Journey with us now over the next 10 days into the heart of North Carolina. Vinegar BBQ, lots of colleges, a little bit of Blue Ridge Mountains, and in fact the land of the Baby Hands. If nothing else we will learn the Baby Hands origin story. We are all after all sojourning in his native lands with those that have tasted with his native tongue.
Today, we have but arrived: flying into Raleigh and driving through the private north end of the airport to escape into the realm of Durham along route 70. We rendered ourselves unto our host, the Baby Hand’s older brother, Alex. He lives with his wife Jenny. They have dogs: Checkers and Babs. Checkers is all bark at first but really is a sucker for a strong rub on his hindquarters. I can relate. We ate at the Federal (pork sandwiches) and had some Foothills Pilsner and Eight Mile Milk Stout.
In a wandering spell of rectitude and discipline, Hyde, Zeniuk and Selengut have committed to playing unison long tones together a whopping six times a day. The instrumentation: French Horn, English Horn, Clarinet. Olivier Messiaen was roaming the halls of our last impromptu choral. Zeniuk, our spiritual leader in this regard, has assumed nominal and preposterous titles such as Felafel, Schwarma and Baba Ganoush. We look to him for guidance timing and knowing the correct direction to face before commencing.
Tonight we are at the Pinhook in Durham opening up for Tom Maxwell who could only be described as a heretofore Squirrel Nut Zipper. Should be good.