Yesterday was spent driving around Jersey in a Subaru.
First, we made a quick visit to Adam’s mom’s place in Morristown (the same place where we got flu shots on the DVD documentary) (yes, if you still haven’t picked up Guster On Ice it contains exclusive footage of Guster receiving flu shots from Adam’s mom) — she gave us a bag of cherries and sent us on our way.
Then a stop at whatever crappy smoothie/sandwich chain was open in Morristown Center. The girl who took our order recognized us and asked if we’d sign our receipt, proving once and for all that suburban Northern Jersey is The Place Where We’re Most Likely To Be Recognized in the entire world. Then she served us bland chicken caesar wraps with a side of three tortilla chips (one blue, one red, one yellow) for $8.
From there it was on to some random parking lot where our old trailer lives, piled to the ceiling with years of accumulated crap — old guitars, boxes and boxes of “Guster Is For Worcester” stickers, rehearsal space rugs, and lo & behold (first and last time ever typing that phrase, I promise)… The Big Friend.
I thought he was dead.
Hello, my childhood friend. You have not aged well in a cardboard box inside a trailer parked in a gravel lot in New Jersey. But it is good to see you. How are you? Where is your left eye?
ROAD JOURNAL BONUS CONVERSATION!
Transcription of a conversation between Brian Rosenworcel and Rufus Wainwright backstage in Gilford NH on July 1st:
RW: Did you see that there’s a chiropractor here?
BR: Yeah, I think I’ll skip it. Did you set that up?
RW: I don’t think so. I think she’s from the venue. Did you know chiropractics are illegal in France?
BR: No …. what else is illegal in France?
RW: I don’t know. Murder?
