Aug 20th-22cd: Minot, Bismark, Fargo NORTH DAKOTA!

OH MY GOD WE'RE MAKING SO MUCH MONEY!!!

Just kidding.

Anyways.

Other than California, which was our conquering destination of the summer, we played more shows in North Dakota than any other state in the United States of America. HOW CHILL IS THAT?!!

Here goes...

1) MINOT!

Here's the answer: FUCK YEAH MINOT!

Billy of Father, Son, and the Holy Smokes, along with a posse of invincible warriors from Minot got together and created the glowing-beast that is the Why Not, Minot??!festival.

We played in an art gallery called 62 doors. The show, the gallery, the festival, the vibes --- the whole experience left the sweet, raw aftertaste of inspiration in all our little hearts.

Thanks for letting us be a part of such an incredible culture that you have created, truly from the ground up.

2) BISMARK!

Here's what happened in Bismark: WILDMAN PLAYED… wait, hold on... sit down and hold onto your life and really think this one out after you read it.

WILDMAN PLAYED NAKED!

Mumford's last song was about to start and there was a funny smell in the air. Like burnt hair. Or maple syrup. I dunno. THEN! He pulled down his boxers (the only thing between him and his truth) to revel the UNIVERSE to Bismark North Dakota. He sat with his tuba, playing the song, being truth, holding the room in a hot moment of discovery which forever changed the inner life of the human race.

Wildman: You are an inspiration. You are my father and my child. You are the light in every animals eyes. We love you.

Other things happened too. Like racism and homophobia. But mainly Wildman got naked.

3) FARGO!

The might be a long post, BUT DON'T SKIP THIS PART! Unless you don't like truth.

Remember back in the early 1900s when we played a show in Colorado Springs? We met some bands from Fargo there. And being immortal badasses, they invited us to their town, their home, and booked a show for us. We made a lot of friends on this trip, but the Sunrise/Sunset crew became family, and we can't wait to return the favor.

The show was the 8th wonder of the world. And that isn't because we of this Hoop Dreamz tour rock harder than Mozart, that's because the people of Fargo are apparently all angels and power rangers combined.

If anyone is reading this, and you live in Fairfield, you should probably start preparing your emotions now for when this band comes through. They're going to rip every single heart in our town to shreds. Little glowing shreds which we'll be left to pick up and put back together to a new, better us.

Seriously. They're really fucking good.

IN THE END

North Dakota: the end of the world may be near, but we held each other close and learned what it means to know.

Aug 17th and 18th: Spokane WA and Missoula MT!

After a hard round of goodbyes in Portland we teleported to Spokane Wash to play a show and do some Cokane in Spokane. (Just kidding mom!)

The show was DownAsFuck - we played in a burrito shop and got free burritos, which is better than winning the lottery. In Portland we played in a church, and the next night in a burrito store. We were winning life.

Spokane was cool enough, and we met some really great people (Thanks Chris and Angela for the place to stay and good ass vibes!). I will say though, being spit on and yelled at by a crazy woman who dressed like a man-child-rap-star-wanna-be was kinda dumb...

Angela bought a shirt!

AND ALSO! We got to see! //MARCUS //TANYA //MAKENSIE //RACHEL on their way to Portland. THANKS FOR COMING YO! We'll miss you Marcus.

The next morning we woke up and time traveled to Missoula Montana. Let me tell you something right now: FUCK YES MISSOULA!

We played at an incredible art space called ZACC. First, The Keys Knees. Next, Mumford's. Mumford's are assassin's. A murder posse. Their guns are hearts. Their victim is America.

Then we played and it was a miracle.

Also a band called Goddamnit Boyhowdy played and killed souls. They called them selves Rez Punk, because they're Native Americans who play punk with the fury of God.

In the end: tonight. forever.

Aug 14-16: PORTLAND!!!

PORTLAND.

Here's the thing: everyone loves their friends and family. Except for maybe racist, homophobic fuck face people, who are ruining everyone's vibe all the time. But that aside --- here's the thing: sometimes a whole butt load of your friends and a little of your family all migrate to Portland, leaving you high and dry and as sad as a bunch of dead dogs on a hot highway, left to rot and listen to the trucks plow by with your dead ears in the hot midwestern sun…

So your like, "let's go on tour! LET's GO TO PORTLAND WHERE THE LOVE IS THICK AND UNDYING!! "

That's what happened to us. And Christ, let me tell you, we could have stayed a whole shit load of a lot longer, and it wouldn't have been long enough.

So this is a special message to all of our friends and family and people in PDmotherfuckingX: WE LOVE YOU. WE MISS YOU. IT WAS AMAZING TO SEE YOU AGAIN, even if just for a hot, nasty second. I hope you cry when you read this, like I'm doing writing it.

Here are some pictures that we will show our children.

And so on until the dawn of the age of enlightenment.

Here they are:

THANK YOU!

///Lynn

///Freeda

///Milo

///Amy

///Isabel

///Theo

///Pheobe

///Mike Cohn ----> who hooked us up with his friends at THE FUNKY CHURCH where we got to play our raucous, shitty hearts out.

///Mike Cook

///Rachel (Cook :):):):)

///Christine

///Eric Johnson

///TRILBY

You left our hearts a mess.

Aug 13th: Red Bluff, CALIFORNIA!

Our last night in CALIFORNIA went like this.

nuf said.

Aug 9th-12th: San Francisco and Oakland--> The Bay Area!

Let 's us take a second here to appreciate something: ALL GLORY GOES TO MOSE.

Mose Wintner, along with his AMAZING roommates put 10 (TEN!) of us Iowa-ass-motherfuckers up in their beautiful Oakland home for 4 (FOUR!) nights!!

Look at this place. Look at the color of that bike.

It's like a magic ship.

THANK YOU SO MUCH TO MOSE, JEFF, ADAM, RAPHELA, AND LAURA!!! Your home and kindness is amazing and deeply beautiful.

And here's a list of the dope-ass-shit we did while chillin and playing shows in Oakland and San Francisco, in no particular order:

- Chilled.

- Played flippy-cup.

- Drank coffee.

- Watched The Dark Crystal.

- Went to the beach.

- Visited with Fairfield friends (RAMA! JOY JOY! EVAN! PAUL!)

- Slept on a kitchen floor.

- Dreamed.

- Watched Mumford's slay a parking garage in San Francisco.

- Slayed a set in The Pink House's basement in San Francisco.

- Watched Mumford's change lives in a basement in San Francisco.

- Time traveled.

- Ate burritos.

- Fell in love.

- Went to the park.

- Shopped till we dropped.

- Chilled.

- Enjoyed the god damn shit out of life.

Here's some proof of that last one.

Wildman made friends with the starfish.

JOY JOY and RAMA!

EVAN!

Mumford's rocking the flipping fuck out of a parking garage. Killing it with Magic every night.

San Francisco is so pretty.

It was Christmas all year at The Pink House.

Look at Dom's Rock and Roll Lips!

Here's the thing: San Francisco LOVE. Oakland LVOE. Old friends LEVO. New Friends LOEV. LOVE. love. love. love.

Aug 8th and 9th: Santa Cruz and Berkeley!

Look at the Home of the Brave's beautiful nose.

We rolled out of LA super duper late due to diarrhe-ahhhh related issues, pushing our arrival time in Santa Cruz to FUCKING LATE AHHH!

We were due at the Subrosa Anarchist Cafe at 6:00, but we got there at a painfully tardy 8:30. Fortunately, everyone is cooler than god damn cold bean salad, and the show went blissfully. Mumford's slayed. Then we played our queitest set of the tour (the cops came during Mumford's set and were lyk "fucking chill. you're killing it too hard."). But despite the quiet, it was the first show of the tour to achieve crowd surfing status.

Moes played too. I love you Moes.

Thanks to Dorota of the Subrosa! Her band Matador is awesome!!

The next day we did some hard chillin in Santa Cruz before driving to Berkley, to do more hard chillin.

A cave in Stana Cruz.

Ice in Berkeley.

We played at a housing co-op that Moes used to live in. Something like 150 kids live there during the school year. It was a wicked place of youthful rebellion, love, and marijuana. And it was a fun as shit place to rock and roll!

In Truth. In Light. Hip Hop.

Aug. 6th and 7th: San Clemente and Los Angeles!

After San Diego we had no idea what to do with ourselves. The good people of The Park gallery let us crash in their space, and we all got some seriously good sleep in, as we'd driven all night the night before. But we had no show that night, and as a result, no home.

FORTUNATELY! Our good friend and fellow Fairfield rock and roll missionary Nate Headrick came to our rescue and let us stay with him at his beautiful, mellow parent's house in San Clemente.

Nate!

Here's Nate's dad Gary and his awesome fire.

Let me list off the things that Nate and dad Gary and mom Laurie hooked us up with:

- a place to stay.

- a pizza dinner with beer and salad.

- a house of friends to play an impromptu show to.

- a pancake breakfast.

- a trip to the beach.

- a rented surf board and a surfing lesson.

- fire.

- love.

- light.

In effect: Thank you Nate Headrick!!! We love you and can't wait to take you and Josie out to dinner when we get back to Fairfield!

The CREW at the beach.

Dom's hoolattitude.

After an early morning at the beach we drove to LA for an early (very early - like mid afternoon) show at a GREAT diy house called the Malo Funhouse. Here's a list of the dope ass shit this space had going on:

- Show space.

- Internet radio station.

- Art space.

- Sweet ass art on all the walls.

- Drawing jamz every week.

- Cleanliness.

- Grilled cheese sandwiches.

- Etc.

- Love.

- Truth.

- And so much more.

Band's played from around 3 until around 9. It was an awesome Saturday afternoon chill fest. I'm pretty sure it was better than that other big show that happened that weekend in Chicago...

We got to meet up with our awesome baller friend Moes from Oakland. Here he is playing an incredibly meditative Red Coyote set.

LA left us all feeling high as pie.

Aug 4th and 5th: Scottsdale, AZ to San Diego!

We rolled into Scottsdale Arizona at around 4 pm to a HARD ass 120 degree heat. We didn't understand how it was so hot. It was alien. It was death. It was the big, hot eyes of the devil.

Our show was at a bar called The Rouge. When we unloaded during the day it was a total biker-bar vibe of day drinking in the dark. We were pretty sure we were all gonna get murdered for being homosexuals.

Before the show we made up some flyers and hustled our way around Scottsdale, bothering sk8tr punx, Urban Outfitter clerks, bar crawling bros, and the general hussy population. We we're all, "We're Iowanz. Git fucked.".

By the evening the crowd had switched to a touch less biker crowd. The sound guy let us throw Dark Crystal on their projector during our set, which was as awesome as it sounds. Our set was like, BOOM!

Then Mumford's set was like, BOOM!

Our friends Colin and Kayla came to the show!

After the show we made an executive decision to drive through the night to San Diego. It was a beautiful decision. The desert night was like a crystal. The air silent and vibrant as we sliced through the mountains across the hot hot hot american southwest. Dreams were coming true. Truths were being born. Stars were forming in our heads until the sun rose over the breathtaking California mountains.

We greeted the dawn as we best know how - with our dreamz and with our hoops.

In San Diego we had the great fortune of playing our show at an art gallery called The Park.

It was an amazing space and a fun assss show. Mumford's slayed first, with Nate at one point throwing his shirt out the window. I like to think it hit some one outside, soaking them with his sweat, and they spontaneously combusted from the DEEP VIBE.

Then we turned the lights off, turned the strobes up, gave everyone 2 hits of E, threw glittered into the crowd, and played our set ac cappella while everyone gave us massages. Shit was real.

DEEP VIBE.

Aug 1st and 2cd: Colorado Springs and Albuquerque!

Before leaving DenverTown we went down to the Capital Building to hoop our dreamz in the big-face of Colorado's capital building.

Later we took the short stint to Colorado Springs to play a Sunday night show at a spot called The Rocket Room. It was looking like it was gonna be a sleepy night, but it turned out to be a killer party with 2 other beautiful touring bands, the world's best sound guy (who made us sound like a fantasy on their awesome PA, AND let us crash at his place! BIG UPS DEAN!!), a dance party in the rain, and a genuine dose of Midwest luv, culminating in a giant 4 band group hug (the other 2 touring band's were from Fargo, North Dakota and we all felt the deep pride).

Here's a video of the incredible band Sunrise/Sunset playing a section of the 1/2 hour instrumental revelation of a set (I didn't get video of the other band, Tiny Moving Parts, but they rule too).

I want to take this opportunity to introduce the universe to WildMan. That's him down there in front of our van, The Home of the Brave. He only wears a shirt when the law interferes with him being shirtless. He's a skinny gorilla. He's an American ninja. On this tour he's taken a secret identity of a kid named Brian who plays killer tuba and other horns in Mumford's. It's a sham. He's an assassin. He's the head of the CIA. He's Barak Obama's estranged father.

Here are his batman undies at Dean's house before we hit the road to Albuquerque.

Here he is in Albuquerque wearing a produce bag that he made into a shirt. He was like "I don't have a parking permit. What you gonna do about it?" Then he murdered a parking lot attendant with his crocs.

More wildman stories to come....

In Albuquerque Philip got a special treat.

:)

The show went awesome for a Monday night. It was once again looking like it was gonna be a sleepy night, but a butt load of people show up to the awesome bar we played at called Burt's Tiki Lounge, and we got a party going on real good. I didn't get any photo's, which is becoming a nasty habit…sorry!

We stayed at James Doxon's aunt and uncles house, which was beautiful. Thanks James! Here he is making some more god-damn-sexy salsa.

We did laundry.

Philip got awesome birthday presents.

I may or may not have bought this record. I did. I bought it.