It should go without saying to anyone who knows us, that The Bad Checks do things pretty much their own way---that being said, sometimes we do things a little differently from our normal way to keep ourselves amused.  We've never, for instance, rented a big flashy car and driven to New York without amps or drums to play a show.  Given our easy slides into sonic mayhem, it's best we at least play through equipment that is reliable and has as few knobs as possible.  Sure we took guitars and cymbals, but that was it.  We've never made a good first impression on anyone that's ever met us, so relying on the kindness of strangers can be a little tricky if no one has actually seen us play.

Our trip started for real when we got lost in Jersey City, New Jersey at 4:30 am---four white guys in a flashy new car with North Carolina plates, inching their way through crowded streets of shocked looking black guys.  We were a blur.  Movement equals life, and though I don't know the means or location of my eventual demise, it sure as hell wasn't gonna be Jersey.

Fast forward to the next day.  We got a few hours sleep at a secure hotel in N.J. and then headed into Brooklyn.  We got lost some more before parking the car and starting to drink.  By that time, it was about 1:00 in the afternoon.  We checked in at the club to find a state of confusion, noted it, and headed for a local bar.  The bartender had a sign up saying the drinking age was something like 23.  I asked him about the odd number.  He informed me that there was a young guy who he had been kicking out of his bar for some time for being underage, and the guy was waiting to turn 21 just so he could come in and be an ass.  Before he could turn 21, the bartender raised the drinking age of his bar, and continued to do so each year.  It was a sports bar and he was watching a football game.  He was a Giants fan.  I told him I was a Panthers fan and he gave me that "sucks to be you" look.  (Course, the Panthers are headed for the Super Bowl, so score one for the hillbillys).

After warning my bros to pace themselves (waste of time), we headed back to find more confusion and free draft beer.

Half of the bands were lost, and the order of bands was going out the window.  The club had a nice jukebox and one of those Black and White picture booths.  In honor of that booth, I've created all of my pix in B&W.  I didn't care to take any pictures of any bands playing, and to my knowledge there were few taken of us.  After we played, the people who thought we were old "Deliverance" extras, figured out that we had something going for us and we made some new friends.  We also found time to celebrate with old friends such as Jimmy and the Teasers, Dragstrip Syndicate, and The Lords of the Highway.  Life's too short to document the bad times, so all of my pix are of the hours after we played when we were having fun forcing strangers and friends to take photos with us.  I've included my favorites here.  I don't think I'll do captions---I just want people to look carefully.

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