NO POCKY FOR KITTY (1991, Matador)

Jim: It was our first cross country tour and there we were in San Diego I was sitting at the bar in the old Casbah club (we were playing that night with Drive Like Jehu) and I was thinking, My God, I am far from home. Feeling lonely and sorry for myself smoking too many cigarettes and drinking too much beer because I mistakenly thought it might make me feel better. Ha. The next morning I woke up with the worst sore throat of my life. A week later, by the time we made it to Olympia, Washington I was coughing without interruption and my phlegm as often as not came up with flecks of blood in it. I couldn't speak without pain. Heck, I couldn't breathe without pain. We were staying with Aaron Stauffer from Seaweed and he said to me, "Dude, you need to see a doctor." No kidding. But I was poor and without health insurance. So he took me to the local community health clinic and claimed to the admitting nurse that I was his cousin from out of town. Therefore, he reasoned, I too should receive the heavily discounted health care which the clinic provided. She didn't buy it, that was clear, but she shuffled some paper on her desk and soon I was rushed me through a quick consultation. It turned out I had a bronchial infection. Was prescribed four different medications that I could pick up for a dollar a piece in the hospital's pharmacy. A week later we were in Chicago, I was feeling much better, not perfect, but better, and we started recording the second record. We stayed at our friend Peter's place and worked from six in the evening to six in the morning, and finished the record in three nights. It's hard to believe now, but at the time it didn't seem at all crazy to be going about things in that manner.