MILWAUKEE, WISCONSIN
AND
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS
AND
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS
From Stewart:
Inertia kicked in for just a hot minute while in Chicago and it was hard for me to break free. So, let me explain and see if it makes more sense. Doing some quick math it seems that I've driven across the country 5 times now; 3 times in bands, 1 time as a geology student on my way to field camp in Wyoming and Montana, and once when I was 14 with my parents going
across the country to pick up my brother as he was discharged from the Air Force in Las Vegas. In all cases I was under 25, and so seeing the country as an under 25-er was more than overwhelming, and in most cases I was either sleeping in a tent, on a floor, in a van, or some combination of these venues, or worse.
This time however Stefan and I are staying in some pretty deluxe accommodations. Aside from the heat being off in the mansion in which we stayed in Detroit, everywhere else has been warm and toast (in this crazy cold snap), with great people, and all of the comforts of an awesome home away from home. So, trip number 6 is not only taking us, me in particular, to places where I have been before and long to return to, but it is taking us there in relative comfort. So, this isn't exactly PUNK ROCK, and that is fine by me. I am, after all, not 25 anymore.
In Chicago we stayed in two wonderful homes, and by day number three not
only was I not all that interested in quickly getting out of dodge, but there was sooooo much that I hadn't seen and wanted to, including hanging out with a friend from Philly that now lives there, and whom I haven't seen in years. Add to that an unexplained anxiety attack that was calmed down by a strong-as-fuck cappucinno and a trip to Whole Foods for my (and I assure you I am addicted to this stuff) daily "Green Goodness" drink. So, yeah, and it was then that I realized that we were getting out of dodge.
I took the wheel and began driving to Milwaukee. 2 hours as the crow flies, but 3.5 hours as the car drives. Rt. 94 was under massive construction and suffering through post-rush-hour mega congestion. I was tired, coming down from my high-anxiety, and behind the wheel. Somehow we made it without incident, and we set up shop at the High Hat Garage. We ate and awaited our victims, two local old-heads; one with the bars in chrome (Michael) and one with them branded into his stomach (Scott), and our host Peter DiAntonio from Cog Mag.
While small in number, our first BRAND is pretty significant. Scott, the possessor of said brand,
also owns the Garage, and so shooting was a dream. Great shots and lots of 
great talk about punk rock, bicycles, motorcycles, and photography (was in the company of no less than 4 photographers). In a few moments we take off to explore downtown Milwaukee, get our cafe' on, and possibly tour a bicycle manufacturing shop. Next stop, Minneapolis and the Triple Rock Social Club. I haven't been to Minneapolis since 97. Been a while.
Inertia kicked in for just a hot minute while in Chicago and it was hard for me to break free. So, let me explain and see if it makes more sense. Doing some quick math it seems that I've driven across the country 5 times now; 3 times in bands, 1 time as a geology student on my way to field camp in Wyoming and Montana, and once when I was 14 with my parents going
across the country to pick up my brother as he was discharged from the Air Force in Las Vegas. In all cases I was under 25, and so seeing the country as an under 25-er was more than overwhelming, and in most cases I was either sleeping in a tent, on a floor, in a van, or some combination of these venues, or worse.
This time however Stefan and I are staying in some pretty deluxe accommodations. Aside from the heat being off in the mansion in which we stayed in Detroit, everywhere else has been warm and toast (in this crazy cold snap), with great people, and all of the comforts of an awesome home away from home. So, trip number 6 is not only taking us, me in particular, to places where I have been before and long to return to, but it is taking us there in relative comfort. So, this isn't exactly PUNK ROCK, and that is fine by me. I am, after all, not 25 anymore.In Chicago we stayed in two wonderful homes, and by day number three not
only was I not all that interested in quickly getting out of dodge, but there was sooooo much that I hadn't seen and wanted to, including hanging out with a friend from Philly that now lives there, and whom I haven't seen in years. Add to that an unexplained anxiety attack that was calmed down by a strong-as-fuck cappucinno and a trip to Whole Foods for my (and I assure you I am addicted to this stuff) daily "Green Goodness" drink. So, yeah, and it was then that I realized that we were getting out of dodge.
I took the wheel and began driving to Milwaukee. 2 hours as the crow flies, but 3.5 hours as the car drives. Rt. 94 was under massive construction and suffering through post-rush-hour mega congestion. I was tired, coming down from my high-anxiety, and behind the wheel. Somehow we made it without incident, and we set up shop at the High Hat Garage. We ate and awaited our victims, two local old-heads; one with the bars in chrome (Michael) and one with them branded into his stomach (Scott), and our host Peter DiAntonio from Cog Mag.While small in number, our first BRAND is pretty significant. Scott, the possessor of said brand,
also owns the Garage, and so shooting was a dream. Great shots and lots of 
great talk about punk rock, bicycles, motorcycles, and photography (was in the company of no less than 4 photographers). In a few moments we take off to explore downtown Milwaukee, get our cafe' on, and possibly tour a bicycle manufacturing shop. Next stop, Minneapolis and the Triple Rock Social Club. I haven't been to Minneapolis since 97. Been a while.
OK, Stewart, time to call YOU out a little now. (Enjoying the posts, thanks.) At the Philly shoot you turned up your nose at my Nirvana tat. Now you are IN a nirvana of sorts--MPLS, one of the hottest spots for true old-school U.S. punk rock: Husker Du, Soul Asylum, Playhouse, and of course, best of all, the Replacements. Sorry Ma, Forgot to Take Out the Trash--one of the greatest albums of all time. Agree?
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