Pawnshop: Rhode Island, and Back Again

With temperate Jimmy "The Noise" Lee behind the wheel of the snug spiffy rental van, the rides to and from were even and uneventful, in the way that not having your plane crash is uneventful. Subsequent trips, including our recent bout up to the Mother Earth Cafe in Albany with Blind Lemon Jay at the con, have been rather more exciting. In the way that having your plane nearly crash is exciting. On this trip, no one in the back seat screamed even once, and we found several of the places we were looking for.

So on the appointed balmy Saturday night, after a late extraction from the City of Loud Mayors, Pawnshop arrived at The Green Room in Providence. The Green Room is at the nexus of a series of one-way streets, all of which go the wrong way: it's kind of magical. You have to be in a certain state of mind (crabby) to actually get there. Cell phones, we note, have completely changed the face of getting lost. These days after you miss the sudden unmarked left turn at the highway exit, you can call someone who knows where you're supposed to be, get detailed instructions, and then miss it again. Ultimately you have a conversation like this: "We're on a big street right now, with lots of shops ... wait, there's a sign ... no, missed it. OK, we're on South Main, and we just passed Power Street. Now we just passed Crenshaw. Now we're on North Main. Where the hell are we?" [pause] "Oh." [to the band:] "He doesn't know where we are."

The nice convenient hotel had given away our rooms, but we didn't know this yet. You can, however, get lobster rolls at McDonalds in Rhode Island. This, we agreed, is a sign that Last Days are nigh. In the van on the way up: Joe Henry's excellent record, and the new Method Man. The Noise had no patience for Mr. Cyrano's Guster CD (pooh), and at the end we had to dodge that awful Creed song several times on Providence radio.

The Green Room is a very excellent nicely turned out venue above an indoor/outdoor dance place and sidesaddle to a cool pool room called Snookers, which attracts a crowd comfortable with both Magic Hat #9 on tap and test-tube shots with little cherries on the top available every time you turn around (we didn't really want them, but she was the kind of waitress you just can't say no to). Mr. Cyrano stayed true to form and immediately proposed to the first waitress he saw, who gently murmurred something about a boyfriend and moving to L.A. in two weeks, but we're sure she'll come around. It was, after all, true love.

Pawnshop without a drummer? It's not the same, but it works. Bassist Keith Golden (resplendent in his Knicks outfit) and Jimmy "The Noise" Lee on lead electric guitar filled the rhythm role with confident power and supple aplomb. The band led off a late evening with the traditional set-starter, "Wild Rose," and before long the bartendress was waving her lighter during "Temptation" and yelling "Get naked! Woo-hoo!" at a nonplussed crowd. <--- true

We found another hotel. When we say "hotel" we're using the broad definition of the word. It was tricky to find. We didn't know there were still dirt roads in Rhode Island. They advertise HBO, but the TV didn't work. Right about here there would be a picture of the band at The Green Room if Mr. Cyrano's camera battery hadn't died after just three frames. He did get one shot, but it's not very good. Maybe we'll put it up anyway.

Somehow morning eventually struck. Breakfast at the North Kingston Creamery prompted a story from Sean (a Newport native) about drinking three of a 24 oz. ice cream confection called an "Awful Awful" there as a kid in order to get a fourth one free. The Noise maintained dignity during the meal; Keith ordered everything on the menu, and Mr. Cyrano held forth on Egg-Beaters (it's a cholesterol thing). The real question was, where in the world was Narragansett?

Not on Route 1 North, as it turns out. There was a warm mystical fog dabbling at the windows of Narragansett Disc an hour later when we pulled up for our in-store appearance with local boys Dopey Lopes. Actually it turned out to be an out-store sidewalk kind of thing, which worked great -- Narragansett Disc is a very cool record store across from a very cool beach. Keith: "Cool. I've never played in a fog before." Mr. Cyrano: "I thought you guys always played in a fog." [rim shot] The Bess Eaton donut place across the way serves coffee in a cup that announces that "Christ is the Answer" and backs it up with appropriate Scripture. Eh? We set up the gear in the midst of the neo-quaint mall, acquired donuts, scouted the girls (goodness), and convinced the guy in the store that we actually were supposed to play that day.

What with the Sunday afternoon mist there wasn't much of a beachgoing crowd, but once the band started playing out in front of the store a genuine tender peace set in. The sound out front, oddly enough, was perfect; the passing crowd was intrigued and happy; Sister Somebody wanted Keith to join her church so she could teach him about Gregorian Chant; and the sultry summer beach crowd in dressed-down Sunday casual stopped and listened and in one case (hi, Ted!) pumped everyone for more detail about everything. Somehow, Web sites seem irrelevant when you're at the beach. There must be a Life Lesson there somewhere.

And so a great brief road weekend wound down with Pawnshop on the strand, gazing out at the enthralling mist, watching the surf and the surfers, the lack-of-sun sunbathers, the wanderers and the walkers. A weekend or so later Pawnshop headed back up to play J.J.'s Oasis in Newport, with drummer Ned but without Mr. Cyrano, who was sitting on a song slam judge's panel in Providence (see the Big Noise site for more about that). But that's another story.

• Clothing Item of the Month: still the tank top
• Waitress of the Month: Devon at The Green Room
• Not-In-The-Van-Please Band of the Month: Guster (pooh)
• Cheap Dive of the Month: Budget Inn of North Kingston
• Rhode Island graphic designed by: Mindy Bennett