In the early morning of July 29, 2000, The Jellybricks set out for Los Angeles, California. Their destination: The 3rd annual International Pop Overthrow. Their drummer, Tom, kept the following journal which we present to you now in its completely unexpurgated version (as far as you know).
SATURDAY MORNING, JULY 29
Traveling To L.A.
Our journey begins. It’s 5 A.M. and I just got up to catch a ride
to Baltimore. It feels like a truck ran over my head. I guess I should
have gone to bed earlier than 2:30 A.M. Need coffee now.
Here’s
a picture of the limo that took us to the airport. Mad shout-out-big props
to Bef, for hooking us up with the pictured limo.
OK, we’ve arrived at the airport and we just checked
in. Traveling in our group is Larry, Nora (our friend from Cleveland),
Bryce, his fiancé Angela, and yours truly. Garrick and his girlfriend
Leigh Ann left yesterday.
Really high up, somewhere over the U.S.
The sexy stu’s are getting ready to serve us breakfast burritos.
I’ve never had breakfast in burrito form and I’m not about to
start now, by gum. I opt for some Special K.
Sitting near Larry and Nora is this woman who just scarfed down a sandwich which she brought on the plane with her. Who brings in an outside sandwich on an airplane? She isn’t done yet. Here’s a direct account from Nora of the second course:
She pulled one of those Fritos Scoops packages out of her bag. They contain a rather hefty portion of Fritos, and a can of Chili. You're supposed to heat the chili and use the Fritos to scoop it out of the can and eat it. She ate it cold. It's like Hormel Chili or something. She was making us sick.
As if this isn’t curious enough, she devours all food in time to order the aforementioned Spanish style burrito breakfast treat. She’s a sandwich-eating machine. I can’t deal with this Frito-burrito-sandwich-eating devil women anymore. I’m going to sleep now.
Denver, CO - Layover
We land in Denver for a quick layover. Everything is so inconveniently
spread out at this airport. Bryce, Angela and I search for a beverage.
Afterward, we walk 17 miles to our terminal. Can’t wait to get out
of here.
Really high up again, somewhere over the US
On our way to Los Angeles. Special thanks to steward Cliff for bringing
us our bagels “in a jiffy.” I actually sit and ponder just how
long a jiffy is. It’s like the "if a tree falls in the forest"
thing. No more thinking, I sleep now.
Arrival in Los Angeles, CA
Finally we arrive in California! It’s about 2:30 or so West Coast
time. Now we’re off to get the rental cars. The wait at the car rental
place is absurd. We pass the time by making fun of Bryce.
Finally we made our way to the hotel (the lovely Orchid Suites). Due to travel fatigue, we decide to take a nap. Suddenly, something goes horribly wrong, the nap spins out of control and we all remain unconscious until 11:30 P.M. We awake. Hungry. Time for din din.
We
drive down Hollywood Boulevard and take in the sights. We stop in at Mel’s
Drive-In. Bryce and Angela are already there, finishing their meal. This
is a famous place. For you movie buffs, this is where the movie American
Graffiti was shot. I make a move for a vanilla Coke and a Mel Burger.
I especially loved the picture of Marilyn Monroe (who I am obsessed with)
eating a hamburger at this very same drive-in. Just to know I’m eating
a burger where Marilyn once did makes me…hungry for some fries. I
go for a heaping mound of Mel’s Private Reserve Fries. I think Mel
personally spits in each batch!
While dining, Nora tries to convince our waiter to dump
scalding hot coffee on the crotches of Larry and myself. Luckily for Larry
and I, this doesn’t happen. But the waiter was trying to be funny
and came awfully close. He was so silly and really made us laugh. We had
a great time. To teach our waiter a lesson, Larry and I took him out back
and beat the hell out of him after we were done with our meal.
After the eating and the beating, we went for a little drive. We drove
through Beverly Hills and saw some nice houses. The zip code there is
90210, as is my understanding. Then we drove through a suburb of LA called
Brentwood. Remember Brentwood? That’s where O.J. “allegedly”
hacked off his wife’s head. We didn’t see the actual house (it’s
since been torn down) but we were definitely minutes from said hacking-off-wife’s-head
location. Marilyn Monroe’s house (where she was found dead) is also
in Brentwood. It’s really a great area to O.D. or have your head
severed by a jealous Football Hall of Famer.
We drive some more and try to find the Capital Records building so Larry can point it out to me. No one can find it. Larry assumes he’s hallucinating. Defeated, we finally give up and return to hotel. (Note: I later see the building on my way to the airport. It’s turns out we were looking in the wrong direction. Thanks Larry). [Note from Garrick: I was there when Larry finally saw the building days later. What a novel idea -- turning your head to check in the opposite direction if you don't immediately see a huge white, record shaped building.]
It’s late. I’ve traveled, slept, ate and traveled. Time for bed. Goodnight, sugar pie honey bunch.