Nothing shocking

"Never buy a vehicle that catches on fire."

Said matter-of-factly, with only a trace of irony in her voice. I think she said it mostly to herself, to provide some purpose, some lesson learned to make the current situation somehow bearable. I remember her saying it only once, but she may have repeated it over the course of the next three years. It didn't matter though, I heard it many times anyway. An echo whenever there was a need to put on a head-shirt and overalls and fix the van once more.

"Never buy a vehicle that catches on fire." Words to live and grow by from Stacie Black.

We were Southbound on 101, somewhere north of San Louis Obispo when I smelled something burning, there was a loss of power and I had to pull over. We just left our one bedroom apartment on 54th Street and Shattuck Ave in Oakland three hours earlier to embark on our first tour.

For six months prior, we managed to hold down jobby jobs, me at La Vals for a while, then Gino's, Stacy at ToGo's then Domino's, Tommy and Jimmy working with autistic adults. I remember that I made $120 a week from Gino's and on payday I'd stop at the Alcatel Liquor Store on Alcatraz and Telegraph, buy a six pack - 3 Anchor Steam, and 3 Anchor Porter for black and tans. This was my reward for the week.

All the rest of the money would go to only three things: rent (not much, we shared a one bedroom in the hood), studio time, and a new van. All of us were in the same boat. We worked, we gigged, we went to parties, and we spent all our money on studio time or saving for a new tour van.

To put this in perspective I brought home $120 a week and studio time at Live Oak Studios in Berkeley cost $54 an hour and 24 track tape cost $140 for 18 minutes at Leo's Music around the corner. Everything we had went to the band.

It was June when we where wrapping up recording of Eat Music Not Meat and we socked away $600 in the van fund. I found a 74 Chevy Van for sale in Alameda, gave it a test drive and bought it on the spot. I was pulling up to 54th Street with smoke pouring from the engine and a carburetor with flames shooting out each time the engine backfired. The transmission dripped so bad it already needed another quart of fluid.

"Never buy a vehicle that catches fire."

I assured everyone that these were minor issues and I'd have it ready to roll in time.
I can't remember what I did, but I got it working good enough to restore confidence. We set out for San Diego.

By San Louis Obispo, the transmission was out of fluid and smoking bad. It didn't look like the van could make it to SD. By the side of the road, Stacie said what we all were thinking, "Never buy a vehicle that catches on fire." It was after midnight when I hobbled into the gas station and loaded up on Type II Automatic Transmission fluid to nurse the van all the way to Ocean Beach and our first stop on the tour. The Texas Tea House.

I admit, I like to mow the grass. It's my time to put on the noise canceling headphones, plug in the iPhone and spend some quality me time. Last Sunday morning I decided to listen to Jane's Addiction Nothing Shocking. When Ocean Side came on, the van memory came to me.

You see, Jane's Addiction had just released Nothing Shocking before we left. This was our soundtrack for the six weeks we were stranded in San Diego with a busted van. We listened to it over and over. By the end of the six weeks we would lose our drummer, gain a manager, die our hair black and blond, Stacie would get a nose ring, there would be a personal hygiene protest and the Chevy Van would have a new engine and transmission.

Nothing shocking.