East Coast

The East Coast is just a little bit different than Colorado and New Orleans. For one, the concept and logistics of transportation are on people's minds constantly. "Where are you going" and "how do you get there" are questions heard hourly if not more frequent. The geography of the city makes it such, millions of people packed, overflowing onto an island like it's the last place drinking water is available on Earth or something.

There are some serious common misconceptions about NYC which I noticed are blatantly false and should be disproved.

1. New York is hard to get around... Do you have two feet? Can you put two dollars (twice that of a soda machine!) in a little turnstile device that let's you onto a train which goes anywhere and everywhere for a paltry sum? If so, this myth is clearly just that. The web of trains, shuttles, cabs and your own bi-pedal movement makes getting around a breeze, with just a little forethought.

2. New Yorkers are assholes... Couldn't be farther from the truth. From the guy who sold me falafel in his late-night cart, to the jolly 16-year old with her belly hanging out of her undersized pink t-shirt, jamming on her iPod as she skips down Park Ave... everybody is busy, busy, busy, but certainly not an asshole. "Excuse me" would get pretty old if you bumped elbows with 21 million people daily, too.

3. New York is expensive. Two blocks from the apartment where I spent several nights in NY you could get a slice of pizza for 99 cents. I can't even find the hot key for the "cents" sign on my computer, that's how cheap the za was... And OK, maybe this pizza wasn't the health quality standard for the 21st century, but in an economy of scale, that's some cheap food people. Stay out of SoHo shops and trendy restaurants (which you should be doing anyway, you blue-blooded American penny pincher of our newly inherited economy! Let's go get a dog at Coney Island anyway, which we did... more on that later.

Point is, go to New York! It's only the commercial and cultural center of the conceivable universe for crying in the milk...

Visit the rest of the dense area, too. So much to see.

That's what I did by traveling to Boston first with my fuzzy-headed, musical companion, Portwood. After staying up all night post- side project show, sliding down the mountain to DIA, we were off to Boston town last Monday.

You have to understand how hilarious our friends' the Healey's are. Proud parents of two gorgeous children who have an insatiable appetite for play with their "uncles" (us), we party and pontificate with our friends and mentors about everything in life. I lived on their couch for a number of months last fall, and let's put it this way: my tweezed uni-brow hairs on your bathroom counter is the fast track to getting to know me, intimately. We are the best of friends and they are they perfect companions and catalyst for attending an amazing live show.

Phish did not disappoint in Boston. Rejecting their label by popular media, the band plowed through song after song of strong structure and the jams sounded like true, conversational improvisation, not noodle-like time wasting. Trey ripped and Gordo/Fish provided the backbone of a brontosaurus. Somehow we made it back to our Red Roof Inn and even after closing my eyes, I could hear the party continue in the hall, pool, foot of my bed and of course, behind my own eye lids.

Our time in Boston was all too short. Beyond enjoying a much needed day at the beach and a pleasantly shocking, shrinkage-inducing romp in the Atlantic Ocean the next day, it was time to head down to NYC the next day on the bus.

Greyhound is a great option if you don't mind seeing the country like most of us do, on the open road with all the other gas-guzzlers. My apologies and regards to Carrie-Anne, sitting behind me, who in my excited nervousness I had asked to stay the whole time in New York with us, pestering her by the minute. I liked her smile and radiance (I have this issue with brunettes...) but was so excited for the city I could have asked the whole bus to party with the crew all week....

Party we did. After taking a few nights off, this is my vacation after all, we hit the town. First night out, I stumbled into a jam session where a guitar was promptly rented for me and the jam was on. It's always interesting improvising with musicians from around the country and this was no different. Rock and roll is alive indeed in New York and it came through the vibe that night. Soulful city rock with street noise and steely blues....

Another night I found myself in a bumper-car like charade through west Greenwich Village, THE village, with my always adventurous friend, Laura. We met up with her hilariously sarcastic brother and his fiance, had expresso's with cognac and dove down into THE dive, a dark bar straight from the time of dark colonial taverns, with a beer list to match.

In a randomly amazing sign that this was my personal East Coast music tour where I finally got to just listen, rather than produce and play, a very smart (Masters in Math something incredible....) Emily hooked us up with Furthur tickets on Coney Island. After rollicking hard, I mean hard, in the oldest, most famous roller coaster in the world, The Cyclone, we watched the surviving members of the Grateful Dead do what they've been doing best for thirty years under a warm Coney Island sky. Fireworks followed, bookending my trip perfectly.

I had enough hot dogs, the classic at Coney, to burst on the long train home.

Sitting in LaGuardia, I'm sad to leave this place. The energy and human creativity and drive is tangible everywhere. I plan on returning in the fall to produce some tracks with up-and-coming Brooklyn producers and play some showcase shows for those in the know. Until then, back to Colorado for a show tonight and the continued push to deliver "Actual Natural" to the masses.


Keep on pushing on , people, pushin' on.