Here's the Thing

When I was about 19 or 20 years old I decided that I didn't want to like or dislike specific genres or styles of music. I came to the conclusion that I could just like music that was good. That way when I hear a good country or rap song I can get into it without having to defend myself. I also noticed that all of the musicians that I respected had very broad taste in music, and listened to a variety of artists, many whom I had never even heard of. It sounded like a good idea to check out who these people were, and what was so good about them.

At the time I was listening to a lot of Eric Clapton. (I know, I know.) Clapton mentioned in an interview that he really liked Curtis Mayfield, so I checked that out, along with a good deal of Delta blues artists, like Son House and Robert Johnson. It was different, and some of it was a little hard to get into, but it grew on me, and stretched me.

I also realized at some point that, as a musician, if you want to sound like an artist whom you admire, you need to listen to the music they listen to, not just the artist him or herself. If I wanted to sound like Dave Matthews, and all I listened to was Dave Matthews, I would end up sounding like some kid who listened to way too much Dave Matthews (see: John Mayer).

I eventually started looking for the music that musicians listen to. This got me into a bunch of goofy stuff that I totally love, but took a little work to understand. Honestly, there's a lot of ear candy out there, but finding something that is really an honest artistic expression is something that a platinum record or an MTV video cannot match.

As I continue to look for new and interesting music, I will sometimes implore a friend to check out something I'm into. Usually I'll get the polite listen, and then a shrug. "It's okay. Sounds kind of chaotic though." This generally means "That's not the way John Mayer would have done it. He's so dreamy." Other times I just get overt mockery in return. It doesn't hurt my feelings, and I don't feel insulted, because I understand. Some people view music as nice-sounding background noise. Other people see music as art, and really look for what the artist is trying to express, instead of comparing what they hear to the bland, glossy, lukewarm, radio-friendly vomit that sells so well to high school girls and soccer moms everywhere. Trust me; if M. Ward wanted to make a frat party record, he could. It just doesn't interest him, or me.

Here's the thing. If you are fine with musical stagnancy, fine. But don't look at me crosseyed for preferring things a little more unusual.

Last night we found a place just off the highway to get some rest under the Redwoods, and actually slept fairly well. We rolled through Crescent City this morning, stopping for breakfast and coffee, and made our way over highway 199 and back across the border back into Oregon and through the back side of Grants Pass. From there the trip was fairly uneventful, mostly just making a mad dash for Portland.

Blake and I spent six full days driving, and only a total of about 11 hours on interstates. I think we did the trip the right way, too, keeping flexible expectations and a small list of demands. It had been years since my last road trip, and it was an experience I'll never forget. Maybe the next trip will be the of two-wheeled variety. That sounds like fun.

Today was all about the ocean. We crossed the Golden Gate Bridge just after 9am, and made our way up highway 1 from San Francisco. The going was very slow, but included some of the nicest coastal views I have seen. After spending most of the day in the car it's nice to be sitting in a little pub in Eureka that happens to have wifi. After the Seahawks are finished getting dominated by sneaking past the Dallas Cowboys we'll head toward the Redwoods and find a quiet spot to pull over and get some sleep. In the morning we'll head up highway 199 and connect with I-5 for the big return. It's been an amazing trip; what else can I say?

Woke up this morning at Randy and Kathy's after the best night of sleep I've had on this trip. We rolled out of Sonora in the mid-to-late morning and made our way across to Monterey and Point Lobos. The guidance of Randy and Kathy helped us to refine and readjust our plans, and we have decided to work our way up highway 1, without stumbling over the typical tourist attractions.



After Point Lobos, and dinner at Phil's in Moss Landing, we ended up in San Francisco, where we are crashing with more of Blake's old rowing friends from college. We painted the town, and now we'll sleep. Tomorrow we'll start heading north, and for that I'm glad. As much fun as I'm having I'll be happy to be back at home with Molly again.

The first half of today was all about adventure. We woke up at about 5:15 this morning in Reno and headed south. We may have picked the worst possible day to cross the mountains into California, since a wet winter storm was rolling in with fresh load of new snow. From Reno we drove south on highway 395, and then over the pass on highway 88. We pulled off the road and chained up after semi-intentionally spinning around, and drove for a few hours through some of the most beautiful and treacherous roads in recent memory.



From the east side of the mountains it was a race down through Sonora and out to Yosemite National Park, where we had precious little time to take in the scenery. The park itself was another winter wonderland, with rangers enforcing the mandatory chains rule. There was so much snow, and so much fog, that we were actually unable to see most of what Yosemite is all about. We couldn't even see El Capitan or Half Dome through the white walls of falling snow. Even the bits that were visible made the trip worth while, though, and the surreal conditions made it an unforgettable experience.


We left Yosemite around 5pm and headed back to Sonora, where we had dinner with Randy and Kathy, who are old family friends of Molly's. These are some amazing and wonderful people, and it has been great to see them again; it's been literally years, and that's not ok. We'll stay overnight here tonight, and head west in the morning. It's time to see the ocean.

Today Blake and I drove to Lake Tahoe and hiked up to a nice little viewpoint. It's beautiful country down here, and I haven't been out this way since I was a wee lad. I learned that the Ponderosa Ranch no longer exists, as it went bankrupt and the land was sold to a developer. Oh well. We'll stay in Reno again tonight and leave early in the morning for Yosemite National Park, which I hear is where the wild things are. After that...

Blake and I left Portland at around 9 this morning, headed south on I-5 to Mt. Shasta City, and then over the mountain and through the woods to Reno. The drive was smooth and beautiful. Once we got away from the interstate we were treated to several hours of snowy forests and fields. We rolled into Reno at about 7:30 tonight and are crashing with Erick, Blake's old college buddy. Nothing but good times so far, and more to come, I hope.

The surprise of the day was rolling through Roseburg, OR. I told Blake that we could see my grandparents' old house off to the left, but as we passed it, I noticed that it was in a small pile, along with several other neighboring homes. I knew that was the eventual plan, but it was still strange to see, so we had to stop and take some pictures of the ruins. Weird.

Blake and I are going on a road trip this week, after being all talk for the better part of a decade. I'm not sure where we'll end up, but we have about 5 days, so there's plenty of room for adventure. We're heading to Reno first, after that...

I'll be bringing my trusty camera and powerbook, and I'll try to post from Goatroperville, or wherever we happen to find ourselves.