Tour Recap - Baltimore, MD and Washington, DC

The rainy streets of Baltimore, my longest day of driving, and a full fledged DC contingent comprise some of my highlights along the Atlantic.

Contemplation Court at the Museum of African American History and Culture, Washington, DC. Photo by the Smithsonian.

I awoke at Jennifer’s townhouse in Kingstown, RI very early as the early morning sun shone through the windows of my guest room. The birds had already begin their sunrise songs and chores as I spent some time writing before I cleaned up and packed my bags.

Jennifer was awake and reading with coffee when I came downstairs. She poured me a cup and we talked at length about heady topics like the idea of an afterlife, the necessity of religion, and pondered where the energy of ourselves might go when we leave this Earth. Or do we ever really leave this Earth? As I say, it was heady stuff, but I am almost always tuned into have these sorts of meaningful conversations.

Noticing it was already after nine, I swallowed my last gulp of java and hugged Jennifer goodbye.Although it was still relatively early in the day, it was already very warm and muggy along Rhode Island’s coast. It looked to be another scorcher out there on the road.

My drive south to Baltimore was likely to be a long one, requiring patience and an even temperament. These are not skills I normally possess with natural aptitude, but I hit the road with excitement for Baltimore and a great attitude. The drive through Rhode Island and into the eastern portions of Connecticut. I even stopped to gas up in Old Saybrook, CT, the former home of Katherine Hepburn, a legendary film icon and quasi-saint in the Carlson household.

Creeping ever closer to the New York metro area, traffic began to slow significantly. Eventually, it was stop and go in frustrating spurts of tepid movements forward. Clearly, it was going to take a very long time to get around the NYC area. I made the best of things by taking in the gorgeously impressive skyline of Manhattan. Driving at a snail’s pace, I was able to get more than one very good look at more than one section of the skyline. It is always a breathtaking view.

By the time I reached Baltimore, the original drive of six hours and change had ballooned to ten and a half hours. Thankfully, I had left Rhode Island with plenty of time to spare and arrived in Baltimore with enough time to set up my gear and grab a drink at the bar.

Dangerously Delicious is a sweet and savory pie shop in Baltimore. They have a flagship location and a test kitchen with a full bar. I’d be performing in the back grotto area of the Test Kitchen on a Friday night. It looked to be a fun evening.

My contact Rodney had booked the gig on the request of a mutual friend. While we did not know each other form the proverbial Adam, Rodney was welcoming and kind. After I loaded my gear in, I got to know Rodney a bit as he worked diligently crafting pies and prepping them to hit the ovens the next morning.

I went inside to grab a drink and put a setlist together. Breezy, the bartender, introduced himself and we chatted for a bit about the Sisters of Mercy that was playing on the house system as he crafted me an Old Fashioned. A couple of regulars chatted at the bar while I sipped my whiskey drink and put the battle plan together for the evening.

By the time I began playing, the rain had started to sprinkle in. My stage area was covered, but most of the seating in the grotto area was exposed and as such, only a few brave souls hung out to se my set. Despite the small crowd, I played with a fervor and energy suited for a much fuller room. It felt good to lean into the songs and my abilities on a night when only a scant few would even see them. Play for 6 the way you’d play for 600.

I sold a bit of merch to the brave few who had stuck around (see what I did there?) and then packed up the Buick to find a room for the night. My hope was to get a room a bit closer to DC without paying big city prices. I managed to find a reasonable rate on a room in Silver Spring and settled in for the night.

Washington is one of my favorite cities on the planet. I am a sucker for history, the power of the people and the radical act of self-governance. Although I have been to the city a number of times, I never tire of its beauty and history. The drive in to town was shockingly easy in a town notorious for awful gridlock, the benefit of a Saturday arrival. I parked my car near the Renwick Gallery on New York Avenue and headed over to the mall to get to the African American History and Culture Museum just after its opening.

On my walk over, I ambled through what shade I could fin along the walking paths around the mall. I paid respects at the Lincoln Memorial and read the Second Inaugural in full, as I always do. It is a staggeringly moving speech filled with brilliance and bravery. From there, I went to visit the Korean War Memorial, which is my favorite monument in DC.

I looped around the Washington Monument and found myself at the entrance to the African American Museum. After snagging my free ticket via QR code and a smart phone, I made my way to the bottom concourse to begin the tour. The first two floors of display are focused on the slave trade and the timeline leading up to the American Civil War. While there were any number of interesting and bone-chilling artifacts, the crowd was so packed in it became difficult to enjoy the experience. I breezed through the slavery era fairly quickly due to this constraint, but also because much of the information being shared was not new to me.

Once we reached the exhibits about the Reconstruction era and later, the crowd abated immensely. This room to breathe along with a series of fascinating exhibits, videos, and artifacts greatly enhanced my enjoyment. There was a very powerful room dedicated to the plight of different black causes like the Black Panthers, the Nation of Islam, the Black Unity Party and more. There was information in these rooms that was completely new and fascinating to me.

The last section of my tour was focused on the contributions that black Americans have made to society through their achievements in music, culture, and sports. From James Baldwin to Jackie Robinson, a host of crucially important black figures are represented on these two floors. After seeing the ways in which blacks have been exploited, subjugated, and demeaned makes these achievements all the more impressive.

I began to make my exit feeling terribly angry about my country’s horrendous history with race. Our nation was founded on an incredible ideal; that the people can govern themselves under the ideal that all men are equal. Yet, we have never treated blacks as equals in our nation’s history, up to and including today. Our forefathers fashioned a beautiful ideal that we have never managed to live up to. Instead of seeing that hope, in the moment of my exit, I felt the darknesss of our failure.

Upon walking up the ramp to find the final exit, I stumbled upon an area called Contemplation Court. The room is set off to the side of the main ramp-way via a small hallway. The court itself is a large marble room with very dim lighting. In the center of the room is a circular pool that is at least twenty feet across. Directly above the pool is a circular hole of the same size from which a fountain of water is pouring down like so much rain.

As you first enter the room and fully experience the rainfall effect, you are treated to a quote on the wall in giant letters from the great revolutionary leader, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.,

We are determined. . . to work and fight until justice rains down like water and righteousness like a mighty stream.
- Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Reading those words and seeing that water pour down, I burst into tears. Thankfully there are marble benches for folks to sit on, and I took full advantage. The room was nearly empty but I did my best not to sob or wail. Still, I cried for a good minute or two and just let the tears flow. It felt cathartic, shameful, vengeful, and strangely hopeful.

Leaving the museum, I slowly worked my way back to the Renwick for a visit to a gallery that I had not seen. A friend, and guests the pod, Bill Boyle had suggested it and I was excited for a visit. Sadly, I was given the rude awakening that I could not extend my time in the same parking spot, and by that point, all available spaces in the area were spoken for.

I decided to forego the Renwick and instead head over to a hip neighborhood that Bill recommended and a cool little lunch spot. The parking there was even worse and I began to get a little frustrated for the first time by the hassles of having a car in DC. After several trips around the block and surrounding streets I gave up and headed for lunch in Virginia closer to my house concert spot and home for the evening in Vienna, VA.

The Buick and I rolled into the Snidertorium, the home of my dear friends Mike and Julie Snider. It was already a weird day for Mike and Julie, as Julie’s 92 year old mom had gone to the hospital the night before and when I arrived Julie was still at the hospital. Things were okay, but Julie clearly had a lot on her plate.

Mike and I got the house arranged for the performance and I brought in all of my truck to get it set up. The heat in the south was really getting going for the first time and after my walking around DC and loading my gear in to the house, I was fully drenched. Julie arrived just as were getting the last of the setup in order, and I cleaned up before the show.

I’m fortunate enough to know Mike and Julie because of my connection with the Rockin’ The Suburbs podcast. That pod, its hosts and its listeners have been a huge source of support for me on these solo tours and the Suburbs gang came out in full force at the Snidertorium. We had a full room of friends and fans, and I felt an immense sense of gratitude for my ability to be a part of that community.

The audience was fully engaged and attentive during my set. After the show, Patrick Foster, one of the pod’s hosts was kind enough to tell me how much he enjoyed the show, and made a point that it was the best performance of mine he’d seen either solo or with a band. I was very touched.

There was much carousing after the set and we enjoyed some whiskey that community member Rob Gates had brought to celebrate the occasion. The after show talk centered on the upcoming election, the upcoming Suburbs Fest which just happened in Rockford, IL this past weekend. It’s just one more example of the true nature of community with this group. We also talked about the recent R.E.M. interview for their induction into the Songwriters Hall of Fame and folks asked all sorts of questions about the tour and my time on the road.

I finally hit the hay a bit buzzed on the whiskey and drunk on the community. Sunday would be a day off from a show but would feature a fair amount of driving and perhaps a Father’s Day treat or to for yours truly. More to come soon.

Cheers,
Matty C