Road Diary Coconut Coolouts Convoy
posted by November 8 at 13:00 PMon
Coconut Coolouts recently went out for a short tour and kept a diary of their adventures to share with us when they got home. Here it is, in all its barfing on walls, hanging out in tiki bars, fast-food gorging glory. Coconut Coolouts play Pony tonight with Partman Parthorse and PWRFL Power.
The first show was at the Funhouse in Seattle with Tyvek and Nice Smile.
Nothing super exciting happened until after the show when we all came back to Lacey and Ruben’s and drank more beer, ordered a pizza, and made each other pass out by choking each other like teenagers.
We went downtown to pick up Ross on our way to Portland. We pulled up next to him on the street and he immediately turned around and began gazing into an empty storefront without noticing that we were there. When he finally saw us he said, “Should I load my instrument in the rear?” and we laughed and laughed. We head out down I-5 and made out first stop—the Red Lobster in Federal Way for all you can eat everything. I mean, what the hell, right? Let’s celebrate in style! We arrived in Portland to find that Dunes was not open yet so we headed down the street to Jiggles Hot Java to kill some time until we could finally get into the club. At 8 pm we were allowed into the Dunes and were told to leave our shit in the van until time to play because the place was so small.
Shortly after this it dawns on me that Popeye’s is just down the street so Lacey heads over for a biscuit and some red beans and rice. Back at the Dunes everyone was still sitting around until 11pm when Nice Smile finally decided to play, after fruitlessly trying to tune the Bugs’ drum. We play next and we’re doing a pretty good job but everyone’s spirits are crushed by a dude yelling about how the Bugs should play. Lacey, somewhat in amazement, ends up selling this guy a CD after we play and find out that he thought we were the Bugs—yeah! Spirits back up.
After we played we all went over to the dojo next door and took photos of Ian, Ross, and Pete pulling out some questionable wrestling moves on each other. No one got hurt but it looked totally real. After we loaded up we all went back to JJ’s to crash. Ruben ended this night just like last time we were on tour—on mushrooms, playing drums, and barfing on the wall at dawn.
We get up far too early the next morning (considering Ruben’s post-psychedelic haze and our general disinterest in being conscious) to drive to Davis. Bagel sandwiches for breakfast, a brush-off of the Tyveks’ attempts at riding in our far more comfortable van and we’re on our way. Driving sucks. Lunch was Dairy Queen, Taco Bell, Subway and Del Taco. This is when the Amazing Barnanas’ (Ian’s) hind quarters start to go completely haywire. We manage to make our only Lacey-requested rest stop at a porta-potty outside of a shack in the mountains in central Oregon. Ian manages to take a dump in the porta-potty before Lacey can get inside. Pete thinks it’s fine, arguing that “once it hits the blue stuff it evaporates.” Lacey disagrees.
After a lot more driving and somehow making a wrong turn on I-5 we finally manage to find our way to Davis. Davis seems tranquil, with a hint of girls-gone-wild edge. We note our approval of this by rolling down the van windows and playing DJ Assault as loud as we can as we make our way past campus. After eating a bag of jellybeans, Dr. Nuckinfutz (Ross) compulsively screams “Yo Quiero Blow Jobs” out the window. We find our way to the club, a house turned into restaurant/venue called Delta of Venus. Parking is nice as it allows us to have a serious conversation—with the giant jug of Early Times that’d been waiting for us in the back of the van. The venue is packed already as Tyvek is huge in Davis and we’re also playing with local favorites the Bananas. We play first. We are really, really good. Then some other stuff happens that I don’t quite remember. The other bands are real good too, but I may have been drunk.
(Keep reading, there’s more involving unicorns getting arrested, pineapples dressing like people, and Teen Wolf.)
After loading out, Pete splits off from the smarter, more worldly Coolouts. Hoping to find a better party than our pizza and Wii fest in Sacramento, he (as we understand it) links up with a like minded 19-year-old male chum and attempts to bring the first night’s choking game to California. When it doesn’t work, he calls Lacey for instructions, which also don’t seem to work. Meanwhile at Martin and Melissa’s, the rest of the Coolouts are happily stuffed on pizza and frozen TGI-Fridays mozzarella sticks playing Guitar Hero. Back in Davis, the choking game having failed, Pete and his new barely legal buddy had set out in search of Whip-Its when they noticed a neon sign in the window of an apartment that read “PARTY.” Not ones to look a gift horse in the mouth, they walked up to the window to inquire about the “PARTY.” Long story short, they ended up in the party, but the party turned out to be 12 college dudes dressed up like Jim Morrison drinking a flat keg and playing beer pong.
After retrieving Pete from his Davis crash pad and lightly snacking on tacos, we set out for Oakland and Budget Rock. Being that the drive is short and Oakland was so good to us last time, spirits are very high. On our way to Oakland we catch wind of a BBQ at the Cereal Factory. This is where we played last time down. An old house with the basement turned into a show space with the back yard serving as the BBQ pit/mingling space. This is Coconut Coolouts’ paradise. Jason, the Cereal King and a whiz with pulled pork, greets us and informs us that he’s cooking hot wings and ginger-sesame beef. Mouths watering, we start in on some beers while a few of our friends start showing up. By 3 the food starts getting consumed and we are getting nicely buzzed. Nuckinfutz was first in line for the Party Jail when we pulled up to the Stork club, the spot for Budget Rock. We are loading in and getting our bearings and meeting with old friends and having a generally good time. Show time is 6:15 but I think we went on at 7. The set is killer. We knock ‘em dead and have a total blast in the process. Two songs in, Ruben informs the crowd that the taco truck has arrived. The crowd goes wild as do we.
All four nights of the Budget Rock fest a taco truck was parked out in front of the Stork Club until 2 or 3 am, making for great drunk food and a real party atmosphere. At some point in the night, I remember wanting a taco and walking to the front of the club and hearing someone yell “Teen Wolf is surfing the taco truck!!!” Saturday night was a costume party/contest and our pal Cousin Brian, in the Bay area on business, had dressed as Teen Wolf. I went outside to see him on top of the thing going “YYYYEEEEAAAAHHHH!!!!” and the whole sidewalk full of partiers chanting “WOLF!! WOLF!! WOLF!!!” Hilarious. After security helped him down we went to Kim’s Backyard for baby-bird shots—that’s right, just like it sounds. The night was headlined by old Boston band the Real Kids. Depending on who you ask, they ruled.
After the show, we were told about a party somewhere in Oakland. We caravaned to the party and continued partying. We pulled up in the van after picking up a bunch of beers and a couple of coolers and descended on what we hope is a typical Oakland houseparty. Right away a couple of guys in cop outfits ran up and “arrested” a drunk girl in a unicorn costume. Inside the party there were three bands playing: Traditional Fools (who played in 15 minute intervals), Gentlemen Jesse and His Men, and Photobooth. All were awesome and as the night wore on the Coolouts danced, partied and began to black out. Ruben climbed on a car and screamed “I am the night owl, I don’t care who, when, what, where, or how…. whoooo!” and then he fell down. Peteza Party was working the room and was in some serious party jail. Out back there was mass booze and coke can pot-smoking, and as it got close to dawn the Coolouts jumped back in the van and made our way back to the Cereal Factory. Upon arrival, we shotgunned beers on the street in front of the Cereal Factory. Tyvek crashed in the Cereal Factory and the Coolouts crashed in our van with the Early Times’ whiskey. And then there was sleep. Why doesn’t Seattle party like this?
Round noon the band wakes up and some people shower while the rest of us sit around waiting for breakfast. We gather up our stuff and go to Bacheeso’s in Berkeley and get into some serious buffet eats with Jason and Jesse. Since we had some time, we made plans to go into San Francisco and do some shopping. We joked that we were now World’s Premiere shopping band. After eating breakfast and counting our money, Ruben exclaimed “Lets go SHOPPING!!!!” Said goodbye to Jason, Jesse and Samantha, climbed in the van and headed for San Francisco. Lacey turned around, held up a key and asked “Guess what this is?” Befuddled, we all said “What?” “A key to the Cereal Factory.” We were elated. We got into SF around 3 pm and immediately started chattering about shopping. Pete was looking for new shades, Lacey wanted to go to H & M, Ian wanted records, Dean wanted shoes, Ross wanted vodka, and Ruben wanted everything. We parked in a parking garage and ate some great pizza at Captain Slappy’s Original Whatcha-ma-Pizza and Taco Hut. Don’t look for it—it’s already closed.
The weather was nice and walking around in SF was very pleasant. Dean got his shoes. Ian napped in the van and farted up a storm. Ruben got pooped on by a pigeon. We went to Golden Gate park to look for pot and/or acid and mushrooms. We came up mostly empty handed but Ross met a dude who handed him a bag of unidentified pills. We promptly gobbled them and began the party. Plans were made to visit the Tonga Room later. The Tonga Room is a tiki bar in the basement of the Fairmont Hotel in San Fransisco’s Nob Hill area. The place is something else with a lake in the middle of it where is rains from the ceiling every half hour and from 8 to midnight a Hawaiian band lays on a boat in the middle of the lake. We parked the van outside the club, loaded in and began the 12 block walk to said bar. We poured over the menu of very high priced exotic drinks such as the Lava Bowl and the Pineapple Owl. We ordered and the service was prompt, all the drinks being very strong and we had mass fun taking pictures and dressing up the Pineapple Owl like Heath from Tyvek by putting Dean’s glasses on it.
We each ordered 2 drinks and walked out with a hefty buzz. When we’d had our fill of the tiki bar, we headed back to the club to meet up with Tyveks and the Smilers for our glorious tour finale. For a bit of background: Last time we were in San Francisco we played two nights, one at the Hemlock and then another at the Knockout. Between the two shows we made piles of money, played to a ton of people and learned the nuances of a shot that the bartender at the Knockout called the “Broseph.” It was an amazing time that we were ready to relive with our tourmates on our last night out together.
Unfortunately, our outlook on our draw in San Francisco was a tad optimistic. While we played (yet another) searing set, as did both Nice Smile and Tyvek, we somehow managed to make $8 on a door that was charging $7 a head. The Professor (Ross) may have had a better idea of how the show was going to go, as he had prepared himself with an ample supply of vodka which he took care of out in the van. In any case, after the show, Pete took Damon (from Tyvek) across the street and introduced him to the Broseph. We finished the evening with our (now) good friends by doing the classic group photos out by the van. Everyone was lovey-dovey (read: pretty drunk) and we swapped records and made plans for our next party-time-tour fun together.
The Coolouts hit up El Faralito for some late night burritos, then retreated to our friend Kaliisa’s place out in the Mission, where I somehow managed to drink a last beer before falling asleep with my friends.
We woke for our last day in California. All our tourmates were gone, except Heath, who was riding up with us back to the Northwest. We had a slightly uncomfortable discussion about the physical dangers of eating another round of Mexican food but gave in and headed out to our favorite taco window in the Mission. After breakfast we were a little too hungover to figure out what to do with ourselves in San Francisco, so we decided to head to Davis a little early (maybe try to do some shopping!) and meet Pete’s mom for dinner. When we got to Davis we belatedly realized there was much less to do there than in San Francisco, but we tried to make the best of it. Everyone piled out of the van at a McDonald’s for a bathroom break and ice cream cones, and now that we had Heath with us the head count was upset, so Lacey nearly drove off before realizing she’d left Harry Steamsystem (Dean) playing in the ball pool at the McDonalds’ Funland.
Next up was thrift shopping which was mostly unsuccessful aside from the 20 terrible VHS tapes that Nuckinfutz picked up for his collection and the “Space Party” poster that Peteza Party found near the back of the store. It was still early. We went to a strip mall next to meet up with Pete’s mom. The strip mall was home to Mountain Mike’s Pizza and Java Joe’s Coffee but what we were really for was a Toilet Bob’s. We settled for Wok of Flame, where we met Pete’s mom and step dad for a lovely dinner. I ate fried shrimp. Ian saved himself for Taco Bell. After that we headed to KDVS to do a live radio broadcast
on the show, hosted by DJ Rick, called Art for Spastics. KDVS is located at the old and
probably haunted University there in Davis, CA. I say haunted due to the fact that the pinball games they had in their student union seemed possessed, cursed even. They would not let us stop playing them. When we tried to stop our fingers would get cut by the flipper buttons or the plunger. Downside was the injury, the upside, unlimited pinballing! High scores and free games for all!
The radio show was a good time. Our pals Martin and Melissa were there and the engineer was a nice dude. We played a blazing set, short but sweet, did an interview and made some radio requests. We had DJ Rick play songs by Donny Denim, Butthole
Surfers, and HEAD. As soon as the show was done, which was a rather long while due to all of the phone calls and questions the station was getting because of our performance, we headed out to Redding to find the fabled “cheap two bedroom motel.” After hours of driving, Amazing Barnanas eating Del Taco, and general boozing it up (not the driver, though. Harry stayed sober, yet sleepy until we hit the room), we found…not the right place to stay but a cheap place to stay run entirely by old women who surely must’ve been witches. We watched bad TV and drank the rest of our Early Times and Jim Beam. Good night nurse! The next morning we ate a celebratory breakfast at the IHOP. Ian and Heath from Tyvek went to Del Taco (again!!! I know…) and did some snooping about at the Ross Dress for Less but they did not find anything in their size.
The ride back home seemed short enough. Amazing Barnanas backside gas was giving
us all a case of the “get me out of heres.” We dropped Heath off in Portland, his new home and ate some burritos at our favorite taqueria there called La Sirenita. Last stop, Seattle, home. We had a last hurrah at our hang out, the Malabar Room, where we ate pizzas, played pinball, watched Revenge of the Nerds and Bachelor Party, and drank Robitussin.
This is the life. The End.