The night that we played the show in at the Hemlock in San Francisco, we had the choice between going to a Saturday night party in Oakland or driving an hour North to wine country where there were promises of couches and fold out beds. We picked the latter, not just for the elevated horizontal dream slabs, but for the thought of waking up in wine country’s motherland.
But before we could enjoy any of Sonoma’s fine treasures, we had to get the hell out of San Francisco. A few memories I would like to recount from that journey:
1.Driving up and down the hills and at one point taking such a steep incline that we couldn’t even see the stop sign at the top, followed by all of us screaming like a bunch of goats. In our defense the car was crammed with instruments thus making a little back-heavy.
2. Following the signs for a detour and not realizing where we were until the light of a passing car shined upward to reveal humongous red beams. Somehow we ended up halfway over the San Francisco Bay without knowing it. We quickly fumbled with the ipod to get the Full House theme song going. Luckily the Bay Bridge is so long that we ran out of song before we ran out of bridge.
The drive was lightless and sleepy. Halfway there it started to downpour and since we didn’t really know where we were going it took about two hours instead of one to get to Lauren’s house. We rolled in to find the land of wine and beds nestled in a quiet little neighborhood, the kind that probably deserved more notice and appreciation than our tired little brains could handle. I could’ve crashed anywhere after a day like today but it was nice to be crashing here. We had woken up in LA that morning at 7am to a film crew, driven all day up Highway 1, played a show and finally come to a stop 409 miles later. And even though it was past 2 am, we made time for some California wine and a game in which we each said a word and searched the combination of what was said in youtube. What else are you gonna do when you’re delirious?