07 March 2008

EF On The Road: Week 1

Behold, the Death Truck. Canary yellow bumblebee banana monstrosity of a road train; witness the opaque shield concealing the motorway maestro lurking beneath. Shudder at its interstate omnipotence. This dude almost killed us yesterday. True story.

But, before I divulge the gory details perhaps it's best if I back up a bit. Yesterday, Matt and I hit the road for an epic adventure in search of bands, BBQ, truth, justice, and the American Way. Lofty goals indeed. And in the interests of managing expectations, we've entitled this post "Week 1" instead of "Day 1" to lessen the unspeakable burden of having to report our comings and goings every day. Like, what if nothing happens during one of these outings? Do you really want to read about that? Nah. With that disclaimer then, we'll try to bore you only with the interesting bits and bobs, and will do so at least once a week while trying to maintain our usual content (with bonus SXSW and other coverage too). If you dare, keep reading after the jump for some more pics, a bit of music, and some storytellin' too....

So back to the Death Truck. Matt and I were cruising along somewhere in Southern New Jersey, listening to one of his more inspired mix cds from the halcyon days of 2001 - our entire trip will be soundtracked by mix cds as there's no iPod compatibility in Vancina - when it came time to merge into a single lane because of construction. Coaxing the white knight along the left shoulder, I pulled safely ahead of the Death Truck and began the merge. Perhaps the Motorway Maestro construed this move as an affront to his road dominance, perhaps he was in a hurry, perhaps he was just fiddling with his CB or playing on his iPhone and not paying attention, because the next thing I saw was a hurtling bolt of bright yellow fury roar past me and inch ever closer to Vancina's frontquarters. Brakes were applied, obscenities launched, and a collision barely avoided as I piloted the van away from the Death Truck and to an almost dead stop. What a start.

Anyway, we were able to catch up and snap some pictures (see above) just in case we could somehow bring this maniacal hater of bearded dudes in vans to justice. First step: blog about it!

Right then, so other than that things have been fairly uneventful. We took in some great music last night at the Reservoir and on the way home our friend Graham played tour guide and brought us by the Duke campus, where an army of fanatical basketball fans were camping out for tickets to tomorrow night's Duke UNC game. As the picture suggests, the scene was definitely less that of esteemed university campus and more post-apocalyptic shantytown:


And this morning, we sharpened our palates and began our culinary tour of America in earnest with a breakfast stop at Bojangles. Check the hero shot Matt took of our breakfast, mmmm bacon 'n biscuits....


At the moment, we're taking shelter from torrential downpours at a coffee shop in Raleigh. And if it seems as though I'm rambling, consider the fact that most of my attention has been diverted to the very loud conversation taking place next to me, a diatribe that has just glossed over the following talking points: why Sicilians are near the bottom of the Italian social caste (explains man #1), why she didn't call back (man #2 proffers), and why an undergraduate degree in Physical Anthropology is the key to answering all of the above (man #2 again).

Tomorrow's highlights include eating a tasty BBQ lunch with the Rosebuds and later seeing Amy LaVere and Chatham County Line play at the Lincoln Theatre. Good things await....

Listen:
"I Don't Wanna Die" by the Unicorns

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

HAHAHAHAH. good god stay safe. Here's a lucky chant taught to me by the bearded road apothecaries of yore. "Fred Beans Ho Chunk..." You know the rest

Tam said...

You're going to come back to New York fat eating like that!!!

k said...

this makes me nervous. be careful boys. we would all like for you to come back to ny in one, respective, piece. safe travels...

Kevin said...

Matt, I hope you made it through this ordeal ok. I know Mike is given to bouts of road rage following the maneuvers of particularly discourteous drivers. Remember the PSA with the kid sitting scared on the stairs as he hears his father beat his mother while shouting "Pizza is not dinner!"? That's how you felt, I;m certain. My heart longs for you.

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