The Great State of Iowa

Dave Thomas: philanthropist, restaurateur, orphan, and a passionate hater of Iowa. Today I woke up at a rest stop somewhere East of Des Moines. After a few minutes on the road, it was decided that Wendy's and Wendy's alone would satisfy our appetites. McDonalds? No thanks, Morgan Spurlock. Burger King? Not after that child molester in the King mask made all those commercials. Taco Bell? Yeah right...we need to make good time without stopping every 30 minutes. Therefore it must be the delicious 5 piece chicken nuggets, the original Frosty (I don't know what this new vanilla flavor is), and the square burgers. That's right, square burgers. While other fast food places may cut corners on their meat, Wendy's is committed to giving you the beef, the whole beef, and nothing but the beef.

However, every exit came and went without a single Wendy's advertised. Over 100 miles we traveled, our bellies begging for respite, before we happened upon Des Moines. It was there we saw the one and only Wendy's since leaving Illinois.

Now, why do you think there is a noticeable absence of this land's favorite fast food chain (in this case, good food quickly instead of reheated cardboard)? I have two theories, as usual.

1) Dave Thomas hates Iowa. He never warmed up to corn in his adult years after his foster parents were never able to afford it, instead propagandizing him with anti-corn sentiment. The soft, rolling hills slowly waving back and forth with the stalks made him nauseous. He suffered from motion sickness as an adolescent and he couldn't have any of his restaurants in any city in which he could not stand still without vomiting.

2) Small business owners in Iowa are terrified of Wendy's. They know as sure as the rapture in this Bible belt extension that Wendy's will knock the socks off any other in and out eatery. They have prayed and meditated over the issue. The answer, of course, is bribes. They have been putting members of the Chamber of Commerce into homes well beyond their means for years. Every additional bedroom, every 10 additional horsepower, every additional Italian cut suit these men have, the fewer and fewer commercial lots available for Wendy's.

The zoning committees will give in. They will. Burger King just ain't that good. Get ready Iowans. Dave Thomas has passed on and his minions will prevail.

Hawaiian Shirt Tuesday

Once again, it's Hawaiian Shirt Tuesday. Once again, I am without this dubious attire. Not to be left out again, I was treated to something special: a cheap Hawaiian lei. I was literally forced to wear it all night even though I was in the dark in deep stage left. Without it, I'm told, I'm nothing but a stage hand with special privileges. It's just a shame cameras are not allowed on stage, otherwise my adoring public would be graced with a photo of yours truly in full lei get up.

In other news, my hard work seems to be paying off. At the end of every night, I dutifully help load the trucks even though I'm not really supposed to. While they still don't call me by name Christian name, they know it. Instead, they refer to me by my MunckMusic given name: Opie. Either way, the crew seems to accept me now. Not as one their own, mind you, but instead as a semi-integral part of the show.

With only one show left (with most of the crew), it's about time. It's been a great trip so far and it can only end with favor. Thanks to the great folks of the Allman Brothers organization.

Iron & Wine - The Shepard's Dog

The newest offering from Sam Beam out September 25th on Sub Pop is going to surprise long time fans and win over new ones. The songs on this album are more orchestrated, more diverse, and more fun. His vocal stylings have hints once again of Elliot Smith's drawl and some of the longing made famous by Red House Painters and Sun Kill Moon singer Mark Kozelek. Most of the people familiar with Iron & Wine know the group for its inclusion in the Garden State soundtrack with his cover of Postal Service's "Such Great Heights" but I'm hoping that The Shepard's Dog will expand his fame and notoriety.

The first track "Pagan Angel and a Borrowed Car" begins with a picked guitar, some sloppy (and wonderfully so) drums, and a choir of Sam Beam. The way it begins lends itself to morph into a track with over driven guitar and pounding drums. However, it never really picks up, but it's the type of track you never want to. It's great. My other favorite track is "The Devil Never Sleeps." The tenth track of the nearly 50 minute album is an early Elton John song through and through. Other tracks to check out: White Tooth Man, House by the Sea.

Rating: Get a hard copy.

(Disclaimer: my rating system is as follows: skip it, listen, borrow and burn, buy it, get a hard copy)

Minnesota

Our day's travels have placed us in Minneapolis, Minnesota. I have already heard the phrase "don't ya know" and have only just reached the hotel. I knew it was going to happen, but I didn't expect it to be so soon. Along the road from Milwaukee today, I drifted in and out of consciousness. Every time I was awake, there was the local classic rock station coming in over the speakers in the bus. It made me realize something.

Middle America loves classic rock. Middle America's classic rock DJ's are feeding their listeners with more music than they can seemingly handle. Thankfully, it's all music they've heard before. They have heard each and every song hundreds of times. Each DJ, whether we are in Newark, NJ or on the University of Minnesota campus in the outskirts of Minneapolis tends to love the same songs. They play Bad Company, Aerosmith, Lynyrd Skynard (especially "Simple Man" and "Free Bird"), the Steve Miller Band, the Eagles, and Journey.
This is a crime. It is the equivalent of taxation without representation. These listeners have no choice in cheap entertainment on the way home from work. They are forced to hear the same 200 songs over and over. This sort of thing is the reason this great country declared independence in the first place, right? Once upon a time, I thought the yearly premium for satellite radio was too expensive to catch on. Now, I'm literally jumping at bit to enroll for my next long road trip if I hear one more hour's worth of music featuring "Jamie's Got a Gun," "Don't Stop Believing," and "Hotel California."

Tomorrow the Allman Brothers are playing the grandstand at the Minnesota State Fair. It almost makes me want to seek out a Blockbuster so I can rent a copy of That Thing You Do! to prepare. I bet the fairgrounds will be full of idiots humming Foreigner and Styx songs under their breath. I can only hope that the enthused weight guessers on the main strip can drown out their misquoted lyrics.

Sick...

I'm officially sick on tour. At Bonnaroo in June, I laughed in the face of a sinus infection claiming invincibility. Now when I'm expected to work and work hard until midnight (which is when it is normally at its worst), disaster has struck. I hate sinus infections and will give anyone who helps me $1500 to rip my sinuses out. In addition, I arrived a full 5 hours late to the venue which means I'm in the worst spot without room for all my cases. Today is about a 1 on the wow scale.

Robert Randolph and the Family Band

I’m not sure how many of you are familiar with the delicacy known as an Arnold Palmer but I assure you that it is one worth knowing. To create the delicious mixture, take 45% sweet tea (only moderately sweet tea), 45% lemonade, 10% ginger ale, and 10% love. I guarantee you will not believe your taste buds. Upon arriving at a venue I embark on a nearly religious journey for these ingredients. Today, bless my lucky stars, I was honored with three of the four ingredients—I had to supply the love myself (it’s all in the mixing). Therefore, I insist that you run, don’t walk, to the nearest grocery store to pick up these beverages. If you’re feeling short on love stop into the Hallmark Greeting Card aisle and write a love letter to yourself. It’s not narcissistic if it’s all true, right?

Tonight was the first night of the tour with Robert Randolph. What a showman. His band puts on a terrific show while giving him plenty of room to work his pedal steel all night. I'm not sure I'm love with his studio albums, but his collaboration with the North Mississippi All-Stars and John Medeski in the instrumental gospel jam album under the name The Word. I implore everyone I know to pick this up. It is one of my "must have" albums.

Tonight’s Allman Brothers set was the first 2 ½ hour set I have experienced. It went by very quickly most likely because I was able to sit for this show. Standing hunched over the board for 2 hours is not an entirely good time, as you may imagine. I’m looking forward to tomorrow night.

Tonight’s set list:

Midnight Rider
Trouble No More
Firing Line
School Girl
Wasted Words (one of my personal favorites)
Statesboro Blues
Desdemona
Into the Mystic
No One to Run With
Melissa
Same Thing
JaBuMa
Jessica

Encore:
Love Light with Robert Randolph
One Way Out with Robert Randolph

Clarkston, MI

Today my station has moved from Stage Left to Stage Right. Tonight I bond with the light crew. The light guys are the stage equivalent of Delta House. They work hard, they play hard. My sides hurt already from laughing. They seem utterly obsessed with Borat and fitting his voice and accent into most sentences. Brian Farmer (Warren's guitar tech you might remember) enjoys the company of these guys too and loves to interject with his Cartman impressions. Though, to be honest, it's less Cartman and more Anne Ramsey in her Academy Award nominated performance in Throw Momma From the Train. Tonight I am also blessed with a new opening band: Robert Randolph & the Family Band. I'm very excited to see this spectacle again.

This morning during my hitched ride on the crew busses (which are extremely, extremely nice by the way) I learned something odd. It seems that 60 year-old Allman Brothers drummer Butch Trucks is hopelessly obsessed with the World of Warcraft. Two years ago, he had no email address, no computer, and no clue. Last night his computer crashed at midnight and he made an emergency call the production manager needing a computer tech to get him up and running again by this afternoon so he can continue his quest through the magical land of Warcraft. Mr. Trucks has a fever. Apparently the only prescription is to level up. I wonder if he takes offense to the charmingly satirical South Park episode addressing WoW as it's called by players.


Moving on, it is currently 83 just north of Detroit. In New Orleans, the heat index is hovering somewhere around 103. Suckers.