It was just over a month ago that I posted on this blog that we had a big weekend in Tennessee coming up. What a difference a month can make. We lost a very dear friend and band member that weekend in Jean Claude Slam Van, and a month later, with a few more gigs under our belts to ease the pain and show us life on the road can continue, we are ready to tell you what happened on that fabled weekend.
Things started good on Friday night, Oso Bear came down from Northern KY, and together we whipped that place into the wildest frenzy I've ever seen. Rowdy Lynagh's crowd = great success. Follow that gig up with a long night drive to Knoxville, where we checked into our hotel at 5am, tired and drunk. The next morning we arrived at the Knoxville Visitors Center to perform on 89.9 WDVX's Blue Plate Special radio show. After an afternoon in K-ville, we mosey'd our way to the Longbranch Saloon to perform w/ our old buddies Fifth on the Floor and our new buddies Tim Lee 3. A good time and a wild night was had by all.Skip forward to the next day, where TCR and crew are headed for their 6pm soundcheck at the Hard Rock Cafe in Nashville. It's hot outside, and I mean damned HOT. Jean Claude was a good friend, but one thing he never excelled in was air conditioning, in that he had none. The amount of sweat expelled in the Slam Van on that day cannot be underestimated. After having some transmission issues on the way out of town, the decision was made to get off the interstate and take back roads to Nashville. 10 miles down the road, Jean Claude bites the big one and blows a head gasket. We pull her over in the lot where an old gas station had once stood, surrounded by trees and nary a sign of civil life. Kingston, Tennessee is what this place was called. We were stranded: the sun, very little water, 8 people, the corpse of our fallen friend, and a van full of gear.
Nick with Jean Claude's hood ornament.
Miracle struck in a man named Tommy, one of the decent men left on Earth, who was kind enough to drive 3 of us back to the Knoxville airport (30 minutes back the way we had come) to rent a couple cars. Tommy told us how he'd actually owned the gas station where Jean Claude lay, which had burned down 4 years earlier. The other 5 were left with the rotting corpse of Jean Claude, what little water remained, and a stage's-worth of music equipment. So what happened? A party of course. After hoisting an American flag between two old pieces of PVC pipe, marking the final resting spot of the late Jean Claude Slam Van, TCR family man Geordan Brewer busted out a guitar to sing a somber song for our fallen. Others could be seen scattered exploring, finding dead animals and playing golf with PVC pipe and rocks.
During this waiting period, several cars stopped, no doubt attracted by the good tunes, and traded some of their ice cold beer for a copy of our album, "The Day After Yesterday." In the midst of the panic and chaos, TCR never stopped having a good time. Everything was on the up and up, we'd lost Jean Claude, but the rest of us were alive and kicking, smiles all around, and we'd figure out the whole transportation issue once we'd rocked Nashville and returned to Lexington.
Then we were treated to our friend Lou The Jew. Lou came strolling from the woods, attracted by the sound of Geordan's voice enough to turn off his drag racing and brave the wooded floor surrounding his house without shoes, equipped with only a can of Steel Reserve.
The story of Lou is a good one. A native of Kingston, he'd once spent 6 months living on top of a gas station after his dad beat him. One cold night while it snowed his father came down to the gas station, shouting up at him, "I know you're there! I know you're cold! You can come home and stay warm if you like!" So Lou obliged and returned to his home. The next time his father laid a hand on him, he was gone for good.
Lou was never a fan of shoes, and as such he never wore them. A more bear-footed man would be hard to find. At one point after a declaration of "Bet you've never seen this before," he pulled out a straight razor and began clapping the blade against the bottom of his bare foot, to show us what can happen to a man who lives in Kingston til the ripe age of 48 without shoes. Moments later a crushed steel reserve can under hoof drove home his point. Amidst kind offers to show the TCR crew his garden of assorted plants, the conversation turned to his friends who had recently been on Court TV for "putting a couple cops to sleep with an AK." Apparently they'd been let go.
Lou was apparently known as Lou the Jew because he made most of his living by wheeling and dealing normal items between people for undisclosed amounts of cash. Just the day before he'd purchased a dump truck for $1500. While hanging out he received a phone call from someone wanting to sell him 70 pounds of raw ribeye meat, which may or may not have been stolen. After getting to know everyone, he made an offer to purchase the still-warm corpse of Jean Claude Slam Van for $200, all that he had in his pocket. Jean Claude couldn't have found a better resting place.
The crew returned with the two rental cars, and Lou was kind enough to leave us his cell phone number in case we realized we'd left anything in the van. We all loaded up our gear, said our goodbyes, and headed to Nashville. After the day we'd already endured, we showed up for soundcheck dehydrated, exhausted, and only ten minutes late. The Hard Rock Cafe got its ass rocked that night.
While we lost a dear friend that day on 4th of July weekend in Kingston, TN, we also gained a couple more in Tommy the Good Samaritan and Lou the Jew w/ No Shoes. Thanks for all the good times and good memories Jean Claude Slam Van. May you rest in peace, and may your wheels make a hundred bucks a piece for Lou the Jew.
Adios, Jean Claude.
