mouth, I thought he had asked Forrest who did his tax work, which I thought an odd but not unreasonable question. Everyone needs tax work done now and again. Forrest replied that the artist is a friend of his back in Virginia. We continued the last half block to Alan's, where we hung outside for a minute. The guy stopped to chat briefly. "I got a friend who does that. He rides a bike around. Name's Tattoo."

Back to the big picture. All three of us had delayed flights thanks to the positively biblical weather visited on the mid-Atlantic last night. (By biblical, I mean "diluvian," not "weather that never happened," but thank you for asking.) Forrest's flight took off less than an hour late, but landed five minutes after his connecting flight was supposed to leave Cleveland. Run, Forrest, Run he did and made it. My flight was two hours late. Shravan had to spend the night in Atlanta. Fail. But here we all are. Forrest and I drove into LA to pick up Shravan this afternoon because poor Alan needs to vacate his home/record store by tomorrow, so he's off hauling all his shit into storage. He's also been throwing out a bunch of stuff, and while we were helping him last night, he made Forrest carry a box of overrun Parasytic covers to the dumpster lol. Right now S and F are practicing the set list with me occasionally vacating the keyboard to tap out a fill on the desk. Tour's so easy.