Two days till Thanksgiving, and this entourage of minstrels awaits in Moscow ID for the revival of our RV's braking system.
We played a show last night at a sweet little venue called The Attic, hosted by the Palouse Folklore Society. Aptly named, the venue is located in the attic of an old house on 2nd street, walking distance from the quaint, vibrant little downtown.
When I first came up the stairs, I noticed a metal object perched at the edge of the back deck, and asked David, our host, whether it was what it looked like- a gallows. He chuckled, and said, "it could be," and went on to explain that it had been used back in the day to pull the roof beams into place. Inside, there was more space than I'd anticipated: the ceiling was tall enough for Ry, our sound-man extraordinaire, to stand unencumbered at 6 feet tall with room to spare. Hot water and a giant box of tea sat at the back hall, and a rather optimistic several rows of chairs were placed facing the improvised stage. Optimistic, because it was a Monday night on the week of Thanksgiving. David had managed to drum up a sweet crowd however, and over the course of the night, 10-15 people showed up to make it an intimate and cozy show. At the intermission, one elderly lady with short white hair and a mischievous glimmer in her eyes approached Erin to examine her tattoos, touching Erin's arm with her index finger and asking her to explain them, and once Erin had explained, the little lady reached out for Erin's shirt asking if there were more. We were cracking up, and Erin hastily said, "Nope! That's it!"
"Do you have any tattoos?" I asked her.
"I don't know," she replied, then called out to her husband, "do I have any tattoos?"
"I haven't found 'em!" He called back.
The elderly mischief maker met my eye with an innocent grin, said, "then I guess not," and made her way back to her seat beside her husband.
Like many house concerts, we had only set up vocal mics, and a mic for Kenneth's tabla drums.
All over the walls, posters from previous shows were thumb-tacked to the walls, mostly 8.5x11 printed by the Palouse Folklore Society in black and white.
Prior to the show, we walked down to the Moscow Food Coop, which served up a delectable hot foods bar at dependably high prices. I was so excited to be in a coop for the first time since the start of tour- I promptly spent nearly a third of my weekly stipend on toiletries, food, and a $6 glass jar of local, raw milk yogurt.
The RV has been having brake problems basically since Erin and Ry first purchased it, and this tour they've already had to deal with it twice before today. So we're in Moscow, hanging out the the public library and taking a much-needed day off to be in one location, and I'm finally catching up with some items of business that I have needed to take care of. Tomorrow, we'll be in Seattle, and we'll spend Thanksgiving there, staying with our friends and family members. I unfortunately lost my passport a while back, and tomorrow I will pick up a new one prior to crossing into Canada on Saturday. We are playing shows north of Vancouver and in Victoria Sunday and Monday. Erin and Ry are really excited about the proposition of golden eagles, and the botanical gardens on Vancouver Island. I'm looking forward to riding a ferry again. The last major ferry ride I took was when I was 18, from Ireland to Wales. We will have our RV with us, called the BORF (short for Born Free), on the ferry.
Wishing you all a very happy day of Thanks, a tryptophan-induced coma along with your potatoes, and live music all around.