Richmond KY is the greatest city in the history of civilization. Sort Of.
I woke in a comfortable bedroom, hacking significantly less than the night before. I could hear that people were up and about already. Blythe was passed out next to me, snoring with cartoonish exuberance. I crawled out of bed, still grunting with guttural disturbance. In the kitchen, Ishi was searching for breakfast.
|Not authentic "Blythe Snoring" picture|
Soon Blythe was up, and she took up the mantel of coffee creator. A French press, percolator, and coffee syringe were rolling before anyone even noticed that there wasn’ coffee. My throat was still bothering me a bit, so I dropped back some of last night’s sparkling Italian wine. It worked.
The talk of the group was that there was a $1 movie theater in town, but it was doubted that there was enough time to see the movie, have some food, and show up on time for the show. Blythe piped up that we have a NetFlix account. Also, Mark Maxey has an extensive library of movies available to watch on the giant TV in the Living Room.
I made the mistake of exhibiting interest in “The Poughkeepsie Tapes”. I had heard that this little movie had made a splash on festival circuits, and I said as much to Ishi and Tyler. Before I knew it, I was barraged with fake interviews about a fake serial killer, and fake videos of women being tortured in a basement. This is not a condemnation of the movie as such. It’s an effective horror movie based on a documentary format. But who wants to watch a series of videos about women being tortured on a sunny afternoon before having to put on an energetic show?
When it was over, Laura had made a bunch of Sandwiches and French fries, so we put on something a little lighter. We settled on The Sting, and thoroughly enjoyed it until it was time to saddle up and roll on to Richmond.
In less than an hour, we were at The Paddy Wagon. The place was nearly empty when we arrived. While setting up, some people filtered in. The Bloodroots Barter and ourselves decided on trading off sets again. The Paddy Wagon has a large stage, which gave us plenty of room to set up all of our stuff. In a while, we were rolling through our set. The crowd seemed pretty appreciative (with screams and shouts and dancing) for about 2 tunes. Then everyone left the bar. After another tune, Blythe turned to me and said “I’m getting sick, NOW!”
We had no choice but to finish the set. Five or so tunes later, Blythe bolted off the stage and disappeared. The Bloodroots climbed up and launched into their setup, while I ran out to the van to search for the now infirmed Blythe. She was laying in the van, sweating and saying “I got sick. It came out of nowhere.” I shoved an aspirin in her face and we strolled back into the bar. The Bloodroots pounded through their set.
We were preparing to return to the stage when Casey offered Blythe a cocktail of Yellowroot, Ginseng, and ice. With an aspirin and some mountain medicine in her blood, Blythe was ready to mount the stage again. We swept through our second set, and tumbled off the stage. Bloodroots Barter wrapped up the night again with an impromptu dance party.
The night went quite well, despite health problems and an odd crowd. Next we had to find our way to Holler in the Holler, the festival at which we were playing in the morning, and sleeping for the night. We bid farewell to our friends, Rick and Tara, and drove off into the night.
Before long we found ourselves in the middle of nowhere, driving on precarious gravel roads, searching for the campground for the festival. After some tricky three point turns with the Bloodroots’ bus, we found the fields in question. It was mere minutes before we had our tent set up and were laying in our sleeping bag, listening to the drum circle in the distance.
Tomorrow… Show in the morning, free beer, creepy motel, and show at night in Cincinnati.