Coal Creek Coffee Company - Laramie, WY

We left Denver with tears in our eyes, and enough food in our laps to feed us for the rest of the week, thanks to Mama Caroline. Carl’s tears were most likely from his allergies, but mine were genuine. Luckily, the road to Laramie was distracting enough to take our minds off of what we left back in Colorado.

There are 2 main routes from Denver to Laramie (we were told), and our GPS directed us on the most scenic of the two (thank you, Garmin!). For most of the drive, we crept up and down hilly terrain with the Rockies in full view. For us Midwestern kids, gaping at the mountain range was as enthralling as finding a zipper is to an Amish kid. We just couldn’t stop looking.

We pulled into Laramie in the mid-afternoon, and headed directly to Coal Creek Coffee Co., the venue of the evening, to take a peek at how the room was set up. We were greeted by an enthusiastic barista pulling shots from an espresso machine that looked older than the industrial revolution.

We indulged in some non-caffeinated tea (since we knew we’d have an early start the next morning, and wanted to get a good night’s rest) while longingly gazing at that espresso machine, and we spread ourselves out at a window-side table.

My eyes may have wandered onto a street sign propped right outside of the window, and this is what I spotted:

Quality spelling for a quality musician. The funniest thing about this sign is that on the other side, my name was spelled right. Maybe they were just trying to cover all of their bases, like those who pronounce Missouri as "Mizz-er-uh" in one sentence, then "Mizz-or-ee" in the next... I don't know.

After a few hours of solid work and reading, we ventured over to our hosts' home for the evening, Renee and Matt. Matt was watering the lawn while his son Emmitt ran the length of the yard a few times as we walked up to say hello. We were welcomed into their lovely two-story home and promptly greeted by a friendly dog (they were just babysitting the nice pup for the week), along with Matt’s wife Renee. Renee introduced us to their adorable daughter Julep, but Julep wasn’t in the mood for socializing, so the two of them scooted off to a quiet room for a while. We sat on a comfy vintage couch in their living room, and engaged in delightful conversation with them, learning a little bit more about Laramie and the eclectic crowd that has migrated to the University town. We couldn’t chat for too long however, because Jubilee Days (the biggest and best festival to happen in Laramie during the summer) and our café show awaited.

The show that evening went well. It started raining right as I strummed my first chord, so the rain pushed a fair amount of people into the little café. From that point on, the crowd size stayed consistently large as people trickled in and out over the course of the evening.

Coal Creek Coffee Company supplied a photographer for the event, who ended up taking some fantastic photos. As a fellow red-head, I had an instant affection for her. It’s just something that happens with us red-heads. I like to call it "the red-head connection." It’s a deep understanding of another person’s childhood without even knowing them; it’s an ability to look at someone, and know right away that they’ve been the brunt of many-a middle-school joke, countless-a high-school prank, and even through adult life, the continuous subject of distasteful stereotypical comments. OK, so maybe I’m blowing that entirely out of proportion, but I can honestly say that fellow-ginger Faith took some stellar pictures. She currently runs a photography company called Honey Bee Photography (check it out here), and as a small business loan officer, it was wonderful to listen to her story of how she fell into the field, how she decided to register her business, and has near-future plans of hiring staff. She’s energetic, passionate about her work, and delivers a fantastic product quicker than the average event photographer. Carl and I were shown the pictures that were taken that very evening as they were being published on her Facebook page, only moments after the show was finished. If you’re in the Laramie, WY area and you’re in the market for a high-quality photographer with Midwestern charm you can’t deny, look no further than Honey Bee Photography.

Here are a few shots from that evening:

We packed up and called it a night after attempting to give captions to Faith's photographs, something which she insisted upon. We headed back to Matt's and Renee’s, tip-toed straight to our pillows, and instantly lost consciousness. We were only able to keep the dreadful thoughts of our 5:30 AM start-time the next morning at bay for an hour or two, before the nightmares of sleep-deprived drivers embarking on an 11 hour drive arose, accompanied by the sound of our alarm clocks.

Driving Music:
Bon Iver - Bon Iver, Bon Iver
Bowerbirds - Upper Air
Blind Pilot - Daytrotter Session

The Walnut Room - Denver, CO - (Day 3)

Our first meal on day 3 in Denver was phenomenal. (If you can't tell by now, we're big fans of food.) It was at Snooze, a brunch eatery that conjures up some truly magical breakfast ideas and executes them to perfection. My French toast sticks, for example, were not your ordinary French toast sticks with maple syrup; they were stuffed with bacon, Nutella, and peanut butter cream cheese. I also devoured a half order of bacon-jalapeno spoon bread topped with honey smoked salmon, poached eggs, cream cheese hollandaise, and chives. And while Tricia was closing her eyes and rubbing her tummy in pure culinary reverie, I managed to steal a couple bites of her over-sized blueberry lemon bar pancake.

Unfortunately, we don't have any photos to document the deliciousness, but if you don't trust our judgment, I hope you can trust Keegan Gerhard's. We spotted the award-winning pastry chef and Food Network host/judge leaving the restaurant just as we were sitting down. No joke.

That afternoon, Caroline took us to Boulder, which was a strange blend of hippie and commerce; it was alright, but I preferred Denver... After walking through a market there and dodging some heavy rain, we ate at a restaurant called Foolish Craig's in honor of my brother.






We returned to Denver in the early evening to participate in a much-anticipated kickball game. (Caroline is in a weekly summer league, and it's kind of intense.) I was fairly confident going into the game, but our team ended up getting pummeled by some huge bros who seemed to be aware of way too many technicalities in the kickball handbook.

The good (and funny) news is that Tricia's name will be appearing in the next edition of the league's e-mail newsletter, even though she's not on the team. She did make a couple of stellar plays.




After the game, we headed to an establishment called Three Dogs and gave the bros a run for their money in a series of other games.

We left Denver the next morning, and Tricia and I stopped briefly at the New Belgium brewery during our drive through Fort Collins. Their brewery tours are already booked through the rest of the summer, so we didn't get to go on one, but it was still neat to stop by and see the massive influx of bikers pulling in to the lot.




Next stop: Laramie, WY!

Driving Music:
Dawes - Nothing is Wrong
Benjamin Riley - I Can See Glory
Andrew Bird - Andrew Bird & the Mysterious Production of Eggs
Bjork - Medulla
Buena Vista Social Club - Live at Carnegie Hall - Discs 1 & 2
The Daredevil Christopher Wright - In Deference to a Broken Back
Dosh - Tommy
Nathaniel Ratelifff & the Wheel - Desire and Dissolving Men

The Walnut Room - Denver, CO - (Days 1 & 2)

Driving through the eastern half of Colorado is pretty boring; the only scenery is dust, dirt, and fake teepees until you get about an hour east of Denver, where the Rockies start to "peak" out over the horizon and trees begin popping up again. (Tricia doesn't appreciate my cheesy puns.)

We pulled into Denver on a steaming Colorado afternoon (the car said it was 103 degrees outside), and met my good friend Caroline and a few of her amigos in Washington Park for a tasty picnic meal of black bean burgers, chunky corn salsa, fresh fruit, and pasta salad. The park was bustling with volleyball players, frisbee tossers, and Joaquin Phoenix lookalikes, and it was easy to see why it was so packed (HINT: parks in Illinois do not have a sprawling mountain range in the distance).

Later that night, Caroline took us to see some 4th of July fireworks. We researched some of the different locations around the city, and we ruled out a number of them quickly. For example, one ad claimed that a certain town had "the best and safest fireworks display in Denver." We could embrace the former attribute, but certainly not the latter. After much deliberation, we ended up heading to Tricia's birthplace, Englewood, and we knew immediately that it was the right place. After some walking around, we spotted the fireworks trailer on a baseball field a mere 50 yards away, and scooted right up to an orange fence adjacent to the entry road where fire trucks were filing in. A wide-eyed boy scout with a fluorescent vest was supposed to be keeping the general public from crossing the boundary, but he allowed several people by with only a mumbled protest a la Milton from Office Space.

After they cut the park lights, the audience cheered, and what followed was one of the best fireworks displays I've seen since local park districts started cutting their budgets for holiday explosives. The grand finale was a bombastic series of red, white, and blue blasts followed by what can only be described as over-stimulation. As the crowd convulsed collectively, I thought I witnessed a giant screaming eagle soaring through the sky unscathed. And then there was black, accompanied by the hum of several strangers becoming accustomed to tinnitus.

The next morning, we visited Red Rocks. (Unfortunately, it wasn't to play live for thousands of people). It was cool to see an amphitheater built so seamlessly into such a gorgeous natural landscape, but it was tarnished a bit by muscular men and women performing excessive feats of strength and endurance.




After Red Rocks, Caroline showed us around Denver's lower downtown area, where we ate some absolutely delicious Ameri-Mexican food at Illegal Pete's, browsed around Tattered Cover (Denver's oldest bookstore), and went on a brewery tour at Great Divide. Unfortunately, the tour didn't include free samples.









Later that evening, Tricia and I loaded into the Walnut Room and met the other musicians. We kicked off the evening and were fortunate enough to have a great turnout and a very attentive audience. It was a real treat to have friends and family in the audience so far away from home.

Kate Moreland, accompanied by a jazzy guitarist named Kevin (who happened to book talent at a local jazz club), played third. She was an energetic performer with a penchant for playful songwriting -- needless to say, her set was a lot of fun to watch.



Caleb Slade was next. We'd heard through the grapevine that his brother is Isaac Slade, the front man of The Fray (known for the hospital TV show staple "How to Save a Life"), and it just so happens that he used to be a member of the band before they hit big. (If you want to read an article on that whole story, here it is: http://www.westword.com/2011-01-27/music/caleb-slade-isaac-slade-the-fray/2/.) Anyway, Caleb played a variety of piano ballads and was joined by a particularly good drummer named Tim Husmann. It was supposedly their first time performing together in public, which is amazing, given how they sounded.



Sarah Slaton ended the evening with a solo acoustic set sandwiched between two strings of collaborations with friends. She was releasing an EP, so it was her night; even though the crowd had dwindled a bit, a good-sized group of her friends/fans pushed up toward the stage, and she interacted with them a great deal throughout her set. The night culminated with a "supergroup" rendition of "Hey Jude," featuring all the musicians who had performed and then some, along with Tricia on the tambourine and me on the shaker. (Before you laugh, auxiliary percussion is an important role.) You can probably find the video somewhere on YouTube.



To close out the post, I should also mention two other things:

• The sound man, Will, was excellent. We talked with him for quite a while after the show and exchanged some music recommendations. He told us we should definitely come back, which is always nice to hear.
• Anson Krekeler, a musician we met at one of Tricia's shows in Chicago a couple months ago, came to the show, which was a neat surprise. He blogged some very kind things about us and the other performers here: http://orangecoastline.wordpress.com/2011/07/08/tuesday-night-at-the-walnut-room/

A quick post about day 3 in Denver is coming soon, followed by posts about Laramie and Boise. Seattle show tonight!

Duffy's Tavern - Lincoln, NE

Upon arriving in Lincoln, we headed to a small vegetarian/vegan food joint called Grateful Bread. Tricia had heard about their legendary macaroni and cheese and was eagerly awaiting the opportunity to compare it that of Schubas in Chicago (the best that both of us have ever had by far), but alas, they were "sold out." We settled for some black bean soup and a dish called the Creole Hoppin' John instead. Both were fairly tasty, but I couldn't help but wonder why the employee couldn't just make some more mac 'n cheese with all of his spare time. (In the 30 minutes we were there, he had a few more customers come in and and ask about the sold-out mac 'n cheese, and the only thing he did behind the counter was change the vinyl playing over the store's speakers.)

After polishing our bowls, we checked out the capitol building just down the street. Before seeing this statue, I should've figured that Lincoln was the Nebraskan people's attempt to claim old Abe for themselves. This seems to be a widespread phenomenon across many states, but we all know that Illinois is the place where Abe sprang from the womb (hence the name of our capitol, Springfield).

I suspect that the final line of this poem, inscribed tastefully on the hide of the stone bison below, is the earliest known incarnation of today's popular insult.

"Born of the Earth
And touched by the deep blue sky
Out of the distant past I came into you
Your mother corn"

Here's a sculpture we spotted across the street from the capital. I have two thoughts: 1) Why is the little boy so ripped?, and 2) We can see where these people's pants end, but where do their pants start?

Plagued by these questions (which rank among life's greatest) we drove to Duffy's Tavern, our venue for the night. We had performed at Duffy's last summer and had a great time. The atmosphere was somewhat rowdy, but people seemed to really care about the music. Not to mention that the talent buyer, Dub, genuinely wanted to make sure we were taken care of. It was no different this time around.

The Betties opened the show. Their sound check alone sounded like it could've been the soundtrack to a Ken Burns Civil War documentary, and I mean that in a good way. It's also worth mentioning that they crocheted their own koozies and put out tortilla chips and homemade salsa on their merch table. The latter was a delicious accompaniment to their set, a string of rootsy folk/country songs anchored down by Heather Berney's twangy vocals and Jordan Ellis' viola playing. In the video below, Manny Coon (whom we played with and stayed with last summer) joined them for some drunken washboard percussion.



Tricia played next. Each one of her songs was punctuated with a loud cry ("YEEESSS!") from the back of the bar, which I interpreted as a good sign.

I followed, setting the stage for the final act of the night, a pop-rock quartet called The Sleepover. They had recently been featured in an Al Jazeera news video about the Lincoln music scene. Apparently, when their lead singer Cory was told about the possibility of being interviewed for the piece, he wondered who this "Mr. Jazeera" was. An honest mistake, but a hilarious one nonetheless. Speaking of hilarity, Cory was quite the comedian in between songs. It was a nice way to end the night.





We're in Laramie, WY right now, which means we're behind with our blog -- we have not one, but three fabulous days in Denver to write about, so check back soon!

Latitude 44 - Sioux Falls, SD

Ahhh, South Dakota... A sprawling land populated by family restaurants, casinos, and billboards advertising family restaurants and casinos.


We arrived in Sioux Falls around early evening and loaded into Latitude 44, a cool little bar on the corner of a very narrow flatiron building. After meeting its wonderful owner Cyndey, we bought sandwiches from a pair of disgruntled Subway employees and dined on a rock overlooking the city's esteemed falls.


Aside from the reservoir of plastic pictured above, Falls Park is a beautifully-kept area, complete with a surplus of merry families that may or may not be employed by the state to meander joyously along the walkways with their dogs/toddlers on leashes. The weather simply could not have been more perfect after the tempestuous mixture of heat and storm we'd experienced over the course of the previous two days.


We returned to Latitude 44 around 8:30 and met the bar dog and a surgical tech who immediately declared that I looked like "that one guy in the TV show with the boat... Man, what is that show called?" I feigned ignorance, knowing full well that she was referring to Dawson's Creek, a show which I've avoided since its peak in the 90s precisely because of the people who've told me I look like its star, James Van Der Beek. (I prefer to think that I look like Haley Joel Osment circa The Sixth Sense.) Anyway, the surgical tech proceeded to tell us that the worst part of her job was dealing with a certain anatomical part of aging women. For some reason, Tricia remained uncharmed by this topic of discussion, and we headed over to the stage to set up.

The audience was probably our smallest yet, but it was at least relatively attentive. Cyndey informed us that much of her usual concert-attending crowd was probably at a music festival down in Sioux City, after which she remarked with a disgusted face, "I don't know why the hell anyone would ever want to go to Sioux City." (While driving through it the next morning, Tricia and I turned toward each other and shrugged, each of us quietly wondering how it was any different from the rest of South Dakota.)

I played first, and finally felt comfortable with my songs after having "practiced" the previous two nights. I watched Tricia perform (marvelously) during the first half of her set, and then headed to the back of the bar, where I met Nathan and Jared (who helped me remember his name by discussing the Galleria of Jewelry and the once-overweight Subway guy). They introduced me to Latitude 44's brown bag beer deal, where they sell you a random bottle of beer inside a brown bag for $2, and you have to guess what beer it is before peeking at the label. Since Nathan's was a Howling Wolf beer, and Jared's was a Red Seal, I thought it'd be safe to guess that my beer was the name of an animal with a descriptor preceding it. After a few sips, I confidently declared that mine was a "Stumbling Mastodon IPA," so I was quite disappointed upon removing the bag to find out that my beer was none other than the dully titled "Maibock."

After the show, Cyndey told us that we'd be able to get a discount at a nearby hotel if we told them we had played at Latitude 44. We headed over to the hotel, and alas, there were no vacancies, probably because there was some kind of late-night bags convention for middle-aged men and women just outside of the hotel. We settled for a highway rest stop instead, and we both got a surprisingly rejuvenating night's sleep.

On our way to Lincoln earlier today, we faced some route complications due to some major flooding in southeastern South Dakota and western Iowa.


Oddly enough, there was no detour announced once we hit a roadblock on the main highway, so we navigated a number of gravel backroads and took in some gorgeous pastoral scenery before finding our way across the state border and into Omaha.

In between Omaha and Lincoln, we made a short stop, which we've lovingly chronicled with the photos below.

This is a day early, so I hope you don't mind: Happy 4th of July, everyone. And if you're reading this, happy birthday, Grandma!

The Red Stag Supper Club - Minneapolis, MN

We left Wisconsin on the first day that collective bargaining rights were officially taken away, and we entered Minnesota on the first day of the state government shutdown. We have no intention of making this blog a politically tainted one, but it was hard to ignore the general mood in Wisconsin with countless signs disgracing Governor Walker sticking from carefully groomed lawns and dusted windows panes. Even the cats lounging in the windows looked defeated.

Upon entering Minnesota, we noticed bright orange "closed" signs blocking every entrance to rest areas and State parks. 23,000 state workers now have forced furlough days -- ones they most likely won't receive back-pay for -- and state camp grounds in the "Land of 10,000 Lakes" kicked people out on Thursday evening in preparation for the shut-down. This drastically decreased projected revenues over the holiday weekend from camping fees, etc... With a potential national shut-down looming overhead come August 2nd, Minnesota's current fiscal issue merits recognition and reflection.

On to the main point: the weather (and some music, I guess). We descended upon Minneapolis in a furious storm - one of the most intimidating storms we've witnessed since the one we drove through last year in Southern Illinois (which had funnel clouds in the near distance). Minneapolis had a prominent ring of dark grey/green clouds hovering above it, which looked eerily similar to the alien space craft in the 1996 film Independence Day. We turned on a talk radio station to make sure we wouldn't be sucked into the sky by a tornado (or an alien spaceship) before making it to the venue.

The radio show we ended up listening to was almost more entertaining than the giant drops of rain battering the windshield and the ferocious clouds overhead. They were taking calls from people around the city and surrounding suburbs, who were i-witnesses to the developing storm system. Most people would call in and say things like, "Hi, this is Mike here, I'm in the North Eastern part of the city. It's gettin' really windy here, and very dark" or "Yah, it's raining here" then the radio hosts would say something like, "Thanks, Mike, for your insightful report. Now onto the next caller. We've got Bev here on the line who said she just saw some hail." Then Bev would come on the radio and say something like, "Yah, Bob, I've seen a little bit of some hail up here, yah. It's pea sized." It was radio at its most gripping.

We made it to the venue as the storm subsided. The Red Stag Supper Club turned out to be a corner bar in a quiet part of town. Everything was red, too. They had dark red carpet, red walls, red-shirted waitstaff, a giant red stag statue on the front awning... They served fantastic fried cheese curds along with other fancier delicacies, and as an identifiable hipster hang-out, they offered a better-than-average selection of regional and imported beers on draft. They didn't have a stage, but they pulled a black curtain over the kitchen area and set up a P.A. system right in front of it. A few friends in the area showed up (as well as a fan of Carl's - a real fan!), and we had an enjoyable evening.

The next morning, our more-than-accommodating host Ben made us a breakfast feast good enough for a pack of stags. He busted out some Texas Toast and panned us up a few restaurant-style french toast platters, paired nicely with crispy bacon and fresh cut fruit. We ate to the brink of nausea, then packed our car and headed southwest to Sioux Falls, SD.

Driving Music:
David Sedaris - Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim - Disc 1
Cedarwell - A Stone, A Leaf, A Door
David Sedaris - Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim - Disc 2
Elbow - The Seldom Seen Kid
Pink Floyd - Dark Side of the Moon
Mem Shannon - Memphis in the Morning
Kings of Leon - Only by the Night
Jose Gonzalez - In Our Nature
Iron and Wine - Kiss Each Other Clean
Amy Winehouse - Back to Black

Sheboygan, WI - Paradigm Coffee & Music

Our fair neighbor-state to the North welcomed us with open arms and over-sized, cheese-filled sandwiches for our first evening of our summer 2k11 tour. It was a familiar scene – one we enjoy revisiting often - so we were pleased that Paradigm Coffee & Music was able to host us for our first show.

Paradigm Coffee & Music is an adorable café near downtown Sheboygan. As a community oriented small business, the café displays artwork supplied by local photographers and artists, local-ish coffee (Alterra), tasty locally grown food, and has an overwhelming welcoming feel. Everyone is friendly, well behaved, has a book in hand, and is eager to listen to any live music that happens to find it’s way onto Paradigm’s well-lit stage. There’s a co-op grocery store in the back, and their loose-leaf tea selection blows other cafes out of the water (other than the Bourgeois Pig Café in Chicago, and maybe Infinitea in Eau Claire). Kate, the owner, deserves a giant pat on the back from anyone that goes in there. Good job, Kate – give yourself a pat on the back in the meantime :)

Carl started the show around 8 with his first set since having his tonsils ripped from his throat. He did well, considering his surgery was less than a month before, in addition to the complications he had with healing... He was less than pleased with his performance, but we’re all our own worst critics. I think he sounded almost as good as new – it was great to hear his soothing voice croon over his light finger picking again. He’ll probably make someone cry with his mad skills somewhere along the tour. Watch for it, I’ll be sure to let you know.

before

after

I was up next. I kept it short and sweet (like me!).

The Brothers Burn Mountain were the headliners, and they stormed the stage as soon as I got off. Actually, they were very soft-spoken, and kind of slinked their way onto the stage. Then they started playing, and they were no longer quiet.



The Brothers Burn Mountain hail from somewhere in between Milwaukee and Madison. I’m not sure what they teach their kids in that region of the great Cheese State, but the curriculum must involve “how to be as expressive as is physically possible." No joke, the drummer is one of the most, if not the most, expressive musician one could see in an entire lifetime.


We sold a shirt, gave away a few buttons, got some coffee for the road, and headed down to Madison to spend the eve at my mom’s friends Crystal's and Jay’s house. They have a singing dog (one of her favorite melodies to sing to is the All Things Considered theme song). We had a lot of fun with that.

Next up: Red Stag Supper Club, Minneapolis, MN.

Driving Music:
Ray LaMontagne & the Pariah Dogs - God Willin’ & the Creek Don’t Rise
Jenny Lewis - Acid Tongue
The Leadership - Frontiers
Robin Pecknold - Three Songs
Wilco - Summerteeth
Portugal. The Man - It’s Complicated Being a Wizard
Shipwreck - Rabbit in the Kitchen With a New Dress On
Ben Sollee & Daniel Martin Moore - Dear Companion
Vandaveer - Daytrotter Session
Sigur Rós - Takk
Tune-Yards - W H O K I L L
The Dirty Projectors - Bitte Orca
Fionn Regan - The End of History
Pink Floyd - Animals
Sharon Von Etten - Epic
Tom Waits - Closing Time

(the encore...)