(wrote this yesterday)

Last night, we played DC at a club called The Red And The Black. Both bands we played with, Dawn Treader, and Constants, were very nice and very good. The people at the club were very good to us as well. While bandmate-Matt was catching up with his cousin, Kenny and I split a bowl of chicken gumbo and talked pretend-shit about Matt (bandmate Matt) while Matt Earfarm recorded. Matt EarFarm got his favorite meal: red beans and rice.

The show was by no means a sold out show, but we played for a good crowd and we made enough money to pay for about a tank and a half of gas. We were happy with our performance. It was a good way to start off the tour.

When we got back to Matt’s cousin’s apartment, we drank a couple beers and listened to some This American Life stories. Then we all got in our sleeping bags and went to bed.

When we woke up, we were immediately laughing. I realized this morning that in the last 15 hours, I had laughed more than I had in about 2 months.

As I write this, we’re driving from DC to Chapel Hill. I love looking at how the land is divided up into subdivisions, forests, farms, industrial parks, etc. Every time we pass a pond or a stream, I want to run out and cast a fishing line.

Kenny is DJ’ing, alternating between country and metal. Matt EarFarm is driving, singing along. He’s probably got a better voice than any of us. Bandmate-Matt snacks, dozes off, then snaps awake to air-drum along with the songs.

Hmmmm…what else? We’ve got to be better about selling merch, and we’ve got to find a hardshell storage case for the roof of the mini-van. It’s tighter in here than we thought.

I never want to work again. I don’t think any of us want to. This is fucking awesome.

So this is it. We’re out. One of my all time favorite quotes seems entirely appropriate right now:

Alexander Herzen to his son, Sasha in his 1848 book of essays, “From the Other Shore.”

“We do not build, we destroy; we do not proclaim a new truth, we abolish an old lie. Contemporary man only builds the bridge; another, unknown man of the future will walk across it. You perhaps will see it. I beg of you: Do not remain on this shore.”

See ya!

Just a quick thank you/acknowledgement to 423smith for not only letting, but asking, me to post (what were you thinking?!). Even playing a single show in our hometown has enough exciting, chaotic, important, funny, and notable moments that it can be hard to keep them straight after a day or two. So, if nothing more, this will be a good place for me to just jot things down, keep them straight.

It’s the day before we leave, and a lot of things are running through my mind. I’ve never been away from home for more than a week. Even when I went to college, my entire family moved house at the same. I drove myself to college in Illinois (from New Jersey). As I was arriving in my new home, they were arriving in theirs - a place I had to yet to see. So even college wasn’t like leaving home: it was more like simply moving into a new one.

So, I’m a little overwhelmed from a practical standpoint. Here it is my last day, and I’m finally making a list of things to do and buy.

Of course, that’s the last thing I want to do.

What I want to do is see all of my friends. Or no wait, maybe just a close few of them. Or, no wait, maybe just one special person. No, maybe all of them. Or maybe just my bandmates. Maybe have a big, Thanksgiving-like feast. Or maybe something small and safe to eat - something that won’t upset my stomach.

I am probably the last person who should be writing a journal about this. Every time I go to really connect with what this tour means, I pull my hands away from the keyboard. It means a lot. And I suspect more than I even know.

I keep thinking about all the support we’ve gotten here. There’s Matt from Ear Farm who’s not only blogged about us countless times, but is riding with us on the entire tour to make a documentary. There’s a guy named David, a fan from NJ, who booked about half our tour. And yet, he’s so grateful to be on our guestlist (we wish we could give you more). There’s Tammy who’s designed our t-shirts, flyers, (and a website that’s being built), and her husband Andrew; together they have seen fit that I have a cozy sweatshirt and shoes without holes. There’s Nick Brown, who created our cover art for our EP, on which we’re touring (he’s not only a friend, he’s a roommate… and he may actually be my brother). There’s Victoria, who booked shows in Austin and welcomed us on the bills. And she got us AAA. There’s the Jones Street Boys who had us join them on their bill for our tour kick-off show (Jones Cube was amazing, by the way). There’s Insound who have featured us in all kinds of ways. And there’s the anonymous person who dropped off a US Army bag filled with about 20 pounds of tour-supplies. I’ve missed a lot of people, I know, but I’ve got to keep this to a reasonable length.

The point is, we’ve had staggering support.

And I can say this: For reasons such as the people above, I have never once, in all my time in NYc, ever wanted to leave. Every time I’ve been on a plane that’s lifting off the LaGuardia or JFK runway, and NYC banks and fades away beneath me, I have felt sad. But this is the first time I have ever been really excited to leave. I am going to see places in the USA that I never thought I’d visit. And I am also going to old homes of mine (Champaign, Austin, Chicago). I’ll be meeting a lot of new people, and I’ll be seeing a lot of old friends and family.

And I’ll be doing it with my best friends, who also happen to be the most talented people I know. And almost every night, we’ll get to play music. No work. All music and talking and driving and sleeping.

It’s hard to suppress a smile when I think of that.

I guess I just keep going back to last night. We were all at the bar, and Matt - the bass player, the guy I’ve known for a decade now (and have been in about 15 bands with) - simply said, “Man, I can’t wait to leave.”

Yeah. Enough said.

423smith house band Goes Cube is firing up their sweet ass mini-van and barnstorming the USA throughout the month of March. What is life like on the road? What do you eat? Where do you stay? How are the crowds in Ypsilanti? If you take four dudes and put them in an enclosed space for 4 weeks, how many weird smells do you have? David “Ayatollah of Rock and Rolla” Obuchowski is here to give us a daily update about going on a DIY tour of the states.