Ol' Trusty...Part Two...

“Oh man. No way. This can’t be happening.” we softly uttered as the engine seized… 

Our band had been invited to play an event for a rock radio station in Philadelphia. We hadn’t played together in almost a year, we had no new material to showcase, some of us moved to other states and we would only be able to get one rehearsal in…we went for it. We missed each other and needed a excuse to play music together again. Besides, we are professionals right? We would all remember the lyrics, harmonies and parts after a hour of rehearsing right? Sure - it's like riding a bike - 'we got this' repeats over and over again in my head.

I landed back in Philadelphia to rehearse, caught up over some beers, packed up and we were on our way. Chris and I drove our ramshackle van full of equipment while the other guys went separately due to prior obligations. When we get together we think we are invincible and even at our age, which is closer to 30 that 20, we find ourselves reverting to our adolescent mindsets. Even the worst ideas seem probable after we all convince one another it's possible. Case in point - driving our band van, which is literally falling apart, 20+ miles to Philadelphia. 

Our final destination...if we make it there...

We got this...

Right before we departed there was a (very) quick conversation about the  possibility of the van not making it. Back up plan? Nope. “She is going to make it! There is no other option!” We decided as we all raised a toast to the van that has gotten us around the world and back. “Here goes nothing.” Chris whispered in a moment of clarity “Okay Ol’ Trusty…all you have to do is get us there. We will take it from there.” caressing the steering wheel. I turn and place my hand on the dusty dashboard. "We got this."

There was traffic so we decided to make our into New Jersey and then cut back over into Philadelphia from there. This made sense if you were driving a vehicle that was well maintained and knew it was going to get your to your final destination. In our case though this was a tricky maneuver. If the van died in New Jersey we were screwed. We crossed the bridge from Delaware in to New Jersey and all was going well. As we had reached the crest of the bridge there was a loud, unnerving bang. Where did it come from? Chris and I side-glanced at each other. “Did you feel that?” I asked. “It’s nothing! Ol’ Trusty will get us there!” Chris responded and then it happened - the van shut off. Died. We were motionless at the crest of the bridge like a roller coaster at the top of its track. “No way!” We both barked “Start rocking forward and hopefully we can coast down the rest of the bridge!” We rocked and pushed and then she went. The centrifugal force and gravity started to pull us into New Jersey as we coasted with a dead van full of equipment. “Oh man! Do the brakes still work?” as I turn to Chris who is throwing an open container out the window. He responds “Man! This is probably an awful time to tell you that the van is uninsured!” We both scream held each other and pray for the best as we careened towards the garden state.

Frantically, Chris pumps the brakes as we whiz by a colorful "New Jersey Welcomes You" sign. We were running out of road fast as we see our lane was coming to an end. "Woo! The shit hit the fan quick on this one, baby!" Chris yells and he jerks the wheel steering us into another lane. I could see there was a fork in the road at the end of the bridge. "Aim for that shoulder man! If we can land there we'll be fine!" I point as I pull out my phone to document with a quick social media post...and to send to the rest of our band to keep them up to date with our current whereabouts. What? If we are going down like this I want social media to know we went out in glory. "Already ahead of you!" Chris responds as our ship starts to course correct towards the fork 's shoulder. 

With a screech of the tires, a cloud of black road dust and a touch of luck we land on the shoulder of the road. We wipe the sweat from our brows and slowly turn to look at each other in awe. After a wide-eyed, jaw dropped pause of amazement we slowly crack smiles. "Holy shit! We did it!" Double checking my phone for the video playback. "Damn straight we did. Now, lets fix this beast." Chris motions to me exiting the drivers seat to pop the hood. In a few moments, along with a a lot of cursing, hitting the engine with hammers and readjusting battery connections we were back on the road.

"I don't know? Should we hit it with a hammer?" - Matt & Chris

The rest of the ride was steady besides a few pops and sputters. We made it to the venue in time to load in, sound check and grab a brew together. The show went on and we had a blast seeing all our family, friends and creating memories. See…like I said…we got this.

-YourFriendMatt

Ol' Trusty...Part One...

"Dude, this could be her last ride. It's only right we take her." I said to Chris convincing him to take the dilapitated band van to our most recent show.

Throughout the years music has taken me across the nation and back. I consider these some of the most formative years of my life. When you are 1,400 miles from home, have no money, everything you own is broken or smelly you learn a thing or two. Since my friends and I started playing music we have destroyed every one of my mom's cars, most of my friend's parents cars, every one of our own cars, vans bought strictly for the band (old or new) and now we have a hand-me-down 2005 Ford FreeStar.

The band van is a beautiful thing. It's your safe house. Office. Board Room. Mobile home. Sales force..makeshift acoustic performance stage...salvation and worst nightmare. I've learned more about  auto repair on the side of the highway...at night...in a state I've never been too...with 18-wheelers whizzing by...underage...in the snow...than I ever will in a driveway. All in all seeing new things from a bench seat in a busted van was one of my favorite parts of the journey.

Up until this point of my life preforming has been something I have always done. I have had a chance to play with some great musicians in Los Angeles since my move but haven't hit a stage in a few months. When my old band got a call from the biggest rock radio stations in Philadelphia to preform live we all went for it. I landed in Philadelphia the day before the show and we ran through our normal setlist, caught up and went home to get a good night sleep.

We gathered on the day of the show at Chris' house to get a plan together. We needed to figure out how we were going to get our equipment to the show. Take separate cars? No, that is lame. Then it dawned on us (well at least me) that the old band van was still sitting out front.

Side-note: A quick back story on this van: It was Chris' families van for years. It has carted him and his siblings to countless karate and basketball tournaments. As the years progressed the air conditioning eventually gave up resulting in too many summer adventures with both sliding doors open...including a trip all the way to Outer Banks, NC from Swedesboro, NJ with the doors open. I know the van has been in at least one accident on the highway and after that they gave it to Chris...who never fixed the headlight. Why bother? Something is also wrong with the battery connection so we had to carry around a little wrench to undo the positive connection to the battery everywhere we went. We would show up to work, pop the hood and unhook the battery...besides all that...this van is a gem and we wouldn't have it any other way. One more thing, it looks like this on the inside...

"Dude! Let's take the van!" I screech cracking an ice cold Pabst. "I don't know man, I haven't started her in months." Chris says turning to me. "Dude, this could be her last ride. It's only right we take her. Who knows when we will do this again!" Sipping and spitting beer everywhere. Chris shrugs with a half-assed sigh and we make our way outside to check out the van.

She sits on the street waiting for us to come check her out. She hasn’t been moved in months and there is a layer of yellow and brown dust pollen covering her exterior. One of the tires is just about flat but we know we can make it to the gas station to fill it back up. As we peer in the back tinted windows we see our previous filth from the last ride…and its disgusting…just the way we like it. “Let’s pop the hood and connect the battery!” Chris yells getting more energized remembering all the good times we have had in this beauty.

There was a zap of blue electric that shocked us as we reattached the positive connection to the battery. “Yes!” We belted with a second wind of excitement. This was a good sign and we both knew it. Chris ripped open the driver side door ready with his keys and turned the ignition. She turned over with a sputter, pop - and finally roared like a dying old bird…our dying old bird. “Well boys I guess we know how we're are getting to the show! Let’s start packing!”

We packed, drank the last of our beers and decided it was time to head to Philadelphia. Half of our band had to drive separate due to obligations after the show and work the next morning. This was no big deal - Chris and I found it poetic. We had started a lot of bands together and worked on more music than either of us could remember. We had no idea when we would get the chance to drive to preform together again so it made sense to us that the rock gods aligned the stars this way. It was like we were 17 again.

To be continued...

YourFriendMatt

First World Problems...

 "Motherfucker." I said after calmly collecting myself from furiously punching, screaming at and shaking the steering wheel.

Since embarking on our adventure to California we have experienced nothing but car trouble. The SUV we drove from the chilly east coast died almost immediately upon arrival here in sunny California. She served her purpose, got us here safely and then gave up the ghost like a good soldier. It's all I asked of her. We lucked out when our friends Greg and Rick drove my other car out west from Philadelphia giving us another shot at LA traffic bliss...but now we have another problem (see picture above).

My 2004 Ford Focus, with all manual features standard, has been a godsend. She has taken me all over the east coast and now out west to tackle what this terrain has to offer. Sure her ignition sticks and you have to hit the steering column with a hammer every once in a while...sure the radio will just cut out for no reason sometimes ruining your chance at harmonizing the chorus of your favorite song...sure that passenger side mirror has never worked and makes merging a fun game of life or death...but overall...she's a gem. 

When I got the call from Jamie stating she couldn't get the key to turn I thought she was full of shit. We have been through this exact scenario a million times. The ignition just sticks and will get stuck now and then. Once you give the steering column a good love tap with a handy-dandy hammer it loosens up. "Jamie, my cousin who I never see is visiting and we are grabbing a drink. If I leave to travel across town to try and fix this it had better be officially stuck." Immoral words I wished I never used in retrospect. When I arrived at the scene like the knight in shining armor I think I am I arrogantly jumped into the driver's seat. Jamie was in the passenger and looked at me like I was the world's biggest dickhead. Which I am. "We'll be out of here in a minute and then we are heading back to catch my family for a drink." I state as I try to turn the key confidently. Stuck. A worried slightly embarrassed "Haha" Shot out of my mouth. "Uh, must give it a little more muscle." I try again as Jamie's eyebrows cock and a smirk creeped across her face. 

After about an hour of punching, hair pulling, screaming, yelling and explicitly expelling every curse I know (and some I made up) trying to turn the key with no success we decided to call roadside assistance. "Motherfucker." I say under my breath and let out a deep sigh. This thing was like the fucking Sword in the Stone, only the chosen one could get this thing to move. I have no idea how something like this happens. Imagine the key to your car ignition would not turn and get back to me. Don't take it for granted the next time you get in the car to zip off to the mall, corner store or...to grab drinks with your family...which at this point after trying to turn a key for two hours...were surely cancelled.

We called roadside assistance, found the closest Ford service station, found a ride home and were quoted 60 minutes for the tow truck to come get us...which gave us plenty of time to get the car to Ford to be fixed. When we realized we only had 10 minutes to get to the garage and we were still on the side of the road, long past our 60 minute rescue quote time, we got worried. I called the tow company, our insurance company and Ford. No one has ever heard of a "Matt" before. Fucking fantastic. Hearing "Who are you again?" is never a good response. Evidently the fax had never went through from our insurance company to the tow company to come get us. Make sense right? "What the fuck? Who uses a fax in the first place? What the fuck even is a fax?" Echoed in my head, that was currently on fire with fury, when they told me this. 

Jamie told me to calm down as I ferociously confiscated her phone and started dialing all parties numbers. I had our insurance company and tow company on 3 way on my phone and Ford on Jamie's "Mr. Bates we apologize for the inconvenience, Ford has a parking lot you can get the car towed to tonight after hours and they will look at the car first thing in the morning." Said the representative from our insurance company in a monotoned voice. "Uhhh, no we don't" responded the 20 year old valley girl receptionist from Ford. All parties were on speakerphone to hear each other. I stared at the phones, sat for a minute and responded quietly with "Guys. Do you see why I hate you all." Calmly like a serial killer and I paused "None of you have your shit together. Please communicate with each other before you present me a house of lies." My voice escalating. "Get me and my girlfriend off the goddamn side of the road immediately and somebody get my fucking car fixed" Now screaming every word. Another pause and a breath "Please." Trying to force my manners. I am not a total asshole but I think this specific scenario warrants a curse here or there. Jamie was mortified.

At the end of the day the car was finally towed...another hour later. Our tow truck operator Caesar didn't know who we were or where the car was going. We had to make another call to his boss to get it straightened out again...but he was at least a nice guy. I didn't give him shit and we laughed. It's not his fault his company is run by a bunch of motherfuckers. At this point I just gave up...signed the papers...and prayed I would see my car again someday.

YourFriendMatt