WE BREAK FOR JIMI
a tale from East Troy, Wisconsin
day 1 8/9/94
7:00 p.m. cntrl. ---- We're on highway 20 going east after a short train delay. When I say "we," I'm referring to Jake Lewandowski, Kurt Reinholtz, Mike Zei, Ben Matson, Justin Evans, and myself. Ben took some convincing to go, and so did his mom. Not that my parent was easy to sweet talk, but she hugged me before I left. Wayne (stepdad/goon) even tried to foil my plans. That pissed me off.
I bullshit my grandfather out of the last $60 required, and then went to Michael's Drive-In to tell everyone I was going. I'm the first person in the brief history of that establishment to have successfully ordered an extra large root beer float.
7:16 p.m. cntrl. ---- Momentarily stuck behind a tractor.
JAKE: "We're following this tractor all the way to Woodstock!"
The tractor turned off; everything's fine.
7:29 p.m. cntrl. ---- A few people acknowledged our "WOODstock DUDE!" sign.
JUSTIN: "Yeah, fuck off, bitch!"
Apparently the air pressure in the van keeps the collapsing roof up.
7:34 p.m. cntrl. ---- First smoke.
BEN: "If you're going to go to hell, at least do it right!"
Mike tried to teach me how to inhale, but Justin approves of my disagreement.
7:46 p.m. cntrl. ---- First tollbooth. The recurring joke is "Pay the troll."
BEN: "I've put pebbles in there and it accepted them."
JAKE: "Yeah, usually I just spit in the machine."
7:50 p.m. cntrl. ---- Passed Great America.
JUSTIN: "We're not stopping at Great America, Jake?"
KURT: "We'll catch it on the flip-flop!"
8:44 p.m. cntrl. ---- BEN: "Who farted!?"
TOM: "Nobody. That's the natural scent of Chicago!"
8:48 p.m. cntrl. ---- BEN: "Is the right lane reserved for black guys!?"
MIKE: "You packin'?"
BEN: "Yeah, I got the bozack!"
11:30 p.m. eastrn. ---- Entering Ohio. Still a half tank of the original gas left.
1:55 a.m. eastrn. ---- Pit stop in Toledo. The inside of my stall says "Flush twice. It's a long way to Rush Limbaugh's mouth!" I called Mom. She asked me if anyone had slept yet. "No sleep 'til Brooklyn!" I said.
3:30 a.m. eastrn. ---- Stopped in a jam. Some semi crashed into another semi and then into a cop car.
We've all lost the Zone. The "Pay the troll" joke is the only thing keeping us alive aside from Jake's stock of crackers and Justin's stock of cig's.
day 2 8/10/94
We spent a few hours in New York City and I blew all my money on t-shirts and a book. Jake confiscated the $30 from me required to help get us home. But at least I got to shake hands with Mujibur.
After we left, I commented once that I missedthe porno mag street vendors more than Adrian, my best friend back home.
day 3 8/11/94
1:07 p.m. eastrn. ---- I feel like a dead man walking around involuntarily by electrical stimulation. Mike found a girl with bleach blonde hair named Sarah. I let her read my poems.
1:03 a.m. eastrn. ---- I've been at Woodstock since about 5:00 last evening. One can't buy shit here with out official Woodstock money, and one can't get Woodstock money without at least $10. So with only $4 American, I was fucked until I met a nice man at the pizza stand who wanted to buy my ticket for $10. (You see, no one gave us our promised wristbands in exchange for the tickets. Furthermore, no one checked our bags for contraband items or enforcing rules of any kind! Ben ditched lots of canned food in the bushes at the shuttle bus station, expecting the metal detectors to be plugged in. I could've gotten in for free!!) I tried bargaining for $15 but he wouldn't budge. I figure with the $11 pizza I bought, I can eat two slices per day.
2:36 a.m. eastrn. ---- We now have neighbors. I let this girl, Tracy from Tennessee, read my stories. She's got a 26 red shirt.
day 4 8/12/94
9:49 a.m. e