recap central: baltimore, maryland.

monday, september 28th, 2009.
so, as mentioned in the previous post about dc, i missed my initial greyhound bus and had to catch the latter, which put me in baltimore pretty late.

baltimore greyhound station rating: AMAZING.

i took a taxi to my hostel, and the taxi driver was totally a weirdo, in a good way. he was hilarious and kept doing all these weird voices and saying that he scared people, but he was really funny and goofy! i enjoyed it! the hostel was pretty nice, i think, shit, it’s all kind of a blur. the guy at the front desk was telling me he was glad i showed up because he’d been dialing the number from that one song… that ’80s song with the phone number in it (i forget the godamn song name and number). but basically, he would dial different area codes and then the phone number. i actually didn’t believe him until he dialed this one number and then had me listen to it, and the message was just some random guy rambling about how people needed to stop calling him on this number — he was trying to be sarcastically funny, really — and it went on FOREVER. at least a five minute message; i didn’t stick around to listen to the whole thing cause it was way too long. kinda amusing, though, he must get called that a lot. someone was telling me that the (former?) new york mayor’s phone number was that number, but i have no idea if that’s true.

anyway, then i walked to the venue where psychic ills were playing, called sonar, but there was a motherfucking guestlist snafu, and i totally missed their fucking set, even though i could hear them playing from outside. it really sucked. as i was waiting around calling whomever and doing whatever, some guy started talking to me, and he worked on some yacht as a captain? and he was just in town for the night checking out some music. he was kinda weird and drunk and anxious. he suggested i just walk in the back door of the venue where the bands were loading out, and i was like nah, and he’s like, “hell, i’d do it! i don’t live here so i’ll do whatever i want!” or something ridiculous. i also didn’t think particularly highly of him — and this is perhaps judgmental — because he didn’t appreciate psychic ills’ music (and their music is rad) but moreso because he said that he wouldn’t like them unless he was “tripping on acid” or something ridiculous. finally, i was like, “i’m just going to wait until they come out and talk to them,” and he stepped away for a sec when the psychic ills guys came out so i went to talk to them about getting me in. they were super sweaty! but yeah, i got in. but only for butthole surfers… who i really didn’t care for. so it was really kind of a waste. ah, well.

there were some kids next to me at the butthole surfers show who were really loud and young and crazy and one guy started talking to me, and mentioned he was in a band, so i gave him a business card. he actually texted me later that night, which was kiiiiiinda weird. and the next day, too.

later, as i was leaving the venue, creepy yacht guy caught up to me and was like, “did you get in? i told the psychic ills guys to come talk to you,” and i was like, “i talked to them before you did.” and he was like, oh, because i think he was completely full of shit. freak! and i left in a jiffy.

when i got back to the hostel, i had the wrong fucking door code, so i had to wait until this kinda drunken old dude came up to let me in. at first i wasn’t sure if he lived at the hostel or if he was a crazy bum, but yeah.

tuesday, september 29th, 2009.
walked around and explored, basically. it was cool — i enjoyed baltimore.

woke up, left, and headed over to the cute little lexington market thing and got early morning udon. totally black part of town — i was like the only non-black person around for days (except for inside the actual market itself).

took my udon for breakfast and headed downtown to the waterfront to eat it.

lotta cool random art along the way. this group was doing essentially what the free sheep foundation does in seattle — that is, take spaces that are about to be demolished and put up impromptu galleries in there. particularly easy in baltimore, i feel like, because baltimore is just chock full of buildings that are slated to be demolished, really. similar to detroit. in fact, i forget who, but someone was telling me about these awesome parties in detroit where artists just kind of hole up in giant warehouses and have art openings that are totally underground… probably in spaces where people aren’t even supposed to live, but because no one really checks, these people are just making beautiful awesome art out in the middle of nowhere. i’ve heard really great things about detroit’s art scene, and really hope i get to see some of it sometime. i didn’t get a chance to talk to locals in detroit about much because it was such an impromptu trip, but maybe next time.

people find it hard to believe i like baltimore and detroit so much, but then i tell them i like shitty buildings and things, and they’re like, “ah, that makes sense.”

more art.

finally got to the waterfront and chowed down on my fucking food!

barnes and noble and hard rock cafe inside of an old power plant? alrighty, then!

these awesome things along the ground that say “river walk” in various languages. every other one is english and in between are different languages. i really loved the idea.

flag house, where the first american flag was made

it was right near little italy.

a most enjoyable storefront.

mmmm, urban decay.

locals totally thought i was a weirdo for taking pics of shit like this, but god, look how awesome (if you can even see how awesome).

why wouldn’t you use free parking (left) more often, people who are paying for parking (right)?!!!

tonza jews up in dis bitch.

shot tower. whatever.

there was a hilarious marriage campaign with signs similar to this everywhere. haha.

24oz grape ade? hell yeah.