Don Mann: Focusing on my Craft

Thursday, Feb. 24, 2005 - 4:50 a.m.

I wrote this on my first and only road trip...ever.

Circle Church Tour Diaries
12/30/03
Today I was rudely awakened by that jackass Dean. I was in the middle of a wonderful dream when all of a sudden I hear my name...and I awoke. Crawling about on my floor like an imbecile was my bandmate Dean, and the realization of my duties struck me like a rock to the forehead. I needed to get ready. Today was an important day because it was just the beginning of an incredible journey...the journey to a new land. This land was known to its natives as Pennsylvania.
The whole concept was that I'd be helping out Dean's brother to move to a new home. This involved getting to Sandown by eleven, and packing a U-haul with all of his personal belongings.
After a series of ridiculous mishaps such as the truck becoming stuck in the snow, and moving a broken boxspring, we finally had a moment to rest. The crew (Dean, Blake, Steven Barker Turner, and Rick) assembled in the living room to watch a terrible movie called National Security. I have a new hatred for Martin Lawrence. I never realized the depth of my loathing for his films until I was forced to recall horrid memories of such stereotypical black cop movies like Blue Streak, some other shit movie in which he pretends to be a cop, and everything else in his entire career. The prick is loud, obnoxious, and sooooo very BLACK. Some people accept equality, but every one of his characters insist upon inequality.
Anyways, after most of the packing was done Dean and I went on a short cruise to Plaistow, during which I aquired a powerful disgust for Wal-Mart. Perhaps I didn't acquire it, but I more or less enhanced this abhorrence.
No I shouldn't. I'll so remember what that means later.
Now we're in Steven's room talking about licking each other's asses as a method of greeting. Believe it or not, Dean wasn't the one to bring up this topic. I blame...the sea.
~Don out

12/31/03
Today was the drive. Nine and a half long hours in the car traversing wastelands of winter. From Massachusetts to New York, New Jersey into Pennsylvania, each state had its own characteristics which we could easily isolate. New York was a land of barren hills and sweeping underbrush lowlands, swamps and valley towns blanketting the countryside.
As soon as we arrived at the apartment we began unloading the U-Haul. It was a long and arduous task, but after a small amount of hard work we had successfully filled the apartment to the brim with boxes and pieces of disassembled furniture. Shortly after completing this task Dean, Ron and I adventured forth into the small Pennsylvanian town of Marrietta, which yielded a small italian eatery on its main strip. We waited perhaps 15 minutes for our subs, then brought them back to the apartment. It was during this time of social interaction with the sub shop's employees that I realized something very important; people here have accents. It's a sort of lazy southern drawl but not quite a full-fledged slur.
Their subs very devestating, both to my taste buds and my digestive system. When we asked for a "Steak and Cheese Sub" we were corrected and informed that the particular sub we were looking for was known as a "Cheese Steak". This made absolutely no sense to me, but I accepted it because I was trying to be open-minded to their different ways of life.
I mean, what the hell is a cheese steak? Some kind of enormous piece of cheese cut specifically for cooking? Their subs tasted like ass.

Delve Into The Past - Onward Into The Future