We were just four kids who really loved music, so we decided to play it. So, from 1997-2000, we were Spare Change.
I was in another band when Spare Change materialized. That’s what you did back then – you got into a band. Sometimes you switched bands. Sometimes bands broke up. Sometimes you went solo and then a band joined you.
But Spare Change was something special. None of us knew what we were doing, but when things got plugged in and turned on – we were everything we needed to be.
That’s the four of us – Paul (Drums), Me (Vocals & Harmonica), Nate (Bass), Bryan (Guitar). We all came up in the same way – Berlin kids who found their way in the Alternative Era. Paul and I were heavily into The Allman Brothers. Nate loved Primus and Red Hot Chili Peppers. And Bryan brought a lot of different flavors to the table – Pearl Jam being one that became a bone of contention (I’ll get into that in a second).
The guys recruited me a couple of weeks before they had their first show. They had a bunch of songs that needed lyrics, so I sat down in my bedroom and got writing:
“Dazed” was the first one I attacked and it’s still one of my favorite tunes. It’s about a girl. All the good songs are, but this one was about a girl that has become many different girls over the years.
“Suzanna” was a love song for someone I hadn’t met yet. I still don’t know if I’ve met her. But, if you listen to the words, it’s a sad, sad song.
“Aspirin” was a reflection of the morning after we had impromptu barn concerts. We would throw these big parties in Paul’s parent’s barn and would play music all night.
“Lifetime in theSun” was an homage to the good things in life. A positive reflection of what we have in front of us, but sometimes don’t realize we have.
There were a few other tunes too. I can’t remember them all, but when Bryan left the band, we brought in our friend Josh and wrote “Midnight Moon”. I remember it being influenced by Jerry Garcia, but having that Pearl Jam feel.
Then we had a few covers – and this is where my bone of contention with the Great Wozonka (Bryan) came in. He was dead set on having me sing “Yellow Ledbetter” by Pearl Jam and it was a hard no for me. Eddie Vedder was a bit of a wino back then and you couldn’t understand what he was saying. The internet was in its infancy and you couldn’t just find lyrics, so I sat in my room for hours – because I really DID want to do the tune – and I figured out what Eddie was saying. And we fucking nailed it. We played it at a band competition in our high school and I totally got laid over it.
Another absolute slammer – which was kind of a departure for us – was “The Wizard” by Black Sabbath. Paul – who took his inspiration from John Bonham – used to love the heavy, technical shit. So, we picked this one out – which gave me an excuse to buy yet another harmonica. We played it a few times – nailing it each time as if we would have been hung and shot if we failed.
But, the one time we played it for a room full of bikers really solidified our talent in our minds. Those guys loved the shit out of us. Even the softer stuff. We had to play behind a cage because it was a bit rowdy. I got electrocuted and thrown into the drums. It was a scene.
Man, I could go on and on about this. We could have gone somewhere with all of it. But life got in the way, as did egos and we all went our separate ways. First Bryan left, and we brought in our buddy Josh. Then Paul sort of left – followed by me. We tried to bring it all back together a few years ago – but it just wasn’t the same.
It doesn’t mean we won’t play somewhere again. Shit, I sing all the time. I was just singing a minute ago. But, different times – different people. I talk to Nate and Paul daily. Our kids are growing up together. We all lost touch with Bryan, but not for any reason by time. I remember writing this tune “Window” about being able to see right into my heart, with him. It was totally “Can’t You See” by Marshall Tucker. But we didn’t care. We just loved playing together.
That said: I do have a MiniDisc of one of our shows that I should digitize at some point. My friend Jimi’s dad did the sound. Lots of reverb. Lots of fun. But, for now – I have these four tracks which became the demo tape that we didn’t do too much with.
Enjoy.
DazedAspirinLifetime In The SunSuzanna
The legal bit:
All of this music is the property of Nicholas LeFort, Paul Berger, Natale Teodoro, and Bryan Wosczyna. Don’t go and steal it. You can’t handle it. This came out of a period in time that most of you couldn’t resonate with because of all of the elements surrounding us when we made it. Lighting in a bottle.
Growing up on my grandparent’s farm, I had the benefit of walking out into the orchard with my cereal bowl and picking some fresh blueberries to go along with my morning cornflakes.
Somewhere in late May, maybe early June, my aunt and cousins would come over and we would drag out the massive nets to cover the blueberries. We would make a night of it. Stretching the net over the structure my grandfather built years before I was born.
Every once and a while, a bird would get inside and we would have to go in there and coax it out. Sometimes the bird had already died.
On Saturdays, I would go out with my grandmother and mother and pick buckets of the bluest blueberries anyone had ever seen. We would be out there for an hour or two. Picking and eating.
There were a dozen bushes, if not more. I have the sales receipt from the early 70’s somewhere here. I have my grandfather’s notes about taking care of the bushes. I have a lot of memories of an amazing man I never got to meet.
Edward. He was a WWII veteran. Factory worker. Farmer. Father of three.
When I was a teenager, I would set my tent up out in the orchard. Sometimes it was just me, sometimes I had company. I’d wake up in the morning to a field of deer. Sometimes a random fox, or a bunch of bunnies.
One morning I woke up in the rain. The tent held up really well, but the minute I got outside and started my journey back to the house, I was drenched. It was one of those day storms that start somewhere before the dawn and carry random bits of thunder along with it.
Already wet, and without the possibility of getting any wetter, I stopped by the blueberries and picked a handful to eat. When I got to the house, my grandmother opened the door. She asked me why I was soaking wet. Then she asked me if I picked her any blueberries.
Stasia. Mother of three. Tender to some of the best gardens in town. My biggest challenge when I was a kid. My best friend for a few years before she died.
I wrote this right as I woke up the morning after the show. It was still thick in the magic of it all and I’m still feeling traces of it now, a week later. There’s nothing like a Dead show, but there’s nothing like spending it with the people you love.
There’s alsosomething to be said about just hopping in your vehicle and doing the thing. Whatever the thing may be. I didn’t have time to think about any of it. I made the call. Came home and kissed the dog, grabbed some clothes and my toothbrush and the rest is a handful of memories I am glad I had the opportunity to make.
All my love. Not fade away…
June 26, 2023. 7:27am.
Since March, the plan was to spend the weekend in Boston and hit up both shows. We’ve had the whole thing set up, hotel and all, and then life happened and things changed.
I was out. I wasn’t going. I had made the call after sleepless nights of not wanting to make the call. I could tell my friends were crushed, but I knew that they understood where I was coming from – why I couldn’t go.
Then, as if all my synapses sang out in unison – I decided to make the trip to Boston at the very last minute. Everything lined up just right – and I mean everything. And there I was, out on the trail – on my way home to mow the lawn and I made the call.
It was so last minute that I was handing my keys to the valet at the hotel as I was hopping into a cab to steam down to the stadium and get in the door just as Jack Straw from Wichita was taking the stage.
3pm to 615pm were a blur.
It was a knee-jerk reaction – a fit of spontaneity – a sure thing. And sure as you’re born – we all had an amazing night.
Who knows if this was the last time we will see these guys play together. It’s the final tour, but probably just the final tour of this line-up. But there was major magic in the air and the second set was so incredibly executed that if it never happened again, this was a great way to end it.
Something happened in there – some of those jams explored unchartered territory. We ascended and transcended – every single one of us.
I listened to everything from both inside and outside of my body. I experienced a little bit of clarity and levity while surrounded by an unfathomable amount of positive energy.
Set I Samson & Delilah Cold Rain & Snow Jack Straw Althea Comes a Time Mr. Charlie He’s Gone > Going Down the Road Feelin’ Bad
Set II They Love Each Other> Playin’ in the Band > Help on the Way > Slipknot! > Fire on the Mountain> Drums/Space> Playing in the Band (reprise) > The Other One v2 > Standing on the Moon > Not Fade Away
Early last month, someone set up a dome tent close enough to the edge of the road, near the trailhead at Ragged, that it was easy to see. Now that the forest has filled in, you really need to look for it – but it’s still there.
The first time I saw it, the front door was partially unzipped and it was the same way today. It’s not a coincidence – it’s abandoned. Which is both annoying and a relief.
It’s annoying that someone left a perfectly good tent behind, disrupting the flow of things. But it’s a relief because anyone putting a tent that close to the road probably isn’t dealing with a full deck.
Anyway.
Today I heard my first chipmunk of the season. Things were getting a little weird because this is chipmunk country and you hear them all year long, but not this year. This year there has been a heavy deficit in chipmunks. To the point of speculation and concern. But everything has been weird out there because of global warming and whatever else is screwing with the schedule of things.
Case and point, Trout Lillies and Bloodroot flowers always pop before Fiddleheads, but Fiddleheads had been unfurled for a solid week before I saw the first Trout Lily. I haven’t seen any Bloodroot. Weird weather patterns have shifted things around.
Another thing I’ve noticed is a general lack of people out on the trail. I’m not complaining – it’s everything I’ve ever wanted – but Ragged has gotten a little Ragged and I think it keeps folks to the main trail and off the side adventures.
By nature, we avoid conflict. A tree down on the path creates a disruption in the flow of things and is a form of conflict and it conflicts with you being able to venture onward without removing the tree. I’m an up-and-over person – I don’t much mind a tree down in my path unless it’s connected to a hornet’s nest. But most people would rather turn around and spread the news to avoid that path altogether.
This has led to the overgrowth of Garlic Mustard which tends to only grow in areas that are generally left alone. Even in our yards, this time of year, you’ll only find them clinging around the perimeter of your pool, firepit, or back side of your shed. Seeing so much out on the trail today was a clear sign that I was the first traveler to travel those hallowed grounds in quite some time.
I haven’t been getting out to hike nearly as much as I’d like to.
It’s not for lack of want, but lack of time. Either way, being that this is my last week off before I start my new 9-to-5, I’m going to make an effort to get out there and get my head right.
Clear the thoughts. Clear the cobwebs. Switch gears and get back into the groove.
Today was a wicked good day out on Ragged.
Spring sprung more than a month ago, so everything has filled in nicely. As that part of the forest settled, the bugs and birds took up the reigns and are settling into their role under the canopy.
The American Robin, though not uncommon, has shown up in abundance. So much so that I would consider them to be the stewards of the preserve.
Laid back in general, the Robins don’t mind you walking by and taking your time. With all the caterpillars dangling from the trees, it’s a full-on feeding frenzy out there. So they’re fat and happy and you’re just part of the movie.
I did get the chance to catch an Ovenbird, part of the Warbler family, sitting on a limb. They didn’t mind me taking a picture of them, which I thanked them for, but from afar.
Beyond the birds and the lay of the land, the hiking today was a real escape. I like to get my heart rate up to 130-135 and keep it there for a while and today provided that ability in spades. In that, I was able to detach myself and only really come back to reality when there was a change in terrain, or someone wandered by.
I’m a woodland scavenger – I like to focus on the trinkets on and around the trail.
Being that I’ve hiked this trail a hundred times, but never the same way twice, I can take a step back and zone out while keeping a solid pace and filling my pockets.
Feathers. Rocks. Flowers.
I like to bring these things back to share with the girls, but they also serve as a waypoint a year or two down the road – something I can look and remind myself of a particular minute or a particular day out there. I’ll have a new scar after this one as well, as I popped a hole in my palm flicking out this Benchmade I’ve been testing out for the last few months.
I stroped it before I left the house and the way it hit my hand when I was opening it made it easy to slip into one of the soft spots. There was very little blood, and it seems to have closed up during the hike but cuts like this always make a scar.
For reference: I took the ‘Ragged Mountain Trail’ – blazed blue and red – to the left of the trailhead on West Lane. It’s close enough to two miles and two hours and it’s easy to wander on, around, and off of without really losing your bearings. It cuts over to the blue and yellow trail, and then I usually hop off onto an old truck trail. One of these days I want to just continue on and see what I can see. I’ve taken that hike before, but it’s been a while. I’ve got a new pack coming my way to test out – it would be a prime hike to see what it can do.
I’m naming this entry “So Many Roads” because the song has stayed lingering in my brain since JRAD played it on Saturday night at Westville. It tracks because these woods are loaded with so many trails – marked and unmarked – and I’ve been down most of them if not all of them.
Garcia really got behind that song towards his tenure with the Dead, and this life in general. It’s a real sleeper, but he would pop up toward the end and really make it swing. Tom Hamilton did the same at the show on Saturday. Really ripped through the fabric of reality. It was great to experience that with Ian and TJ.
I need more hikes like the one I hiked today. I’m still riding on its ethereal fumes as I wait to pick up the girls from school. It’s quite possibly the perfect May Day, only to get better by the stories they’re going to tell me.
Cat claws on sunburnt skin are easier to ignore than you might think when you’re trying to get another hour of sleep…
Tori Amos plays on in the other room. I’m trying not to listen. But decided to let her sounds take me into another round of dreaming.
All attempts are unsuccessful and I decide to let Richard Thompson officially welcome me to the day.
I used to sleep in on Saturdays. I used to want to sleep in on Saturdays. I think I still want to sleep in on Saturdays.
But today is Earth Day and Records Store Day and another day where I’m filling up my schedule for two little girls who love to go on adventures.
So far, I’ve got breakfast planned out. A trip to get some mulch where we might need to take the ferry.
We might go to Chester and wander around.
We might avoid that all together and play mini-golf. I don’t know where.
I haven’t gotten that far – and now my mind wanders to a great place to hike, where I’ll bring peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and listen to Penny protest until she finds her first bug and then she’ll be all dialed in.
I hear rustling and then some fumbling. Little hands looking for a TV remote while the remaining embers of a soon-forgotten dream try and hold on a little longer.
Lucinda Williams and Bruce Springsteen are soon joined by the sounds of someone making make-up and sharing their Tik-Tok tips.
Then Quinn starts calling for the cat.
Her skin isn’t sunburnt so I let the cat go and now we’ve come full circle.
Writing a new blog post while I’m working probably isn’t the best use of my time – but as this is only going to take 5 minutes, and I need to shift my step to pivot to a new project, this is a nice way of doing it.
I’m going to be 42 next month and I don’t really feel it except for the random worry about the things I put into my body. Case and point, I’ve been sick since the weekend and I refuse to mix medications. Just a few years ago I would have done it and enjoyed the ride.
I’m worried about the fact that we haven’t gotten any snow this winter. We could get some later today, but what’s that even going to be? A tease before spring? Meanwhile, I’ve got friends on the left coast living in igloos as if they’re in Antarctica.
I started wearing reading glasses a couple of months ago and the difference in my eyes and the overall lack of headaches is almost unconscionable. And at 1.00 power, it’s just a slight difference – but it’s enough.
A good knife is as good as a good pen. Both are things you need to rely on – in different situations – and are nice to know that you have them on you when you do.
I drink a ton of tea in the winter. In fact, it’s a wonder how I don’t float away with all of that and all of the bubbly water that I drink.
All right. That’s the thick of it and the end of it. Time: 4 minutes, tip to tail.
Tribe Of Flannel 