March 26th, 2004.

Expect typos, I’ve grown far too used to my own computer, and typing on any other machine is pretty alien to me. My pricey, custom-built Alienware 51m has failed me after only 7 months of use. A pretty complete death – by the time I was packing it off to Florida, it wasn’t even powering up. I was ready to cry.

Anywho, for those of you out there who are emailing me and suchnot and whatnot, that’s why I might be a bit slow about responding. I almost lost everything on my harddrive – luckily for me, my friends Allie and James – they had the POWER!!!

James got obsessed with my problem, and though it took him hours and hours of working and wiring and rewiring and a little bit of hacking – he finally got into my harddrive and got most of my data and saved it to DVD. Unfortunately, I have lost all of my email contacts and the emails themselves. It’s a frustration. I had a lot of old email from old girlfriends, not to mention Tyler’s old letters from when we were really flirty (back when I thought he was that cute little blonde).

A very, very sick PC. Last Sunday, after the PLOJ - I came home to my computer going slightly insane - switching resolutions randomly, and eventually just freezing up and refusing to restart. I spent some time with Alienware tech support - and there's something really awesome about Alienware tech support vs most computer tech support... you call Dell, and they assume you may have forgotten to plug the computer in, or that perhaps you don't know how to turn it on. Alienware, on the other hand, assumes that you have a phillip's head screwdriver and that you're ready to yank parts out of your computer. — A very, very sick PC. Last Sunday, after the PLOJ – I came home to my computer going slightly insane – switching resolutions randomly, and eventually just freezing up and refusing to restart. I spent some time with Alienware tech support – and there’s something really awesome about Alienware tech support vs most computer tech support… you call Dell, and they assume you may have forgotten to plug the computer in, or that perhaps you don’t know how to turn it on. Alienware, on the other hand, assumes that you have a phillip’s head screwdriver and that you’re ready to yank parts out of your computer.

I swapped RAM, I pulled my harddrive, I looked at a melted part of my motherboard. It was determined that a stick of RAM, my powersource, my display cardie thingie had all gone bad, as well as a corrupted user profile, and some other random disasterous stuff. I was pretty fucking pissed.

So, today it’s a long day of catching up, and trying to get Heather’s laptop to fill in the gap left by my machine’s unfortunate demise. In the background, the SciFi channel is running a classic Star Trek marathon, and based on their commercials, they seem to think that their viewership demographic is comprised mostly of women suffering from “feminine itch” as well as menopause… oh, and people looking for arthritis and denture creams.

The infamous Jayson Blair showed up at the door and took a poke at it. Within moments he had my screws scattered over the coffeetable. He did this wonderful laying on of hands - the computer came alive momentarily... but then it died. — The infamous Jayson Blair showed up at the door and took a poke at it. Within moments he had my screws scattered over the coffeetable. He did this wonderful laying on of hands – the computer came alive momentarily… but then it died.

That just doesn’t seem right.

Sigh, in the meantime – Captain Kirk’s body has been taken over by a chick. Most unfortunate.

I swear, when Heather wanders off to the next room, she misses the best stuff.

PLOJ XXVII.

The beautiful Allie - a friend from the old Year of the Rabbit. I'm so glad she managed to come out - her voice was spectacular, and hung over the whole night like a disembodied spirit. — The beautiful Allie – a friend from the old Year of the Rabbit. I’m so glad she managed to come out – her voice was spectacular, and hung over the whole night like a disembodied spirit.

We've got some catching up to do in regards to pictures, so let us travel back in time to last Saturday's PLOJ. The Pot Luck Open Jam, at College Perk, got into full swing by 8pm or so with about 50 musicians and listeners over the course of the night. There were two PLOJ firsts over the course of the evening. This was shot during the first part of the first of these firsts. For the first time during a PLOJ - a song was repeated. "No Woman No Cry" showed up three times over the course of the night. — We’ve got some catching up to do in regards to pictures, so let us travel back in time to last Saturday’s PLOJ. The Pot Luck Open Jam, at College Perk, got into full swing by 8pm or so with about 50 musicians and listeners over the course of the night. There were two PLOJ firsts over the course of the evening. This was shot during the first part of the first of these firsts. For the first time during a PLOJ – a song was repeated. “No Woman No Cry” showed up three times over the course of the night.

My old partner, Audrey - she rarely makes it out to a PLOJ, but she came out last Saturday and performed her new song. People say I was tearing up. That's a lie. — My old partner, Audrey – she rarely makes it out to a PLOJ, but she came out last Saturday and performed her new song. People say I was tearing up. That’s a lie.

Chelsea and Beau were our guests for the weekend. We played a fantastic show at the New Deal Cafe - and we were so glad to give them a good night. They sold more CDs in that one night than they had in the past history of their CDs existance. Then they sold a couple more at PLOJ. It at LEAST paid for their train tickets. — Chelsea and Beau were our guests for the weekend. We played a fantastic show at the New Deal Cafe – and we were so glad to give them a good night. They sold more CDs in that one night than they had in the past history of their CDs existance. Then they sold a couple more at PLOJ. It at LEAST paid for their train tickets. Beau had been sick recently, and was really tired throughout the PLOJ – I sort of felt really bad for keeping him up late. But eventually he and Chelsea were rejuvenated by the Power of Song!!!
Or something.

[I can't go through these old photos and NOT post pics where my Dad seems to be having a good time - rob 12/26/17] — [I can’t go through these old photos and NOT post pics where my Dad seems to be having a good time – rob 12/26/17]

Brennan was having a very, very strange night. This was just a momentary evil face. I really, really think that he’s not as frightening as this photograph might, at first, suggest. It was really just gas. I’m assured of this fact.

Since moving to the College Perk, Brennan has gotten the added stress of being a half-a-PLOJ host, and frankly I’ve allowed MOST of the PLOJ hosting stresses slip to his shoulders. Actually, maybe THAT’s what that face is about.

Heather set up shop in the back of the Perk and ended up restoring a bunch of Heron's wraps... — Heather set up shop in the back of the Perk and ended up restoring a bunch of Heron’s wraps…

A well-packed house. I'm Loving the PLOJes at College Perk. It really is a perfect space - I mean, I guess it could be a little bit larger, but the place has exactly the right spirit. The woman sitting on the couch in the background, talking on her cellphone - we ran across her again just last night at the New Deal Cafe for a SAW event - and I think she was someone who just sort of showed up at Perk and stumbled into the whole thing by mistake. There were a couple of people who hadn't known anything was going on that night - much less anything the scale of PLOJ - they wandered the night, looking bewildered and slightly stunned. Like they'd been hit by a large, musical trout - something the PLOJ is frequently compared to. Also in the background: on the far left, mostly in shadow, you can see Charles, Chelsea's Dad (who came up with his exquisite acoustic Takoma bass) and you have the curly-headed blonde host from the BSA Open Mic at Kiss Cafe (I can't remember her name off the top of my head), as well as Tim from Might Could. College Park is such a central location, we really get all the people that I'd always wanted to get out to Manassas, or Edgewater. It really is the perfect spot. — A well-packed house. I’m Loving the PLOJes at College Perk. It really is a perfect space – I mean, I guess it could be a little bit larger, but the place has exactly the right spirit. The woman sitting on the couch in the background, talking on her cellphone – we ran across her again just last night at the New Deal Cafe for a SAW event – and I think she was someone who just sort of showed up at Perk and stumbled into the whole thing by mistake. There were a couple of people who hadn’t known anything was going on that night – much less anything the scale of PLOJ – they wandered the night, looking bewildered and slightly stunned. Like they’d been hit by a large, musical trout – something the PLOJ is frequently compared to.
Also in the background: on the far left, mostly in shadow, you can see Charles, Chelsea’s Dad (who came up with his exquisite acoustic Takoma bass) and you have the curly-headed blonde host from the BSA Open Mic at Kiss Cafe (I can’t remember her name off the top of my head), as well as Tim from Might Could. College Park is such a central location, we really get all the people that I’d always wanted to get out to Manassas, or Edgewater. It really is the perfect spot.

The PLOJes have always been such fantastic gatherings. We’ve been running them for about five or six years now. We started on New Year’s Day back in 1999 – I was Living with Syl and Sara Smith and working as a freelance illustrator, doing a lot of random work for different telecommunications companies in Northern Virginia. I had just quit teaching high-school, and was really interested in finally persuing my Life as an artist.

Whatever type of artist I was going to be – visual or musical.

Syl had been the guy who had really inspired me towards music – before I was just a bass-player – but Syl inspired me to sing – mostly to impress him. I sort of feel weird, realizing that I started singing in high-school – but then became a bassplayer because I Loved being on stage so much… I learned to play guitar in order to impress Audrey – and then I really focused on being a singer/songwriter because of how much I admired Syl. Is anything I do self-motivated? Psh… don’t matter. I Love it anywho.

Another photograph showing the depth o PLOJ. The woman right in the centre never ended up singing, though she asked if she could - maybe she'll up her gumption next time. There was a fantastic number of newbies last Saturday. A dangerous number. — Another photograph showing the depth o PLOJ. The woman right in the centre never ended up singing, though she asked if she could – maybe she’ll up her gumption next time. There was a fantastic number of newbies last Saturday. A dangerous number.

Ew. PLOJ babies. I was chased by the youngling. His vomitous mouth pointed at my direction - a threat to my very cleanliness. — Ew. PLOJ babies. I was chased by the youngling. His vomitous mouth pointed at my direction – a threat to my very cleanliness.

Syl Smith and Waverly Milor. I had given up on inviting Syl places, because he's usually so busy working. Hipocrisy, I know - I mean, if people gave up on inviting me places just because I'm so busy all the time - I'd cry. A lot. Anywho, I'm not sure who passed it along, it was probably Wave - but I'm crazy-grateful. — Syl Smith and Waverly Milor. I had given up on inviting Syl places, because he’s usually so busy working. Hypocrisy, I know – I mean, if people gave up on inviting me places just because I’m so busy all the time – I’d cry. A lot. Anywho, I’m not sure who passed it along, it was probably Wave – but I’m crazy-grateful.

A second PLOJ first - trumpet. There was this moment when it came sailing in, sweet and pure over the rest of the room - during Heather's rendition of "Your Eyes", I think. That's Rick (Audrey's husband) with the bazouki. — A second PLOJ first – trumpet. There was this moment when it came sailing in, sweet and pure over the rest of the room – during Heather’s rendition of “Your Eyes”, I think. That’s Rick (Audrey’s husband) with the bazouki.

Heron and Jennie [years later Jennie is doing raptor rescue in New Mexico and we get to stay with her and get dangerously close to being vomited on by giant birds]

Zoe Mulford at PLOJ XXVII - March 20th, 2004. — Zoe Mulford at PLOJ XXVII – March 20th, 2004.

Off to Philadelphia and then Stroudsburg, PA…
Tuesday night we continued our wanderings, and returned ourselves to the fine city of Brotherly Love. Shane welcomed us to Philadelphia, PA – where we played the Point before going back to the dorms of Drexel University.

The Point was bloody nightmarish. This was the place we went the first night of our Trip – and we’d been blown away by the talent and the overall feel of the place. Since then, we keep going back with fiercely high hopes – and keep getting disappointed. It was one of the most horrific nights … oh God. It was agony to sit through. I stood in the back lamenting with the host… wincing.

There were a couple of cool acts (we even ran into some friends that we’d met in Red Bank, NJ – Tommy Anton and I traded tour thoughts), but mostly it was just one of those nights that would never, ever end.

We crashed with Shane, and we played Halo. I didn’t die as much as I did last time, but there was no Slutty Tofu, either.

Wednesday we drove North up to East Stroudsburg University. Mapping it out, we realized that ESU was like… five miles away from the Deleware Water Gap.

There’s no reason to know of the Delaware Water Gap… of Minsi and Tamanee… calling me… except for an amazing Richard Shindell song – and Heather said that we had to go there, since we had the time. I plotted a new course and headed the car through Easton to the Delaware River. We wandered through some spectacular houses, some spectacular neighbourhoods – Heather’s asked me not to fill the Journal with pictures of the houses, but they’re gorgeous… I’m going to sit with those pictures flipping past me as I fall asleep tonight. I shall dream of Easton and their turreted houses and stone walls and fantastic things.

Poor Heather – after Easton, I look at her fine, fine figure… and think… “hey baby… nice roof. You’se a brick HOUSE.” Mmmmm.

The ladies of East Stroudsburg University.

Heather in front of Mount Tamany. Mostly I took this picture to get Heather in trouble.

The Delaware Water Gap. When we saw we were near the Delaware Water Gap - between Minsi and Tamany... we had to stop and soak it in. No traffic at all, though. — The Delaware Water Gap. When we saw we were near the Delaware Water Gap – between Minsi and Tamany… we had to stop and soak it in. No traffic at all, though.

The gig at Stroudsburg was very, very small. Above and around, you see pictures of literally half the audience. We had a rough night… a night that inspired me to sing “Bitches and Fuckheads”, which simply displayed what a good idea it is for me NOT to record every performance.

Sigh – anywho, we’re caught up, whether you like it or not. We could talk of the long long drive home, or of our deviations of course – lost on 83 South. We could talk of the New Deal Cafe open mic and the high point – Richard McMullin, and how much I Love listening to him play… or we could even talk of going to see Heather’s brother’s play tonight, “Bye Bye Birdie”, and why high school girls are the best screamers… but all in all, I think I shouldn’t.