9/20/12
Zagreb, Croatia
Grey, post rain
11am
Woke up in Croatia this morning. Zagreb to be specific. Croatia seems to fall somewhere between a mainland European city and Soviet era Russia. Quite the combination, but it makes sense given the more recent history of Croatia—a former part of Yugoslavia. The countryside stands in definitive contrast to the cold aesthetic of the cities in Croatia. Endless, healthy green hills with little cabins strewn about. I get lost in wondering who lives in these cabins, and what their lives are like. Tucked into the sprawling hillside are generations of people living with modest means. Generations of workers, brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers. It may be that I’m still filled with a wonder that I fear losing with every fiber of me, or It could be , and I’m not counting it out, that I’m just an American that can’t help but feel impossibly median when looking at life a world away.
The owner of the venue for tonight’s show met us for load in. It turns out that he lived in Gloucester for three years. In the neighborhood next to the one I grew up in. What a small fucking world! I mean, this Croatian guy had a better frame of reference for my life than anyone that we’ve met on this tour so far. Holy Croatia! It wasn’t quite twilight zone worthy because he was a really nice guy, but close... real close. It just seemed so bizarre to me—talking with him about the streets that I know like the back of my hand, the streets that I cut my teeth on, the streets I inevitably left behind. I'm far from home, but for the expanse of time that our conversations lasted, I was very much close to home.
The show was pretty bleak. We were told that Croatians “Do not like to come out in rain”. Therefore, nobody came. At all. Just the two promoters, the owner, his wife, and us. I still had a great time though. Some nights when I’m playing songs it’s like everything around me disappears, and I’m right back in the moment that brought on the lyrics. Everything else just evaporates into the back drop—the white noise of the venue. I’d be lying if I said that I felt that way all the time, but when I do it truly feels like there is nothing else. Only the song and the reasons.
One thing about the lifestyle that Alissa and myself have chosen is that you have to have your head wrapped around the fact that “success” is entirely in the heart and mind of the individual. If you were the type that would measure it by monetary rewards... I’d say break out the razor and remember to go down the road and not across the street (rookie move). We’re rich in memories and friendships made, roads conquered and flights survived, assholes dealt with and awkward nights turned into inside jokes. The fact is, passion rarely yields anything less or more. I may be broke as fuck, but I made it far from home on songs that I wrote on rusty strings, in basements and dingy hotel rooms, in filthy rehearsal spaces and rooftops. It is a chosen life, totally up to the individual. Sounds like success to me.
On a side note: We did get to meet up with Fritz and his wife in Regensberg. We hit up a local brewery that he had helped build. It’s interesting talking to Fritz about his life, his family, and how brewing has played such a large role in it for so many years. Longer than I’ve been alive. That passion is one that we share. With me it has always come down to my two passions of brewing and music. I’ve been lucky so far in that I’ve been employed at the same brewery for the last six years. They let me take off on these long tours and then re-hire me in a different position each time. This is the height of luxury for a traveling sub-culturalist like myself. Bouncing back and forth from long tours to long hours in a factory setting. It would be hard for someone like me to do this without a job. I do, after all, live in Boston. That city will get every penny from you if you're not keenly aware of you're surroundings.
Right now we’re starting out on another 500Kilometer drive. This time we’re heading to Hungary. The only country on this whole tour that all three of us have never been to. In fact, the three of us seem to have very little knowledge of Hungary, or its history. We’ll have to see what we pick up—besides a bottle.
2pm
Somewhere in Hungary
Well, another group of suckers have gone and let us into their country. Miscreants just seem to be crossing borders around here everyday. The Hungarian border had a particular air of authority about it. I think the fact that they forced the driver in the car ahead of us to take a breathalyzer might have played a significant role in my impression of said authority. Border crossing always gives me the same deep rooted feeling of defiance. As if I’m being forced to participate in something completely outdated—bewildered that it is still exists. Alissa on the other hand gets awful anxiety at every border crossing. Christian seems as though he couldn't give less of a fuck. We've got quite the emotional range on this tour.
Hungary is easy on the eyes, at least from the highway. I can see the small villages—their beginning and end. The rooftops are mostly made out of a compact straw, or it's some kind of retro thing. Not likely. I’m sure Szeged is much different than the villages. We’re in Hungary!!
5:45pm
Made it to Szeged. My first impressions of the city remind me of some of the Siberian cities that we visited last year. There is so much history in this part of the world. History I want to learn. They have pubs that are much older than America. It’s drizzling outside, giving the city an oppressed, sleepy feel. The clouds are ominous, demanding attention, or just giving us a glimpse of the future. At times the world can make you feel so small. I think it’s a good thing. In the face of the endless sky the only thing left to feel is small.
If there’s one thing the last few years of severing roots and traveling has taught me... it’s to unlearn. Assumptions are the bricks that are used to lay a foundation of failure. I know, I sound like some kind of quasi-motivational speaker. The one in the movies that your begging to watch die in some horrific fashion, but it does ring a touch true no? I was taught many things as a child, most of which I’ve found from experience to be arbitrary and false. The one truth I’ve found is uncertainty. Life is one enormous happenstance of joy, misgivings, luck, false bottoms, and humanity. All wrapped up and served at our pleasure. I envy the people that can just chalk everything up to some great plan. Taking a myriad of brilliant colors and breaking them down to black and white.
The cafe we’re playing tonight doubles as a cinema. It looks like the show will be in the cinema room—in front of the screen. The venue has a posh, but comfortable feel. Old movie posters, art noveau paintings, and Soviet propaganda litter the white and flat red walls. If Alissa and I had come here a few years ago, before our first trip to Russia, Szeged would feel like a totally foreign environment. Strangely enough, Hungary feels like we’ve been here before.
Our little crew is in good spirits today despite another long drive. Christian has got his token, teeth forward smile that makes anyone around him feel his joy. Alissa is true to form, interested in walking around the city, and retaining historical relevance in the short time we have. In our walk around the city we noticed how well preserved most of the older buildings were. In the city center, which has an art-decco feel to it, the gold, white, and teal colors jump out at you not unlike the older neighborhoods in Miami. Weird as that is to say, its true, at least to this cracker.
I’ve got my fingers crossed for the show tonight. We could use a real barn-burner.