Performer: Screaming Trees
Songwriters: Gary Lee Conner, Van Conner, Mark Lanegan
Original Release: Sweet Oblivion
Year: 1992
Definitive Version: None
Scott and I had such an
excellent time in Toronto in 1992 (story or stories to come) that we decided to
do it again the next year, and the destination was obvious: Seattle. I always
wanted to go anyway, but now that it was the music capital of the world, that
added emphasis to the decision.
Although Seattle might have
been the destination, it was never going to be the whole of the trip. The plan
was to fly to Seattle from Chicago and then drive back and see everything in
between. Scott liked it. In retrospect, that trip was too rich for his blood.
He was only 21 and still in college. But at the time, he wanted to do it. The
whole adventure has been immortalized as The Seattle Trip.
So I booked the flight for
July 1993. A one-way flight was, like, $500 per person. A round-trip was $200.
I booked two round-trip flights, and we’d just unfortunately miss the return
flight. (Accidents happen.) Because this was pre-9/11, you could do stuff like
that. The airline had its money; it didn’t care. Then I booked the rental car.
As I mentioned, the first
part of the trip—at least for me—was a weekend in Chicago for the National. I
did my usual forced turnaround on a Thursday, getting up at 11, which was a
little earlier than usual, to drive to Chicago, so Dave and I could have some
card show time that night. This fact would be important later.
We stayed with Jin, and
although we didn’t have to deal with any funky roommates this time, we were on
the clock. Back then, the National was a big deal, and card companies held all
sorts of press announcements. Because Dave and I were card columnists for The
Journal, Dave wanted to hit them all—including Donruss’s 7 a.m. breakfast to
announce its entry into the hockey-card market. Working on 2 hours’ sleep, I
was nonplussed, but, like the man said, I’ll get all the sleep I need when I’m
dead, so I agreed.
Actually, I remember the
press conferences better than I do the actual card show. The Score press
conference featured the company proudly introducing Alexandre Daigle, the No. 1
NHL draft pick that year and the next hot thing, as official spokesmen. He had
been well-coached by the company, because when Dave asked him what cards he
collected when he was a kid, Daigle said, Score cards. Score had been in the
business only the past three years. Daigle was only 18, after all, but still …
Anyway, that night, we went
to see the White Sox, accompanied by Jin, which meant another long day and late
night. By Saturday, I was pretty whipped after getting a total of 14 hours the
previous three nights. No matter, Scott was driving from Indiana that day to
pick me up at McCormick Place and head to O’Hare. I was jacked up.
As I recall, traffic was
brutal on the Kennedy until we got to the Junction, but we gave ourselves
plenty of lead time to park the car in a distant lot. Back then, security was a
quick walk through the metal detectors, so that wasn’t a problem.
I booked the least expensive
flight I could. We flew to Minneapolis, where we had a bit of a layover and
then changed planes to Seattle. By the time we got to Seattle, it was after 10
p.m., which meant it was after midnight, Chicago time, and 1 a.m., according to
my body.
We jumped in the car and
headed off to the hotel, which we hadn’t prebooked. Scott had a specific hotel
in mind on the other side of Lake Washington, but I just figured we’d find
something after we got away from the airport, a Red Roof, anything.
It turned out that there was
nothing along the way and soon we were driving through downtown Seattle. OK,
let’s try the burbs. There has to be something. Nope. We made a loop around Lake
Washington. We stopped twice. One place was too funky; the other was too
expensive for Scott. Scott kept saying, let’s just go to the place I found.
Finally, after at least an
hour of driving around Seattle, we found Scott’s place and called it a night.
All the while, we had KND on the car radio, which played almost nothing but
local music. Of course, in Seattle, local music meant Pearl Jam, Nirvana, Alice in Chains, Soundgarden and, of course, Screaming Trees, so it wasn’t all bad.
When we hit the rack, it was
about midnight local time. I was zonked, and tomorrow was a big day.
(To be continued)
No comments:
Post a Comment