The Joy Formidable NYC Tour Blog Part 2
09/01/10
“Big cheese, make me, mine says go to the office”
Central park in the sunshine. Squirrels, ducks, ice skating an elf, a helicopter tour and the sound of saxophones. Give some money to a guy who said he’d boxed with Joe Calzaghe and lost his front teeth. Then overhear him telling another group that he’d played bass for James Brown.Guy deserves 2 bucks.
Meet Rhydian at Grand Central Station. Take some snaps and wander the food hall. Contrary to an earlier comment on the inferiority of American cheese, there’s some good looking cheese here. Would have sampled but expensive at $34.99 a lb. Lunch is Crème Soda and a Catfish sandwich. For some reason it doesn’t sit well and even now the mention of a Catfish sandwich summons queasiness. Rhyds likes it though and asks for a doggy bag.
Back to Terminal 5 for Round 2. Dressing room is sub zero. To avoid beer I’ve bought pina coladas. Tonight’s backstage warm-ups include ‘yogging’ – which Matt tells me is a cross between yoga and jogging for those of you who haven’t guessed.
Tonight’s gig throws us another wildcard, a never-happened-before. The lights dim and just as we’re walking on, someone ralphs in the 3rd row. I’m confused by how loud everyone’s screaming and how horrified everyone looks. Other than that, it’s a great show.
Party with PP afterwards. Nate is Djing. Rhydian behaves and only gets his arse out once. According to Matt I reach a Stage 27.
Bed.
10/01/10
“Not a cloud in the sky, got the sun in my eyes and I won’t be surprised if it’s a dream”
A day off. A day to be tourists.
Starts perfectly. Burgers for breakfast.
Walk through Time Square and down towards 5th Avenue.
Is Macy’s really the world’s largest store. Funny they hang the sign on the smallest side.
Empire State Building. Almost out of budget, but we scrape our pennies together and think what the heck. Across from the entrance a huge patrol of screaming cop cars race by. In the passenger seat of one, is a cop, feet up, smoking a cigar. We blink and wish we’d got it on film. Up in the lift, 102 floors and the view is magnificent. Several pictures later, mostly of the roosting pigeons, we begin our descent. The lift operator on the way down tells us “There’s one God and to him alone do we owe…”. The lift door closes. We owe him for good timing. Rhyds has hoarded the band dollars and refuses to buy me a gorilla- humping shot glass.
Onward to Battery Park, where the sun is setting. Some great chimes built into the sidewalk, foot – operated. Joel plays a mean Three Blind Mice. More pictures. More coffee. Subway home.
Bed.
Tags: the joy formidable
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