Today was, by far, my favorite day on tour. I’m sure you can tell by the title why that is. If not, just wait and see. Beth had to get up early to work the first part of her double that day, but she let us sleep in and try to piece together the night before. Seb Twot had work to tend to and Sweet Lydiot needed to visit some family. So Daddy Popop, The Gremlin and I decided to take a drive and visit the oldest bar in Oklahoma. It was about forty minutes away and we started talking about all the songs we knew that referenced California girls. Jeff even downloaded the Katie Perry song and laughed at me because I knew all the lyrics. Give me some slack, I work with teenagers…and secretly love Katie Perry. But that’s neither here nor there. We arrived at Eischen’s and the smell of fried chicken was so hard it made me want to slap your momma. The rule is no forks, knifes or plates. And they put this odd blue sand on the ground to sop up all the grease that falls down so people don’t crack their skulls open. The chicken was scrumptious town and we made it back into to town with just enough time to make our radio appearance at Spy Radio 105.3. Ferris was the only DJ working and got us all set up to play three songs and do a short interview. I got nervous when we did these radio spots, especially this one because it was live-live and we couldn’t hear a single lyric while we recorded. Adachi told me to “get the bigger ball so you not so nervous.” I did what he said and the performance was a nice warm up for the show that night at The Conservatory.
All of the Oklahomies were out that night, so we shared hangover stories and started round two maskoki style. The first band to go on was Museum. This was a power duo, drums and guitar. They played driving songs with great stops and entertaining progressions. Museum incorporated some soft hooty yottles in their choruses. After them, The White Sluts jumped around like a slew of Tasmanian devils. They had a fan/friend that danced around on stage the whole time with a black sheet lined with gold frills. They began the set with a long intro that bled into a funky rock scream mix. These sluts were some hard break beatin slashy motherfuckers.
As we were slamming drinks with Lydiot’s peeps, Begona’s husband, Grant, told me that he had some friends flying into town that night. I asked him who his friends were and he calmly stated that the Circa skate shoe team was starting a tour in Oklahoma. Holy fuck balls!!! I skated avidly for about 18 years and watched skate videos all throughout my adolescence. So Seb Twot and I hopped in a car with Pepper and stopped off at The Drunken Fry for a few free b’s before heading to The Hi Low. Once we got there, the Circa crew rolled in shortly after. Grant introduced me to Don “The Nuge” born and raised in Oklahoma, Frank Gerwer of Anti-Hero Fame, Peter Ramondetta and Lee, a fantastic photographer and videographer. Frank and Peter live in SF, but I had never met them before. No wasting time, we headed over to Edna’s with the crew for a few rounds of lunch boxes. I wasn’t exactly sure what was in them until I asked Sweet Lydiot days later, but they were presented as a shot glass already dropped in a pint glass. The flavors were familiar: amaretto and oj dropped in a Coors Light. Begona kept passing hers off to me but wanted me to keep it a secret that she couldn’t finish them. Back over to The Hi Low, we were able to catch up with True Womanhood. Remember, the band we played with in Dallas that blew my socks off? Anyway, they pushed their set back because they knew we were playing The Conservatory and wanted to catch their entire set. More lunch boxes at The Hi Low, but at that bar they call it a “Happy Meal,” which Seb Twot and I have little recollection of, and a bucket of whiskey, and some beers, and maybe even an Irish car bomb or three. Fuck if I know.
The Grems had already purchased a bottle of Maker’s Mark at the beginning of the evening predicting some kind of after party. Miracle happen on genius. So we took the whole crew over to Beth’s house where we found Seb Twot trying to break in. We stopped him in his tracks and knocked on the door like civilized drunken assholes. Beth answered the door, gave us the place for the night and disobedience ensued. We chatted with the Circa crew passing Maker’s every which way and Frank even serenaded us with an impromptu freestyle. It was nice to hang out with everyone for our last night in Oklahoma. There’s no place like Oklahoma.