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I'm afraid I did a horrible job of taking notes from this point on, so I will mostly be working from memory.
I had no trouble getting up Thursday morning, since I'd gone to bed so early the night before. I had my third and final B&B breakfast in the UK (which I will avoid describing since I've already been accused of being too critical in my observations), then went to a small launderette, where the kind staff and patrons assisted me. There was a machine used between the washer and dryer that just spun the clothes for a few seconds. It was interesting. Carrying my full gear, bags converted to one-piece backpack, I felt again like just another annoying student tourist as I walked along the top of the western section of York's city wall. It was just 10:30 when I got to the train station. I had planned to drop off most of my stuff and wander into the city for lunch. I didn't need to be back in Sutton before five or so, and it was just three hours by train away. If you visit York, I recommend, just as everyone else does, walking along the wall. It is free and gives a great view. I saw the guide on the open upper deck of a tour bus pointing out the wall, so I waved, and she waved back. Unfortunately, there is no luggage storage at the York station (yes, I asked; must be another bomb thing), so I dragged everything with me. I found a pub near the bridge where I had a pint of Black Sheep bitter and a large plate of sausage, chips with red sauce, and beans. Again I will skip my impressions of the meal. I was told by a woman who works there that I couldn't leave until I finished, which amused the other patrons, but I ducked out as soon as she was out of sight. I passed a Vauxhall car dealership and decided that this must be General Motors, or an affiliate. The cars all look different there, and most have different names, but I thought this must be GM. Jon later confirmed that it was. I returned to the station just in time to walk directly onto a train to London. Better yet, I managed to actually recall and find the Thameslink train to Sutton AND to get off at the right station. I was unable to contact Jon on his cel phone, but their neighbor took me in and made me tea, after he caught me reaching over the garden door to unlatch it so I could drop off my big bag and wander. After Jon arrived we called the club and found out that not only were the Slingbacks the opening band, they were going on between 8:00 and 8:30. Since Deb wouldn't be getting home until seven or later, we decided it would be best if I went on to the show alone. The club was named Underworld, which was very cute once I discovered that the name of the pub above it had "World" in its name. I got there without incident and found a line of about a dozen kids standing out front. The sign on the box office window said that tickets were available in the bar above the club, but the bar was out. Luckily, there were tickets available once the door opened (many, especially since most of the girls waiting outside to see Joyrider, the headliners, failed to provide adequate proof of age). I called Deb to see if they wanted to come up, but I got the impression that she wasn't really up to it. After a couple of rounds of polite evasion ("well, what do YOU think?"), we finally decided that they would just skip it. The doors opened at eight, but the band wasn't close to starting, so I had time (and it does take time) to order a pint of Guinness, my first non-hand-drawn beer of the trip. I gathered with the kids in the room with the stage (sorry, but going to clubs still makes me feel old) and leaned on the railings with the rest of them. I was wondering how I was going to let Shireen know I was there. While we've known each other online for a couple of years, I hadn't heard from her in six months until I received a package with a very brief note a week and a half before my trip. As far as I knew, she didn't know I was going to be there, and only knew what I looked like from the Superman Christmas card. When we met, she was living in San Francisco. Since then, she's moved to London, put together a band, signed with Virgin, and recorded an album. She's been busy. Luckily, the band came out and stood offstage for a few minutes, waiting to go on, so I went over, called her name, extended my hand, and said, "Hi, I'm Craig Thom." She gave me a smiling look of no recognition and gave me a generic "hello." Before I could try to figure out some way to job her memory, though, my name clicked, she gave me a hug, and introduced me to the rest of the band as the person who sent the pancakes and syrup. As they took the stage, there were a few people along the back of the floor, but most were up on the slightly higher surrounding level behind the railing. I was the only person within 20 feet of the stage. I had found a nice big column about five feet from the center of the stage, a good place to stand close without blocking anyone (I like to stand close at shows, but I am fairly tall, and I don't like to stand in front of people. Usually I stand off to the side of the stage. This column was perfect for me). Shireen reprimanded the crowd for standing so far back, and they obliged by moving somewhat close, but none within five feet of the stage (until the end, when a solo enthusiastic dancer moved in). The show was great, if only thirty minutes. She played most of my favorite songs, picking one of my favorites (even though it has painful-to-men lyrics), "Junkstruck Heart", to embarrass me with. I highly recommend that everyone run out and get All Pop, No Star by the Slingbacks. It should be out in the UK now, and is supposed to be released in the US in a week or two. Even if we weren't friends I'd still like it. After they were done and had their equipment off the stage, I went back into the dressing anteroom with her. She was busy for a while with record company stuff, which gave me time to have a fairly long interesting conversation with Sploote, their new guitarist. It was a bit awkward for a while, because we had physically just met, and I was afraid I would feel out of place, but there was no need to worry. I chatted with Shireen and other band members and her Virgin publicist until it was time to get the equipment out to the van. Then I caught the tube and one of those cool cabs back to Deb's place in Sutton. |