Editor's Note: J. Tom Hnatow from These United States is writing a tour diary for DCist chronicling the band's latest national tour.

July 30, 2007

We take scenic route 1 up to Portsmouth, NH, skipping the interstate entirely. When we tour, we try to take as much local scenery as possible, from small roads to food to art. In this increasingly homogenized world, we have to work to find the differences. It's sad to me how easy it would be to travel the country on nothing but bland interstates, eating nothing but McDonalds. I think that as we travel as artists, attempting to bring our art to places, we owe it to those places to try to be as much a part of them as we hope they will be to us.

We stop in the fog on the rocky coast. It feels like we've landed on another planet. Then off to the Red Door, one of our favorite places to play — a tiny martini bar with a Monday night concert series. Portsmouth has an inordinate number of artists, from musicians to painters to photographers. It feels like half the people at the show are taking pictures of us. It is more than a little strange to find out that my pedal steel and hand were the cover of a flyer for the concert series. On the positive side, if this music thing doesn't pan out, I can always become a hand model. I also sit in on a song with Ben (Cartright) for the first time tonight. Over our various tours, there has almost always been a point where I become a part of their set. I love it. I'd much rather play than sit at the bar and drink.

July 31, 2007

We're in the last week of tour now, and headed southward on our "grand finale" run. I'm really excited about all the shows this week – Providence, 2 NYC shows, Philly, then our homecoming show on Saturday.

Providence is a cool town with an eclectic music scene, and we always have fun here. We crash with Tom Inhaler (of Sage Frances). Tom is a great guy –- we hit it off immediately. Fellow musicians are always the best people to stay with. They've been in the same situations. Also, it's a chance to swap tour stories: to compare towns, venues, people, and all the strange situations that inevitably arise. After an hour or so, you'd never guess that we all just met.

Our show is great. The room is another semi-legitimate venue, but with a great sound system (better than most clubs, actually), and the headliner, John from the band Deer Tick, makes sure we're well taken care of. The police show up during our set — strange how a packed house with people milling and drinking in the streets will do that — and leave. I'd like to think we charmed them with our music.

We just heard about Philly/Brooklyn band Bottom of the Hudson, who had a horrific van accident yesterday. Our condolences go out to them and their families. It's easy to forget how dangerous this whole crazy dream we're all following is. All the miles and miles add up.

August 1, 2007

After an amazing breakfast at Nick's on Broadway, we bid farewell to Tom and crew. Yet more people for us to miss … as we head south, Jesse and I discover that we're both feeling the same strange "homesickness" -- not for any particular place, just a general feeling that arises when we spend so much time having to say goodbye. We have a frequent joke about doing a year long tour, just so we can stay in every place for 3 days and spend more time with our friends.

On to NYC for the next two nights. As a band, our opinion of the city is split. Jesse loves it. I'm not quite so sold. I've played tons of shows here –- some great ones, too. And I get that from a music business side, this is the place to be seen. But at the level we're at, it can feel like being a cog in a machine, to be just one more anonymous band playing a set among hundreds of other bands doing the same. As we've slowly built up a fan base here that seems less and less true, but the contrarian in me will always have mixed feelings about this city.

We have a good show at the Cake Shop on the Lower East Side –- it's become our go-to NYC venue. Excellent sound, and the people there have been consistently nice…even despite one noteworthy show where I passed out on the bar (thanks, JD).

August 2, 2007

The busiest day of the tour. Up early in the morning and over to Williamsburg for a recording session. Our pal and musical compadre Adam Arcuragi is having us guest on his record. I lend my pedal steel and banjo to a bunch of tracks, and Jesse belts out some backing vocals for a few hours.

Then, up to Queens to visit the folks at Amie Street, an online music community (and store) that is our main source for online sales. We always try to stop by and hang out with them anytime we're in town. We set up in a spare room in their warehouse space and record a few exclusive tracks for them.

Then, we make our way back over to Brooklyn to Goodbye Blue Monday for our show (for those counting, 2 recording sessions and 1 show in 1 day). The venue has no AC -- we're soaked by the time we load in. Robby Cosenza from Lexington, KY is in town for another show. He rushes across town and joins us at the last second for a fantastically sweaty, inspired set. It is, in my opinion, the best set of the tour.

We pack the car up to leave for Philly, get in some night driving and get to spend the day in town. And then…somewhere in the midst of our brain-fried, sleep-deprived load out, the keys get locked in the car.

I call AAA. We stare at the keys, sitting on the front seat. We wait. Finally, a tow truck arrives. Our new best friend, Anthony, goes to work. He deftly gets a rod into the driver's compartment, hits the "unlock" button…and…nothing happens. He tries again. Nothing. He tries to open the car using the door handles. Still nothing.

Finally, we suggest trying to hit the unlock button on the remote. No luck –- the seats are too soft. Finally, Anthony hits on the idea of putting the keys on a hook and dragging them out the small crack in the door. After a few failed attempts, and with our hearts racing, he triumphantly pulls the keys out. We buy him a beer and hang out for a few minutes, amazed at his skill and our dumb luck.

Then, finally, on the road to Philly. We arrive around 5 a.m., exhausted, brain dead, and with an entire day to recover.