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no room for hipsters

the occupation of Ashley and Levon


Brooklyn Bridge

Brooklyn Bridge


(from Levon)

Sunday we said goodbye to the city.  We didn’t know it would be goodbye, but we made what would be our farewell journey from Forefront Church in Midtown to the Brooklyn Bridge, then Wall St and Battery Park, looked across to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island, saw the World Trade Center site, then up to Central Park where Ann Hathaway starring in Shakespeare in the Park was sadly sold out. We kept strolling back to Harlem where Lynsey had made dinner, to our weary appreciation.  

The plan was to go back Wednesday after the Mercury Lounge show.  Back in Virginia, the Rodeo was not ready to repeat the mission so Ashley brought back Frankie’s truck instead.  That was great news because loading, tying and riding in elevators is a logistical nightmare to do while keeping an eye on everything.  East Harlem is not Old North Knoxville.  

Monday morning is street cleaning and we had to move the truck to avoid a $45 ticket.  We thought, why not actually drive to my old Starbucks for goodbyes and free coffee?  The morning rush down Lexington Ave and back would probably take the allotted two hours.  At 85th St, we pulled right out front and Ashley stayed with the truck.  No sooner had I gone in, she was running in after me, grabbing the keys frantically as she was getting a ticket.  I ran out in time to see the policeman slam the ticket on the windshield as he stood in the space she needed to pull forward out of her spot. I tried to stop him and he wouldn’t turn around.  I wanted to yell, “we’re just trying to do what we’re supposed to do!”  The careless back of a cop held all of my city’s answers.  

$95 is apparently what it takes to get someone’s attention on the Upper East Side.  It got ours.  Four hours later we had our stuff thrown in the truck, mostly crammed in four 60 gallon garbage bags, and were headed down I95 not even looking back at the skyline.  Feelings mutual.  




I will go back to New York and be fond of the place.  But as I sit here on the farm in Virginia, I am smiling.  My dog chases goats and chickens or barks at cows.  My cat is roaming with his mom and five siblings.  Ashley paints from the corner of the long front porch that holds a houseful of kids playing and me singing.  New York was a couple days ago already, and seems like a funny inside joke that Ashley and I share as we figure out what life is going to look like for us now.  Rebecca and Frankie are taking the Harley’s off for a while this summer on vacation and then later to Sturgis.  Ashley and I have to learn to be better farm hands very quickly to earn our keep around here.  No room for any rural hipsters, either.  

The six songs I wrote in New York I’m recording in my new basement studio.  I’m trying to book dates to play, so please keep the recommendations coming.  We are, I think, planning to move to Virginia Beach in a couple weeks once we get our bearings.  For now we are breathing deeply and feeling grateful for pauses in life where it appreciates back.




by Dustin Addair

by Dustin Addair


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