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Everytime I visit the Las Vegas Blvd. Ross Dress For Less...
So I tend to go to Vegas about once a year, and everytime I do I always forget some sort of important clothing item. Whether that be flip flops, bathing suit, a hat, sunglasses, or just cooler clothes - so I usually end up hitting up the Ross which is located near Hard Rock Casino. Sure I could go to a more trendy store, but where I actually live is pretty cold, so why would I spend a hundreds of dollars on a trendy swim suit if I'm only gonna wear it once a year? The clothes I get at ross are meant to be expendable, often times I don't even bring them back home with me. Anyhow, every damn time I go into the Ross I get asked to help somebody find shoes or something. I have no idea why, and it doesn't matter how I dress. I can be in a hoodie, I can be in a wife beater, heck I could be in full blown suit...in fact, my most recent visit had me actually in a trendy blazer. I was trying to get into one of the night clubs and they told me my sneakers were against dress code. That if I were to wear sneakers they must be all black - so I headed to Ross and purchased a comfortable pair of black sketchers for 30 bucks. All the Ross employees in this particular store wore blue collar shirts, black pants, and name tags. I was wearing a jet black blazer, dark blue jeans, and a white t-shirt with a Naruto graphic on it (its sounds nerdy, but it worked). To enter the store you must go up an escalator, immediately upon me reaching the top I'm approached by a lady who wants to know where the dressing rooms are. I'm taken back at how quickly this is all coming together - anyhow, I tell her the dressing rooms are down the escalator. They aren't, that is actually the exit...but she heads down anyhow, and sets off the anti-theft device. Security quickly follows her down, thinking she's trying to steal a bunch of items. Meanwhile I head up the next escalator to the top floor where they house the shoes. As I'm checking sizes another lady approaches me and asks me if I have any of a particular sized shoe in the back. I let her know that those shoes are actually on clearance and she can find them by heading down both escalators (the exit again) and entering the Ross Clearance Depot section next door. I walk down another shoe aisle, where some teenager wants to know if I have anymore of a particular shoe brand, I also instruct him to head to the Ross Clearance Dept section next door (it's actually the Hard Rock Cafe). Then I finally find my shoes, but decide I'm going to pick up an alternative shirt...I'm getting elf conscious about rocking a Naruto shirt into LIGHT Nightclub. So I'm looking at the T-Shirts, while holding my sketchers, and a couple (w/ strong southern accents) walk up to me wanting to know where the towels are - I also send them to the Hard Rock Cafe. I eventually pay for my stuff, and head on out. As I pass security I make some small talk, as I comment that he must have his hands full tonight on account of the fact that the alarm keeps on going off. He replies: "Nah, that's just a bunch of people thinking we have sale items downstairs for some reason."
Fresh out of prison, I took a job as a night shift janitor and have been experiencing some strange things...
Briar Hill Elementary School was always such an innocent place, like it existed in its own universe of purity immune to the outside influence of sin. That is, until they were forced to hire me as the night shift janitor. I haven’t always made the best choices in life. I was running with the wrong crowd for a long time, and while it’s easy to blame those circumstances for my current situation, blame really can only fall on my own shoulders. My friends urged me to rob that convenience store. I could’ve said no. My friends urged me to start selling pot. I could’ve said no. My friends urged me to try the needle “just once”... My early 20’s are a complete blur. A drug-fueled, crime-riddled blur. I don’t know if I ever experienced a genuine connection or a single moment of true happiness during that period, even if I had managed to trick myself into thinking that way. During that time I conceived a son who is now 7 years old. I’ve only met him twice. Last I heard, his mother still hasn’t put down the meth pipe. My domino effect of questionable choices eventually landed me in prison with a Third Degree felony for automobile theft. They definitely could’ve landed a lot more on me, so I considered myself lucky on the day they closed the cell doors. I suffered from severe withdrawal symptoms early on and was pretty miserable in prison, but eventually adjusted and got out early for good behavior. This was just a couple months ago, and I’m sure we are all well aware of what happened to the world around April 2020. Just what I needed: an extra hurdle on my path to resuming a normal, civilized life. The first few weeks getting back on my feet were brutal. I had eroded every layer of trust with my family throughout my drug years by stealing money and lying to them constantly. It would take a lot more than a phone call saying I’m out and ready to change in order to repair those relationships. I kind of floated around, being half-homeless and scrounging for whatever I could just to eat. I searched for jobs however I could, but Covid severely limited my options even more than they already were as an applicant with a felony. Within a few days I managed to hit the jackpot...or so I thought at the time. Little did I know I was playing the Devil’s Casino. You would think a felon would automatically be at the bottom of the list of job candidates to work in a school, even for a custodial night shift. But this was a special job, and Briar Hill Elementary School was having a hard time filling the position. A few weeks before, the man who’d held the job for nearly three decades was found dead of a heart attack in a hallway. They hired two people to fill the position since: both quit within a week, offering little reason why. When you can’t keep a fully socially-distanced job filled during a pandemic with record unemployment, there’s got to be some sort of horrible catch. But I didn’t have a choice. I was applying everywhere I could, but there were so few jobs hiring and even fewer were calling me back. I was incredibly surprised to see that Briar Hill contacted me, and given my limited options I eagerly accepted their virtual interview. I could tell during that interview that they were just as desperate as I was. The pay was reasonable, the hours were reasonable, and they wanted me to start as soon as possible. They asked me no questions about my prior felony, it was as if they would take literally anyone at this point. It hardly felt like an interview, more like a sales pitch. There was no way I could turn the opportunity down. I arrived for my first day...or, night...and the head custodian is walking me through the school and outlining the kinds of things I’ll be expected to do. Empty every trash can. Vacuum carpeted areas, sweep and mop tiled areas. Wash windows, mirrors, and doors. Stock bathrooms. Occasionally clean out an HVAC grill or replace a lightbulb. Repetitive, monotonous, tedious...but I was so happy to have found a job and an opportunity to restart a stabilized life. My first day on my own was pretty uneventful. I carried out the tasks I was given and I got to listen to some music through some headphones while I worked, I really couldn’t complain. The next night I was told by the head custodian that I had done a great job, so that was nice to hear. Near the end of the night I had finished my work and was back in the custodial offices just kind of looking around, and I found a notebook stashed behind a desk. It was pretty forcefully shoved back there, like someone was hiding it on purpose. It seemed like the thing was filled with writing from front to back. The first half looked like a bunch of poems...not really my thing. But about halfway through the writing started to get a little weird. There were strange, erratic pen drawings, like the artist was tweaking out while scribbling all over the paper. On nearly every page there was a short phrase and a date, and each seemed related to the school. “G bathroom 2f 1/15” was written at the top of a page with an awfully strange picture of what looked like a disembodied, floating torso against a wall. Another said “teacher lounge 2/26” near a drawing of what looked like a big group of people standing around a table, with each person’s face aggressively scribbled out. As far as I knew, only custodians ever came back to this office so it would seem this likely belonged to one of them. I flipped to the back and then were a few empty pages. The final page with any writing on it simply had the name “Alfred Lawrence” written over and over, something like 50 times from the top to the bottom of the page. It was written identically each time, with an impressive level of consistency. Who the hell writes their name like this over and over? I hopped on one of the dusty, old custodian computers and searched for that name in the school district directory. It was the name of the prior night shift custodian who had died of the heart attack. Okay, so I’m holding a dead man’s notebook in my hands, and not only that but it has some really weird shit in it. Kind of a strange feeling, and based on where it was hidden I don’t think he intended for anyone to find this. My shift was winding down and the early morning custodian was set to arrive soon, so I shoved the notebook back where I found it and intended to check it out more another day. Just as I did that, my replacement waltzed in. “Mornin,” he remarked lazily. I was still adjusting to the fact that my shift ended in the morning. Definitely something that would take a while to get used to. “Good morning. Hey, did you know Alfred Lawrence all that well?” I tried to ask as casually as possible. He looked over at me almost accusatory, like he thought I must be up to no good if I was asking about the dead man. This guy’s name was Jim Henson, and so far we’d only exchanged ten words at most. “Not really, I’d show up and then he’d leave. Same thing for twenty years. Shame how he passed” he threw in as an aside. I nodded. “Well, have a good shift”. The next night I was pretty anxious to get ahold of that notebook again, maybe learn more about how Alfred Lawrence ticked and why he was making those odd drawings. I tossed it onto my janitor cart and headed out into the school. Whenever I came across a new area, I flipped through the back half of the notebook to see if Alfred had drawn anything that corresponds. The first major area I would clean was the cafetera, and sure enough I found a page that was labeled “cafe 11/19”. The drawing was a decent untalented depiction of the cafeteria: long rows of tables with hastily drawn stick-chairs. What creeped me out was the pairs of sinister looking eyes under each of the tables, accompanied by an exaggerated grin with no discernible face. I set the notebook down and looked out at the cafeteria, scanning each end looking for anything out of the ordinary. It all seemed like a normal, happy elementary school cafeteria to me. What inspired Alfred to make these weird drawings? Did he just have a twisted imagination of spooky creatures inhabiting an elementary school? No matter what the motivation, it fascinated me and I intended to keep studying the notebook as I went around the school tonight. I grabbed my mop and got to work in the cafeteria, getting lost as I repetitively swiped back and forth while traversing the ocean of chairs and tables. The rock music in my ears was grooving along, but then suddenly the song stopped at the exact same instant that a chair clear across the cafeteria scooted itself out from under its table. The simultaneous music-stopped and chair-sliding certainly caught my attention. My heart rate immediately sped up, and I felt a chill creep down my spine. Chairs don’t move themselves, especially in an empty elementary school. I leaned the mop against a wall and slowly crept towards the scene of the spookiness. My heart didn’t want to look under the table, but my head sure wanted to know how the hell that happened, so I got up to the table and dropped to the ground. I saw nothing, and especially no pair of sinister eyes. My temporary relief was replaced with frustration and more fear: what if the culprit behind the moving chair had simply escaped off into another part of the school? I had let my imagination run wild while looking at Alfred’s notebook, when in reality there was likely a human in here that was either messing with me or trying to do something genuinely malevolent. The only way that was possible though is if someone had managed to hide in the school at the end of the day and stay hidden throughout the evening. If anyone were to try and enter the school now, even a staff member, the alarms would go off and I would be abundantly aware of another’s presence. I decided to head back to the office and check the cameras. I had no way of rewinding to see what might have moved that chair in the moment, but I could see the live feed of basically every hallway in the school. I found myself nearing a full-on sprint to get back to the office so that I could hopefully catch the feed before the mystery chair-slider got back to their hiding place. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw when I got back into the office. On every single camera feed, in every single hallway or major room of the school, there was a pair of evil looking eyes with a wild grin, staring directly up at the camera. No body, no face, no distinguishable features at all. Just eyes, unmoving yet wickedly focused. It’s like something was trying to aggressively tell me: you are being watched. Everywhere. I was so freaked out I realized I wasn’t breathing. I could not believe what I was seeing. I had just been running through these very same halls, and I saw nothing even remotely resembling pairs of floating eyes. I dashed to the computer and shut it off, intending to reboot it and make sure it wasn’t just some inexplicable camera malfunction or something. The computer came back on and the camera feeds were back to normal. As I hastily returned to the cafeteria, I started to realize that maybe Alfred’s notebook wasn’t just a work of imagination. What if he was keeping a record of all the weird shit that he experienced in the school? What if all of this was related to his death? Back in the cafeteria, I took a few moments to try and calm myself down while analyzing every inch of my surroundings. I’m not even sure what I would do if I were to spot a pair of floating eyes. What even could I do? Run up at them and swing at them with my mop? I mean I certainly don’t want dirty mop water getting in my eyes, so maybe that would scare them off? Realizing my internal monologue had turned towards the ridiculous, I got back to work cleaning. I had lost about half an hour of progress towards cleaning everything, but I still had plenty of time to get the job done as long as nothing creepy happened again. And that’s exactly how the rest of the night went down: entirely uneventful, although every step of the way my paranoia continued to grow. When I got back to the office, the cameras again looked totally normal. Empty hallways, no creepy eyes. I hid the notebook again and used my last few minutes to relax. Henson waltzed in at the end of my shift again, looking tired and annoyed. We exchanged the usual pleasantries. I was trying to act normal, but I couldn’t really hold back the weird shit I had just witnessed during my shift. Perhaps going against my better judgment, I asked him if he’d ever seen anything strange in the school. “Anything strange? Like what?” he chuckled as he asked. “I don’t know, just like…” I tried to come up with a suitable explanation without necessarily describing exactly what I saw. “Have you ever felt like you’re being watched while you’re alone in the school? You work for a couple hours here before anyone shows up, right?” He kept an unflinching gaze on me. “Can’t say I’ve ever felt that way, but the two fellas they tried to hire before you might have mentioned something like that.” “Really? Any more detail you can give me?” Henson smirked, but it seemed more like a concerned smirk than an amused smirk. “Can’t really recall. They said they didn’t feel safe here or something. Neither lasted more than a week. Alfred always seemed fine. Not sure what their deal was.” I shrugged and tried to portray confidence. “Well I definitely get a weird vibe here too, maybe it’s just because someone died here recently. I’ll get over it. Have a good shift, Jim.” I’ll never forget what he said as I got ready to walk out. It confirmed to me that something weird was going on here, and it was something I was just going to have to deal with. What other choice did I have? I wasn’t going to be finding another job, and if I left I’d just be back to the cycle of desperate homelessness that I only so recently escaped. I have to tough this out, and if that means getting to the bottom of what is happening at Briar Hill Elementary, then so be it. As I left, Henson said to me: “Have a good day. We’ll be keeping our eyes on ya”.
The COMPLETE Year-By-Year Jamiroquai Tour History META | Year #19-#20: 2010-2011
Hello Jamiroquai! This is the thirteenth META post for a new expansive series I have been wanting to do for some time for the subreddit, "The COMPLETE Year-By-Year Jamiroquai Tour History META'! This information will be eventually added to the Jamiroquai WIKI Page in it's entirety in the future but for the time being, it will be a recurring post series. All of this information is being imparted to us from the Funkin Site fansite, massive thanks to my pal David Rowe for collecting all this important tour information during the nearly past +30 years of the band history, I hope everyone in the Reddit Jamily enjoys this & MUCH MORE TO COME! Cheers Reddit Jamily!
The COMPLETE Year-By-Year Jamiroquai Tour History META | Year #19-#20: 2010-2011:
2010
Date Of Gig
Country
Concert & Additional Info
24 Jun 10 (Thu)
UK, London, Debut London
Performed: Revolution, When You Gonna Learn, If I Like It I Do It, Light Years, Virtual Insanity, Too Young To Die, Little L, Alright, Hooked Up, Corner Of The Earth, Space Cowboy, Cosmic Girl, Rock Dust Light Star, Love Foolosophy, Just Another Story, Deeper Underground. Exclusive 'warm-up' gig two days prior to the band supporting Stevie Wonder at the Hard Rock Calling event in London's Hyde Park.
26 Jun 10 (Sat)
UK, London, Hyde Park, Hard Rock Calling
Performed: Revolution, When You Gonna Learn, If I Like It I Do It, Virtual Insanity, Too Young To Die, Little L, Alright, Hooked Up, Space Cowboy, Love Foolosophy, Deeper Underground. Jamiroquai are one of the support acts for Stevie Wonder, who headlines the second day of this three day festival in central London.
02 Jul 10 (Fri)
France, Arras, Main Square Festival
Performed: Revolution 1993, When You Gonna Learn, If I Like It I Do It, Light Years, Cosmic Girl, Black Capricorn Day, Little L, Alright, Love Foolosophy, Deeper Underground
11 Jul 10 (Sun)
Hungary, Zamardi, Balaton Sound Festival
Performed: Revolution 1993, High Times, If I Like It I Do It, Virtual Insanity, Light Years, Little L, Alright, Hooked Up, Corner Of The Earth, Space Cowboy, Cosmic Girl, Rock Dust Light Star, Love Foolosophy, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground
14 Jul 10 (Wed)
Switzerland, Locarno, Moon and Stars Festival
Performed: Revolution, High Times, If I Like It I Do It, Virtual Insanity, Light Years, Little L, Alright, Hooked Up, When You Gonna Learn, Blow Your Mind, Space Cowboy, Cosmic Girl, Rock Dust Light Star, Love Foolosophy, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground
16 Jul 10 (Fri)
Italy, Naples, Neapolis Festival
Performed: Revolution, High Times, If I like It I Do It, Virtual Insanity, Light Years, Little L, Alright, Blow Your Mind, When You Gonna Learn, Hooked Up, Space Cowboy, Cosmic Girl, Rock Dust Light Star, Canned Heat, Love Foolosophy, Deeper Underground
18 Jul 10 (Sun)
France, Carhaix, Festival des Vieilles Charrues
Performed: Revolution, High Times, If I Like It I Do It, Virtual Insanity, Light Years, Little L, Alright, Black Capricorn Day, When You Gonna Learn, Space Cowboy, Cosmic Girl, Love Foolosophy, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground
19 Jul 10 (Mon)
France, Carcassonne, Grand Theatre
Performed: Revolution, High Times, If I Like It I Do It, Virtual Insanity, Light Years, Little L, Alright, Hooked Up, When You Gonna Learn, Space Cowboy, Cosmic Girl, Love Foolosophy, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground
21 Jul 10 (Wed)
France, Nimes, Nimes Arena
Performed: Revolution, When You Gonna Learn, If I Like It I Do It, Light Years, Little L, Cosmic Girl, Alright, Virtual Insanity, Rock Dust Light Star, Too Young To Die, Space Cowboy, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground
23 Jul 10 (Fri)
Switzerland, Paleo Festival
Performed: Revolution, High Times, If I Like It I Do It, Virtual Insanity, Light Years, Little L, Alright, Hooked Up, When You Gonna Learn, Just Another Story, Space Cowboy, Cosmic Girl, Rock Dust Light Star, Love Foolosophy, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground
24 Jul 10 (Sat)
Austria, Vienna, Nova Jazz Festival
No Info
26 Jul 10 (Mon)
Monaco, Monte Carlo, Sporting Club
Performed: Blow Your Mind, High Times, If I Like It I Do It, Virtual Insanity, Light Years, Little L, Alright, Hooked Up, When You Gonna Learn, Black Capricorn Day, Space Cowboy, Cosmic Girl, Love Foolosophy, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground
27 Jul 10 (Tue)
Monaco, Monte Carlo, Sporting Club
Performed: You Give Me Something, High Times, If I Like It I Do It, Virtual Insanity, Light Years, Little L, Alright, Hooked Up/Just Another Story, When You Gonna Learn, Black Capricorn Day, Space Cowboy, Cosmic Girl, Rock Dust Light Star, Love Foolosophy, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground. This is the second of two gigs at the Monte Carlo Sporting Club.
29 Jul 10 (Thu)
Belgium, Tienen, Suikerrock Festival
Performed: Revolution, High Times, If I Like It I Do It, Virtual Insanity, Light Years, You Give Me Something, Little L, Alright, Black Capricorn Day, When You Gonna Learn, Space Cowboy, Cosmic Girl, Love Foolosophy, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground
06 Aug 10 (Fri)
Portugal, Sudoeste Festival
No Info
09 Sep 10 (Thu)
UK, London (Knightsbridge), Mandarin Oriental Hotel
Performed: Love Foolosophy, Smokin Mirrors, LifeLine, Hurtin, Rock Dust Light Star, Blue Skies, White Knuckle Ride. Exclusive press/record-company 'showcase' gig to promote the album Rock Dust Light Star.
28 Sep 10 (Tue)
UK, London, BBC Television Studios, Later with Jools Holland (tv) (broadcast date)
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Blue Skies, Deeper Underground
09 Oct 10 (Sat)
Colombia, Bogota, Nem Catacoa Festival
No Info
12 Oct 10 (Tue)
Brazil, Programa do Jo (tv) (broadcast date)
Performed: White Knuckle Ride, Love Foolosophy. Paul Turner did not perform with the band for this television appearance. His place was taken by Dale Davis.
16 Oct 10 (Sat)
Brazil, Sao Paulo, Natura Nos Festival
Performed: Revolution, High Times, If I Like It I Do It, Virtual Insanity, Rock Dust Light Star, Little L, Alright, White Knuckle Ride, Black Capricorn Day, When You Gonna Learn, Cosmic Girl, Blue Skies, Love Foolosophy, Rock Dust Light Star (second version), Canned Heat, Deeper Underground
20 Oct 10 (Wed)
UK, London (Kentish Town), Forum
Performed: Revolution, High Times, Rock Dust Light Star, Little L, Alright, Corner of the Earth, White Knuckle Ride, Black Capricorn Day, Cosmic Girl, Blue Skies, Love Foolosophy, Hurtin', Canned Heat, Deeper Underground. This concert is one of a series of concerts as part of the 'Q Awards 2010.'
22 Oct 10 (Fri)
Switzerland, Basel, Festival Hall, AVO Session Basel
Performed: Revolution, Rock Dust Light Star, Little L, Alright, Cosmic Girl, Black Capricorn Day, Blue Skies, Love Foolosophy, Canned Heat
28 Oct 10 (Thu)
Netherlands, Amsterdam, De Wereld Draait Door (tv)
Performed: Blue Skies (acoustic)
29 Oct 10 (Fri)
Netherlands, Amsterdam, Paradiso
Performed: Revolution, High Times, Little L, Alright (slow version), Hurting, Smoke and Mirrors, Black Capricorn Day, Rock Dust Light Star (acoustic), All Good In The Hood, Love Foolosophy, Cosmic Girl, Deeper Underground
31 Oct 10 (Sun)
UK, London (Wembley), The Fountain Studios, The X Factor (tv)
Performed: White Knuckle Ride. After performing Jay said he had 'reservations before appearing on the show' - and I'm sure the female judges did too after reading the 'quotes' that were printed from Jay in the Sun newspaper (UK) the previous day!
02 Nov 10 (Tue)
Italy, The X Factor (tv)
Performed: White Knuckle Ride
04 Nov 10 (Thu)
UK, London, AIR Studios, BBC Radio 2 In Concert
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, High Times, Smoke & Mirrors, Little L, Alright, All Good In The Hood, Love Foolosophy, She's A Fast Persuader, Blue Skies, Deeper Underground. 100 pairs of free tickets to this concert were given away by BBC Radio Two (UK). Concert broadcast on BBC Radio Two.
05 Nov 10 (Fri)
UK, London (Camden Town), Jazz Cafe
Performed: Revolution, High Times, Smoke and Mirrors, Hurtin', All Good In The Hood, Little L, Alright, Love Foolosophy, She's A Fast Persuader, Rock Dust Light Star, Blue Skies, White Knuckle Ride, Cosmic Girl, Deeper Underground. This gig was for winners of a competition organised by HMV.
09 Nov 10 (Tue)
Switzerland, Zurich, Kaufleuten
Tickets can be won via the 20min.ch website. This is a small 'showcase' gig.
15 Nov 10 (Mon)
France,Paris, L'Arc
Performed: Rock Light Dust Star, Smoke & Mirrors, All Good In The Hood, Hurtin', She's A Fast Persuader, Alright, White Knuckle Ride, Love Foolosophy, Deeper Underground. This is a private album launch gig promoted by Virgin Radio in France.
15 Nov 10 (Mon)
France, Paris, Grand Journal de Canal+ (tv)
Performed: White Knuckle Ride, Love Foolosophy, Rock Dust Light Star
20 Nov 10 (Sat)
Australia, Sydney (Point Piper), Take 40 Australia Party
Performed: Hurtin', Cosmic Girl, All Good In The Hood, She's A Fast Persuader, Alright, Love Foolosophy, Deeper Underground. An exclusive mansion house was rented in Point Piper to host the Take 40 Australia/Singstar party. The band performed outside in the garden on a stage built on top of a swimming pool!
21 Nov 10 (Sun)
Australia, Sydney, The X Factor (tv)
Performed: Canned Heat. The band performed Canned Heat and Jay sung alongside X-Factor finalist Sally Chatfield.
22 Nov 10 (Mon)
Australia, Sydney, The X Factor (tv)
Performed: White Knuckle Ride
24 Nov 10 (Wed)
Japan, Tokyo, Refreshing (tv)
Performed: White Knuckle Ride
24 Nov 10 (Wed)
Japan, Tokyo (Shinjuku)
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, White Knuckle Ride. The band performed a short set on a stage set up outside on the streets of Tokyo for the launch of the Azul by Moussy store in Shinjuku. This performance was not officially announced or confirmed, but word spread round and the streets were full of people. Shortly before the band came on stage guitarist Rob Harris tweeted 'About to perform I Shinjuku. Closing down a street, pandemonium.'
28 Nov 10 (Sun)
Germany, Stuttgart, Zapata
Performed: Cosmic Girl, Rock Dust Light Star, Smokin Mirrors, Alright, All Good In The Hood, Hurtin', Lifeline, She's A Fast Persuader, Blue Skies, White Knuckle Ride, Love Foolosophy, Deeper Underground
11 Dec 10 (Sat)
Norway, Oslo, Spektrum Arena, Nobel Peace Prize Concert
Performed: Canned Heat, Lifeline, Virtual Insanity. Following the concert the band performed an impromptu two hour gig at the hotel they were staying at!
2011
Date Of Gig
Country
Concert & Additional Info
21 Jan 11 (Fri)
UK, London, Alan Carr Show (tv) (recording date)
Performed: Lifeline. The show was broadcast on UK television three days after filming.
28 Jan 11 (Fri)
UK, The Sun Sessions (recording date)
Recording of a live 'session' for The Sun newspaper website.
30 Jan 11 (Sun)
UK, London, Comedy Rocks (recording date)
Performed: Lifeline, All Good In The Hood, (and a few little snippets of songs to introduce acts and go in/out of commercial breaks). Jamiroquai are the 'house band' on this ITV comedy television show. The show was recorded on 30 January.
07 Feb 11 (Mon)
France, Paris, Taratata (tv) (recording date)
Performed: Deeper Underground, Rock Dust Light Star, California Soul (by Marlena Shaw), White Knuckle Ride
07 Mar 11 (Mon)
France, Paris, L'Olympia
The band performed a set lasting around 45 minutes at a private show as part of a 15 year celebration of fashion label Paul & Joe during Paris Fashion Week.
18 Mar 11 (Fri)
Switzerland, Zurich, Hallenstadion
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, All Good In The Hood, Use The Force, Hang It Over, When You Gonna Learn, Blue Skies, Virtual Insanity, Smoke n Mirrors, Little L, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, Scam, Hey Floyd, Alright, White Knuckle Ride, Feels Just Like It Should
21 Mar 11 (Mon)
Germany, Hamburg, O2 World
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vain, Cosmic Girl, All Good In The Hood, Use The Force, Hang It Over, When You Gonna Learn, Angeline, Little L, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, Scam, Hey Floyd, Alright, White Knuckle Ride, Feels Just Like It Should
23 Mar 11 (Wed)
France, Paris, Bercy
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, Smoke & Mirrors, Use the Force, Hang it Over, You Give Me Something, She's a Fast Persuader, Little L, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, (Scam Break), All Good in the Hood, Alright, White Knuckle Ride, Feels Just Like It Should
24 Mar 11 (Thu)
France, CANCELLED: Lyon, Halle Toni Garnier
On the afternoon of the concert the following message was posted at the Jamiroquai facebook page: Due to a tragic accident at the Halle Toni Garnier Arena, the gig at Lyon on 24th March (tonight) is regrettably cancelled. The band were shocked and saddened when told the news, and out of respect immediately felt the right decision was to cancel the show. A police investigation is taking place which would also have prevented the show from happening. We know how disappointed fans will feel, but can only say at this point, the gig will be re-arranged and we will have news of the revised date as soon as possible.
26 Mar 11 (Sat)
Germany, Munich, Olympiahalle
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, All Good In The Hood, Use The Force, You Give Me Something, Hurtin', Little L, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, Hey Floyd, Feels Just Like It Should, Alright, White Knuckle Ride
28 Mar 11 (Mon)
Austria, Vienna, Stadthalle
No Info
30 Mar 11 (Wed)
Italy, Milan, Forum
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, Smoke and Mirrors, Use the Force, You Give Me Something, Hurtin, Little L, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground, Feels Just Like It Should, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, All Good in the Hood, Alright, White Knuckle Ride, When You Gonna Learn
31 Mar 11 (Thu)
Italy, Mantua, Palabam
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, Smoke & Mirrors, Use the Force, You Give Me Something, Hurtin', Little L, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground, Love Foolosophy, Use the Force, All Good in the Hood, Alright, White Knucle Ride
02 Apr 11 (Sat)
Italy, Turin, Pala Olympico
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, Smoke & Mirrors, Use The Force, You Give Me Something, Space Cowboy, Little L, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, All Good in the Hood, Alright, White Knuckle Ride
03 Apr 11 (Sun)
Italy, Florence, Mandela Forum
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, Smoke & Mirror, Use the Force, You Give Me Something, Hurtin', She's a Fast Persuader, Little L, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, All Good in the Hood, Alright, White Knuckle Ride
05 Apr 11 (Tue)
Luxembourg, Rockhal
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, Smoke & Mirrors, You Give Me Something, Hurtin', Little L, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground, Love Foolosophy, Space cowboy, Travelling Without Moving, Scam, All Good In The Hood, Alright, White Knuckle Ride
On the day of the concert Jamiroquai.com posted the following message "Unfortunately owing to illness tonights Jamiroquai concert in Oberhausen has had to be cancelled. We apologise for any inconvenience caused and will advise of the rescheduled date for the concert as soon as we can."
13 Apr 11 (Wed)
Netherlands, Rotterdam, Ahoy
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, Smoke & Mirrors, You Give Me Something, Hurtin', Little L, Canned Heat, Deeper Underground, Space Cowboy, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, All Good In The Hood, Alright, White Knuckle Ride
15 Apr 11 (Fri)
UK, London (Greenwich), O2 Arena
No Info
17 Apr 11 (Sun)
UK, Birmingham, LG Arena
No Info
19 Apr 11 (Tue)
UK, Manchester, MEN Arena
No Info
20 Apr 11 (Wed)
UK, Glasgow, Glasgow SECC
No Info
29 Apr 11 (Fri)
Chile, Santiago, Movistar Arena
No Info
18 May 11 (Wed)
France, Cannes, Hotel Martinez
Private gig during the Cannes Film Festival organised by clothing label Replay.
20 May 11 (Fri)
Argentina, Buenos Aires, Quilmes Rock Festival
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, You Give Me Something, Lifeline, Little L, Canned Heat, Space Cowboy, Feels Just Like It Should, Love Foolosophy, Corner Of The Earth, Travelling Without Moving, Alright, Deeper Underground, White Knuckle Ride
31 May 11 (Tue)
France, Paris, Casino de Paris
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Little L, Canned Heat, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, Scam Intro, All Good In The Hood, Alright, Deeper Underground, White Knuckle Ride, Cosmic Girl. Private concert organised by Pression Live.
08 Jun 11 (Wed)
Estonia, Tallin, Saku Arena
No Info
10 Jun 11 (Fri)
Russia, Saint Petersburg, Ice Palace
No Info
12 Jun 11 (Sun)
Russia, Moscow, Crokus City Hall
No Info
14 Jun 11 (Tue)
Ukraine, Kiev, Palace Of Sports
No Info
18 Jun 11 (Sat)
Poland, Warsaw, Orange Festival
No Info
21 Jun 11 (Tue)
Croatia, Zagreb, T-Mobile Festival
No Info
24 Jun 11 (Fri)
Bulgaria, CANCELLED: Razlog, Elevation Festival
Jamiroquai cancelled their appearance at this festival because of an injury to Jay Kay's ankle.
26 Jun 11 (Sun)
Turkey, CANCELLED: Istanbul, Kurucesme Arena
Jamiroquai cancelled their appearance at this festival because of an injury to Jay Kay's ankle.
02 Jul 11 (Sat)
Romania, Mamaia, Orange Summer Party
No Info
03 Jul 11 (Sun)
Former Yugoslavic Republic Of Macedonia, Skopje, Philip-II-Arena
No Info
09 Jul 11 (Sat)
Serbia, Novi Sad, Exit Festival
No Info
13 Jul 11 (Wed)
Germany, CANCELLED: Straubing, Jazz Donau
The concert was unfortunately cancelled on 12 July.
14 Jul 11 (Thu)
Germany, CANCELLED: Mainz, Zollhafen Nordmole
The concert was unfortunately cancelled on 12 July.
16 Jul 11 (Sat)
Switzerland, Bern, Gurten Festival
No Info
17 Jul 11 (Sun)
Germany, Ulm, Radio Festival
No Info
19 Jul 11 (Tue)
France, Arcachon, Velodrome
No Info
21 Jul 11 (Thu)
Italy, Padova, Piazzola Sul Brenta
No Info
22 Jul 11 (Fri)
Italy, Rome, Ippodromo Delle Capannelle
No Info
24 Jul 11 (Sun)
Italy, Lucca, Piazza Napoleone
No Info
26 Jul 11 (Tue)
France, CANCELLED: Bayonne, Arena
This concert was cancelled at the very last minute and the following statement was made the following day. Jay Kay would like to apologise to disappointed fans for the cancellation of last night's show in France. Jay's on-going groin injury has been diagnosed as a hernia which will be need to be operated on later in the summer. Following an MRI scan last week specialists had advised rest but Jay has insisted he wants to try to finish the current run of dates. Doctors have said that provided he manages the pain sufficiently he can continue performing if he feels able. During the course of the past two days the pain flared up again and yesterday he reluctantly decided he did not feel he well enough to perform last night. After two days rest he is hopeful he will be able to complete the remaining 4 shows of the current run, including Toulon tomorrow night. Jay said "I would like to thank fans for their understanding, this is a very frustrating injury and some days the pain is just too extreme to perform to a standard I believe is acceptable. I promise I will do my best to come back out again soon when I'm fully fit and am optimistic I'll be able to pull off the remaining shows of the run."
28 Jul 11 (Thu)
France, Nice, Palais Nikaia
No Info
29 Jul 11 (Fri)
France, Toulon, Six Four Festival
Performed: Black Capricorn Day, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, High Times, Morning Glory, Little L, Canned Heat, All Good In The Hood, Hey Floyd, Feels Just Like It Should, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, Scam, Alright, Deeper Underground, White Knuckle Ride
31 Jul 11 (Sun)
Spain, Barcelona, Poble Espanyol
No Info
03 Aug 11 (Wed)
Spain, Malaga (Auditorium Municipal)
No Info
07 Aug 11 (Sun)
Ibiza Privilege Club
No Info
05 Sep 11 (Mon)
Turkey, Istanbul, Kurucesme Arena
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, High Times, Little L, Morning Glory (Intro), Canned Heat, All Good In The Hood, Hey Floyd, Feels Just Like It Should, Love Foolosophy, Use The Force (Interlude), Travelling Without Moving, Scam (Break), Alright, Deeper Underground, White Knuckle Ride
09 Sep 11 (Fri)
Italy, Monza, Stadio Brianteo, F1 Rocks
Event organised as part of the Italian F1 Grand Prix.
29 Sep 11 (Thu)
Brazil, Rio de Janeiro (Barra da Tijuca), Olympic Park Rock City, Rock in Rio
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, High Times, Little L, Morning Glory, Canned Heat, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, Deeper Underground, White Knuckle Ride
20 Nov 11 (Sun)
Germany, Oberhausen, Konig Pilsener Arena
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, High Times, Little L, Canned Heat, All Good In The Hood, Hey Floyd, Feels Just Like It Should, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, Scam (break), Alright, Deeper Underground. Due to heavy fog in London on the day of the concert the bandmembers arrived at the venue late with no time for a soundcheck. The concert started slightly later than planned and there were many complaints about the sound quality because of the lack of soundcheck. This is the rescheduled concert that was cancelled on 12 April.
22 Nov 11 (Tue)
France, Paris, Bercy
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, High Times, Little L, Canned Heat, All Good In The Hood, Hey Floyd, Dynamite, Feels Just Like It Should, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, Alright, Deeper Underground, White Knuckle Ride
23 Nov 11 (Wed)
France, Nantes, Zenith Nantes Metropole
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, High Times, Little L, Canned Heat, All Good In The Hood, Hey Floyd, Use The Force, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, Alright, Deeper Underground, White Knuckle Ride
25 Nov 11 (Fri)
France, Strasbourg, Zenith
Performed: Rock Dust Light Star, Main Vein, Cosmic Girl, High Times, Little L, Interlude, Canned Heat, All Good In The Hood, Hey Floyd, Use The force, Love Foolosophy, Travelling Without Moving, Alright, Hurtin', Deeper Underground, White Knuckle Ride
27 Nov 11 (Sun)
France, Limoges, Zenith
No Info
28 Nov 11 (Mon)
France, Toulouse, Zenith
No Info
30 Nov 11 (Wed)
France, Lyon
No Info
03 Dec 11 (Sat)
Belgium, CANCELLED: Antwerp, Lotto Arena
The Jamiroquai Facebook page wrote the following on 28 October - "We are sorry to announce the cancellation of the gig at Lotto Arena, Antwerp (Belgium), on 3rd December. This is due to unforeseen logistical problems, which have led to the difficult decision to cancel the gig. We hope to re-arrange the gig in 2012."
I've read Gravity's Rainbow four times and thought I understood it pretty well. However, reading Beckett's Molloy/Malone Dies/The Unnameable trilogy and the Beckett biography Damned to Fame, and a lot of Jung, and going through some difficult times made me realise how much within me that I had previously repressed. The slow process of integrating everything I was in denial about has allowed me to find peace that I never thought I would attain, having been clinically depressed and suicidal for around ten years. I started reading GR again with this new understanding of myself and realised that I actually hadn't understood it properly at all. I thought I'd share a few things I realised in case they might be of interest to any of you. I will discuss the book from a psychoanalytical perspective and a political perspective here, but I do not wish to reduce what is such a brilliant novel in its own right to these elements alone; I feel like the literary perspective has been discussed far more than these aspects though, and strongly doubt I would be able to add anything new to that excellent body of existing work. Even though I have realised that the political and psychoanalytical aspects are examined and explored very overtly in GR, I think they are often underexamined because the readers themselves haven't come to terms with their own inner conflicts, and are therefore in denial about certain things in themselves, such as their own possible complicity (through inaction or otherwise) with the System - much like Pokler. Therefore I am only going to be discussing the book within the very narrow frameworks of psychoanalysis and politics, while acknowledging that this comprises only a fraction of what it really is. The sheer density of GR can make it hard to tell what the hell is going on even just in terms of things like the plot. But maybe this isn't such a surprise, Pynchon's intelligence and education, how long he spent writing it, and and how much research he had to do in the process. It's only after doing a lot of the background reading that he refers to that things started to come together for me. With subjects such as Pavlov's theories of conditioning, statistics, physics, engineering, Pynchon reproduces key concepts within the text. For example:
Pavlov was fascinated with “ideas of the opposite.” Call it a cluster of cells, somewhere on the cortex of the brain. Helping to distinguish pleasure from pain, light from dark, dominance from submission... . But when, somehow—starve them, traumatize, shock, castrate them, send them over into one of the transmarginal phases, past borders of their waking selves, past “equivalent” and “paradoxical” phases —you weaken this idea of the opposite, and here all at once is the paranoid patient who would be master, yet now feels himself a slave... who would be loved, but suffers his world’s indifference, and, “I think,” Pavlov writing to Janet, “it is precisely the ultraparadoxical phase which is the base of the weakening of the idea of the opposite in our patients.” Our madmen, our paranoid, maniac, schizoid, morally imbecile—
However, for much of the history, particular that regarding intelligence agencies (whether that is WWII activity such as the O.S.S. or the S.O.E., or CIA activity in the 60s and 70s around the time that Pynchon was writing GR in a Californian beach house, very near where groups such as the Black Panthers were operating, targets of programs such as COINTELPRO and Operation CHAOS), the books had not even been written yet. I think the first few pages, with the carriage full of evacuees, can be interpreted as moving into the darkest parts of lost or repressed history, e.g.:
and it is poorer the deeper they go... ruinous secret cities of poor, places whose names he has never heard..
These names he has never heard could range from the Herero tribe whose genocide he discovered while writing V. ten years before, to Novi Pazar (with the Adenoid passage), to the all other hidden history in the book. I have also read people remarking on how in The Crying of Lot 49 it seems like Pynchon was somehow aware of MK-Ultra (which Dr Hilarius was involved with) before well the documents were leaked and the program confirmed. However, fortunately, many these history books have since been written. If anyone is interested, a great place to start is The Devil's Chessboard: Allen Dulles, the CIA, and the Rise of America's Secret Government, published in 2016, which follows Dulles from his time at the Wall Street law firm Sullivan and Cromwell to his time in the O.S.S. in Switzerland, working with Nazis in Operation Paperclip, to his directorship of the CIA through the 50s and 60s. Reading about this Cold War history, and also the writing of Huey Newton (who I strongly believe Enzian is in part based on), made a lot of GR far clearer. It is important to recognise that these histories of intelligence agencies contain irrefutable documented facts that the public at large is collectively in denial about - because they are too dark for them to acknowledge and face. For them to acknowledge these facts requires integrating that darkness into their conscious minds, before anything can be done about it on the political level. I think that, through the incorporation of all the world's darkness, from politics to history to sexual and paedophilic fantasies to etc..., this is the Secret Integration that Pynchon is trying to accomplish, and which concept he wrote a story about, published in Slow Learner. Reading this book causes the beginnings of this process, as all of the darkness is brought into one's mind by reading it. Another crucial area for me was understanding a bit about Freud and Jung. Particularly Freud's tendency to project his own incredibly powerful repression onto his patients, because of his own compulsion to analyse and differentiate everything, much in the Western tradition, seen in, for example, his five stages of psychosexual development, oral, anal, phallic, latent and genital stages. Some people don't need to delve into the darkest aspects of their unconscious to find peace, but since Freud did, he felt the need to inflict this also on his patients - seen in the many cases where he would tell victims of childhood sexual abuse that it was due to their own subconscious desires to be raped, which could, obviously, do enormous damage to his patients. His compulsion to do this might have stemmed from, alongside his overanalytical compulsions, the truth that anything we are in denial of or repress causes inner conflicts that manifest in our daily lives, and the only way to get rid of them is to integrate them into the conscious mind. Jung's equivalent of this is his statement that “until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.” Jung's thinking on the unconscious, and particularly the notion of the collective unconscious - this idea that all the darkness in humanity is also within ourselves, and vice versa, much as in Daoism, another critical source for GR - is very useful to help understand the book. An interesting thing to consider is that the old psychoanalytic approach, more directive/authoritarian (going back to Mesmer powerfully dominating his hypnotic subjects), where the analyst would attempt to integrate these repressions into the conscious mind of the patient by force, has fallen out of favour - it is now seen that the permissive style, in which the therapist tries to help the patient realise things themselves without use of force, is a much healthier approach for the average person (though there are still some cases where the directive style can be more effective). The former's effects can be seen in GR when, after many sessions with Freud, Greta's darkest parts of her unconscious mind rise up and she begins murdering children. Pynchon links Freud's repressions to trauma carried down by Jews from life under the Romans, and elsewhere, slavery under the Ancient Egyptians, which is fundamental to their religious texts (linked itself with attitudes and trauma in the black population about the more recent black slavery).
The trouble with Sigmund was the place he happened to be living in, a drafty, crenelated deformity overlooking a cold little lake in the Bavarian Alps. Parts of it must have dated back to the fall of Rome. That was where Sigmund brought her. She had got the idea somewhere that she was part Jewish. Things in Germany by then, as everyone knows, were very bad. Margherita was terrified of being “found out.” She heard Gestapo in every puff of air that slipped in, among any of a thousand windways of dilapidation. Sigmund spent whole nights trying to talk it away. He was no better at it than Rollo. It was around this time that her symptoms began. However psychogenic these pains, tics, hives and nauseas, her suffering was real. Acupuncturists came down by Zeppelin from Berlin, showing up in the middle of the night with little velvet cases full of gold needles. Viennese analysts, Indian holy men, Baptists from America trooped in and out of Sigmund’s castle, stage-hypnotists and Colombian curanderos slept on the rug in front of the fireplace. Nothing worked. Sigmund grew alarmed, and before long as ready as Margherita to hallucinate. Probably it was she who suggested Bad Karma. It had a reputation that summer for its mud, hot and greasy mud with traces of radium, jet black, softly bubbling. Ah. Anyone who’s been sick in that way can imagine her hope. That mud would cure anything. Where was anybody that summer before the War? Dreaming. The spas that summer, the summer Ensign Morituri came to Bad Karma, were crowded with sleepwalkers. Nothing for him to do at the Embassy. They suggested a holiday till September. He should have known something was up, but he only went on holiday to Bad Karma—spent the days drinking Pilsener Urquelle in the cafe by the lake in the Pavilion Park. He was a stranger, half the time drunk, silly beer-drunk, and he hardly spoke their language. But what he saw must have been going on all over Germany. A premeditated frenzy.
This is a similar process to what Slothrop goes through in the Abreaction Ward, when under sodium amytal ("truth serum") and the supervision of psychoanalysts, Slothrop explores the parts of his unconscious that he has repressed, including his feelings towards race and homosexuality.
PISCES: We want to talk some more about Boston today, Slothrop. You recall that we were talking last time about the Negroes, in Roxbury. Now we know it’s not all that comfortable for you, but do try, won’t you. Now—where are you, Slothrop? Can you see anything? Slothrop: Well no, not see exactly...
By the presence of Red (Malcolm X) in the scene where Slothrop flees the black men at the jazz club trying to rape him down the toilet (which leads through a trip not only through Slothrop's own unconscious racism but also through the repressed histories, all the Preterite lost and forgotten.
Either he lets the harp go, his silver chances of song, or he has to follow. Follow? Red, the Negro shoeshine boy, waits by his dusty leather seat. The Negroes all over wasted Roxbury wait. Follow? “Cherokee” comes wailing up from the dance floor below, over the hi-hat, the string bass, the thousand sets of feet where moving rose lights suggest not pale Harvard boys and their dates, but a lotta dolled-up redskins. The song playing is one more lie about white crimes. But more musicians have floundered in the channel to “Cherokee” than have got through from end to end.
Here, among other things, if we consider Slothrop's mouth harp a (Rilke-referencing) metaphor, in part, for Pynchon's own tools of artistry, I feel like these floundering musicians can be seen as other writers who have not come to terms with the darkest parts of history, and thus their own unconscious. And the decision to delve into these things as an artist necessitates exposing one's own unconscious repressions, which causes you to be in a vulnerable position - particularly since They like to use these aspects of people to control them, as with Prentice and the drawing of the Scorpia Mossmoon lookalike he is given to activate the Kryptosam. In Pynchon's case, this means exposing his own racism and homophobia:
If Slothrop follows that harp down the toilet it’ll have to be headfirst, which is not so good, cause it leaves his ass up in the air helpless, and with Negroes around that’s just what a fella doesn’t want, his face down in some fetid unknown darkness and brown fingers, strong and sure, all at once undoing his belt, unbuttoning his fly, strong hands holding his legs apart—and he feels the cold Lysol air on his thighs as down come the boxer shorts too, now, with the colorful bass lures and trout flies on them. He struggles to work himself farther into the toilet hole as dimly, up through the smelly water, comes the sound of a whole dark gang of awful Negroes come yelling happily into the white men’s room, converging on poor wriggling Slothrop, jiving around the way they do singing, “Slip the talcum to me, Malcolm!” [*] And the voice that replies is who but that Red, the shoeshine boy who’s slicked up Slothrop’s black patents a dozen times down on his knees jes poppin’ dat rag to beat the band... now Red the very tall, skinny, extravagantly conked redhead Negro shoeshine boy who’s just been “Red” to all the Harvard fellas—“Say Red, any of those Sheiks in the drawer?” “How ’bout another luck-changin’ phone number there, Red?”—this Negro whose true name now halfway down the toilet comes at last to Slothrop’s hearing—as a thick finger with a gob of very slippery jelly or cream comes sliding down the crack now toward his asshole, chevroning the hairs along like topo lines up a river valley—the true name is Malcolm, and all the black cocks know him, Malcolm, have known him all along—Red Malcolm the Unthinkable Nihilist sez, “Good golly he sure is all asshole ain’t he?” Jeepers Slothrop, what a position for you to be in! Even though he has succeeded in getting far enough down now so that only his legs protrude and his buttocks heave and wallow just under the level of the water like pallid domes of ice. Water splashes, cold as the rain outside, up the walls of the white bowl. “Grab him ’fo’ he gits away!” “Yowzah!” Distant hands clutch after his calves and ankles, snap his garters and tug at the argyle sox Mom knitted for him to go to Harvard in, but these insulate so well, or he has progressed so far down the toilet by now, that he can hardly feel the hands at all...
GR can be seen even as a process of abreaction that Pynchon underwent. If the rumours that he used drugs through writing it are true, then that would mean exposing things in him unconscious even to himself while writing it. Worth at this point also to note Jung's criticisms of Freud's use of abreaction, and thus the possible dangers of doing this.
Though traumata of clearly aetiological significance were occasionally present, the majority of them appeared very improbable. Many traumata were so unimportant, even so normal, that they could be regarded at most as a pretext for the neurosis. But what especially aroused my criticism was the fact that not a few traumata were simply inventions of fantasy and had never happened at all.
However, as Daoism asserts, light and darkness is in everything. For the Pavlovian Pointsman, who views things in binary, this is impossible to accept - the idea that for between every extreme - like black and white - lies a spectrum, a continuous rainbow. As Western humans understand things through this differentiation and analysis, this continuity causes an inherent conflict. Pointsman, the pure cause-and-effect man, the "Antimexico" (since Mexico, the statistician who thinks all can be explained through independent variables and probability distributions, takes the opposite position), says this on Daoist thinking early on.
“Pierre Janet —sometimes the man talked like an Oriental mystic. He had no real grasp of the opposites. ‘The act of injuring and the act of being injured are joined in the behavior of the whole injury.’ Speaker and spoken-of, master and slave, virgin and seducer, each pair most conveniently coupled and inseparable—The last refuge of the incorrigibly lazy, Mexico, is just this sort of yang-yin rubbish.
But by the end of Beyond the Zero, he's having a breakdown, as his unconscious is trying to tell him the truth of the Daoist wisdom he was so quick to reject in his scientific arrogance.
“Talking to myself, here. Little—sort of—eccentricity, heh, heh.” “Yang and Yin,” whispers the Voice, “Yang and Yin... .”
With all that out of the way, the plot of what GR is actually about can perhaps begin to be discussed. I'm going to make a lot of assumptions here that many of the male characters are based on Pynchon himself. You may disagree with this approach, which is very understandable, given my total lack of evidence. My justification for it is the following passages from Slothrop's trip down the toilet:
Here now is Crutchfield or Crouchfield, the westwardman. Not “archetypical” westwardman, but the only. Understand, there was only one. There was only one Indian who ever fought him. Only one fight, one victory, one loss. And only one president, and one assassin, and one election. True. One of each of everything. You had thought of solipsism, and imagined the structure to be populated—on your level—by only, terribly, one. No count on any other levels. But it proves to be not quite that lonely. Sparse, yes, but a good deal better than solitary. One of each of everything’s not so bad. Half an Ark’s better than none.
Then slightly later on:
Isn’t there supposed to be only one of each? A. Yes. Q. Then one Indian girl... A. One pure Indian. One mestiza. One criolla. [*] Then: one Yaqui. One Navaho. One Apache— Q. Wait a minute, there was only one Indian to begin with. The one that Crutchfield killed. A. Yes. Look on it as an optimization problem. The country can best support only one of each. Q. Then what about all the others? Boston. London. The ones who live in cities. Are those people real, or what? A. Some are real, and some aren’t. Q. Well are the real ones necessary? or unnecessary? A. It depends what you have in mind. Q. Shit, I don’t have anything in mind. A. We do.
However, given the extent to which Pynchon has managed to keep his life quiet, I'm aware that this assumption could be projection from me. I think might be by design of the book though:
“Pre cise-ly why,” leaps Rozsavolgyi, “we are now proposing, to give, Slothrop a com plete- ly dif-ferent sort, of test. We are now de sign- ing for him, a so called, ‘projec-tive’ test. The most famil-iar exam- ple of the type, is the Rorschach ink-blot. The ba- sic theory, is that when given an un struc-tured stimulus, some shape-less blob of exper-ience, the subject, will seek to impose, struc- ture on it. How, he goes a -bout struc-turing this blob, will reflect his needs, his hopes—will pro vide, us with clues, to his dreams, fan- tasies , the deepest re-gions of his mind.”
With those disclaimers out the way, here's what I think. I think Mexico is the "cheap nihilist" of Pynchon as a younger man, before he's delved into his own darkness, and still very much without belief in any sort of spiritualism:
“It makes no sense unless we also consider those who’ve passed over to the other side. We do transact with them, don’t we? Through specialists like Eventyr and their controls over there. But all together we form a single subculture, a psychical community, if you will.” “I won’t,” Mexico says dryly, “but yes I suppose someone ought to be looking into it.”
Pointsman is his analytical side, obsessed with cause-and-effect, which eventually, he comes to realise, necessitates delving in the darkest regions of Slothrop's mind, but still obsessed with control, never losing control:
Sign and symptoms. Was Spectro right? Could Outside and Inside be part of the same field? If only in fairness... in fairness... Pointsman ought to be seeking the answer at the interface... oughtn’t he... on the cortex of Lieutenant Slothrop. The man will suffer—perhaps, in some clinical way, be destroyed—but how many others tonight are suffering in his name? For pity’s sake, every day in Whitehall they’re weighing and taking risks that make his, in this, seem almost trivial. Almost. There’s something here, too transparent and swift to get a hold on—Psi Section might speak of ectoplasms—but he knows that the time has never been better, and that the exact experimental subject is in his hands. He must seize now, or be doomed to the same stone hallways, whose termination he knows. But he must remain open—even to the possibility that the Psi people are right. “We may all be right,” he puts in his journal tonight, “so may be all we have speculated, and more. Whatever we may find, there can be no doubt that he is, physiologically, historically, a monster. We must never lose control. The thought of him lost in the world of men, after the war, fills me with a deep dread I cannot extinguish...”
Prentice, the employee, the seasoned intelligence veteran, strikes me as a maturation from Pynchon's earlier Mexico phase, into a more realistic and experienced person and, by the time he gets into the Counterforce, "activist". This could be projection but given that the book was written from around the mid-60s until 1973, and how much changed in that time, I feel like this could be based on his own experiences with political activism in California around that time. Might be totally wrong about that, but I just got that impression from reading the weird "interview" towards the end of the book with the Wall Street Journal between the interviewer and the "spokesman for the Counterforce". Who knows, read it again and see what you think. And Slothrop, the experimental subject, is a model of Pynchon himself, rather than a differentiated portion of his own psyche which he turned into a character. So, what I think is going on: PISCES is using Slothrop (conditioned by Jamf) to exploit the racism of the Germans in psychological warfare with the whole Schwarzkommando thing. Pointsman is following his own pathological drive to analyse every facet of Slothrop's psyche. This includes Bloat taking photographs of Slothrop's map of girls linked to rockets, which we find out later might partly be falsified, which I interpret perhaps as Pynchon's recognition of his own attempt to impose his sexual interpretation system onto the world at large - interestingly something touched on early on in Bleeding Edge, though I can't find the passage right now, he quietly references the sexual hysterias of youth or something like that. Prentice is an employee of the Firm, a greater They than either PISCES or Pointsman, using his ability to have other people's fantasies, notionally for Pointsman, but really for some even grander scheme. This is reflected in the discussion of the message which Prentice picks up from the rocket which he and Slothrop see at the beginning of the book. From the Kryptosam message with the Scorpia lookalike:
Slowly then, a revelation through the nacreous film of his seed, in Negro-brown, comes his message: put in a simple Nihilist transposition whose keywords he can almost guess. Most of it he does in his head. There is a time given, a place, a request for help. He burns the message, fallen on him from higher than Earth’s atmosphere, salvaged from Earth’s prime meridian, keeps the picture, hmm, and washes his hands. His prostate is aching. There is more to this than he can see. He has no recourse, no appeal: he has to go over there and bring the operative out again. The message is tantamount to an order from the highest levels.
This "highest orders" thing can be compared with Slothrop seeing the hand of God pointing down at him.
There is in his history, and likely, God help him, in his dossier, a peculiar sensitivity to what is revealed in the sky. (But a hardon?) On the old schist of a tombstone in the Congregational churchyard back home in Mingeborough, Massachusetts, [*] the hand of God emerges from a cloud, the edges of the figure here and there eroded by 200 years of seasons’ fire and ice chisels at work, and the inscription reading: In Memory of Constant Slothrop, who died March ye 4th 1766, in ye 29th year of his age. Death is a debt to nature due, Which I have paid, and so must you.
...
6:43:16 BDST—in the sky right now here is the same unfolding, just about to break through, his face deepening with its light, everything about to rush away and he to lose himself, just as his countryside has ever proclaimed... slender church steeples poised up and down all these autumn hillsides, white rockets about to fire, only seconds of countdown away, rose windows taking in Sunday light, elevating and washing the faces above the pulpits defining grace, swearing this is how it does happen—yes the great bright hand reaching out of the cloud...
I think Pynchon recognised that with his unique abilities, perception, intelligence, and even privilege, it was his duty to delve into these hidden histories and play his role in bringing about this integration of the darkest levels of the unconscious. But Beyond the Zero is all about systems, and as Pynchon is well aware all systems are inherently limited because there are irrational elements in the world. So after this we have the briefer section in the Casino Hermann Goering, where the role of chance - or fate, depending on your interpretation - is recognised, and systems are examined, particularly language systems, like the drinking game Prince. So after that, with the third part, In the Zone, I think he may have been using drugs and various other techniques to bring out unconscious things in himself, to get past these conscious systems. And then completed with the Tarot reading performed at the end, where it says "here are the cards, exactly as they came up" - I think it's very possible that he did an actual Tarot reading at this point. Maybe I'm wrong about this though, I don't want to make too many assumptions given the lack of information we really have on him. If that thing with the drugs is true, it would explain that infamous quote Jules Seigal attributed to him, "I was so fucked up while I was writing it... that now I go back over some of those sequences and I can't figure out what I could have meant." But it's unclear whether that quote is real or not. How does this play into politics? I've written far too much already, but I'll just leave things with a couple more quotes and the observation that the final part, the Counterforce, contains some very valid criticisms of the countercultural movement as it manifested in the 60s through 70s. There's this critical passage when Enzian is motorbiking around the Zone, high on Pervitins, and realises that everything has come together for this. There's definitely a sense that Pynchon is acknowledging here the importance of his work, the fact it has done things that no other book had before. But in it too there's also, in it, the mocking of the temptation to view everything as an ordered conspiracy, and not acknowledge the non-rational and non-causal forces also at work, and mocking of his own self-seriousness.
There doesn’t exactly dawn, no but there breaks, as that light you’re afraid will break some night at too deep an hour to explain away—there floods on Enzian what seems to him an extraordinary understanding. This serpentine slagheap he is just about to ride into now, this ex-refinery, Jamf Ölfabriken Werke AG, is not a ruin at all. It is in perfect working order. Only waiting for the right connections to be set up, to be switched on... modified, precisely, deliberately by bombing that was never hostile, but part of a plan both sides—”sides?” —had always agreed on... yes and now what if we—all right, say we are supposed to be the Kabbalists out here, say that’s our real Destiny, to be the scholar-magicians of the Zone, with somewhere in it a Text, to be picked to pieces, annotated, explicated, and masturbated till it’s all squeezed limp of its last drop... well we assumed—natürlich!—that this holy Text had to be the Rocket, orururumo orunene the high, rising, dead, the blazing, the great one (“orunene” is already being modified by the Zone-Herero children to “omunene,” the eldest brother)... our Torah. What else? Its symmetries, its latencies, the cuteness of it enchanted and seduced us while the real Text persisted, somewhere else, in its darkness, our darkness... even this far from Südwest we are not to be spared the ancient tragedy of lost messages, a curse that will never leave us... . But, if I’m riding through it, the Real Text, right now, if this is it... or if I passed it today somewhere in the devastation of Hamburg, breathing the ashdust, missing it completely... if what the IG built on this site were not at all the final shape of it, but only an arrangement of fetishes, come-ons to call down special tools in the form of 8th AF bombers yes the “Allied” planes all would have been, ultimately, IG-built, by way of Director Krupp, through his English interlocks—the bombing was the exact industrial process of conversion, each release of energy placed exactly in space and time, each shock-wave plotted in advance to bring precisely tonight’s wreck into being thus decoding the Text, thus coding, recoding, redecoding the holy Text... If it is in working order, what is it meant to do? The engineers who built it as a refinery never knew there were any further steps to be taken. Their design was “finalized,” and they could forget it. It means this War was never political at all, the politics was all theatre, all just to keep the people distracted... secretly, it was being dictated instead by the needs of technology... by a conspiracy between human beings and techniques, by something that needed the energy-burst of war, crying, “Money be damned, the very life of [insert name of Nation] is at stake,” but meaning, most likely, dawn is nearly here, I need my night’s blood, my funding, funding, ahh more, more... . The real crises were crises of allocation and priority, not among firms—it was only staged to look that way—but among the different Technologies, Plastics, Electronics, Aircraft, and their needs which are understood only by the ruling elite... Yes but Technology only responds (how often this argument has been iterated, dogged and humorless as a Gaussian reduction, among the younger Schwarzkommando especially), “All very well to talk about having a monster by the tail, but do you think we’d’ve had the Rocket if someone, some specific somebody with a name and a penis hadn’t wanted to chuck a ton of Amatol 300 miles and blow up a block full of civilians? Go ahead, capitalize the T on technology, deify it if it’ll make you feel less responsible—but it puts you in with the neutered, brother, in with the eunuchs keeping the harem of our stolen Earth for the numb and joyless hardens of human sultans, human elite with no right at all to be where they are—” We have to look for power sources here, and distribution networks we were never taught, routes of power our teachers never imagined, or were encouraged to avoid... we have to find meters whose scales are unknown in the world, draw our own schematics, getting feedback, making connections, reducing the error, trying to learn the real function... zeroing in on what incalculable plot? Up here, on the surface, coaltars, hydrogenation, synthesis were always phony, dummy functions to hide the real, the planetary mission yes perhaps centuries in the unrolling... this ruinous plant, waiting for its Kabbalists and new alchemists to discover the Key, teach the mysteries to others... And if it isn’t exactly Jamf Ölfabriken Werke? what if it’s the Krupp works in Essen, what if it’s Blohm & Voss right here in Hamburg or another make-believe “ruin,” in another city? Another country? YAAAGGGGHHHHH! Well, this is stimulant talk here, yes Enzian’s been stuffing down Nazi surplus Pervitins these days like popcorn at the movies, and by now the bulk of the refinery—named, incidentally, for the famous discoverer of Oneirine—is behind them, and Enzian is on into some other paranoid terror, talking, talking, though each man’s wind and motor cuts him off from conversation.
Some words of wisdom from the seasoned veteran Prentice:
“You’re a novice paranoid, Roger,” first time Prentice has ever used his Christian name and it touches Roger enough to check his tirade. “Of course a well-developed They-system is necessary—but it’s only half the story. For every They there ought to be a We. In our case there is. Creative paranoia means developing at least as thorough a We-system as a They-system—” “Wait, wait, first where’s the Haig and Haig, be a gracious host, second what is a ‘They-system,’ I don’t pull Chebychev’s Theorem on you, do I?” “I mean what They and Their hired psychiatrists call ‘delusional systems.’ Needless to say, ‘delusions’ are always officially defined. We don’t have to worry about questions of real or unreal. They only talk out of expediency. It’s the system that matters. How the data arrange themselves inside it. Some are consistent, others fall apart. Your idea that Pointsman sent Gloaming takes a wrong fork. Without any contrary set of delusions—delusions about ourselves, which I’m calling a We-system—the Gloaming idea might have been all right—” “Delusions about ourselves?” “Not real ones.” “But officially defined.” “Out of expediency, yes.” “Well, you’re playing Their game, then.” “Don’t let it bother you. You’ll find you can operate quite well. Seeing as we haven’t won yet, it isn’t really much of a problem.” Roger is totally confused.
And finally, amid all this darkness, in a superlatively dark book, some hope at last, to hold onto, that makes life worth living, and why I think that despite what many say, GR is not a nihilistic work at all (Tchitcherine, the born nihilist, is almost a parody of this position). It starts with Slothrop's awakening to nature:
Trees, now—Slothrop’s intensely alert to trees, finally. When he comes in among trees he will spend time touching them, studying them, sitting very quietly near them and understanding that each tree is a creature, carrying on its individual life, aware of what’s happening around it, not just some hunk of wood to be cut down. Slothrop’s family actually made its money killing trees, amputating them from their roots, chopping them up, grinding them to pulp, bleaching that to paper and getting paid for this with more paper. “That’s really insane.” He shakes his head. “There’s insanity in my family.” He looks up. The trees are still. They know he’s there. They probably also know what he’s thinking. “I’m sorry,” he tells them. “I can’t do anything about those people, they’re all out of my reach. What can I do?” A medium-size pine nearby nods its top and suggests, “Next time you come across a logging operation out here, find one of their tractors that isn’t being guarded, and take its oil filter with you. That’s what you can do.”
And then, after Slothrop's harp makes its trip down the toilet, and through all of the darkness of the book until that point, where does it next show up? After he draws a rocket mandala, scrawls Rocketman was here on a wall, after the sequence with the Magician using black magic and a mandrake to multiply money, and a delegate from the Committee on Idiopathic Archetypes shows up to visit:
Crosses, swastikas, Zone-mandalas, how can they not speak to Slothrop? He’s sat in Säure Bummer’s kitchen, the air streaming with kif moires, reading soup recipes and finding in every bone and cabbage leaf paraphrases of himself... news flashes, names of wheelhorses that will pay him off enough for a certain getaway... . He used to pick and shovel at the spring roads of Berkshire, April afternoons he’s lost, “Chapter 81 work,” they called it, following the scraper that clears the winter’s crystal attack-from-within, its white necropolizing... picking up rusted beer cans, rubbers yellow with preterite seed, Kleenex wadded to brain shapes hiding preterite snot, preterite tears, newspapers, broken glass, pieces of automobile, days when in superstition and fright he could make it all fit, seeing clearly in each an entry in a record, a history: his own, his winter’s, his country’s... instructing him, dunce and drifter, in ways deeper than he can explain, have been faces of children out the train windows, two bars of dance music somewhere, in some other street at night, needles and branches of a pine tree shaken clear and luminous against night clouds, one circuit diagram out of hundreds in a smudged yellowing sheaf, laughter out of a cornfield in the early morning as he was walking to school, the idling of a motorcycle at one duskheavy hour of the summer... and now, in the Zone, later in the day he became a crossroad, after a heavy rain he doesn’t recall, Slothrop sees a very thick rainbow here, a stout rainbow cock driven down out of pubic clouds into Earth, green wet valleyed Earth, and his chest fills and he stands crying, not a thing in his head, just feeling natural...
And later:
Slothrop moseys down the trail to a mountain stream where he’s left his harp to soak all night, wedged between a couple of rocks in a quiet pool. ... Through the flowing water, the holes of the old Hohner Slothrop found are warped one by one, squares being bent like notes, a visual blues being played by the clear stream. There are harpmen and dulcimer players in all the rivers, wherever water moves. Like that Rilke prophesied, And though Earthliness forget you, To the stilled Earth say: I flow. To the rushing water speak: I am. It is still possible, even this far out of it, to find and make audible the spirits of lost harpmen. Whacking the water out of his harmonica, reeds singing against his leg, picking up the single blues at bar 1 of this morning’s segment, Slothrop, just suckin’ on his harp, is closer to being a spiritual medium than he’s been yet, and he doesn’t even know it.
There's hope after all, and I think it's reflected in how much more positive all his later works have been. Thanks so much for reading, I hope it was at least vaguely interesting, not too much of an unstructured ramble. Also, this is such a great subreddit, really I love the community here. My very best to you all!
Trip log: Yesterday's mini solo adventure (US), my Hard Rock pin collection, and Pokemon Go
A few weeks ago I received an alert that the Indianapolis Hard Rock Cafe would be closing soon. I've been meaning to travel there for a while and for the sake of getting my pin, but now I was on notice. Last year I received similar notices about the Lake Tahoe cafe (the hotel replaced the cafe) and the St. Louis cafe last year, so I'm somewhat familiar with planning these trips with some haste. Checking my unused Southwest travel funds and my schedule, I decided to create a day trip which involved hitting not only the Indianapolis location, but also possibly grabbing a pin from the Tampa Bay airport's Cafe as well. So, here was my Saturday: Flight 1: DCA-MDW (DC to Chicago, departing at 6:15 AM) Flight 2: MDW-IND (Chicago to Indianapolis, departing at 8:30 AM) Flight 3: IND-TPA (Indianapolis to Tampa, departing at 4:40 PM) Flight 4: TPA-DCA (Tampa to Washington, departing at 7:50 PM) I was concerned beforehand that this was silly and become too stressful. But I'm so glad I did this - for better or for worse, it went better than anticipated and has inspired me to try similar challenges in the US. Maybe it was a crazy plan, but maybe I'm the right type of crazy to try it. Some background: I collect Hard Rock Cafe guitar pins from locations around the world. Pins are great souvenirs - they are easy to pack, typically cost $10-15 (unless a Cafe is closing, then it's cheaper), and take up far less space in my home compared to a shirt collection or the like. I've been doing this for a bit over 20 years, collecting roughly pins from roughly 50 properties. I have a few rules:
I have to collect the pins at the locations in person. No eBay, no favors from friends during their travels (though a number of people have wanted me to bend this rule);
The pin has to be as unique and indicative of the pin's city as possible.
Just one guitar pin per location. Don't try to clean out the inventory - choose the best one.
The night before My flight would be leaving early out of DCA, so I decided to have a quiet evening at home and to shower before going to bed. While I typically shower first thing in the morning, I learned to shower at night through stressful weeks at work: Showering relaxes me, and helps me fall asleep far faster. Typically I don't have an issue falling asleep on a normal night, but this wasn't a normal night. The shower did its job, and I fell asleep around 8:30 PM. I packed my day bag: Wallet, extra external battery for my devices, iPad mini with games/books/crosswords/music loaded, plug-in charger, Clif bars (bought before my trip so I wasn't paying airport prices for snacks), headphones. Flight 1: DCA-MDW I was questioning my sanity before this leg. My body decided to wake up around 3:15, well ahead of the 4:00 alarm. GREAT. I had slept *enough* to not be a complete mess, so I got ready and eventually called a Lyft to take me to the airport (I had debated driving, but parking for the day would have been more expensive than rides to and from the airport). My Lyft driver arrived just after 5:00 AM, and boy was he a pro - he had a full, backlit snack bar selection in the car along with an iPad set up for trivia games. He immediately noticed my lack of luggage and asked "So...do you....work at the airport....or....?" I laughed, realizing I was going to explain this crazy trip to someone. So I began explaining my collection and how my day would play out, and he laughed. "Boy, you're one of a kind." He's never heard of solotravel now HAS he? We arrived at Terminal A, which is the original terminal at Reagan National Airport. I arrived roughly 30 minutes before boarding, and I was surprised at how many people (high school students in particular) were already at the airport. WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE AND WHY DON'T YOU SLEEP. Thankfully I have TSA pre-check, so it took me maybe five minutes to get through security. So many teenagers. I'm not Clint Eastwood "get off my lawn" old, but I'm getting closer to 40 and farther from my high school years. I'm a morning person, but not perfectly awake at 5:00 AM among the general population. Perhaps the kids were enjoying the cheaper airfare - just like I was! - but goddamn how are they SO excited that early? Thankfully I didn't have to endure this for terribly long, and my flight to Chicago was basically a giant adult nursery. Sweet dreams.... Flight 2: MDW-IND We arrived to Midway about 15 minutes early, which gave me some extra time to grab breakfast at the airport and find my next gate. For as tight as the connections felt today, I appreciated any extra padding in my schedule. Because I'm a Pokemon Go player, I fired up the app and began searching for Mons while I walked. What luck! I managed to complete the weekly research quest, and for the first time I had Regirock appear for the Research Breakthrough. I love collecting Pokemon during my travels so they reflect the locations in their profiles, so my Regirock is from Chicago. I also managed to win a Mawile raid with an anonymous partner (thank you, whoever you are), so I have that guy as well. I keep forgetting Midway isn't O'Hare in terms of food options. I appreciate any opportunity I can get to have Tortas Frontera at O'Hare, but I'm not sure why my brain tortured itself by not remembering YOU'RE GOING TO MIDWAY. That said, the cup of coffee I got from True Burger Co. was better than I expected and exactly what I needed. It was time to board my flight once I was finished with my breakfast, and basically I blinked and I was in Indy. We had to take a moment to de-ice the plane before departing, but the flight was maybe 30 minutes long. Indianapolis Because I prefer to take the cheapest options possible AND I had time, I wanted to take the IndyGo public bus from the airport to downtown. Here were my options:
Public bus: $1.75
Private downtown shuttle: $12
UbeLyft: $15
Taxi: ~$20
Limo service (yes this was available): No. We're not even considering this.
My problem was there was no machine or kiosk where I could buy bus fare, and the bus would require exact change. I asked someone in Ground Transportation if there was anything available where I could purchase a ticket, and I was pointed to....the $12 private downtown shuttle. No. I want the bus. I walked back into the main terminal and found a general information desk, and I asked them if there might be some way to get on the bus. What angels - they were able to make change for me (I had $2) so I could run down to the bus stop and hop on board. No $12 shuttle for me! The bus took about 40 minutes, stopping along the way and letting me see more of Indiana than I would have seen from the highway. We stopped roughly one block away from the Hard Rock Cafe, so I jumped off the bus and made my way to the restaurant. Since the property is closing in a few weeks, all of their merch was 75% off. Sales like this tempt me into purchasing more, but no, I don't have time for that. I'd have a million shirts and mugs. Unfortunately, and somewhat expected, the pin selection was just okay. I managed to find a pin with an Indy 500 checked flag on it, so I selected that pin. I somewhat broke my rule by purchasing a second pin (not a guitar pin, but reflected the checkered flags in a cool way), but together the pins were just over six bucks. Still cheaper than one pin at a "normal" cafe that isn't closing. One strange thing about my collection: For as much as I adore collecting pins from these properties around the world, I've had a meal at a Hard Rock Cafe....once? It was in the Caribbean almost a decade ago. I don't go for the food, and usually I'm trying to find a place in a city for my meals that is special. Knowing nothing about Indianapolis, I reached out to my friends for some advice. One friend recommended (fairly emphatically) to try Milktooth in Fountain Square. It was less than a mile from the Cafe, didn't seem to have horrific wait times, and not horribly priced. Off I went... ...and GODDAMN, am I glad I went. This place is hipster-tastic and slightly more luxurious/pricey than I allow myself while traveling, but I would fly back just for the sake of having this meal ago. My wait was maybe five minutes and I sat at the bar. After going over the menu with the server, I went with some items he recommended:
Entree: Sourdough Pearl Sugar Waffle (burnt honeycomb candy, parmesan, whipped citrus honey butter, raw honey) ($12)
This dish was both salty and sweet, and I was wondering initially "Do I love this or HATE IT?" Mostly, I hated it because it wasn't my typical bland waffle with bland syrup and bland butter. But this breakfast challenged my apparent blandness, and slapped the back of my head. It was fantastic. Probably favorite waffle...ever? Getting my pin made yesterday a "win," but this brunch was such an unexpected surprise. Lesson reaffirmed: Trust your friends and their recommendations. I finished my meal around 1:30 and figured I should make my way back to the airport. I was no longer near the airport bus route and I decided to take a Lyft. My driver arrived, and I had a great time chatting with him about his experiences with customers. Note: Don't eat in his car, and if you do, clean up after yourself you animals. Back at the airport I settled in at a charging station (Pokemon really sucks my battery dry) and figured I'd get comfortable while I waited for my for Tampa. Just as I got everything set up....GASP - SURPRISE! A friend of mine from school, someone who I had not seen in over a decade, had commented on a post I made on Facebook when I arrived in Indianapolis. He was ten gates away! I posted where I was seated, and almost immediately he replied that he was coming to find me. WHAT! He happened to be passing through the Indy airport, making his way home after attending a conference. What incredible luck. So I gave him a huge hug and we talked for about 20 minutes before he had to run back to his gate for his flight. This was unreal. As much as I love getting my pins and taking on these mini adventures, THIS moment really made my day. Flight 3: IND-TPA As I told my friend, I was waiting for my flight to Tampa where I had a chance to get a second pin at the airport. The cafe didn't exist the last time I visited Tampa, though I had visited the Hard Rock casino just outside the city. If my flight arrived on schedule, I had a faint possibility of getting the second pin during the 30 minute layover. I was in the C Terminal and the cafe is located in the main terminal. Luck was on my side, and my flight arrived 20 minutes early. Thankfully the Tampa airport isn't enormous and seemed particularly sleepy when I arrived, and the cafe happened to be located beside the doorway between the airport shuttle station and the main terminal. In and out in five minutes. This pin was about $11, which felt so expensive compared to the bargain from the Indy location, but whatever. Pokemon collection was extremely underwhelming at the Tampa airport. Very few gyms and stops available. Not that I had tons of time, but give me a regional Mon right? Flight 4: TPA-DCA I experienced some turbulence during my flight back to DC, which was the only turbulence I really had on any of the flights that day. My energy levels were getting really low at this point - can't imagine why - and I was ready to find my bed back home. The flight was just under two hours. As opposed to the high school I seemingly entered earlier that morning to board my flight to Chicago, Terminal A was a ghost town when we arrived in DC. Aside from those on our flight or attending to our gate, I didn't see any other passengers at the gates in the terminal. It was a strange, peaceful way to reenter my neighborhood after such a fun day. Again, I indulged myself and got a Lyft (hey, I got a discount recently on some rides, don't hate). This driver also noticed my lack of luggage, which prompted him to ask why I was getting a ride from the airport, so I explained my whole day to him. He got a huge kick out of it, accusing me of being a special agent traveling to four cities in a day on a secret mission. That's right, sir (and here we go, TLDR folks) - my mission was to collect one, maybe two enamel pins from a novelty restaurant chain, and I accomplished the hell of that mission. I managed to run into an old friend along the way, tried some insanely delicious food, and got some great Mons during my trip. I saw four states in one day in two timezones. I wasn't able to fall asleep immediately when I got home, mostly because I was still feeling the adrenaline of running from city to city to accomplish my goal. My pins have found their way to my pin collection case, sitting among the pins from Reykjavik and Sydney and Hong Kong and Rome. All of my pins have stories, but I love that I can now talk about my trip to Indianapolis and Tampa in the same day. (Holy shit, this post was longer than I anticipated. I hope you enjoyed it. I thoroughly enjoyed experiencing it.)
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