the onset of a boston friday was slow at first
hot and heated but rock was the question and we had a hunch as to the answer

a monster looms and the fens are alive
the van lays tucked within the old neighborhood

a solid rock. a healthy rock like a fine dry wine

our first show at bill's bar was a show full of firsts
first cover in a while - marley's punky reggae party
first live performance - grape II
(my first use of guitar onstage, on my personal favorite tune)

especially rockin sets by baker and midatlantic
as well as new jersey's status green with their own style of raw meets snazzy

said our goodnights and headed home to chill by the garden with friends

and on to the next.
-laff

Setlist:
Suckerpunch
Thoroughfare Vexation
Next Step
Grape II (first time live)
I.G.P.
Punky Reggae Party (cover)
Waiting Room
Cosmopolitic
Lost Parade

After spending a solid week with Vary Lumar on the Summer 08 Run, I'm honored to have been asked to write the final entry into the tour journal. I will try to avoid lame anecdotes, but make no promises. As the only non-band member on tour, it may be hard to refrain. Writing about my overall impressions of the tour and the last day, I may be long winded.

From the moment that Paul, Rob, Rob and Ben asked me to accompany them for the week, I have been ecstatic. The experience has proven to be good for me, good for the band, and one hell of a vacation. As soon as I arrived at the house to leave, there was a sense of excitement. Watching (and helping) the guys load everything into the van and trailer proved to be more comedic than stressful, especially since I had to sweep a smashed tv out of the street before we could leave the driveway. Apparently, the signs in Allston to "keep Allston decent" are ignored by whiskey drinking frat boys.

From then on, riding in both vans without actual seating and proper restraints for hours on end as we trade stories, jokes and the occasional insult proved to be a positive experience.

As you have read in the previous entries, all of the shows were great and unique in their own quirky way, and I enjoyed shooting them all very much. As the photographer on the trip, I saw the light side of each of the problems and quibbles, and as an "outside" observer, I saw the humor as well. When Ben's amp would not power up at the Annex show right when they were to start, I was standing on stage behind Fusco shooting toward the crowd. All I could hear was: "Dude, my amp won't turn on", followed by Paul cursing and pacing back and forth. I never had any doubt that a replacement would be found quickly, so I gauged the light and framed up a couple of shots. When the amp was replaced, the crowd had nearly started salivating for rock and roll. With the first stick on the drums and strummed chord, there was an energy on stage and off that I had not yet felt at a Vary Lumar show. The stress from the road and the technical issue had unleashed some latent energies. With the crowded bar fully engaged, VL continued to keep up the excitement level for the full set. Cruising back on the L.I.E. after the show, it was pretty funny to me when everybody started arguing about food. So began our first excursion to a fast food joint. The road seldom leaves you more options.

The next morning, we all enjoyed diner grub at the local greasy spoon. To aid in digestion, we all had a smoke outside before taking off. We were met by five skywriting planes inkjet printing "Heineken" over and over across the horizon. I took a few shots, and in one of the images, there is a strange form toward the left of the frame in the sky. Having checked and cleaned my gear beforehand, I am beyond positive that this is not dust or shadow. The image before and after are clear of such blemishes. I do not claim to have captured anything special, but it is a curiosity to me.

We hit Mifflintown Sunday evening after searching for guitar cables and amp tubes to a wonderful dinner and an ATV cruise through the woods and fields in the dark. When you're in a strange place in the dark on the back of a four-wheeler and the driver says "lean into the turns" before gunning the engine, you can't help but to leak out a little adrenaline. We got to meet the newest feline member of the Fusco family and get scratched and bitten between hiking, shooting and riding. After some great enchiladas and several beers, we hit the sack. Memorial day is well documented in earlier entries and images.

Riding in Rosie, the "Magical White Buffalo", was a great bohemian experience, highlighted by the political debates, sliding sound gear and the smell of somebody's feet (nobody ever 'fessed up to having odor...) The old sofa cushions we brought along proved to be a great idea. We had no clue that Rosie lacked a rear bench seat. It proved to be quite comfortable to ride in this style once we figured out how to pack Rosie properly.

The hotel we stayed at was nothing out of the ordinary, but packed with gear and five guys it proved to be a little tight. Some thought it was hot, others cold, so there was an ongoing battle about the air-conditioning. Having only two beds, we had to get a cot from the front desk. Upon unfolding this ancient monstrosity, I burst into laughter. There is no way that this cot was less than 20 years old, and I can't believe that we did not raise hell about it. Once unfolded, it was the form of a pad. (Read: feminine napkin) It was pretty funny to watch Paul and the Fusco get comfortable and fall asleep in this contraption jammed in between the beds. With all the gear, food and people, there was little room to maneuver. This made having a great beer buzz going somewhat difficult and dangerous, but fun nonetheless.

Having never been to Washington D.C. myself, I crawled up in the van to peer out the windows. it really is just like any other big city, it just happens to have more memorials, monuments and fat tourists than most other places. It was fun to "herd" the band around trying to compose shots with everybody in them. It proved to be rather difficult to get everybody to listen and get some good candid shots. Most of the time, I had to settle for only having three of the four members in the shot. We did get to see some secret service guys at the Lincoln memorial escorting an elderly couple around (who where they??). I was glared at each of them in turn for putting my camera to my eye in their presence. We were also stared at by tourists, since I was obviously shooting these four guys with the monuments and not taking normal tourist pictures. I wonder if they ever figured out what was going on with us. Having been stared at long enough, giving the bird to Dick and Bush, running a red light in front of the White House, it was time to make ourselves scarce.

We hit the fast food joint Checker's on our way back, but that's all I will mention under threat of physical violence from Paul.

The rest of our time in PA is well documented, so I will adjourn to the last leg of our trip on the road from PA to Pawtucket, RI and back home again.

Saturday morning, we were planning on waking up around 8.00 am and hitting the road by 10.00 am "at the latest". Paul opens the bedroom door where Ben, Fusco and I were sleeping and tells us: "it's 10, you guys need to get out of bed." Oops. After we have breakfast and ponder Paul's not feeling well, update the web journal, get enough coffee and nicotine in our bodies and play with the kitten, it's noon, and we still have to pack the van and the trailer. We have an eight hour drive ahead of us, and we have to be at the Black Stone in Pawtucket by 8.00 pm at the latest. Shit. After everything is packed (thanks for doing some of my laundry Laff!) we finally leave the driveway at 12.40. We stop for gas, check the tires and buy some cigarettes (in boxes that say "Contents not to be sold or displayed in this carton" in huge block letters. The time is now 1.10 pm.

Ben proceeds to slam on the gas pedal and tear through PA toward Jersey. The air conditioner acts up, and has to be turned off and on repeatedly to push cool air. Drivers seem 10 times worse than normal, passing on the right and driving slow in the left, two of Ben's major pet peeves of the road. With the stress mounting, legs cramping, time fleeting and the wear and tear of the week weighing down on them, the mood in the van is one of somber anticipation. We fly through Jersey and pass North of NYC into Connecticut. We make one final pit stop for gas, (some for the car and some for us courtesy of McDonald's). Just South of Bridgeport, traffic hit a standstill. With the clock ticking, we were all getting antsy. When traffic cleared, Ben floored the Lumina (with 130,000 miles on it already) up I95 for the remainder of the trip. The Uhaul trailer clearly states on each side that it is not to go above 45mph. We were doing 85.

We finally arrived at the Black Stone at 8.15. Making the same trip in the same time in a Porche would have been difficult, I'm still convinced that Ben opened a portal in the space/time continuum to make this happen. Maybe the '89 Luminas were secretly equipped with a flux capacitor.... (our traveling sound track sadly had no Huey Lewis).

The Black Stone is a great venue. It has space that stretches way, way back, a great stage with a brick wall, an incredible beer selection (Vary Lumar should have gotten sponsorship from Red Stripe), a great staff and a friendly atmosphere. I soon found out what a clear sound system they have and how fantastic the lighting is. VL went on to play one hell of a show, regardless of the lack of sleep, stress and germs floating around. It easily was comparable to the Annex or 8x10 shows. After a 45 minute high-energy set, we all hung out with some old friends from Boston and RI, had some more Red Stripe and watched the other artists. Kris Hansen's Left Hand Band and then Spogga took the stage and played wonderful sets. The acoustic wanderings of Kris Hansen were a wonderful treat, it's rare to hear such technical perfection on a live acoustic set. The rendition of Hallelujah had all the patrons swaying and singing. Spogga (go look him up) to me was Tim Reynolds mixed with Prince and a touch of Neil Young. The repeater set up, drumbeats from the pickups, rhythm and harmony all at the same time were a sight and sound to behold. He had the crowd eating out of his hand with his offbeat humor, commanding stage presence and true-to-form musical artistry. Speaking on behalf of Vary Lumar (though not officially), I would like to thank the Black Stone for Hosting the band, as well as Kris Hansen's Left Hand Band and Spogga for playing the same night. Definitely a good show for the memory banks. (If Kris Hansen or Spogga read this [shameless self promotion]- I would love to photograph you guys!)

We finally packed everything back up in the Uhaul and DeLorean and headed North to Boston. We were excited and tired from a great week of rock and roll, the road and countryside. We had seen some old friends and made new ones as well. Although there was a small argument or two over the week, nobody claimed to have a bad time, and the band is looking forward to traveling again. Maybe we'll see them in Chicago or St. Louis next. I also have no complaints aside from the USB 1.1 port I had to use to transfer gigabytes of data with.

I hope everybody who had the opportunity to hear Vary Lumar this past week had as much fun as we enjoyed seeing you, and that you have enjoyed reading about the exploits in our tardy journal updates. I hope they invite me next time too. Travelling with a rock band on tour is an experience I will never pass up, regardless of the smells emanating from the van. I would like to thank Vary Lumar (Paul, Rob, Rob and Ben) for taking me along for the ride, and my lovely wife, Caroline for being cool with it.

Cosh

7:00am
Woke up after late night Wendy’s and four hours of sleep and we were magically transported back to 1980. Some conference was happening in Bowie (buoy) and the haircuts were just awesome(ly bad). We made our way back to PA, said our final goodbyes to Rosie and made it back to Mifflintown for another day of guns and the four-wheeler. Ben shooting a revolver with an American flag bandana on his head is a sight to see. Mamma Fusco made yet another great meal for us (pistachio encrusted salmon).

6:00pm
After our showers, naps, and political talk with the rents, we made our way to the Lion’s Den in Burhnam to help set up for the show. Nathaniel and co. did a great job getting all the elements together. Similar to those old DIY high school shows but much more professional.

9:30pm
We set up the gear and returned to Mifflintown, dropped off Laff to see an old friend, and went home for more campfire goodness with plenty of great stories from Cosh. The canopy of country stars was out in full force again and made for a very serene and inspiring atmosphere. We made our way to bed around 3 or 4 maybe, I don’t know. The concept of time has become lost on all of us this week.

Friday

9:00am
Paul, Ben, Cosh, and I got up and headed to Harrisburg for some drum shop action and boot shopping. Auntie Anne’s pretzels for breakfast is the shit. Drove into downtown to pick up Laff from his night of God knows what and headed back to Mifflintown for, guess what, more guns and four-wheeler riding. Anytime we get that thing above 25mph, Paul starts laughing like a giddy school-boy. Quite amusing.

4:30pm
Got back to the Lion’s Den for soundcheck and a quick rehearsal. The breakers went out on us mid-song, which raised some concern, but we figured the bugs would be worked out by the time we had to go on.

7:30pm
About 150-200 people show up including family, old friends, and Nathaniel’s local fanbase. The Hymns from New York were the first band to go on and they totally kicked ass. We shot the shit back stage and they were some really nice guys. We’ll definitely be playing some shows with them in the future.

10:00pm
Nathaniel and the crew go on and play an amazing show. Got to hear his new drummer and some fresh songs and both were fantastic. Seriously, if you want to hear a great singer-songwriter, look no further than Nathaniel Hoho.

11:00pm
The crowd cleared a bit after Hoho was done. The teenagers had to make curfew and the old folks had to go to bed, but the college-aged crowd and family stuck around which was still a good amount of people. It must have been the vibe of the room, but we played with boundless energy. Having the crowd rocking out and singing and clapping along helped too. It was great to show all the childhood friends what I’ve been doing with myself since moving to Boston. All in all, the night was a great success.

1:00am
After tearing down the gear and loading the trailer, we drove back to Mifflintown to discover my Mom cooking us roast beef and mashed potatoes w/ gravy. By far the best late night dinner ever. The pops busted out the Capt’n private stock and the night went from there. Hopefully, we’d have enough energy for the 8-hour drive and show the following day.
-fus