These boots are made for sloppin'...Sloppy Joe's spring southern tour 2003 ramblings.... Please scroll down for photos  SKIP TO PHOTOS HERE...

Gather ‘round good people, if you want the news, the low-down on the travels and travails of these old Sloppy shoes…

  When we left it was cold, I mean cold.  Not this “ I got’s to put on a t-shirt cuz my tank-top ain’t cuttin' it ” kind of cold that our Southern friends refer to, but the  sub-zero, eyeball shattering variety that gives Wisconsin residents that curious edginess when they travel abroad.  With our woodsheds re-stocked and our dogs looking on with jealousy, we loaded up and set off across the ice-pack; south. 

    When we picked Jeff up he was ruthlessly picking the banjo and once we had all the Pringles and Guinness safely stowed amongst Stef’s custom pickles and my collection of disposable socks Jeff’s first banjer song started acquiring lyrics.  The old Dodge Cruise-Master ran smoothly right past that damn Flying J that held us hostage two years ago in Lebanon Indiana and carried us to our first stop in Cartersville Georgia.  After consulting with a Swami/dishwasher at the Huddle House who we initially mistook for a narcoleptic, we located the venue and found ourselves a motel.  When the front desk called and told us we should, “ cut our record “ I was flattered and told the toothless gal that in fact we had recently done just that and nowadays they were usually referred to as cds.  Well it turns out she wanted us to shut the hell up with our banjos and bass thumping and so, with heavy hearts, we did. 

  Well the Shakedown Street Outfitters in Cartersville was a fun room to play; good food,  great folks  and a 400,000 ton house accompanist that came screaming down the tracks outside every 22 minutes (the train’s whistle seems to be in the key of G so other musicians should choose appropriate keys when playing there).  We were treated to the songs of Betsy Frank before we took the stage, she’s a solid songwriter from Athens GA with a beautiful voice, check her show out if you get a chance.  

  The next leg of our journey took us to Smyrna GA where we stayed with our pal’s Phil and Tom who treated us with genuine southern hospitality we met lots of nice folks there and picked our fingers numb.  Eventually we got to sit down in the Dunham’s living room there in Atlanta and record a little radio show which was real laid back and cool.  Again we were treated with the legendary hospitality of the south.

  After astonishing the staff of a liquor store with the thoroughness of our camping provisions we purchased, the old Cruise-Master was rolling again towards our southernmost destination, Suwannee Music Park in Live Oak Florida.  Our north woods buddy Stan was following our bumper a little too closely for the liking of a certain Georgia State patrolman and was beckoned to stop.  When Stan explained that he was following us cause he didn’t know exactly where we were going the nice fellar in blue told him to hurry up and get back on the road and catch up with us and not to worry cause there was no one monitoring the speed limit for the next 20 miles.  Stan actually beat us there. 

  We were welcomed to Slopryland by our fellow Wisco-wackos Big Ed and Snake who already had a functional bar set-up. The rains in north Florida have been relentless this year, the river is way high, and the ground saturated so once the Dodge’s axles were hidden in mud we had to send for Sonny to get us unstuck.  It wasn’t 15 minutes before he arrived on his white horse (a Cat back-hoe) and the camper had been excavated.  They sure take good care of a fellar down on the old Suwannee.  As Dirty Denny says, ‘Ya gotta get to know the guys at the gate’.

  Once the various characters of this year’s Slopryland had converged and tarped out a claim in the swamp-cabbage we commenced to having ourselves a large time.  Jeff was his usual monk-of-perpetual-music self, toting five extra strings this time to keep his fingers occupied.  Aside from some avante garde, jazz,  meowing, great jams were visited on our camp by both Verlon Thompson and Jeff Mosier along with a slew of kick-ass pickers and songs.

  On Thursday morning we received our first batch of the new cd right there in Slopryland all shiny and new, wrapped in plastic straight from the cd mill.  It didn’t take long for Jimer and Snake to get rid of them all.  Our stage appearances outside of camp were well received and the response flattering.  Gosh, it seems we’re pretty darned lucky to be surrounded by such kindly folks.

  Something real magical about that place I tell you what.  We experienced so much good attitude and damn fine picking it was hard to quit giggling long enough to load ourselves back up and out into the cursed real world.  Knowing what we know about the duration of ‘all good things’ though, we eventually headed to the nearest buffet to drown post-Suwannee sorrows in crappy macaroni.

  All in all, no damages to body, mind, spirit, instruments, or the vehicle are to be noted except:

  One broken mandolin string ( purdy good considering we were toting 37 different strings on 8 instruments,( it has been said that Sloppy Joe is very well strung  )

  One broken vent window on the Dodge, again remedied through the help of Sonny’s maintenance crew

  One torn ACL and minor (four stitches) laceration suffered by cousin Josh.  Apparently Josh took very seriously market researching the proposed title of our next cd. Our experts are still reviewing Josh’s data on the marketability of ‘Touched in the Head by a Golf Cart’.

   All the way back up the country again we went with a good tail-wind to find that Wisconsin had been flirting with spring while we were gone. Mother nature can be a wicked tease this time of year up in our parts so this absence of snow may be only temporary.  My dog, who forlornly watched as we rolled away towards Florida,  has dragged up every odd chunk of road-kill she could find into the yard while we were gone in some sort of morbid, artistic protest for leaving her behind.  It looks like the Time-Life pictures of the Khmer Rouge killing fields out there and it’s probably time to clean it up so I’ll bid ya’ll farewell.  Of course, the radio is calling for snow, maybe even enough to cover it up, hmm.

Peace,

Gavin Jon  

MORE PICTURES COMING.......

CLICK HERE  to go back to Sloppy Joe home page