Road Warriors Vs. Murphy's Law - Score 2 for JAM

It was March 22. It was unusually warm, and a great day for travel.  We hit the road to play our first show at The Legendary Dobbs in Philadelphia, PA (an hour and a half later than we wanted to) in Brand New Sin's van, "The Pig", packed to the GILLS with all of our equipment, electric and acoustic.  Joe C. brought a spare tire that we had to somehow squeeze in, because there was no spare and we didn't want to risk having a blow out and no spare tire.  It was a tight squeeze, but we fit it all. Everything was going GREAT until we hit the dreaded Pocono region of PA.  The region that sucks us in and tries to stop us, time after time. 


The van started shaking.


Leila: "Uh, guys?  I think I should pull over, the shaking is getting worse."
Joey: "Just speed up!  It will get better."
Leila: "I really think we should pull over."


BAM!! 


Leila: "SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT!!"


At 70 MPH, I was sure we were about to die. I struggled to control the van and at LEAST keep it in the outside lane that we were in, without crashing into the other cars on the busy road.  It felt like it went up on two tires at one point, and I was positive we were going over.  After what felt like several minutes, but was probably more like 4.5 seconds, of swerving all over the road, I got control of the van and pulled it over into the median. 


We all piled out of the van in shock to go assess the damage.  The tread on the rear driver's side tire was gone and there was fluid gushing out of two broken and bent tubes behind the wheel well.  Lovely.  Rob looked at me, hugged me and said "Thank you so much for not letting us die!" or something to that effect.  


Our first thought was that the leaking fluid was the brake lines, but the fluid was clear so our sidekick, roadie and drum-tech, Robbie Jones, opened the hood and found the problem - there was NO radiator fluid left.  We snapped the radiator lines to the back of the van.  That meant there was no limping it to the next exit to try to get it to an auto parts store. We were about an hour from the venue and THOUGHT we were going to be on time for load in at 6pm.  So much for that idea.

The good news?  After our LAST lovely trip through the Pocono's (See this Blog Post) Joe Culotti's mother had the good sense to get him AAA Platinum for Christmas.  I made the call to the venue and JC made the call to AAA.  While we waited for the tow truck to arrive, Joey whipped out his guitar and started playing on the median, and Rob whipped out a 6 hour old subway sandwich.  Yeah, we were in the MIDDLE of the highway, not on the outer edge. It's amazing how many people (especially truckers) beep, smile and wave at you when you're stuck on the median in PA, then don't stop to see if you're ok.  A COP even passed us and just kept on going.  Shocker.  Rob and I walked up the road for what seemed like 2-3/10 of a mile to see where the blow out happened.  The swerve marks were scary. 


After awhile we got a phone call from the Towing company - he didn't have any flatbeds, so we had to call AAA back.  WOW.  When you tell an agent that you're in a loaded 15 passenger van, why would she send you to a towing company that had no flatbeds?  


While Joe C made call #2 to AAA, Joey and Rob decided to walk down to the next exit where there was an auto parts store and see if they could get the clamp that would fix the two broken radiator hoses.  Rob mentioned that he thought the sandwich might have been a bad idea, his stomach wasn't feeling so hot.  We watched them walk away and a mini van pulled over to pick them up!  Nate yelled, "Someone get that license plate number in case they get kidnapped!"  Shortly after that, the flatbed arrived.  

We got a call from Joey, and it turned out that the people that picked Joey and Rob up were on their way to a vehicle repair shop/ used car dealer to drop off the van they were driving.  It baffles me that we can be so lucky in an unlucky situation.  We had the tow truck driver take us to Capri Auto Works.  The owner said it would be about an hour, and told us about a place with AWESOME food (cheap - which translates really well for us) called Stahley's - He was right, the food was good.  Rob didn't eat - his stomach was bothering him and he couldn't handle food.

On our way back to Capri, Rob started projectile vomiting on the lawn of a church.  Leave it to the church people to have a sign on the lawn (that he was puking next to) that said "God is never too busy to hear you". Everyone within a hundred mile radius could hear Rob - he yells when he pukes.  $140 later (thanks to our major investor/ friend/ supporter - John Sheldon), with the new tire mounted and the radiator lines (actually AC and Heat lines to the back unit) fixed, we were back on the road  with NO time to spare.  I called the venue and let them know that our ETA was 20 minutes before we were slotted to hit the stage.

When we arrived at The Legendary Dobbs, Rob had to jump out of the van around the corner from the venue and vomit on the street. I told him we didn't have to play, and he refused to let puking stop him.  We hit the stage right on time with the guys from Scarlet Carson (awesome dudes, by the way) cheering Rob on while he puked into a bucket off the side of the stage and didn't miss a note.  Not. One. Note.  Rob earned MVP for this one.  

About 1/2 way through our set, someone in the back of the room started going into fits, paramedics arrived and told us we had to stop playing so they could talk to the guy and cart him out.  We thought he had a heart attack or something.  It turns out that he was the bass player from Scarlet Carson's cousin.  Nice.  We finished our set, and Rob stepped outside to continue puking in the back alley. I'm pretty sure the Scarlet Carson guys have it on film.  I'd like to see it.  HAHA! 

After that, we left, drove overnight and slept in the van in the parking lot of a FANTASTIC studio in Hopatcong, New Jersey called The Barber Shop Studios.  When we all woke up the next morning we went to grab food at a Dunkin' Donuts.  While we were there a cop came in, eyeballed us all, bought a coffee and left. He circled the parking lot a few times, went around the block and drove by again. When we left to go to a gas station to grab cigarettes for our tobacco loving crew, we got pulled over.

Cop: "Are you guys in a band?"

Nate: "Yeah."

Cop: "Are there any illegal substances in this vehicle?"

Nate: "No."

Cop: "Why are you shaking?"

Nate: "Because I'm nervous. Being pulled over makes me nervous."

Cop: "Is there a reason you should be nervous?"

Nate: "No"

Cop: "Well, I pulled you over today because your muffler is puttering"

. . . Really, guy???. . . You pulled us over because there is huge picture of a pig and Brand New Sin blazoned across the tinted back windows and you were hoping to bust us for "illegal substances". We're not stupid. 

After harassing us for about 15 minutes and telling us some bullshit story about a new computer system and Nate's name being attached to the van in some way (which was definitely a bullshit story), he finally let us go and we went to the studio. We hung out, met Scott Barber, the owner and head engineer, and met an amazing producer, Earl Cohen, who's worked with some pretty heavy hitters in the industry.  We would love to record with him at some point in the future, but right now he's out of our budget.

To sum up the rest of our trip - We played in Atlantic City two days in a row, met a band who got pulled over AND ticketed for possession, got to be tourists for the first time while we were there, Joe C got mad, punched a parking meter and may have broken his hand, met a guy named "Slim" that really liked weed, stayed in a dive motel that made Rob's girlfriend pay $125 PLUS $20 per person over 4 for a room that was worth about $30 a night, and drove home without any other problems. 

As DJ from Revel 9 so perfectly put it - "Just A Memory <definition>: The thing a van becomes after Just A Memory has a road show! - oooohhh SNAP!"

Watch our schedule - we'll see you out there!

~Leila Dean

Just A Memory

Where's Jerry? (And what's up with us?)

A few months ago, Joey and Angel were bird sitting for a family member.  Yeah, BIRD sitting.  One of the birds was a crazy eyed parakeet that did nothing but scream constantly until they threw a blanket over the cage,  and the other was a creepy, old Pink Cockatoo.  The Cockatoo would do this crazy, eerie whisper-babbling thing when anyone walked past its cage.  It sounded like something out of a modern horror flick.  Every once in awhile it would stop the whisper-babble and say, “Where’s Jerry?” over and over in the same sinister, whispery voice.  I walked past the cage one day and SWEAR it said, “Tastes like Man brains.” 

Creepy bird.

Thanks to that bird we have our new ONLINE EXCLUSIVE t-shirt.  

Check it out and get yours before they're gone!:

http://www.reverbnation.com/store/artist_853495

ONLINE EXCLUSIVE T-SHIRT!

We just wrapped up a great weekend at the MICNYS, where we made amazing contacts, gained insightful knowledge from some real heavy hitters in the Music industry, and got to spend some quality time with our good friends from Finespun.  

In the next few weeks we will be keeping ourselves busy with a show in Evan's Mills, NY with Dragnfly on Friday Nov. 18, a radio visit to 93.5FM Ithaca's long running show The Last Exit for the Lost on Saturday Nov. 19, a trip to the Pewter Mug on Nov 25th with our friends from Armed With Valor, Bruce Campbell, and Blaming Hollywood, then it's off to Le Grand Fromage in Atlantic City, NJ and Geared Up Rock Bar & Grill in Virginia Beach, VA with Born Again Rebels to share the stage with some more kick ass bands: Solo artist Chrissy Rubcich, Bog Iron Boys, and Resident Stone in AC, and Aduro in VA Beach.  

We'll see you out there!

Amityville: The Day Nate Blew a Tranny . . .

A few months ago, our friend DJ from Revel9, one of the bands we met at the Millenium Music Conference in Harrisburg PA, contacted me about a fantastic idea he had to shake up the Tri-state area music scene by getting regional bands into the area in a different way.  Most of the time in Long Island/ NYC the venues rule with iron fists and bands are forced to pay to play.  DJ wanted to get NEW music to the masses and create a win/win situation for the venue and the bands.  With help from other hard working musicians in the area and support from several sponsors including D'Addario, Gee Davey Productions, GDA Media Group, Aural Fix & The Rock Show, Radio J, 118 Miles, Shatterproof Clothing, and Playgroundz.net, he developed the NUTUYU (New To You, get it?) Music Showcase and found a home for it in Amityville, NY. We were ECSTATIC to be a part of this and jumped on board along with several bands from Long Island including Revel9, our brothers in Finespun, The Ascension, EvilEye, Dan Acosta & Axis Unknown, and New Jersey band Resident Stone, 

The flyer for the Gig

     Saturday morning everything was going according to plan.  Everyone was ready to leave on time, including notoriously late members of the band, no one forgot anything and had to go back, the van's fluid levels were checked and we were out the door.  Rob actually said "This is going way too smoothly."  I guess that's where the weird stuff began.  I'm not really sure what to call it.  Rob put it best, at the end of the day, when he said "It was like we got bent over and fucked in the ass, but then we got a reach around, over and over."

     We stopped at the local Flying J for gas and food before we headed out.  We grabbed drinks, got lunch and filled the tank.  One of our Road Dogs, Mike Sabin, grabbed a couple of burritos to warm up.  When he opened them (to his disgusted surprise) they were covered in mold.  Nasty.  That was the first screwing.  He got his money back and we hit the road, stopping at the local Taco Bell so he could get his burrito fix.  The people behind the counter forgot to make his food, so when he finally got it he also got all kinds of free stuff! That was the first reach around.

     We were on the road headed to Long Island.  About 2.5 hours down the road Nate says "Uh.  We just lost the speedomoter" so we immediately pulled off the road at an exit that was, conveniently, right there.  It was Exit 2 (Moscow) on I380 in PA just south of Scranton.  Rob had him turn off the the van then turn it back on to see if it was just a sensor or something.  When he turned it back on all we could smell was burning transmission fluid.  Not Good. We walked around to the back of the van and there was transmission fluid EVERYWHERE.  All over the back of the van, in the wheel wells, and exploded all over the ground.  We limped the Van about 1/10 of a mile up the road and pulled into a parking lot on the left at the first business we saw, which happened to be where we met the nicest people I have ever met in my entire life.  Mel and Diana - the owners of the North Pocono Bagel Shoppe and Car Wash (Go like them.  You'll see why if you keep reading).

It's like another HOME, now.

     Mel sauntered over from his shaded seat under a mesh tent attached to the side of the restaurant and asked if everything was alright.  We told him the situation and he said something along the lines of "Well I'm just a big dumb farm boy and don't know nothin' about cars, but I know some people" and started making phone calls.  "May day, May day, Joe.  We've got a Van down at the Car Wash! They think they blew their transmission"  We realized after a short period of time that this guy knew everyone there was to know in the town.  He called a mechanic over from one of the local shops (which were all closed for the day) and he checked out our van, went out to grab some more transmission fluid and, after taking a quick spin with it, told us that we were, indeed, fucked.  Diana told us to come into the shade and stay cool while we figure out what to do, and gave us all drinks on the house.  Diana and Mel spent the next few hours calling everyone they know to try to help us get to NYC or figure out how to get the Van towed back to Syracuse.  They were even willing to figure out a way to do it themselves!  Now remember:  these are total strangers.  

     Finally we decided to rent as large a vehicle as possible from the local Hertz and get as much gear in it as possible and have Joey (who was not with us at the time due to Time Warner fucking HIM and making him work on a day he asked to get off) pick up the rest of the gear on his way through.  Diana took Rob and I over to the Avis/ Hertz at the Scranton Airport, where we sort of got screwed again.  These days if you want to rent a car you have to have good credit or a major Credit Card NOT drawn on a bank.  Well.  I had neither.  Rob was able to do it, but didn't have the funds on the debit card to cover it, since they put a $200 hold on the card if you use debit.  I started the process of transferring funds from my account to his, when Diana walked in and put down her debit card to cover the rental fee and deposit.  I couldn't believe it.  Neither could the people behind the counter.  "You mean she is a total stranger to you guys?"  Faith in humanity restored to two other people involved in the weird day.  She just wanted to make sure that we were covered and we made it to our gig on time. . . 

The sexy car we got to take to the gig.

     About an hour later, gear packed to the ceiling in the trunk of the little red Nissan Rogue, Joe C tucked (folded really) behind a bass guitar next to Nate and Mike Sabin in the back seat, Rob piled eyeball high with more gear in the front seat, bagels and more refreshments from Mel and Diana, we hit the road.  The rest of the ride down, albeit uncomfortable, was relatively uneventful, and we made it to the gig with plenty of time to spare.  Joey arrived shortly behind us.

     The audience at Broadway Bar did NOT disappoint.  We were met with a warm, and appreciative, reception.  I guess people were impressed with our "show must go on" approach.  I'm so glad Amityville likes their Rock.  I'm still having a hard time getting used to not singing and can't WAIT until my vocal chords are fully healed and I can sing again, but we had a great show!  We met some really awesome people, including Molly and Brian, who were ready to bend over backwards to help us in any way they could when they heard our story.  Molly used to be a mechanic in Scranton and knows people in the area that might be able to help us with the van.  The next few days will tell what happens there.  No the Saga has not ended.  HAHA!

After the show we had a quick chat with DJ, packed most of the gear into Joey's car (who had to go home, yes: Time Warner. . . effers) and we headed to the 7Eleven to get beer for the boys.  I think we scared the owner, but not as much as their bathroom scared ME.  

Yeah.  I hovered this and STILL fear I caught something!

     I handed the key off to Mike and grabbed a sandwich.  As I was walking out I asked Mike if he returned the Key.  He said he left it in the bathroom.  Oops.  I told the little Indian man behind the counter that we locked the key in the bathroom and he said (with a very thick Indian accent), "Well, den we haf a prooblem." I stood there for a second, not quite sure how to respond to that, blinked twice, turned and left.  

     We headed over to Doug's (Finespun bassist) humble abode for sleep.  We all wanted to get into NYC and explore a little before leaving the next day.  The alarm on Rob's phone went off at 9am (way too early for most of us since we all went to sleep between 4 and 5am).  

     Doug got us directions to the Wo Hop in China Town where we all wanted to eat lunch.  We thanked him for everything, headed out to the car with all of our stuff, packed the trunk and left.  Mike Sabin as navigator and Joe C driving turned out like putting 2 kids with ADHD in charge.  We missed a turn, took a wrong turn and missed the entrance to the highway.  When we finally got turned around and on the right highway (after getting about a mile and a half from Doug's house) someone in a truck beeped at us.  Nate gave the driver one of his very Nate-like "What the fuck are you beeping at?" looks, and the guy pointed at our trunk saying, "Your trunk's open!"  SHIT!  We were fucked again.  The irony?  Only Rob's bag fell out of the trunk.  The 18 pack of Bud Light, my pillow and all of our other backpacks were still there.  What kind of luck IS this?

     Rob and Nate took off jogging (yes, Nate was Jogging) down the side of the highway to see if they could find Rob's bag.  I texted Oren (Finespun) to get a hold of Doug (no we didn't get his number because we're idiots) hoping that maybe the backpack fell out right when we took off.  It did. Another reach around.  We circled around and picked up Nate and Rob, who had made it to the entrance ramp, and went back to get the backpack from Doug.  I got his number, and we hit the road again.  As we were pulling out of the very nice Long Island neighborhood we were in Nate said "I think the running made me sick.  I'm going to throw up." We stopped at a stop sign, he opened the door and . . . that's what he gets for pounding a giant Sparks for breakfast then running a mile.  It doesn't help that he gets carsick if he has to sit in the backseat, so while driving down the road in stop and go traffic on the BQE he stuck his head out the window and hurled again.

     Parking in the NYC, as many of you well know, is a bitch and a half.  I was ready to wet myself after being in the car for so long, and had to hop out on Mott street in Chinatown to use the bathroom.  Joe got us parked, and we went to lunch at Wo Hop (the downstairs one, for those of you that know it).  The portions were huge and the food was perfectly delicious.

Wo Hop, 17 Mott St.

     Full, and ready to face the trip back to Moscow, PA, we piled in the car and headed toward the Holland Tunnel.  Traffic was slow, as it usually is.  I kept glancing over at the street vendors, and found a really interesting one.  "Look!  Bongs!" I pointed to a vendor coming up on our right.  Mike Sabin yelled out the window, "How much for the black Hookah?"  The bored looking middle eastern man behind the table yelled back, "Thirty" Mike Sabin yelled back, "Twenty" and the man grabbed the hookah off of the table and ran up the street to us with it and the Drive-by Hookah Purchase was complete.  Yes.  It happened THAT fast.

Drive-by Hookah

     Our trip back to the Bagel Shoppe was relatively smooth.  We hit a HUGE downpour about 1/2 way back that had several cars pulled off the road because it was so bad people couldn't see 5 feet in front of their car, but we kept going.  When we got there Bob and Cyn Hopper arrived to rescue their son (Nate), who had called them from the road.  Joe C was on call that night and had to get back, and there was no reason for Mike Sabin to stay, so they hitched a ride with the Hoppers as well.  Rob and I stayed with the broken Van and started the process of figuring out what to do.  There were no great solutions, so the Van remains at the North Pocono Bagel Shoppe in Moscow, PA.  Diana helped me return the rental, and fed us a huge, family-like spaghetti dinner complete with home-made meatballs while we waited for Kevin Dean to come get us.

     We never did get around to passing that infamously cursed house in Amityville, but I'm proud of my band.  We all remained extremely calm through this entire strange adventure.  We laughed a lot and took things in stride.  There wasn't a bad mood in the bunch all weekend.  I have no doubt that we could survive ANYTHING on the road.  Look out world:  Here comes Just A Memory.

We'll see you out there.

~Leila Dean

Welcome to Philadelphia

Recently, we played a string of shows with our friends Autumn Fire and Shattered Envy.  The first show was in Syracuse and the second in Virginia Beach.  It was quite a lengthy drive between the two, so we recruited our buddy Ed Roy to drive while we slept after the show.  Most of us woke up around 8:30 in the morning after the Syracuse show and I asked Ed where we were.  He responded, "Philadelphia."  It seemed like a logical place to stop for a bathroom and food break.  Now if you're looking for food in Philly, you know there is one obvious choice: Philly Cheese-steaks!  Conveniently, there was a sandwich place open right next to where we stopped.  Joey and I began walking across the parking lot and had an interesting conversation.  He claimed I should not ask for a "Philly Cheese-steak" but just a "Cheese-steak."  He said it would be weird to call it a Philly Cheese-steak since we were already in Philly.  It made sense but I still felt a little bothered by not including the word Philly next to Cheese-steak.  When I got up to the counter I asked, "Can I get a Cheese-steak?"  They said yes and began making the Cheese-steak.  I was still wondering if it would've been weird to include the word Philly so I had to inquire.  I asked the cashier, "Is it weird if I ask for a Philly Cheese-steak since I'm already in Philly?"  Puzzled, she looked at me and replied, "You're in Delaware."

-Rob-

The last week . . .

Our schedule last week was as it should be.

On Saturday, June 16th we headed to J.A. Castle Recording Studio and tracked for our EP for 10 hours.  Most of the time that we were there Joey was on call at his day job.  He was NOT happy that he couldn't be there, but it all worked out just fine.

On Monday we tracked 5 hours from 7pm to Midnight.  That night, at around 10:30pm, Dixon texted to find out if we were available to open the Emphatic and Crossfade show along with The Black Lockets on Tuesday at The Lost Horizon. Are you kidding?  Of course we were!  The show totally kicked ass and the guys from Emphatic and Crossfade were a fantastic group of people.  We'd like to thank 95X, as well, for all of their support.

Wednesday we went back to Castle for another 5 hours to wrap up the 4 songs we're putting on the EP.

Thursday we had the privilege and honor of opening the show for Skippyfest, our friend Dave McCormick's private 50th birthday bash at Fusion.  We always love sharing the stage with Professional Victims and Brand New Sin.  The show came complete with the hysterical Roasting of Dave throughout the night between sets done by several of his favorite co-workers.  Here's a shot of Dave with Joey and Nate.

On Saturday we played a private Graduation Party for Ryan Lonkey, who's parents have been HUGE supporters of the band since long before we were Just A Memory.  Congratulations, Ryan!  On to bigger and better things for you.

Sunday we hit SubCat Music Studios in the Red House Arts Center complex in Downtown Syracuse to start mixing the EP.  4 hours there gave us a rough mix of Battlefield.  We have some tweaking to do then we'll move on to the other songs.  We should have them completely mixed by Friday of this week.

Make sure you catch us in Watertown at Fatboys on Saturday July 2 with Professional Victims and on Friday July 8th at Station 58 in Syracuse for our East Coast Havoc tour Kick-off party.