#New Potato Caboose

[krispyweiss]

Phil Lesh and Elliott Peck Prove Music Heals in “Clubhouse Sessions” Episode 3

There is a music-as-elixir subtext to Phil Lesh’s third “Clubhouse Sessions” video.

The first example comes from Lesh himself, as the 84-year-old former Grateful Dead bassist and liver-transplant and cancer survivor leads this group of Friends on his early-Dead oddity “New Potato Caboose.” Not only is Lesh still playing and singing, he’s still enamored with the experimental ethos that underpinned the Dead's long, strange trip even as songs such as this wound up in dry dock.

The second comes with the appearance of Elliott Peck, who sings backgrounds on “Estimated Prophet.” Her segment was taped separately from the preceding numbers - the clothing gives it away - but seeing the Midnight North frontwoman emerging after recent surgery to remove an abdominal tumor is inspirational.

Lesh’s band this time out also includes singer/guitarists Grahame Lesh and Stu Allen, drummer John Molo and keyboardist Jason Crosby. Their playing - particularly Allen’s Garciaesque lead work - is top-notch, though their singing is low-rung, making the decision to attempt such harmony-dependent selections as “High Time” and “Crazy Fingers” utterly baffling while “Playing in the Band” makes perfect sense.

“Playing” surrounds the “Caboose” with a free-form improv segment that suddenly signals the latter number and subsequently bids it adieux as telltale arpeggios announce the “Playing Reprise.”

Just as these tightly executed passages belie a band that’s spent little time together, so does the mid-section of “Crazy Fingers,” as Molo begins a marching rhythm that first Crosby, on electric piano, then Grahame Lesh splash enthusiastically with sonic color.

Read Sound Bites’ coverage of the previous “Clubhouse Sessions” here.

6/10/24

[decreare]

because I commented on @titan-walls post on a s19/20 epilogue fic outline that got me thinking about the state of blood gulch, specifically Caboose, and my own ideas for an epilogue trip. Now out of everyone Caboose might be the most mature out of all them (this is slowly being flash-banged with loss so many times, not actual maturity), so he might see everyone moping, and try to do something about it. First is him cooking them all a semi-edible breakfast, second is him speaking to all of them in a more stern voice, third is stealing commands from wash and trying to do things like drills and such, all of which is overclocking his poor little brain. So I imagine the rest of blue team as follows: Wash is doing art, terrible, depression art of all the people that died. This wouldn't be so bad if Caboose didn't seem him crying while making them (and art is supposed to make you happy!-Caboose). Carolina is a "blood gulch hunter", meaning she goes around trying to find animals to fight but instead ends up in the caves, where she is constantly reminded of her past as a freelancer and with the Director. Mostly screaming in them all day. Tucker is just becoming Griff, with added lonely masturbation jokes. Simmons is probably pretending everything is normal, trying not to pin over his not-boyfriend and painting a sack of potatoes orange. Now after Caboose ask Simmons for leadership help in trying to drag Blue team out of being sad sacks (something that constantly reminds him of Griff) and some depression adventures, Caboose remembers Tucker has a kid. "Let's go see Tucker's alien baby!" (Maybe we can handwave that Sheila somehow became a ship and lopez her pilot, finally married, but still having to deal with all the idiots) so now rvb road trip, they visit Junior, Catch up with Donut along the way, an old bar that the freelancers used to visit and finding some of them ALIVE (and giving wash some advice on moving on), Carolina's old home which they all burn down, and finally Hawaii have Simmons talk to Griff kicking and screaming. Sister is there and gets turned on by Tucker being depressed. Throughout all of this Caboose is talking with the mental versions of his dead friends in his head so we might hear him speak in a pirate accent once or twice or pretend to be a girl. Standard Caboose fridge horror. I could see the end being them going to the moon to visit Caboose's family, and realizing that they all have each other, even if they can't be there mentally. Caboose asking if they all want to still go home and they find a new valley with two boxes in the middle of nowhere. The ghosts of Church and tex and all that died watching on.

[lynnedwardswrites]

Get To Know You

Le Picrew

I was tagged by @writernopal @indecentpause and @vcaudley ! I feel like the caboose to this wagon train lol

3 fun facts about me

- In high school (long time ago) I went to a national competition for TV broadcasting. We had to shoot and edit a commercial in 12 hours or something. My team did not win.

- The first thing I did after buying a house was paint the walls of my bedroom chocolate brown and the ceiling metallic gold (and damn does it look good).

- My grandmother made a career out of being a landscape painter, and my mom is big into sculpture. I'm the third professional/semi-professional artist in a row.

Favorite Season

Autumn all the way. It's cooler than summer, lusher than winter, and prettier than spring. Also my birthday is sometimes on the equinox.

Continent where you live

North America. I'll go farther. The Jell-O Belt.

How do you spend your time?

Most days I write until my brain quits and then play video games with my husband and son (Factorio, Minecraft, Valorant, among others). I am also known to get into an art project, like knitting, painting D&D minis, woodworking, digital art, and so forth.

Are you published?

Yep! I have a whole slew of woodworking articles I've written for Fine Woodworking Magazine, mostly digital exclusives on their website. I was fairly well known in that community for a couple years. They'd talk about me on their podcasts. They'd talk about these:

Introvert or extrovert?

I used to think I was an introvert but then I discovered I was actually deeply lonely and poorly socialized. The braver I've gotten about putting myself out there and meeting new people, the happier I've gotten.

Favorite meal?

It probably involves a juicy piece of meat (fried chicken thighs, maybe), some butter-dunked vegetables (asparagus), and potatoes (fries?). But if my husband is cooking, it could be jewel chicken with pistachio pomegranate rice, or "Halal Cart" chicken with the yogurt sauce, or chile releños, or chicken korma, or homemade mapu dofu.

Or maybe it's just sushi. I never say no to sushi.

Tags

I genuinely feel like the last person to do this, but if I'm not, and you haven't, join the fun!

[zponds]

The Genie Team - Season 9 - “The Tragedy of Penn Central” (part four)

Even though Penn Central was formed on February 1st, 1968, problems already began as rivalries from before boiled into Penn Central, as management from both the NYC and PRR barked at each other like wolves over how to run the railroad… the NYC management wanted to modernize and innovate the network and the PRR management wanted to do things the old way. And this bickering boiled down to the employees, and it got so bad that the green team (NYCS) and the red team (PRR) bickered over what to call a caboose. And even before New Haven was added, Penn Central began loosing more money… and things only got much worse once New Haven was incorporated into the merger on January 1st, 1969, and with that, New Haven’s financial crisis boiled into Penn Central. Another major bloodline for the railroads was transportation of food from farms, but a Penn Central train full of potatoes arrived at its destination extremely late and the potatoes were spoiled and rotten, and that lead to farmers turning to trucks, which in turn, worsened the railroads’ financial maelstrom. Now that train arrived extremely late because the railroad lines were deteriorating, which was caused by the railroads to save money as they were losing it due to the public’s ever increasing betrayal. And that negligence of maintaining track conditions continued on, creating expensive derailments, which lead to even more lost money. If that wasn’t enough, the ex-NYC and ex-PRR management groups continued to bark at each other like wolves over how to run the railroad, and it got so bad that a lot of the ex-NYC people left and went job-hunting, and NYC President Alfred E. Perlman was ousted when PRR President Stuart Saunders gave into the pressure of the Pennsy’s bitter old men like a wimp. And on top of that, Saunders gave into EVERYTHING that unions wanted, which was another factor that made everything much worse. And if all that wasn’t enough, Penn Central was also losing money due to unprofitable passenger traffic, now Penn Central was desperate to shut those down in order to avoid losing money, but sadly, the evil ICC refused to allow Penn Central to shut down passenger services, and the evil ICC forced Penn Central to keep those unprofitable passenger services active… and with all this combined, Penn Central was losing a million dollars EVERY SINGLE DAY. And it all finally came to ahead on June 21st, 1970… Penn Central gave up on its initial struggle and declared bankruptcy of nearly 400 million dollars. At the time, this was the largest bankruptcy in history, and it was a major un-ignorable wake up call that the railroad networks in the Northeastern USA were rapidly deteriorating, and if not dealt with quickly enough, would have disastrous economic consequences. So on May 1st, 1971, Amtrak was officially founded and took control of all passenger services, especially intercity passenger services. That did help in getting passenger services off Penn Central’s back, but their problems remained and even worsened as the 1970s slowly carried on. By 1974, Penn Central made and released a 30-minute video showing the rapidly deteriorating condition of their networks as they were desperate for federal funding to improve their lines and services. Things didn’t actually begin to improve until April 1st, 1976, when Conrail was formed and took over much of the Northeastern rail network, and slowly, Conrail made a profit and brought the Northeastern rail system back into profitability and operational condition… mostly thanks to the Staggers Act of 1980, which no longer made the evil ICC a severe hindrance. But the tragedy of Penn Central left its impact on railroading history as the New York Central System and Pennsylvania Railroad, the two most famous railroads in the Northeastern USA, became no more and are nothing more than distant memories. And Penn Central’s disastrous bankruptcy officially and sadly declared the end of the golden age of American railroading.

[blazicreative]

Blog Post 7: Google Map Essay

Family Dinner at Cousin Kia’s

I awoke to the morning star in Hotlanta, Georgia; it shined bright through my sassy female sibling Mia’s room with such dominance over the day. It glazed the crest white walls and the caramel colored carpet, representing the beginning of a beautiful day in the new Motown. My sister’s town house filled with the annoying, yet exciting chatter of my little cousins Chrissy, Skyler, and Dylan. All of them projected the attitude of being overjoyed about the family dinner that would happen at 2pm that day. Even I starved for the family unity that had abandoned our domain.

My older sister Mia; my older cousin Tammy; my younger cousins Chrissy, Skyler, and Dylan; and I packed in my sister’s -- knee-cramping apple red Cobalt with its heat absorbing, skin singing black interior-- to head to the store. We arrived at Kroger’s packing more adrenaline than a Heavy Metal band at a rock concert to obtain various kinds of colorful fruit, sweet nectar, and essential nourishment to digest in the empty stomachs our souls possessed. I loathed Tammy for taking so long in the store; in fact her apathy in choosing goodies became a factor as to why this part of the family would be late to dinner that afternoon. Finally, after much glaring and grumbling, everyone finished with shopping. Our little posse in its little red caboose of a car was now on the way to Kia’s house.

Finally, back on the gray and yellow striped road, Mia decided to take a shortcut to nowhere. In a dead zone where time seemed to fall away, I glanced at the time which screamed “2:17 pm!”. Mia doomed us for lateness as she tried to search for a shortcut to Snellville, Georgia, a name whose ironic pronunciation was not lost on me. Two hours late, and famished for family and food, the driver and the passengers of the seemly doomed red Cobalt arrived at Kia’s house.

As the gang of tardy delinquents I strolled into the combined kitchen and living room, separated only by tile and carpet, my mother greeted us with kisses, hugs, and nothing but repetitious questions pertaining to our tardiness. Our Auntie Betty and our cousins Kia, Brandon, Daron, and Antonio also greeted us by taunting and boasting of how they ate up all the food. That made us angry because our tongues hung out our mouths like salivating dogs ready to pounce on food. After all the “jokes” died, the Cobalt gang and I gazed at the stove ourselves only to discover plenty of cold food. I could not even smell the meatless ribs, the still baked beans, watery shrimp potato salad, and hard corn muffins. I forced myself to warm everything to my liking. Upset and famished, I knew, nothing would be quite the same after being reheated; If only the gang and I had got there earlier! I sat down to eat at the rectangular table and perched on a rickety stool. Everybody in the house made an obscene amount of noise as they cackled, prattled, and finally snored off their hardy meal. My little cousins laughed over the silliest, slightest things, and my mother and sister bickered nonsensically.  Unfortunately, I leered over into the living room only to detect Antonio switching from one football game to another as if he could not have found a decent movie for everyone to watch! Grambling to myself over my tepid food and rock solid corn muffins, I imagined the heaven that would be to eat in comfortable silence without so many people and so much activity. I dreamed of how wonderful all that would be coupled with hot, fresh off the stove food steaming from my overstuffed plate. As my uncle snorted and woke himself up, he pulled me violently back from my blissful thoughts. I glared at my family, so loud and boisterous, and saw all the love and camaraderie emanating from their shrill voices and grumbling. Over all the foolishness, I realized how truly lucky I was to have my heart warmed by so much love even as I stared down my plate of frigid food.

[theloniousbach]

TERRAPIN CLUBHOUSE #5: PHIL LESH with Stu Allen, Holly Bowling, David Bruzza, Alex Koford, and Grahame Lesh

This was a special episode for two related reasons. Firstly, PHIL LESH had a specific programmatic plan to go back to some of the very early Grateful Dead experiments which required conferences which were like graduate seminars wherein he explained the histories and hows of China Cat Sunflower in a different key would lead to The Eleven which also had a groove in 12, how the intricacies of Anthem of the Sun deep cuts New Potato Caboose>Born Cross-Eyed worked.

Then, almost certainly related, Lesh’s bass playing was as wonderfully idiosyncratic and prominent as it was back in the day when he and Jerry Garcia were leading one another and the band onward and outward.

In the seminars, Stu Allen was the one who had obviously done the homework and had his own charts and analyses. Holly Bowling got it intuitively and on the fly and then soared with it. But Allen did impress me too as I saw the work he puts into it. Alex Koford was very solid on the drums, but not John Molo. Grahame Lesh too handled the structure and intricacies well.

David Bruzza from Greensky Bluegrass joined for the closing Going Down the Road Feeling Bad which, besides the And We Bid You Good Night instrumental figure, sang a typically wobbly verse or two.

https://youtu.be/BdyTvFa4oe4?si=XqhURyvFcEymoYV4

[travelingtheusa]

LOUISIANA

2024 Apr 5 (Fri) – We went into the lodge at 5:30 p.m. for fried catfish dinner.  It was OK.  The pieces of catfish looked weird and were dipped in cornmeal.  They seem to prefer cornmeal to flour in their fried food down here in the south.  They had a band playing on the stage and the place was packed.  This Elks Lodge is doing very well, although the bartender told us they had 2,000 members at one time.  Not so many now.  Just like all other lodges.

2024 Apr 4 (Thu) – We packed up and left the Leggetts at 11 a.m.  It was less than 2 hours to the Shreveport Elks Lodge.  There were six parking spaces designated as RV sites.  Ha ha ha.  This must have been done before RVs had slideouts.  It was extremely tight.

      This has to be the biggest Elks Lodge we have ever been to.  There is a huge swimming pool with two slides and a kiddie pool.  They have a train caboose converted to a bar.  There is a large pond in the back with lots of woods and grassy area.  Inside the lodge, they have a very large party room adjacent to the large bar/lounge area.  Yet, we only paid $25 a night.  That’s what I’m talking about!

2024 Apr 3 (Wed) – We stayed around the camper all day.  I worked with Linda to sew a few things.  Paul helped Johnny around the place to include a good, long ride on a mower.  He got his fix!  We watched the sunset from the boathouse and shared our fellowship for the last night.  Tomorrow, we move.

2024 Apr 2 (Tue) – We worked around the camper today.  I have been sending emails out to campgrounds and venues in Michigan and Wisconsin for our caravan next year.  It is a little disheartening.  There are areas that are so popular that there are no sites available.  The EAA airshow is especially hard to get near.  I hope we can pull this caravan off.

      In the meantime, Johnny’s Louisiana caravan has been approved and is posted on the SMART website.  Paul is working on building the route and getting pictures to post on our video promoting the caravan.

2024 Apr 1 (Mon) – Paul and Johnny rode to Monroe to pick up Johnny’s new truck.  It turned out not to be the color they promised (charcoal grey) but he took the truck any way.  Depending on how the light hits it, it can look grey or brown.  In the meantime, Linda and I went into Ruston and I shopped for capris and shorts.

2024 Mar 31 (Sun – Easter) – We wanted to go to church but the Methodist Church in Chatham closed permanently.  We weren’t sure about Jonesboro either.  So we had our own service.  We went out to the boathouse where Linda sang hymns and I read from the bible.  It was very nice.  Then we had a delightful meal of baked ham, sweet potatoes, collard greens, broccoli and brownies.

2024 Mar 30 (Sat) – We went out for lunch today at Johnny’s Pizza House.  As New York pizza aficionados, I was leery but it was OK.  It was like some other places where we have been.  They have several kinds of pizzas on the buffet.  Included are dessert pizzas with sweet toppings rather than cheese and meats.

2024 Mar 29 (Fri) – Linda and I went into West Monroe to buy her a dress for an upcoming retirement ceremony for their son.  They live really far from everything.  It was an hour just to get to a mall.  I like their property right on the lake with lots of trees and few neighbors, but I don’t think I would like being so far away from civilization.

      Tonight, we went to a nearby marina on the lake where they had karaoke night.  Several people were lined up to sing.  They were all pretty good.  The burgers were tasty.

2024 Mar 26-28 (Tue-Thu) – We’ve been busy catching up with each other.  Linda is recovering from a broken foot and has taken up a walking routine as part of her therapy.  We have been walking together.

2024 Mar 25 (Mon) – We packed up and left Breaux Bridge at 9:30 a.m.  It was raining along the route.  It really came down when we arrived at Johnny & Linda’s, where we will be parked in their back yard for 10 days.  We sat in the truck for about 15 minutes waiting for the storm to blow over.  When it lightened up (it never stopped raining), I got out and talked Paul into the back yard.  We were almost in place when the truck got stuck in the mud.  We stopped right there and ran the lines out.

      Johnny & Linda were thrilled to see us.  Linda had leftover chicken spaghetti.  Their grandchildren were over yesterday and she had made a large casserole for them.  We enjoyed the meal very much.  We spent the evening talking about our two caravans set for next year.  Johnny is working on a 32 day caravan around Louisiana and we are working on the 48 day caravan through Indiana, Michigan and Wisconsin.

2024 Mar 24 (Sun) – We went out to get fuel for tomorrow’s move.  Also stopped at Super1Foods to pick up some groceries.

2024 Mar 23 (Sat) – I am back from my trip to New York.  It was a quick, whirlwind trip.  My sister picked me up at the airport and I stayed with her for 2 nights.  We went out to dinner to Matsulin on Friday.  Sue went with me to the VA on Thursday where I got a new set of hearing aids.  The right ear does not fit very well.  The audiologist tried sanding the piece down but it just doesn’t fit well.  I will have to bring it back for adjustment the next time I go to New York.  That night, we went to play in Quogue to see a play by the Hampton Theater Company, Strictly Murder.  It was a nice local theater production.  Sue brought me back to the airport on Friday.  I was back in Louisiana at 6:30 p.m.

      This morning, we packed up and left Slidell at 10:35 a.m.  The drive a little over 3 hours.  We are staying at Poche’s Fish Camp.  We have been here a few times before.  It is very nice with 4 lakes for folks to fish in.  Campsites are lined up around the perimeter of the biggest lake.  We stopped at their market on the way in to get cracklins and some lunch.

2024 Mar 19 (Tue) – We drove to the post office to send off postcards to our grandsons.  Lunch was back at the Southside Café.  We hadn’t intended to eat there but a few wrong turns brought us back there.  The food wasn’t bad.  Afterward, we stopped at Home Depot so Paul could get some parts, etc. for projects around the rig.  I will be flying back to NY tomorrow.  It’s a quick trip for 3 days – fly out on Wednesday, go to the VA on Thursday, fly back on Friday.  Move to the next campground on Saturday.  It will be a fast few days.  I will be staying with my sister, Susan.

2024 Mar 18 (Mon) – We went out for lunch to Southside Café.  It is apparently owned by a former Marine.  There were tons of military paraphernalia around the café.  We enjoyed our meal.  Everything is soaked around the campground.  We didn’t go out much today.

2024 Mar 17 (Sun – St Paddy’s Day) – We pulled up stakes and left Eglin AFB at 9:30 a.m.  It took us a bit longer to close up than it did with the Vilano.  This rig seems to require a bit more work.  Anyway, we left and drove over 3 ½ hours to our next stop.  It rained most of the way, sometimes quite heavily.  We stopped for a quick bite to eat at a rest area about 20 miles from our destination.

      We arrived at the Elks Lodge in Slidell around 1 p.m.  This is where our high adventure began.  As I said, it had been raining heavily.  The campground had laid down gravel in their parking area.  Their six campsites all back up to a pond, with another one on the opposite side next to a pavilion.  When Paul tried to back up into the campsite, the truck got stuck in the mud.  He tried rocking the rig back and forth but he only dug the tires in deeper.  We wound up dropping the legs on the trailer and raising it so that we got the weight off the truck.  Then Paul dug around the tires and tired laying down boards.  The camp host, Lee, also tried to help.  None of that worked.  By the way, we were doing all this in a light rain.  We were all covered with mud and soaked through.

      Finally, exhausted and spent, Lee brought over a tractor.  We disconnected the RV and Lee pulled the truck out.  Then Paul brought the truck back under the RV at a 90° angle.  He then dragged the RV sideways.  It came along and we were out!  We then chose a different site to back into.  We were finally set up around 3:30 p.m.  After set up, we went to WalMart to get groceries and more specifically, food for Sheba, since she was down to one can.  We stopped at Copeland’s for their red beans and rice.  Delicious, just as we remembered.

       We slept well.

[independentartistbuzz]

Indie 5-0 with Doug Pritchett and John Trupp of New Potato Caboose

New Potato Caboose is the popular jamband, the first to perform at Wetlands in NYC in fact, who just released their latest album It Ain’t a Thing, a culmination of their work from the start of their career to today. Together since their college days in the 80′s, the band is Doug Pritchett on lead vocals and acoustic guitar, John Trupp on drums, Don Laux on vocals and guitar, John “Red” Redling on keyboards and vocals, Michael Mahoney on bass, Tim Pruitt on guitar and vocals, and John McConnell on drums. 

We got a chance to speak with lead vocalist Doug Pritchett and drummer John Trupp about It Ain’t a Thing and everything that went into it’s creation, from the inception to the final product. So, without further ado, let’s dive in:

You just released your newest album It Ain't a Thing, which you recorded in Dave Matthews Mansion. What was that like?

It was absolutely incredible. A dream come true. We all lived together at Haunted Hollow and had the pleasure of being completely focused on the music and the vibe. So whenever it came time to lay down the tracks, we were pumped up and ready to throw down. We worked 10-12 hour days being all in on the songs. But we also had the opportunity to hang and spend time together and become better friends. The studio is amazing and we were able to dial in and get the sound just right. Our producer, John Alagia, is world class and lead the project perfectly. He knew just when to step in and when to just let us fly.

The amazing John Alagia produced It Ain't a Thing. How did you connect with him? How did you get him interested in the album?

We go way back with John. He came up in the Mid-Atlantic music scene with us and was familiar with our sound and progression. I was in his band, Derryberry and Alagia, in the 90s and recorded numerous albums in their studio in VA. I stayed in touch and watched his progression from local phenom to world renown platinum selling super producer. When I asked if he would take on producing his old mates he surprisingly gave an enthusiastic yes! It was a truly remarkable and memorable experience for us all. It Ain't a Thing was a crowdfunded album. What was that experience like for you? After all these years as a band it must have felt great to get all that support from your fans.

The incredible support from our fans, friends and family was humbling and inspiring. It provided even more musical fuel on our already fired up spirits. It was initially unusual for us to go “hat in hand” and ask, but we soon realized that folks were eager to contribute and be on the inside and forefront of the creation of this album. It’s energizing for fans to have skin in the game and feel like they made a difference. Let me tell you, they definitely did! Which song on It Ain't a Thing is your favorite and why?

Well that’s an almost impossible choice because each song is like a beautiful little kitten, each with their own personality and style. I love the rootsy soulful vibe and fun message of It Ain’t a Thing, the compelling love story and feel of Georgia Angel, the complexity and meaning of Accidental Ecstasy and What’s the Real, or the raw energy and power of Hey Now Julia and New Potato Stew. And the thing is, the meaning, impact and importance of songs change from day to day over time.

Do you have any advice for other up and coming independent artists out there?

Music is a gift and you should share that gift back with everything you’ve got. It’s a privilege to perform and you should respect, honor and cherish every opportunity you have to be creative. Learn about and know who came before you and blaze new trails however you can. Music isn’t a great way to make a living but it’s a wonderful way to live a life. If you feel that musical calling deep in your soul, and you know when you do, then try your best to be yourself, find your voice, and lift spirits high.

Connect with New Potato Caboose here: Website // Instagram // Facebook // Twitter // YouTube // TikTok // Spotify // Soundcloud

[rubykgrant]

(I found this bit I wrote, then forgot about, so here it is again; Church returns in a synthetic human, slowly getting used to being alive and junk... and Caboose making a discovery!)

“I smell food out there... REAL FOOD,” Church said, in a desperate and raspy tone.

“I hope you enjoy the smell, because that’s all you’re gonna get,” Tex told him.

“Nooooo... come on, this is TORTURE!” he whined, switching immediately from trying to sound like a parched vampire, to just being pathetic. “I bet I can have real food. How long did it take for YOU to have real food? I want some real food!”

“It was a couple months before I could keep solids down. I already told you this, and Doc gave you a meal schedule. You KNOW what you can have, and right now, all you can have is yogurt and soup!”

“I’m SICK of YOGURT and SOUP! Tell everybody they’re not allowed to eat real food unless I can, too!”

Tex smirked. She knew it was hard for him; his senses were all brand-new, he couldn’t help how strongly he reacted to the smell of delicious food he’s never had the chance to eat before... but she also knew that if he ate anything that required chewing or was too rich, he’d just throw-up.

This was a struggle, and she was trying to be compassionate... but it was also just REALLY amusing when Church got all pissy.

Tex now rolled her eyes, and sat down on the bed beside him. Church tried to keep pouting, but now he could smell something besides the food; Tex being next to him was more refreshing than opening a window. She had been outside, in the little garden area on the roof of the shared apartment, so she smelled like damp earth, cut grass, and various flowers. Tex gently nudged him with her forehead, leaning over so she was now propped up on her elbow, and he finally let out a sigh...

“Hi, Church! Hi, Tex!” a voice called out to them from the door. “I was having a steak with a baked potato, and thought maybe you guys were hungry too! We saved some steak for Tex, and Church- I got you your favorite! Chicken noodle soup!”

“Caboose...” Church groaned while Tex tried not to bust out laughing, leaning her face into his shoulder. “You are a terrible tease, you know that?”

“Hmm, no, I didn’t know that,” Caboose mused.

“Now I know how Grif feels... oh shit, this is just his life all the time, isn’t it?”

“I also got you some vanilla yogurt for dessert,” Caboose added, and Tex finally cracked up.

“Y’know what, Caboose? Yeah, I’ll have some soup... but can you pick the chicken bits out for me? They’re always all chewy and gross, I don’t like them,” Church figured his stomach was going to keep groaning unless he finally put some food in there, and he would just have to PRETEND it was steak with a baked potato.

“Sure, Church, no problem!” Caboose left the room... and then almost immediately returned.

“Well, that was quick...” Tex said to Caboose.

“I remembered the other thing I wanted to tell you. Before we got the food, I got something ELSE for Church...” Caboose explained, holding up a cardboard box. He set it down on the floor, and then pulled out a helmet.

An old, pale blue helmet.

“Holy shit...” Church said quietly. “Is that mine? Mine from Blood Gulch?”

“Yes, it is. Well, one of them. There was some other helmets from other armors from other places that were yours I found, but most of them were broken really bad. I threw those away, but this one was OK, so I kept it. I used to look at it when I felt bad, and it hurt to look at it, but after a while I could look at it and feel happy. Last night, I realized I haven’t looked at it in a long time, so I wanted to check if it still made me happy...” Caboose was slowly turning the helmet over in his hands. “It did. It also made me think of Epsilon too, and that also made me sad, but a little happy because I know he’d like that we’re all together again, and we’re here because he saved us, and even though you and Tex weren’t there in the fight, he kinda saved you guys too, and the rest of the Fragments. I thought about how Epsilon would be proud of me for remembering you AND him, because I’m the best at remembering every Church I know... and then remembered something else,”

Caboose finally stopped talking for a moment, still looking at the helmet.

“What was that, Caboose?” Church asked, genuinely unable to guess where this was going.

“Well, I remembered how he wanted to say good-bye to everybody, because he wanted to save everybody. He left us messages in our helmets to let us know how he felt. So I thought, maybe...” Caboose finally looked back up at Church and Tex, smiling in a soft way, like he understood that they also might feel hurt and sad looking at this helmet, but he seemed certain that this helmet would help them. “I looked inside the helmet, and there was a blinky-light!”

“A blinky-light?” Church’s eyebrows went up.

“Yes, a blinky-light! That means there’s a message in here!” Caboose walked over, and held the helmet out for Church to take (which he did, just barely strong enough to lift it up).

“Church...” Tex was surprised as well.

“It’s probably just an old message... or one of those stupid scam e-mails we always used to get about how ‘suspicious activity’ with our credit cards. None of us even HAD credit cards! Or those calls I’d get about ‘renewing registration’ for my vehicle, and the only vehicle we had was a tank! There WASN’T any registration for Sheila! Oh wait, should we have gotten insurance for her? Huh... y’know what, I bet this is just an old recording from Vic, telling us to kill the Reds, and I do NOT need to hear that stupid little chipmunk voice of his ever again-”

“No, it’s none of those. I didn’t listen to it, but I checked the date. It got sent to your helmet the same day Epsilon sent us all of our messages,” Caboose explained.

“Oh,” Church looked down at the helmet again. Well, that pretty much settled it. Something from Epsilon was here, in this helmet that Alpha used to wear, after he forgot he was Alpha and when he first started being Church.

“I’m glad I remembered about Epsilon... hey, that was his job too, right? Epsilon was memory! Maybe that’s why he needed my help to wake up the first time, he needed somebody who was good at remembering to remind him how to remember!” Caboose smiled again, and Church couldn’t help but smile back.

[bigtstreaming]

How to Build an Empire

ello loves, here is the writing i’ve been teasing. it’s not very plot oriented (more of like a summary of certain events if that makes sense. idk just... read it and you’ll see what i mean). it’s just loosely edited because if i stare at something i do too much i will scream <3 also it’s quite long. enjoy:3

Six months and twenty-two days they have been underground or at least that’s what the tallies carved into the wall read. Six months and twenty-two days since they lost everything; everything they built from the ground up. Wilbur could still remember how the cotton of his shirt stuck to him (before he had to cut it up for bandages), as the sun poured down on him while he watched his son tear down everything he created. A few iron picks and a few hours was all it took to destroy everything they had worked for. The fear in Tubbo’s eyes as he received a heavy pat on the back, his new rank already weighing heavy on his shoulders, haunted all of their dreams. Months later, and the ghost of that hand would still be with him. 

Six months and twenty-two days since his feet bled and cried out in pain, running for miles and miles as they were chased with crossbows and swords, their heads wanted on a silver platter just in time for dinner. If he had gotten everything he wanted, he would’ve personally made sure both of their heads were stuck to each end of his horns, displaying his trophies.

Miles on top of miles they ran. Going from biome to biome to escape them, hiding behind logs and camouflaging with the leaves. The panic he felt when he thought he had lost Tommy while trudging through the Taiga was something he never wanted to experience again- how his heart completely dropped into his stomach like a boulder when his ears rang upon hearing his words.

“My first decree as the president of L’manberg, the emperor of this great country, is to revoke the citizenship of Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit.”

But that was six months and twenty-two days ago. Never again did Tommy have to worry about tripping over his laces as he ran through the tunnel of purple wood. He would never get to walk across the wooden path to his hole in the wall home. His rollercoaster would remain out of business, the tracks slowly rusting. Twigs and sticks wouldn’t scrape his legs as he ran to hide from the hunters, Techno breathing heavy as his side. The baby blue color of his eyes had fallen down, just like the country’s walls and the day’s light. The bright eyed kid he used to be was trapped under the impenetrable shell that the hardships of war had created. He banged and cried out underneath to come out, but still it remained with nothing but a scratch on it.

Six months and twenty-two days spent in their new home. Every day they spent doing all they could to survive. It had started as just a room in a hill, hidden away from the naked eye. A banner behind the door to avoid anyone seeing the light that would emit from the furnaces and torches. 

The three of them remembered the first night very clearly. They were curled up in the corner of the square room, the only light coming from out the door- the moon was shining through. Huddled together underneath Techno’s robe they sat in silence, waiting for someone, anyone, to take the risk and speak. The cheeks of Wilbur were dried with tears and Techno’s scattered with dirt. Tommy silently cried and prayed the tears would stop, but they hadn’t. As soon as they ducked in the mountain and his heavy breathing had stopped, the tears had started. He had lost all he had ever known. Not only was the country he helped build being taken over by a dictator disguised as a president, he had lost his best friend to this creature, nay monster. What hurt the most was that it was all his fault- he had pushed to allow him back onto the lands. And here he was, exiled from all he had ever known and stuck in a cave with a depressed ex-president and someone who had just entered, solely to help them. 

“We need to reestablish ourselves.” Wilbur finally spoke, his voice hoarse from dehydration and exhaustion. 

“This is our home now. We have to accept that.” He says again, his dark eyes look over to Techno and Tommy, the only way they could see the pleading look was because of the moon above.

Tommy’s palms swipe away the tears from his cheeks and he gives a small sniffle before deciding to speak.

“How do we do that, Wilbur? I mean all we have is some iron armor and tools, Technoblade, and a skeleton horse that I stole. We lost everything, we even lost Tubbo.” His voice was drenched with despair and hopelessness and went down to a barely audible whisper at the mention of his best friend.

“You've seen me fucking build a nation, Tommy, I'll do it again.” His voice pierced them directly in the chest like the arrows they narrowly escaped from had tried to just hours before. 

They quickly grew out of this room and had to move deeper underground, not only for expansion but for safety. It wasn’t hard to get a layout, for as soon as they started mining they almost immediately hit the ravine. Techno called out to be careful as the stone fell dozens of blocks down, only then did he realize it was safe when he heard the splash of the rock in water. 

And so this is where they would be forced to stay, hundreds of blocks below ground. They stayed at the top of the ravine, gathering the easily accessible iron and coal, gathering around the furnace for warmth while they sat on the cold stone. For a while the biggest debate was whether or not to use their uniform jackets as pillows or blankets for the night. Empty stomachs were common and the taste of rotten flesh was something that was acquired. 

The food status was what almost broke them. Days on end their stomachs whined and groaned at the lack of subsistence, and curling in disgust when their cries were listened to- only to be met with the rancid taste of rotten flesh. Occasionally they’d crack out one of the carrots they smuggled, but those were low and they had to preserve them as long as they could, especially if they had hoped to somehow regrow them. 

Techno still recalls the way he fell to his knees in tears when he found a minecart. He tore open the chest with such force and what was in it made him yelp out in joy- melons. Three melons sat in the chest. Screw the saddle and diamond, three melons just sitting there, untouched and uneaten. Suddenly the fatigue he had felt for the last week had disappeared, and he swept everything from the chest in one foul swoop before sprinting back to his two partners in crime. 

His always steady hands haven’t stopped shaking since he ran at Tommy’s side in the middle of the woods, away from a man in full netherite and an enchanted crossbow. His head, always held up straight and strong on his head, dangled down, its eyes always on the lookout. It was a new experience for him, to live in constant terror and to be taken off the throne he was so used to living on. Kicked down onto his knees with tears welled up in his eyes, the once fearless leader had to accept what he had become; he had become a man of fear, consumed by it’s slick, fingers, carrying his around like a puppet on strings

Three melons, enough for each of them to all have one. Techno thought that the sweet and juicy taste was only a dream that his tongue had handcrafted for him to escape the acerbic and sharp taste of the flesh. But as he held the slices in his hand, he had realized that his tongue had not mistaken him because his eyes were staring right at the pink flesh. His fingertips could feel how smooth the green rind was. So, they sat in silence and slowly ate the watermelon, the slight sweetness was enough to melt them. One by one they took methodical bites, trying their best to make it last as long as possible. Although there wasn’t a lot of flavor, compared to the previous meal of undead meat, this was five stars. Wilbur swatted Tommy as he saw the boy take quick small nibbles.

“If you eat it too fast you’ll get sick, that’s the last thing we need.” He looked at the boy and his sunken cheeks that the malnourishment has caused and his heart began to crack. His skin, already pale, had gotten even lighter from the lack of sun. The darkness that took over his eyes made him seem dead. He looked as if he was going to shed his skin and become one of the skeletons they had to avoid in the cave. As much as he wanted to flick Tommy and poke jabs at the boy, he was just a kid, just a kid who didn’t deserve to be living like this. None of them deserved it, but to watch his young spirit and commitment to L’Manberg slowly fade and betray him, it made him ache. 

Techno was the one who proposed a farm. However, a farm meant going deeper into the ravine, something that was a scary unknown. They needed the water source for the watermelon seeds, and Techno calculated that with how many zombies they had killed, they should be getting a potato from them any time soon. The carrots they had smuggled when first exiled were close to becoming completely moldy and un-replantable. 

It was a tedious and daunting task getting deeper into the ravine. As much as they knew that there was water below them, they couldn’t be sure how deep the water was or what could be lurking beneath the surface. Carefully Wilbur mined while Techno was behind him, sword in hand, ready to attack anything that might come out. Tommy carried the caboose, trying his damndest to not let his hands shake their only light source around too much. 

And their system worked, Wilbur mined, Techno guarded, and Tommy reminded them that despite each other being all they had, punting the kid down into the water didn’t seem like such a bad idea. It was a long process to get down, it took them a couple nights. The sweet taste of the watermelon was only enough to keep them in high spirits for a couple days, until the small seeds in their pockets just began a constant taunt and tease of what they would only ever have once. 

But as they had done once before, they had done again and Pogtopia was becoming a reality. Carrots and watermelon seeds were sowed into the ground, small green tips peeking out of the ground and instead of everything being in overflowing, disorganized chests, their supplies were relocated to a naturally occurring, carved out cover perfect for lots of organized chests. When a couple days had gone by with absolutely no food, because none of the fruit or vegetables were ready for harvest and no rotten flesh was to be found or gathered, Techno and Wilbur had decided to brave the outside world to gather seeds and prayed that there would be some fish in the nearby sea. 

They snuck out in the pitch black night, the few stars above were the only light they had. Carefully they trudged through the terrain, quietly they broke random pieces of grass, cautious to avoid leaving a large dry spot to avoid detection. Armed with nothing but fishing poles and iron swords, they tip toed until their sore feet sunk into the grainy land and they could smell the saltwater. Tommy, alone in the cave, curled up in the pile of grass and closed his eyes. He was so hungry and sore and tired. Never in his life had he ever experienced these feelings at such an intensity, and it was getting to him. There wasn’t a day where he didn’t miss the banters with Tubbo or the nights spent sharing a steak while they planned for the future of L’manberg. How foolish he was to think that could last he thought. He tried not to beat himself up over it, for he was just a child, but he had taken this larger than life role, and he should've known. 

Wilbur carefully swung the pole and it’s tip landed in the water with a slight plop. He sat there and waited for anything to take a bite, whether a minnow or a giant tuna, he was desperate. Techno’s eyes scanned all the terrain around him, keeping watch that no one was near while Tubbo’s eyes kept darting all around the wooden room. From Niki, to the windows, to the door, to the fabric, and back to Niki, they couldn’t stay in one place for long. The oak wood walls almost felt like they were closing in on him, but he knew they weren’t because every time he had come back here he had felt the same claustrophobic feeling and every time he left, still being able to breathe. His leg bounced and Niki noticed.

“If you keep acting so on edge, Schlatt’s going to notice.” Her hands moved delicately as she weaved a needle with thread in and out of the fabric before she finished the last of the stitches. She carefully folded the last creation and added it to the bag with the other two. 

Three wool blankets, colored pink, blue, and red. As soon as she heard that they were underground, Niki knew she had to give them some sort of comfort item, knowing how cold it can get when you’re below the surface. When Tubbo had told her he was in cahoots with them, she was worried what would not only happen to them, but to Tubbo. If Schlatt finds out...she didn’t even want to think about what could happen, knowing what he was capable of. 

So she worked in silence alongside Tubbo. He would go over and drop off supplies, such as bread or wood when they ran low. Niki would help provide these along with an alibi for Tubbo because if one were to ask he had taken a sudden interest in baking and working for her at the bakery. 

“I can’t help it.” Tubbo takes the bag from Niki and is about to run out before he’s stopped. 

“Here, give them this as well.” She hands him a tin box of bread and multiple chops of mutton wrapped in paper and tied with twine that was itself tied to be a bow.

“Thank you, Niki.” He shoved them into the bag and left the bakery, careful to sneak out the back exit. 

He ran. He ran because his life depended on it. He ran because the livelihood of three people he cared about most in the world depended on it. He ignored the sweet berries that scratched his legs and the twig in his shoe that every time he moved painfully stabbed his foot. He ignored how his lungs burned, begging for a break and while he knew he didn’t have to run- Schlatt was out of town after all- but for an operation of nothing but risks, he didn’t want to jeopardize himself now.

He ran because he hoped his feet would spell out an apology and write a letter of forgiveness. Not only for his friends, but for himself- he never slept alone for the ghosts of guilt and depression lay by his side. They whispered to him all their disappointments and taunted him while he prayed for sleep to overcome him. Every day he got up and these ghosts put on the black suit and patent leather shoes. And every morning, they shined his shoes and adjusted the red tie, his eyes would be glued to the white shirt with yellow buttons in the back of his closet; the blue jacket with brown shoulder pads calling his name. 

But he had no time to reflect on all that went wrong, he had to focus on where he was going and what he was going to tell the three exiles. He and Schlatt had been gone for a couple months away on business, and he had not been able to warn them of his leaving before he was whisked away. Right at his return he decided to tell Niki. She was glad that they were safe, but her heart yearned for their safety. Schlatt had another business trip and had wanted to take Tubbo with him again, but Tubbo was able to safely weasel his way out of it.

That’s how he ended up out of breath and knocking three times on a wooden door hidden in a mountain, pausing before knocking four times. He adjusted the cloth bag on his shoulder and his eyes darted around him once more. Nothing but trees surrounded the small home in a mountain, they were miles and miles away from any civilization. The river where they’d sneak out to fish at night was quiet, only the slight movement of the water traveling north could be heard alongside the rustle of the leaves in the trees around. The area was lifeless other than the shrubbery, not even a chicken ran by. If he didn’t face the possibility of death from standing where he was, he would’ve found it to be quite peaceful.

He almost jumped upon hearing the door open but was met with the eyes of the man he hadn’t seen him months. They had the same dullness to them that they had the first time Tubbo saw them after they ran. The fear they originally held upon hearing the exile announcement had vanished, for he had now done all he could to come to terms with it. Wilbur’s hair was already quite long and shaggy, but it was now tenfold that. The messy curls were past his ears and he had done his best to tie back what he could with string, but the unruly strands had other plans. He donned the same white cotton shirt with yellow buttons as he had before along with the blue jacket with brown shoulder pads, but Tubbo could see that the once pristine shirt had it’s sleeves torn off and the once pristine white color was now shades darker. 

And he felt bad. Standing there with a freshly ironed suit and shoes so shiny you could see the helpless man’s reflection in it. They could’ve stood there for hours, staring at each other in silence, but Wilbur grabbed his arm and pulled him before closing the door and putting the banner back over it. 

The small room was practically the same as it was the first time Tubbo had seen it. But now instead of furnaces covering one wall and disorganized chests, only one double chest and a crafting table were placed. The makeshift bed made from grass, tied together with string, was no longer there. A single torch sat on the crafting table, just barely lighting up the room. What stood out to the boy in the suit was the two by one doorway with a staircase leading down. He tried not to let his attention stay at the entrance, but it was hard when he wondered what they could possibly have down there. 

Wilbur looked at the small boy and held back a giggle. He remembers laughing at how he looked in the revolutionary uniform, like a child wanting to dress up as his hero. While seeing him in the clearly custom tailored suit should’ve terrified the outlaw, it reminded him of that time, a time where . He was just a child who had gotten into his father’s wardrobe, he told himself. But deep down he knew the power he held and the danger he was in, suit and all. The menacing laugh the dictator would give out as he held his head up to the audience, instilling fear into any who ever doubted what lengths he’d go to make sure no one betrayed him.

Instead he pulled the boy into a hug, his head resting on top of him- he could smell the clean scent of the shampoo he used and the nose curling cologne he adopted from his leader. Tubbo’s face was planted directly into his chest and he held back a gag at the foul scent of him. They missed each other because as much as he was self declared at Tommy’s Tubbo and as much as Schlatt declared that Tubbo was now his, he was their Tubbo. The boy who wanted nothing more than to create something with his friends.

Wilbur didn’t want to think about how long he embraced the boy. He missed him with every fiber of his being and wanted to apologize for everything he ever said about him, but he just couldn’t find the words. Instead he let go and directed him down the stairs to the place where the three villains had poured their new hearts and souls into for the last few months. Carefully they navigated the spiral cobble steps before reaching the end. 

Tubbo’s eyes widened upon seeing the ravine, stopped in his tracks at the end of the windy staircase. The ravine was thin but seemed as tall as a skyscraper. Vines grew down from the ceiling, some with glowberries, so that those on the ground floor who looked up felt like they were stargazing. The green of the vines were the only semblance of color other than the yellow glow from the torches haphazardly placed.

The bottom was just water with lily pads scattered on the surface and thin paths of cobble and stone were at the edges of the water. Stacks of cobble and other stones were piled in corners and against walls, pebbles occasionally rolling down into the stream, creating small ripples in the otherwise motionless water. Alongside these mounds were boxes filled with all kinds of monster loot, from gunpowder to bones, they had it all.

Up above him, empty, rickety bridges swung back and forth, the structures only being held together with wood slabs and string. Their brown color contrasting the murky green strings surrounding them. From where he was standing he could see multiple entrances to different sections of the cave. 

Tubbo adjusted the bag on his shoulders, the bundles of wood were heavy on this shoulder. Wilbur was doing his best to be patient, but he drooled because he could still smell the freshly baked bread and his stomach grumbled, his nose knowing that the boy also held some mutton with him. For far too long they ate the tasteless carrots and potatoes; sometimes they’d have flavorless fish when two of the boys braved the open world at nighttime. The watermelons had just recently been ripe enough to harvest, and they savored the taste like they did that first night, but there wasn’t enough sustenance in the fruit to only eat that. 

Wilbur led him to the kitchen and dining, making sure Tubbo was careful to trip and fall into the water. His eyes couldn’t focus on just one thing, they darted all around the base. He could see glimpses of chests and barrels, the reflection of shiny iron swords would catch his attention before dulling back down. Smoke from furnaces and torches twirled up to the roof and collected at the top. The same wall that had the windy staircase was also covered in scratched in tallies, hundreds of them lined the wall.

The kitchen and dining was a naturally carved out cove filled with the warm lighting that was in every ‘room’ of the cave. It was the warmest area in the whole place, other than the smelting room which truth be told just got uncomfortably and unbearably hot. Hand crafted, poorly made cupboards and countertops lined the opposing uneven stone walls. In the corner there was an uneven wooden table and matching uneven wood chairs to accompany it. Tubbo instantly plopped the heavy bag on the table and panicked when the table began to tip. 

“You have to be careful.” Wilbur darts over to stop the tragedy, carefully maneuvering the bag so that it sat on the table in such a way to not disturb the warped sense of gravity it had. 

Tubbo peaked behind Wilbur to see across from where they were, he could see a room with deep amber chests and chestnut barrels that held all the supplies they had accumulated. He watched as Tommy emerged from somewhere above the storage room and effortlessly scaled down a set of ladders to shove some cobble in a chest that he had to use all of his strength to get shut. Behind him he could hear the clink of the bread tin and the ruffling of the wrapped mutton as the older man moved the meat into the ice box. Wilbur was about to ask Tubbo just where he managed to find bedding, but Tommy’s booming voice interrupted. 

“Tubbo!” He looks across from where he had just stuffed cobble to see the small boy in clothes meant for people three times his age.

“Tommy!”

 Their eyes lock and big grins overtake their faces. Quickly he drops his pickaxe and hops across the lily pads before flopping onto the stone in front of his best friend.

Before they had time to blink, they were engulfed in a giant hug, and Tommy smelt worse than the man before had, but it was something Tubbo just chose to look over. His blond hair too had grown out of control, but unlike Wilbur he didn’t make an attempt to tie it back. His once long and beige trousers were now muddied shorts, the torn fabric could be seen fastened around his calf, a red spot peeking through. But what stuck out to him the most was that the dark eyes he so clearly remembers seeing in the days after the exile, were slowly regaining their once bright glow. Now flecks of the light blue were sprinkled around his irises. 

Tommy led the newcomer around and Tubbo’s eyes widened upon every new thing he was shown. Never had he seen such innovation and never did he think Tommy or Wilbur could achieve such a thing. It wasn’t their first time building an empire, sure, but it was their first time truly creating something that went beyond what everyone had thought they were capable of. 

He was shown most of the base, first being a room filled with an automatic smelting machine, minecarts clunking back and forth as they picked up what resources the furnaces dropped. Coal dust coated the ground and every other surface in the room, all the smoke making it difficult for Tubbo to breathe, coughing as soon as he took a breath in the room.

“I wish I could say you get used to all that, but you really don’t.” He grabbed his friend’s arm and kept going on the tour. 

Tommy quickly skipped past the sleeping quarters, more embarrassed than anything to show him the small room with three grass and hay beds, all squeezed next to each other. While the torch in the room provided some heat, they had to sleep close because the stone walls held no warmth, especially in the winter times. Techno’s cloak lay across all the beds as a makeshift duvet. 

What really took the boy’s breath away was the longest branch from the main ravine, where if you stuck to the path it led you to a small pond surrounded by lush underground greenery. A small spurt of water would trickle into the pond, adding to the ambiance. Two giant spore blossoms were there on opposing sides, the light yellow particles seemed like glitter falling to the sky, only complimenting the star appearance of the glow berries hanging from vines. String was woven above the pond, where miscellaneous clothing items hung to dry after an attempt was made to wash them. Azalea bushes lined the back wall of the pond where the water flowed out of, some of its petals falling into the light blue water. Tommy explains how this is where they do the washing, going on about how they want to designate certain water sources for certain things, or something of that nature. 

“The dripleaf plant is a killer, we always forget that if you stand on it too long you begin to fall.” He pauses. “Okay, well I forget. Techno and Wilbur are good about remembering it.”

This wasn’t just a base or a home or a means of survival, it was an entire operation. Tubbo didn’t need to be shown the dozens of secret tunnels and rooms (not that he would be shown them anyway) to know that they existed. He knew that every plan had at least three more backups, and backups for the backups. This had gone beyond presidency and exile- everyone knew that. The second Jschlatt had taken the mic and spit out his rules, policies, and decrees, everything that everyone was fighting for had changed.

Life inside Manberg had shifted, the tensions so high a spoon would cut it too easily. Everywhere you went you felt like eyes were watching you. Eret would watch how Tubbo would jump at the drop of a pin or Fundy would notice how Niki made more bread than usual. HBomb would hear the pitter patter of feet run by and see the flash of brown hair run by, but chose to ignore it. Skeppy closed his blinds whenever he saw the young boy begin to climb a tree to get a jar of honey. But Schlatt was oblivious to these clues, while he kept an eye on Quackity and Tubbo, he wasn’t able to notice these subtle shifts. He knew Tubbo was an oddball, but didn’t realize that his leg bounced because he worried that he had brought too little bread last weekend. Or that he refused to wear shorts that one week when it was so hot it was insufferable to do anything because his legs were so cut up from falling into a bushel of sweet berries. And Quackity spent too much of his time glued to Schaltt that he wouldn’t have had the freetime to pay attention to these things. 

But as Tubbo and Tommy arrived back to the dining, tin cups of water and plates of bread on the shaky table, he felt lighter. Techno braided his hair while Wilbur spoke of something they had not been caught up on yet, grabbing butter out of the ice box. Tommy ran past Tubbo and hopped onto a chair in the back of the table (almost knocking it over) to grab a slice of unbuttered bread, Techno abandoning his task for a second to hold down the table so that the boy didn’t ruin their meal.

The cleanly dressed man had just taken a seat at the table when he realized why he had felt lighter, and wondered how it couldn’t have caught it sooner. A sense of home, safety is what he felt when he entered past the staircase. Above ground, he was a criminal betraying his leader and country, all eyes on him as he snuck around. But below ground, all those things stayed above him, something above ground Tubbo would have to deal with; he figured the ghosts could help him carry that feeling back to the base for him. Right now all he wanted to do, was tell his friends how to survive and dethrone Schlatt.

[krispyweiss]

Phil Lesh’s Latest “Clubhouse Sessions” Video is for the Musicians in the Audience

Phil Lesh and his Friends spend time between making music talking about how the Grateful Dead made music circa 1968 in episode 5 of Lesh’s “Clubhouse Sessions.”

With chatter about shifting keys and the evolution of arrangements in sometimes-technical jargon, much of the conversation is geared toward fans who also happen to be musicians.

But the Friends - guitarists Grahame Lesh and Stu Allen, drummer Alex Koford and keyboardist Holly Bowling - also play. And they, too, lean toward the Dead’s raw, late-’60s sound and repertoire on such tracks as “China Cat Sunflower,” “The Eleven,” “New Potato Caboose” and “Born Cross-Eyed.”

The band moves the timbre forward a couple of decades when Greensky Bluegrass’ Dave Bruzza pops in for “Going Down the Road Feeling Bad” and a small bite of “And We Bid You Goodnight.”

“That was tasty,” Phil Lesh says when it ends.

Read Sound Bites’ previous Clubhouse Sessions coverage here.

7/11/24

[deadheadland]

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set 2 Tennessee Jed #TxR #grateroom #thursday #winterhootanie #20190110 i Bertha Cass Cumberland Blues > gl all Thirty Days > rmfj Cumberland Blues pl Wagon Wheel Lebo There's a Train Leaving Here This Morning Greg New Potato Caboose pl They Love Each Other ak Standing With My Head Bowed Down Greg II Tennessee Jed ak rmfj Greg (at Terrapin Crossroads) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bse8NGwnwsQ/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1m2j1ne783lc9

[americanahighways]

Song Premiere: New Potato Caboose "Georgia Angel"

Song Premiere: New Potato Caboose "Georgia Angel" @thecabooseband #itaintathing #georgiaangel #newmusic2022 #americanamusic #buymusic @ArielPublicity

New Potato Caboose — “Georgia Angel” Americana Highways brings you this premiere of New Potato Caboose’s song “Georgia Angel,” from their forthcoming album It Ain’t A Thing, scheduled for release July 29.  The album was produced by John Alagia; engineered by Jeff Moxley; and mastered by Whynot Jansveld. “Georgia Angel” is Doug Pritchett on lead vocals and acoustic guitar; Don Laux on vocals and…

[yorkcalling]

Discovery: New Potato Caboose

Discovery: New Potato Caboose

American classic rockers New Potato Caboose have quite an eccentric name, suiting this quirky number well! By Jane Howkins It Ain’t A Thing is reminiscent of the classic rock and roll days of the 1950s and 1960s, featuring a honky tonk style piano melody as the main instrumentation, with the jazzy piano lines also acting as part of the rhythm. Elements of country, folk and Americana also appear…

[cinaed]

Opening Lines

tagged by @anneapocalypse!

rules:

list the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all)

see if there are any patterns

choose your favorite opening line

tag some people to play the next round

1. His first attempt at being a superhero starts out well. (we didn’t even kiss until issue 26)

2. “Turn left onto Valhalla Drive,” Carolina says, holding onto the instructions as the wind coming in from the rolled down window threatens to yank it out of her hands. (Friendly Competition)

3. “Don’t get me wrong,” Tucker says, currently in the middle of stuffing his face with pizza. (Raining Cats and Dogs)

4. There’s a certain impatient expectation that fills the school once June rolls around. (Refracted Dreams)

5. Wash comes back to school and things are...fine. (In For a Penny)

6. The school always empties out pretty quickly on a Thursday afternoon, especially the closer it gets to June. (School of Hard Knocks)

7. The internet, Samantha has discovered, is not particularly helpful when planning the first night together for your husband, your new partner, and yourself.  (assembling the puzzle)

8. Simmons is staring at him. (Fair Play)

9. “Knock knock,” Reggie says, leaning against the cafeteria table. (Party Generations)

10. Going to the Magnus Institute had been a mistake. (The Survival Variations)

11. The intercom crackles above everyone’s heads. (Food for Thought)

12. Caboose is staring at Church. (Immortal Bonds)

13. It’s Terry Junior’s idea to get a dog. (harbor, haven, home)

14. The first night on the Harvest Moon, Cheese curls up in the crow’s nest to settle in for a good night’s rest.  (to my eyes leap other horizons)

15. One of the fluorescent lights in the store’s ceiling needs replacing. (Reading Between the Lines)

16. “Today’s your first day of Driver’s Education, isn’t it, James?” Grey asks. (As the Witch Flies)

17. Grif taps a paw at the remote and changes the channel. (It’s All Greek to Me)

18. Church has never been a fan of the color purple, but each time Grey throws her diagnostic spell at him, he likes the color a little less.  (Relative Resolutions)

19. As a nod to the holiday, the last lunch before Thanksgiving break is turkey and mashed potatoes.  (The Spell Doesn’t Work Anymore)

20. Simmons stares at the ground. (Hairfluenza)

Well, I vary between short sentences of people doing something or a sentence that starts to set the scene immediately! I wonder how it would look if I did the last 20 and didn’t include my Teenage Witch AU, which definitely have a similar vibe to them on purpose....

I think my favorite is #7 because it makes me laugh, but also I enjoy the ones that are a serious understatement or slightly sarcastic, such as #1 and #10.

Tagging anyone who wants to do this!

[theloniousbach]

TERRAPIN CLUBHOUSE/DARKSTARATHON #3, PHIL LESH AND FRIENDS (Stu Allen, Jason Crosby, Grahame Lesh, John Molo, and Elliot Peck)

I didn’t actually hear Dark Star (lots of other things teased—the Let It Grow finale jam, The Other One, Truckin’, Here Comes Sunshine, and, okay, out of Mountain of the Moon, the slight possibility that Dark Star would emerge as it often did in 68-69), but this a non-stop jam.

This band also did a Clubhouse with several discreet segments, the biggest being Playing in the Band>New Potato Caboose>Playing Reprise. It served as a welcome evocation of this music, but, being song based, the vocal meh-ness, Phil down in the mix and playing more cautiously (?), and the guitar problem of evoking Garcia but not too slavishly were all more manifest.

This was a jam with risk and possibility. Phil is still not dropping bombs or putting the whole band on his back, but he was stirring the pot and amusing himself with little fresh unexpected figures. I have my bass along and even just a little bit of consciously finding the root, third, fifth, seventh, and octave of the chords of a tune gives me a sense of what he is doing. With guitar, I can just get to the chord shapes and know spatially/geographically that I hit appropriate notes. On the bass, or any single note instrument, you have to be more conscious. Phil Lesh is very very conscious and deliberate.

The segues were what mattered and, when a song emerged, it was natural and exciting. Elliot Peck was fully active and she has no vocal weaknesses, taking New Speedway Boogie and Mr Charlie on with assurance. With so much up for grabs, Stu Allen and Grahame Lesh couldn’t and didn’t play it safe. And then there was, as there usually is, John Molo driving things.

They picked up from DARKSTARATHON #2’s dissolve and rode it with the Let It Grow finale jam emerged and then dissolved until Loser bubbled up for a while. They jammed into Mountains of the Moon and then where might they go? Here was where the teases were and several were tried on before it settled on New Speedway Boogie which wasn’t a big second set jam tune but it always had possibilities. China Cat Sunflower was jammed before becoming a song itself and then jammed out but they resisted the easy choice of I Know You Rider for Peck’s punchy Mr Charlie. They smiled at one another with the Here Comes Sunshine theme and took it for enough of a ride to give DARKSTARATHON #4 something to work with.

https://youtu.be/lAtsjRcsZxs?si=SxFAFx8wTbVCfvZz