On our way out of Portland, we stop by the famous Head Light lighthouse to take pictures and shoot some more footage for Kickstarter. The weather is strange. The clouds have parted to the sun which now lights the downtown area, but the coast of the Atlantic Ocean is extremely foggy. It is also almost 20 degrees colder and as a result, my camera lens keeps fogging up. Thankfully the clouds roll away enough to offer us a view of the rocky coast where ships have wrecked and where waves still lap against ancient rocks.
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| Coast of Maine...or backdrop for Wuthering Heights |
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| In front of the Head Light Lighthouse |
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| Sign for a shipwreck from the 1800's |
Our commute to Vermont through New Hampshire includes driving past natural springs running through untampered forests over sheer cliff rocks, low hanging clouds touching mountain peaks, and lush greenery blanketing rolling hills stuccoed with pines and beech and elm trees. Mountain resorts, hotels and bed and breakfasts nestled within nature feels more European than American.
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| Me and New Hampshire's natural wonders |
Our drive into Montpelier, the capitol of Vermont is peculiar. Capitol cities in the mid-west are heralded with sprawling suburbs pointing toward a dense city and a prominent capitol building. In Vermont, at least from the direction we were heading in, the city center is hidden by rolling hills and tall trees. We drive past a few buildings that in Michigan would indicate the outskirts of a town with one stoplight. The reality is not far from our assumption.
One of the primary differences again between Montpelier and similar sized towns in Michigan is the people. This is a town of young people or so it seems, embracing the hippie lifestyle or any other lifestyle for that matter of their choosing. Crazy hair, tattoos, piercings, and customized facial hair are all part of the Montpelier culture. Many of the restaurants openly advertise their organic food offerings, eager to show their home grown, natural business practices. Again, businesses like these are hard to find in Michigan unless you are way up north or are in select pockets of liberal bastions like Ann Arbor and Grand Rapids. It's culturally shocking to say the least.
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| A really bad, unrepresentative picture of downtown Montpelier |
We arrive in Montpelier right at 6pm, the supposed time of the end of the world. According to Harold Camping, a fundamentalist Christian on the radio, May 21st, 2011 at 6pm was when Jesus Christ would return, 'rapuring' the saved and condemning the rest to damnation. Sadly we were not able to find Camping's Family Life Radio station where we are to tune in as the clock struck 6pm...and continued ticking. But street signs outside some of the bars and businesses indicated that they too were tuned into the possibility of earth's untimely destruction however mockingly. The end of the world did not come, and yet somehow I kind of wanted to believe that they had actually figured it out. What if May 21st really was exactly 7,000 years since the great flood where Noah saved all the animals?
Our show was at a local bar/music venue called Charlie O's (not related to Jackie O's in Athens, Ohio) and while we were expecting a half-way decent turnout for a Saturday night, we did not expect it to get crazy. But it got crazy. One can always anticipate an interesting night when the first two guys who come up to talk to the band setting up are already drunk. To make matters worse, one guy had actually spent time in the Detroit area and was adamant that we would know the name of this guy who sold used cars there over a decade ago...if he could just remember his name. 'Kelly...it's Kelly something...Kelly...I'll think of it. I think it's like Kelly something,' for the entire 45 minutes we put our instruments together. The other guy just wanted to play a song with the band, a favor that Eric later let him indulge in even though he would not take the cue to end.
As for our set, we played increasingly better as the night wore on. There happened to be another band of the same music genre called 'The Devil Makes Three' playing the same night just up the street. Though we had never heard of them, they apparently have a following in the area, one that was ready to follow them out of our bar for the rest of the night. But fortune was on our side as the venue over sold tickets past capacity like a jumbo jet prompting them to turn many people away at the door. Instead of walking home, most of those turned away returned to our show and kept the room packed for the rest of the night. A good night for me means that I am drenched in sweat from playing so hard and I can safely say that both Eric and I needed new shirts by the end of the night.
The show got a little out of hand toward the end when the dance floor started turning into a mosh pit and dancers dancing a little too spiritedly on too many spirits started falling into our space and at one point, knocking Eric's microphone stand into Eric's mouth. Eric was ok and the guy later apologized, but the sudden rowdiness and lack of supervision from the bar definitely took us by surprise.
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| Charlie O's and Samosa Sam (where I ate dinner) |
At the end of the night, we were still prepared to camp as we did not know where we were staying. But to our good fortune, Maggie, one of the bartenders lives in a house with some of the other bartenders and they graciously let us crash on their floor. Thank you Maggie and friends.
