After my show in Coatesville, PA on Friday night, I drove north for an hour and change to find a budget motel along the highway en route to New York City. I awoke at a reasonable hour in central New Jersey on Saturday morning and sat down to do a bit of WAIM work before I set off to meet a friend for lunch.
After a couple of hours of work in the room, I drove for an hour to reach the town of Tenafly, New Jersey where I would be meeting my friend Sandy for lunch. I arrived in Tenafly just after 10:30 and found a small cafe located in an old railway station. I ordered a large cappuccino and set up the laptop to get a bit more work done before Sandy would be available for lunch.
Sandy arrived just after noon and suggested that we hit the historic Tenafly Diner for lunch. The diner was built with a typical rail car diner design with a couple of sections that had clearly been added on in later years. The interior of the restaurant was spotless and rendered with historical accuracy. I ordered the pastrami and Swiss on marble rye, and was not disappointed.
After lunch, Sandy and I made our way back to his house which sits directly next to the former estate of Glenn Miller, the legendary band leader who went missing in World War Two. Virtually all of Sandy’s neighborhood sits on land that was once owned by Miller, and was used as a spot to house his big band and crew. Miller’s original mansion sits right next to Sandy’s house. Jody, Sandy’s wife and I even took a stroll over to peek at the house and the historic plaque that graces the front of the building.
As late afternoon approached, Sandy, Jody, and their son Sam jumped into their car to convoy with me and Aretha down to Brooklyn where we would find the venue and grab a bite to eat in the neighborhood before the show began. I hopped into Aretha and set the GPS for Freddy’s Bar in Brooklyn, NY. The commute would take roughly an hour and 15 minutes, although we’d only be traveling 21 miles. I careened through northern New Jersey until I hit the traffic piling up to get onto the George Washington Bridge which takes you into northern Manhattan.
While waiting in a traffic jam, I pulled up the Justin Townes Earle album, Harlem River Blues, and cranked the opening track just in time to begin my journey across the bridge, fording the East Harlem River into Manhattan. As traffic speed picked up on the bridge, I felt the wind rush through the open windows and I felt a surge of emotion hit me as a I realized I would be playing a show in New York City in just a few hours time. I sang along loudly with the record with tears streaming down my cheeks.
I crossed the George Washington Bridge and hit the West Side Drive, careening down the western side of the island, taking in the myriad sites along the way. Traffic slowed again as I made my through the tunnel into Brooklyn. Once I passed through the tunnel, I found the venue, and then turned on to a side street to secure some street parking, which was shockingly free.
Sandy, Sam, and I all grabbed some gear and began the walk back to Freddy’s a block or so away. The bar was lit with a dark ambiance, and was superbly decorated with ephemera, tchotchkes, vintage artwork, antique signage, and even a few nautical artifacts from the 19th century. I introduced myself to the bar staff and found a place to stash my gear in the performance room.
With 90 minutes before soundcheck, we set off on foot to find a spot to eat in the neighborhood nearby. As we strolled northward on Brooklyn’s 5th Avenue I was struck at how much the area reminded of the Northside neighborhoods in Chicago. One can sense that the chaotic energy and might of Manhattan are just across the river, but Brooklyn maintains a separate, individual identity that is far more laid back and more working class than its glitzy counterpart.
We found a charming Mexican restaurant with available seating and snagged a table. As we sipped margaritas and awaited our entrees, the dining room began to fill up quickly, making me very grateful that we had arrived when we did. My chicken burrito was delicious and filling. I normally don’t love to eat right before I play a set, but I was grateful to get a meal in before the city was too full to find a spot at the table.
We made our way back to Freddy’s about 7:15 and waited for the sound tech to arrive. I set up my guitar, double checked the set list and got all of my various pieces of gear into place. I was finally able to check by 7:30 and had everything ready to roll with a few minutes to spare before go time.
The performance area at Freddy’s is a separate room near the back of the bar. The small space can accommodate just 30-40 people at most, making for a cozy setting on a Saturday night. As I sipped a nice cold Miller High Life, my friend Erik Didriksen from the Rockin’ The Suburbs podcast community came through the door. I had known Erik virtually for a couple of years, but we had just met in person for the first time a week earlier in Knoxville at the annual Suburbs Fest event. Another Suburbs friend, Jason Goebels popped in the door right behind Erik. They both gave me a hug and we chatted for a few minutes before it was time to begin my set.
I stepped up to the mic at 8:00 pm sharp to deliver a blistering set of songs and stories. While the small room was not completely full, I did have a tight little crowd following along intently for my set. I felt in total command behind the microphone. The Pantones’ tune, ‘Lost and Found’ was a real highlight of the evening. After the set, Erik, who is also guitar player, even commented about how much he loved the C7 chord that happens in the chorus on that tune. It was lovely to see someone pick out a minute detail in one of my songs and find excitement within it.
After I finished up, a Brooklyn collective billing themselves as The Groove Merchants took the stage for an hour of obscure jazz-pop covers. The band was fun, tight, and ridiculously talented. It was clear that all of these players have studied for years at their craft, with a pair of them efortlessly switching instruments during the set.
When The Groove Merchants finished up, Sandy, Erik, Jason, and Erik’s girlfriend, Melanie helped me to schlep my gear to the car from the venue. I said my goodbyes to Sandy, Jody, and Jason and thanked them profusely for coming out to the show. Erik and Melanie, who were kind enough to offer me a place to crash or the evening, gave me their address in Queens and offered some advice and instructions for parking near their house.
I hopped back into Aretha for the 45 minute drive to Astoria where Erik and Melanie have an apartment. I was at the house before my hosts and scanned the streets for a place to park for the night. I managed to find a spot about three blocks from the apartment, and hung in the car until my hosts arrived. About twenty minutes later, Erik texted to say that they had exited the train and were on the walk home. I grabbed my gear and headed to the address.
After I had loaded my bags into the apartment, we headed back out to get a late night bite. We waited at a Middle Eastern food cart across the street from the apartment. I ordered a gyro, while Erik and Melanie both went with the combo platter. My sandwich was scrumptious. It made me long for a world in which I too could have access to street food right outside my front door. But, this is why folks pay those big city rents.
We finished up our delicious late night grub while chatting about music, baseball, history, and books. During this conversation I learned that Erik had written a book a few years back called Pop Sonnets, wherein he takes famous pop songs and rewrites them as Shakespearean sonnets. In fact, it was this book that introduced him to the Rockin’ The Suburbs community. Eventually, we said good night and it was lights out.
In the morning, I was awake before my hosts had risen. I sat down at the kitchen table to get some writing done, as well as doing some additional communication work on the tour dates through the end of the tour leg. Melanie got up after I had been working for an hour or so, and we chatted while Erik Slept in a bit more. Eventually, Erik made his way out to the living room and we all made a plan to head out for bagels at a local spot.
The city was already busy by mid-morning as we made the 10 minute walk to the bagel shop. Once inside the shop, we waited in a lengthy line of Sunday morning diners. I ordered an everything bagel with creamed cheese, smoked salmon, red onion, capers, and lemon juice. Erik ordered the same, while Melanie opted for scallion cream cheese with smoked salmon. Once our bagels were ready, we headed back to the apartment and made fresh pour over coffee to have with our breakfast.
The bagel was a genuine delight for this hungry midwesterner. While we have passable bagels in this part of the country, they are nothing like the crunchy, flavorful, well-crafted bagels of New York. The salmon was smoky and velvety. The capers and red onion brought out a hint of bitterness and a hit of crunch, while the cream cheese melded the flavors beautifully together. I savored every single morsel.
I started a load of laundry after breakfast and got myself a second cup of coffee. Melanie, Erik, and I continued our discussion from the evening before, and we began look at our plans for the day. I found myself with much of the afternoon open before I needed to be in Eastchester, NY for a benefit gig hosted by my dear friend, Meghan. With several hours to kill, my hosts asked if I might like to join them at the neighborhood farmers market. I happily said yes, and we set back out into the streets of Astoria.
Erik and Melanie led the way towards a three block section of street that was cordoned off for foot traffic only. Each side of the street was lined with produce, baked goods, pasta, desserts, and more. During the summer, this section of Astoria holds a market every weekend on Saturday and Sunday, with a rotating variety of vendors.
On the day we arrived, there was a bounty of fresh produce including heirloom tomatoes, lettuces, micro greens, fresh herbs, cherry tomatoes, fingerling potatoes, blueberries, and sweet corn. My hosts bought some tomatoes, sweet corn and a few other veggies for the week. Erik was especially excited to use the heirloom tomatoes for a BLT.
Back at the apartment, I moved my clothes from the washer to the dryer, and then began to pack up my other gear, so that once my laundry was finished, I could make my way out to the car and then up to Eastchester. It took quite a while for my clothes to get dry, so I continued hanging out with my hosts, having a wonderful time just shooting the shit about life.
Eventually, the dryer finished up. I folded my shirts, socks, and shorts, and crammed them into my carpet bag. I gave Erik and Melanie each a big hug, and thanked them for their generous hospitality. It is still shocking to me that someone that I had met just a week ago was now hosting me like a long lost friend. I walked to the car filled with gratitude for new friendships, and quality time with wonderful people.
Cheers,
Matty C
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