Sometimes I genuinely miss the city of Richmond when I leave it for awhile. This weekend I went out of town to play a show in the sleepy college town of Blacksburg. The show is a whole other story unto itself, but when we got back into Richmond. It was one of those moments that I realized what kind of a surreal and singular place I live in.
We had just finished emptying out the van and we were saying our goodbye's and what-not when a man walked passed us in the middle of the street.
"Anyone want some mushrooms?", he said.
"No" was the unanimous answer and we awkwardly looked to one another for some kind of comfort.
"Which one of you is the drummer?"
Mike: "Uh, me."
Man with sketchy hallucinogenic drugs: "You good, man. I gotta holla at you, man. I gotta holla. Yo, you know who you guys sound like?"
Me: "Who?"
"Rush, man. You know them?" What would happen for the next thirtys seconds is an obviously crazed man giving his best Geddy Lee, blingly ignoring the fact that he was in the middle of a busy one-way street. We went back to what we were doing and no one said a word. Thirty minutes later it finally hit me. I sometimes regret that experiences like this kind of get put in the same box as all the other forgettable things that happen in a day. Being offered mushrooms from a stranger and then being compared to Ontario's best is rare. Anytime you can catch those times and put them where they belong (i.e. blog that bitch!) is great. Take advantage.
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