Woke up on the couch after a surprisingly good night of sleep. First order of business was to take a shower. When I turned on my computer there was an e-mail from Jason Molina telling me to call him ASAP because he was free today and would like to sit down and talk as early as possible. I got dressed and drove over to the Panera on Peterson because it’s the only place I really remember how to get to from Jet’s apartment, and there’s free WiFi. I made the rounds, reading e-mails and sending a few IMs, and then packed up my gear and walked out to the car. From the driver’s seat with the engine idle I called Jason.
“This is Jason,” He answered.
“Hi, Jason?” I asked, like a moron. “This is Evan, from New Jersey?”
“Oh hey Evan, how are you?” He asked.
We got to some small talk and he asked if I wanted to drive over to his neighborhood and meet at a small bar he likes to frequent. I told him I needed an address and he looked it up for me. As he was searching, he mentioned how he hates going to the little spots in his neighborhood because someone is always recognizing him and he gets very embarrassed. He said, “It feels so gross. There are so many real rock stars in this city, it makes me uncomfortable when people approach me.” He found the address, for the Fireside Lounge on Ravenswood. This was less than a mile from Jet’s apartment, so I raced over there without any difficulty.
I arrived five minutes past one o’clock and sat outside waiting for Jason, who said he would be walking over from his apartment. When he arrived, clad in a sweatshirt jacket over a sweater over a t-shirt, I mentioned that I was staying on Thornsdale and he was surprised how close the neighborhoods were to one another. We went inside, grabbed a table in the front window and ordered some beers. He drank Duvel, I drank Sam Smith’s Oatmeal Stout.
We spoke for 90 minutes on the record about everything from his life and career to the city to other people I’ve interviewed for the project. He had some very cool stories to tell (not like Will Chatham anecdotes, but interesting nonetheless), and was very frank and genuine in his answers. I’ll post some snippets of the interview when I get the time. After declaring, “You know, there’s more to the music than just the music,” he smiled and said, “I think that’s a great line to end on,” before he pressed stop on my tape recorder. Afterwards, we finished our beers and chatted more about the independent music industry and different labels and their business models. He paid for my beer and thanked me for a “great fun, easy as pie” interview. He reached into his messenger bag and handed me a CD-r copy of the new, un-mastered Magnolia Electric Co. album that I haven’t yet had the opportunity to listen to, but will probably in the near future. He pointed to the cemetery across the street and said, “go get lost in there, it’s fun,” and then disappeared around the corner. I got in my car and pulled into the cemetery.
The other side of the cemetery dumped me right back onto Western so it was only one or two blocks from Jet’s street. I went inside, pissed and dropped of my bags, and then got directions to Edgewater so I could walk around the area with the Double Door, Subterranean Reckless Records and some really cool trendy shops. On the way, I passed some inner-city campus with an entirely empty quad except for two lovers displaying their affection in the grass.
I parked on Milwaukee and walked up and down the street. I stopped at Reckless and picked up some records.
I drove back to Jet’s and she arrived home from work maybe five minutes after I settled on the couch to do some writing. She asked if I wanted to take a drive to Evanston so she could see Northwestern’s darkrooms, since she’s thinking about signing up for a course there on color film developing. Hopped back in the car and headed up Clark to Sheridan and into the campus. I haven’t been to Northwestern since my sister’s graduation, and haven’t walked the campus since her freshman orientation, so it was nice to be able to walk around and look at the buildings. Inside the Arts Studio, two girls were hard at work painting something or other.
Then we walked the campus for a few minutes before returning to the car and phoning my sister to ask where was a good place to eat and drink. She recommended Prairie Moon on Sherman.
Dinner was good. They had Young’s Double Chocolate Stout so that’s what I drank. The conversation centered on politics and religion mostly, it was fun. Back at the apartment, I read some travel books and commented on the author’s sense of humor and how it’s dry and sarcastic like mine. I broke out my notes from the road and read passage after passage trying to see if Jet could figure out who wrote which. Meanwhile, Jet was reading up on Scientology. So was one of her cats, Non.
Tomorrow I have another busy day. I hope you’re all well. Thanks to those who called and wished me an early happy birthday. For those of you who don’t know, the 25th of April is my birthday.
