Saturday, May 12, 2012

Like Lions Perched on Lightning Bolts

First things first, the lovely Becky Krenz has uploaded "Keep it Rolling America", a documentary made by soon-to-be-mayor of Melbourne Peter Kass. This is a 40-minute film about Pete's ride across the United States with two friends after graduating college. It's complete with guest appearances, 2008's hit tunes, sports highlights, and cute doggies. Check it out, I've added it as a link on the right of the page!

Ok I think my last post was a bit scathing. It wasn't untrue, embellished, or exaggerated, but I'm a bit more dug in now, a bit more focused. I found a job raising money on the street for a charity. It's good, strange work, and I truly enjoy the interesting conversations I have every day. These usually range from how we're doing such a good job and people like us are so important, to there wouldn't be a problem with child malnutrition if we just lined their parents up against a wall and shot them all before they could have more kids.

Kids kids kids. Boy it's nice not to have to look for work any more. I have begun to discover Melbourne's fresh music scene. I went to two shows last weekend, and two this weekend. My roommate played in one, he's a French guy who plays French classics as well as his own songs on guitar. He played a little jazz basement while another gipsy jazz band launched their album. I had heard about places and shows like these. This was one of the huge factors of moving to Melbourne instead of following summer with all my bush bandits and going north where I would surely get shafted working more harvest type jobs. Yesterday I started by seeing a jug band, accompanied by a massive IPA, and I thought I was back in Oregon. Then I saw a Cumbia band, which apparently is Colombian dance music, and boy was it a boog woog. It was good, but it was short. And I am no longer looking for a job!

So now I'm dug in. I'm getting ready for my first cold months of May, June, July, etc. It's kind of weird, to be honest, to have these months be cold. I always have to revert to their northern hemisphere equivalents, and think, it's not May, it's November. I didn't really do this when it was hot, I guess I didn't really think about it. Melbourne will be my launchpad, the place where I slam enough bills into the bank to get the hell out of here, and continue on to Chapter III, whatever that may be. There is no urgency, and my bike still idles, unrideable with only one set of hub bearings.

I read about a woman riding from New York to Milwaukee carrying a typewriter. She stops in certain places and invites people to write whatever comes. She calls herself the "type rider". This reminded me slightly of when people would approach Jaco and ask to play the small guitar he had strapped to the back of his bike in Istanbul. They only ever strummed all the strings open, and chanted some local song. To say they were playing his guitar would be misleading. They were entertained nonetheless, and sometimes would play for a few minutes like this. Then they would usually request a local song that there was no chance either of us knew how to play, and be disappointed when we didn't know how to play it. Then Jaco would launch into an American classic, or in the later stages, "We are the Champions", of which he does a fantastic version, ask him to do it when you see him.

1 comment:

  1. type rider. dang. what did you call yourself, nate? i called myself the yellow rider, on account to my flashy style and bravery.