imwithjonas's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I <3 Jam I <3 JamHa, get it. It's a heart. Like, I heart Jam. But I don't mean real jam. I mean fake musical jam. I spent the past weekend in the fantastical city of Huntsville. The Big Spring Jam was afoot, and I was there for every worthwhile moment. Jamlog 9.24.04 - Friday That night, my friend Babs and I had to find a hotel. We decided to go with something cheap. We checked into the Sleaze Bag. Said sleaze bag boasted single rooms at $25 a night. Impressive, eh? Yeah. So we go up to our room. To get the full effect, you have to read the entire next paragraph aloud without pausing for breath. There was no bathroom light. The coat rack dangled precariously from the wall. The phone had been ripped from the wall and was missing. There was a roughly axe-shaped hole in the bathroom door. There were blood stains on my bed and various other stains on Babs' bed, and there were cockroaches. You can breath now, and also stop reading aloud. If you're in a public place, you're probably really creeping people out. Anyway, we had half decided to stick it out, cause it was hella cheap afterall. So we walked out to get some ice. A random black guy standing by our room is talking to another black guy down in the parking lot. Parking lot guy says "Hey, whatchoo got?" Rail guy says "I don't smoke no cigarettes, I got whatchoo need." He then turns to Babs and me and says, "Y'all smoke weed?" We say no, and run down the stairs. We get our ice, return to our room, and begin frantically calling people. The consensus of the two people we can reach is that we should leave, for our own safety. So we grab our stuff and run for our cars. We take a different route this time. Now, we pass a hispanic man who stares at us lasciviously and a room with wide open curtains in which a much older man is bodily pinning a much younger girl on a bed. We walk quickly, and cast nervous glances over our shoulders. We make it to the cars, and I run in and demand our money back. I simply tell the manager that our room was a shithole and a man tried to sell us drugs just outside our door. He gives the money back in such a nonchalant manner that I'm sure he's had to do so on numerous ocassions. Ah. We try to find another cheap hotel. We have a similar experience, only this time in a parking lot. Two black men run towards our car as soon as we pull in. We try to pull out, quickly, but pull into a deadend part of the parking lot. We have to turn around, and must therefore speak to the men or run them over. I hesitently crack my window and an older man tells us that they've run out of gas. He asks for a couple of dollars. Whatev. Then the other guy is all, "No, we're tired of walking, give us a ride to the gas station." So I hurriedly shove two dollars out the window before the other guy tries to get in the car. The first man says thanks for the money and asks if we've got another dollar or two. I say no. The other guy tries to shove his arm in the window so we can't pull away. The first man asks if we smoke weed. We exit the parking lot rapidly. And land gratefully in the welcoming arms of the Holiday Inn. It's much more expensive, but much less perilous to my health. Jamlog 9.25.04 - Saturday Babs and I roll out of bed at 9 a.m. for the complimentary breakfast. It's quite wonderful. We see a group of attractive men. One attractive man has gotten his waffles lodged in the toaster. Babs kindly assists him in dislodging the waffles. That matters later in the story. She and I then eat an entire table's worth of food. We then load up a tray with everything we can grab and go back to our room. We sleep until about 2 p.m. It was lovely. Then we eat some more, fetch my sister, visit an adult novelty shop, and return to the jam. We couldn't see Switchfoot because that entire end of the park was closed off due to the mass of people. We caught one song from a great distance. We then saw Jewel. She's a narcissistic bitch. She whined and talked and yodeled. When she actually played some damn music, it was quite good. She played the old, good stuff. But she didn't get around to that part of the "concert" much. I hated it. Flea stayed with us at the hotel that night. We slept soundly, without being accosted by drug dealers. Jamlog 9.26.04 - Sunday On the other hand, I have no actual proof that this happened. We didn't have a camera handy, since we didn't think we were eating with rock stars. We also decided it was a bit rude to ask them for autographs while they were eating. Sigh. So, we didn't get any kind of proof, but we were good people for it. Anyway, that day was saw the ABSOLUTELY AMAZING Where's Gary. That's Xavier's band, in case you don't pay attention. They were great. Babs was even impressed. They played a hella long set. We then had lunch with my father. It was delicious. I miss my daddy. I never get to spend much time with him. Sigh, again. We returned to see... That's right. Jay and Silent Bob would be proud. They're also idiots. It sucked. We had to wait all through the crappy and highly demeaning (from a woman's point of view) concert for them to finally play Jungle Love. It was good, at least. Then, we went to Collective Soul. Oh Sweet Lord (and I rarely capitalize that), they were heavenly. That is the most overall attractive band on the face of the planet. The lead guitar player is absolute bliss. Sex on a stick, as Babs so aptly put it. They played for two entire hours. I was shocked, amazed, overjoyed, and utterly in awe. Live had a certain sex appeal, but overall, that show was rather paled by Collective. I mean, wow. They were really tremendous. Really. The only comparable show I've ever seen was Better Than Ezra. I'd say the two are on par. Both were better than I could ever have possibly imagined. Wow. So that about wrapped up my weekend. Babs has generously offered to split an apartment with me. Woo! So we're looking for a nice, cheap, two bedroom shanty somewhere in this lovely little town of NoWhere. Wish us luck, and envy my magnificent BSJ stories. 9:17 p.m. - September 28, 2004 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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