Greetings from Santa Ana, CA.

I’m here for Burgerama II at the Observatory.  The second annual two-day music festival celebrating Burger Records starts Friday.

On the way out west, I made a stop in Nashville Wednesday night to see Jeff and Deborah.  Alex Bleeker (pictured above with his great band The Freaks) was in town as part of his tour turn-back from SXSW.

Bleeker and the Freaks performed a purely professional 60-minute set before a Mercy Lounge crowd estimated at only 40 people.  Bottles of water were arranged on stage for a tired-looking Bleeker and his bandmates.  A gig the night before in Oxford, MS likely had something to do with the fatigued appearances.  As always seems to be the case with those associated with the Woodsist family, Bleeker and the Freaks exerted max effort despite the uphill factors at play.

Bleeker’s next record “How Far Away” will be released by Woodsist in May.  The tune “Don’t Look Down” appears on the new record and was released by the label via the Sound Cloud platform to generate interest.  Bleeker and Woodsist are a great fit for a bunch of reasons.  Perhaps most importantly, Bleeker is chummy with Woodsist’s founder Jeremy Earl and is a supportive presence at a lot of shows featuring Woodsist bands.

Totally by coincidence, a band Deborah is fond of played an opening set in the smaller adjoining space High Watt.  Fronted by Holly Laessig and Jess Wolfe, Lucius played a 35-minute set that was notable for its energy and creativity.  Their sound reminded me a bit of Tilly and the Wall.

The Mercy Lounge (capacity 500) and High Watt (250 max) are housed in a large out-of-the-way historic building formerly used for food processing.  The Cannery Ballroom (1000 capacity) is the site’s spot for big gigs.  Once you’re inside, both the Mercy and Watt are high quality performance spaces with well-staffed bars.  My only beef about the place is that it had kind of an impersonal feel given its isolation from the city’s hustle and bustle.  Juggling three venues in one makes it feel part amusement park-like.

I had at least one or two adult beverages too many Wednesday night.  I give large credit to the homemade chicken soup at Nashville’s Pied Piper Eatery for bringing me back to life just before Jeff dropped me at the airport Thursday morning.

Air travel on this trip has been a little tricky.  Lots of young people are on spring break and the airplanes I’ve tried to ride on have been pretty full.

I ended up sitting around Houston’s Bush airport for more than six hours en route to Orange County.  As has become my custom when time allows on the IAH pass-thru, I stopped by the Shipley Do-Nuts shop in Terminal B.  The cake doughnuts at Shipley are insanely tasty and fresh.

The six-mile trip from Orange County’s John Wayne airport to the hotel near the Burgerama venue didn’t leave much time for conversation with the cab driver late Thursday night.  But about five minutes into the ride, we were both smiling at the discovery we had a common link.  Twenty-three years ago, the cabby said, he packed up and left Jackson Heights after his doughnut shop near the Rosie Ave. subway station failed.  He blamed changing demographics in the Heights for the demise of his business and said he had grown tired of the cold winters.  We stood out in front of my hotel talking for at least ten minutes.  He wanted to know what Jackson Heights was like now.

I told him it could use a good doughnut shop.

My first week of 2013 vacation is under way.  I’m happy it’s here because I was starting to feel a little run down from the sameness of the routine.

Plans for this ten-day stretch of fun have changed a few times.  I toyed with a super-ambitious voyage to Japan and South Korea and got cold feet when I started visualizing solo adventures in Tokyo and Seoul.  With the help of Google Maps, I would take virtual practice walks down the street from my virtual hotel to the virtual subway station to the virtual bar and restaurant and it was all pretty confusing to navigate.  Yeah, yeah, I know I could do it and it would be fun, but I like to talk to people when I travel.  I’ll save it for a time when I can go with somebody.

I considered doing March Madness in Vegas or at a live site but I’m not in a spot to lose big dough and the on-site tourney experience is dampened by the ban on beer sales.

I ended up deciding to head out to Southern California for Burgerama II which is a two-day rock and roll music festival this weekend in Santa Ana.  The band lineup on both days is crazy good.  Saturday’s card includes White Fence and King Tuff.

On the way out, I’m gonna make a stop in Nashville to see my pal Jeff D.  We plan on seeing Alex Bleeker and his band The Freaks play the Mercy Lounge on Wednesday night.

As I write this, I’m in a crowded airport gate area waiting for an empty seat to Music City.  One full flight has left without me.  I have two more cracks at it.

I arrived Newark Airport’s Terminal A about 11 AM.  With some time to kill before my attempt to ride the 12:52 PM non-stop to Nashville, I sought a stiff cup of coffee and something to nibble on.  I had left the apartment on an empty stomach so I was ready for some caffeine.

Rarely do I find myself in Terminal A at Newark but I had read a newspaper story several months ago saying the Golden Krust chain had opened a shop there.  I have a thing for the jerk chicken variation of Krust’s beef patty.  Whenever anybody faces jury duty at the Civil Courthouse in Jamaica, Queens, I always recommend a stop at the Golden Krust location in that neighborhood.  It’s a warm, friendly place that feels not like a fast food outlet.

So, here I was in Newark thinking the Golden Krust experience I’m so fond of based on my Jamaica, Queens experiences would translate to same at the airport.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.

When I walked in, I was drawn to the big glass display case containing the patties.  It appeared to be a self-service set-up.  Paper patty sleeves were positioned on the customer side of the counter and the display case appeared to have handles to slide the doors open.

Not seeing a Krust worker behind the counter, I attempted to slide open the patty case.  A young man near the register shouted “Sir!  Sir!  What are you doing?”

“I’m grabbing a jerk chicken patty,” I said.

“No, sir.  That’s my job.” said the worker (and again at a volume more befitting of a scold).

“Sorry,” I said.  “It appeared to me to be self-service.”

I bought the patty ($3.10) and ordered a coffee.  No coffee.  So, I walked over to the Dunkin’ Donuts across the hall and bought a large coffee.

Still with time to spare before I had to go through security, I went back to Krust with my patty and coffee.  I sat down in the empty dining area and ate the patty.  As I was sipping my coffee (in the distinctive foam Dunkin’ Donuts cup), a second Krust worker approached me and told me I couldn’t sit in the dining area without making a purchase.

But I had!

I had bought the delicious and savory jerk chicken-filled patty encased in baked dough.  Problem was, I had already finished it.  The worker looked at me and didn’t appear fully convinced by my patty purchase claim.  She stared at the Dunkin’ Donuts cup.  I told her I would have bought a Krust coffee had it been available.

I walked away with a smile from the double dose of anti-customer vibrations.  It was comedy show in its absurdity.  I chalked it up to the fact so much of what happens inside a New York airport is best handled with a laugh.