Travel

Funky Town Donuts Is The Donut Shop Fort Worth Deserves

Posted on by Hello. I'm Trip

I like donuts. I REALLY like donuts. So much so that when I heard Funky Town Donuts were finally having their grand opening and it is less than a 10 minute drive from my home, you better believe I was there at 8am to join the other deep fried dough fanatics for some oh, so sweet treats.

I’ve been very fortunate enough to travel and experience some of the great bakeries that this country has to offer. I’ve been to the ever popular Voodoo Donuts in Denver & Portland. I still lived in Denton, TX when Hypnotic opened. I’ve been to Springfield (yes, THAT Springfield) and had a very large Lard Lad donut, and I’ve been to the “local” Dallas donut shop, Glazed. You could imagine my excitement when it was announced that Fort Worth was finally getting a boutique donut shop in close proximity to me.

Around this area there are loads of your typical mom & pop donut shops. You know, the ones that open at 5am and close by 11am. The ones run by the sweet asian family who will occasionally tack on a few donut holes because it’s the eighth time you’ve been in there that week. The kind of donut shop where the most “exotic” donut you can get is a bear claw or a strawberry sprinkle donut. Don’t get me wrong. These mom and pop shops are great and do a great justice for the early risers of our community.

Fast forward to May 28th. I woke up early that morning knowing good and well that there would probably be a decent crowd for Fort Worth’s first gourmet donut shop. I arrived around 8am and there was a pretty decent turn out already. I waited a good hour and a half, I was only able to get six donuts, and Funky Town was sold out of most things. The half dozen that I did get were INCREDIBLE.

I’m a huge fan of The Samoa, The Witherspoon, The Double Stuff, and the S’moors. Runner up goes to Bart (mostly because the name is reminiscent of Bart Simpson). They also offer vegan and gluten free options!

Funky Town Donuts is located at 1000 8th Ave in Fort Worth. Check it out if you haven’t had the chance yet.

Funky Town Donuts Menu
Funky Town Donuts Wall Mural

 

“Empty Words From Empty Heads”

Posted on by Hello. I'm Trip

Yesterday, I spent the better part of ten hours making the drive on the 70E from Kansas City to Columbus. I really don’t mind driving. I spend that time turning my brain off, zoning out, finding new music, or my new favorite: audio books. But this drive was different. I spent the majority of this drive figuring out why in the fuck it’s 2016 and I’ve just experienced the worst extent of racism in the last eight years.

I have been very lucky & fortunate to travel the United States since I was 17 years old. On the surface (and especially at 17) traveling and touring the way I did was a dream. I got to meet a lot of really cool people, see a lot of really cool shit, and see some of my favorite bands. As I’ve gotten older and looked back on my experiences, on a deeper level, I have been given perspective. I’ve gotten to see the United States through different eyes. I’ve gotten to see what life is like outside of my Dallas / Fort Worth bubble. I’ve gotten to experience life and began to realize that for better or worse, it’s not all that is portrayed on the news or the media.

When I first started out with my travels, I worked for a Rastafarian by the name of Inoch. An ambitious black man with an entrepreneurial spirit from Trinidad / Tobago. He became not only a boss and a friend, but also a mentor. Living in my Dallas / Fort Worth bubble, I often heard about racism on the news or was taught about it from the history books of my public school education, but never REALLY though it was a real deal or a common occurrence in today’s age and society. But at a young age, I quickly saw how cruel the world can be.

After a long three-day weekend or before really long drives to the next show, it was common that we would get a hotel for the night. On several occasions, Inoch would walk inside to get a room and walk right back out. OK, not so weird. Big rock festivals. Loads of people in town. No vacancy. On to the next one. But after a few times of this happening, I decided I would go in and try to book a room. More times than I can count, Inoch would return to the van after being told “No rooms available.” I would then follow up behind him, ask for a room, and most times would have options between smoking or non-smoking, one or two beds, and floor level preference. The first couple times this happened, I was in shock.

Situations like that were shitty, no doubt. But all-in-all, the good times far outweighed the bad. Racism happened here and there, but at the end of the day it’s just words. You have to dust it off and realize that it’s intolerance and lack of education that makes people say or act the way they do.

Fast-forward to present day. I’ve been traveling and doing these rock gigs from nearly a decade now. And after these past three weeks, I can honestly say that I have not experienced racism to this extent EVER. It is absolutely mind blowing. Just when I thought I’ve seen or hear it all, some racist or bigot would go off on his tangent and leave me speechless.

My good friend and fellow road dawg, Rafael is on this six-week tour. A hispanic that seemed to be encountering and dealing with racism the most on this tour. Little nuances or subtleties would happen here and there, but in my head I was like, “Nah. He’s just taking things personal. People aren’t racist out here.” I sort of turned a blind-eye to the matter not wanting to believe it. But it happened. Over and over again.

Here’s what really kicked things off. Here is the main driver behind me writing this blog. Here is what caused me to snap: A guy steals a t-shirt from my booth. Not THAT big of a deal. It happens and usually results in me getting the product back and telling the person to kick rocks or they are getting kicked out. Not this motherfucker. He had the audacity to lie to me and say he didn’t steal it. To which I responded, “OK, man. Just answer me this. If you didn’t steal this shirt, how did it end up around your neck? I’m the only one here and I know for a fact I didn’t sell it to you.”

He took a step back and said, “I didn’t steal shit. It was your fucking nigger that stole that shirt. Not me.” That’s where I’ll end the story.

On this drive I could only ask myself, “Why?” Why does racism continue to exist? Why am I experience it tenfold than I have in previous years / tours? I can wholeheartedly say that I believe since Trump has gained the traction that he has and has risen to prominence in the manner that he has, it was made racism, bigotry, and hatred less taboo and more acceptable. These neanderthals are coming out of the woodwork and spewing the stupidest shit I have ever heard. And it hasn’t always been this way.

I fear a future where the next potential leader of the greatest nation on earth stands on a platform of hatred and intolerance.

*Featured Image by Scott Uchida

Free As You Want To Be

Posted on by Hello. I'm Trip

I’m going to kick off this blog by rewinding to almost two years ago. Really, that’s how this whole story molds into present day to this exact moment in time that my brain decided to sit down and write this blog at a mere acquaintance’s kitchen table in south Philly…

January 1st, 2014 – Less than a month ago, I graduated from college and landed my first “big boy” job in the “Live Music Capital of The World.” Nine months later, I lost my job and stuck out the remaining three months of my lease working as a server at a Vietnamese restaurant and a host at a ritzy wine bar to keep my head a float. After applying to several agencies and having multiple interviews with the same companies, I could only hear, “Everything is great, you just lack experience,” so many times before I called it quits. At the end of me lease and at the end of the year, I packed my bags and headed back to the Dallas / Fort Worth area.

At this point in time, I had been together with my girlfriend for nearly two years, and moved in with her. I lived with her just shy of three months before we broke up. I had no place to go or live. I hung my head in shame and asked my parents to move back home.

In just over a year, I went from a college graduate, being paid salary in one of the most booming cities in the country, to being broke, jobless, car-less(in my string of bad luck, a drunk driver totaled my truck right before I move back to DFW), and had my parents as roommates. TIGHT.

March 2015- It only took about a month before I got stir crazy and got sick and tired of life beating me down. I get a phone call from my good friend about going on tour in the coming months (to be fair, this wasn’t a completely out of the blue phone call. My friend and I had been talking for awhile about me working a few shows here and there, work permitting). I agreed and my tour season was getting ready to kick off. After several months of bad luck, there was finally a tiny little light at the end of tunnel.

October 11, 2015 | 7:17pm- For the most part, I’ve been on the road full-time for the last seven months. I’ve been very fortunate enough to have certain people in my life believe in me and show me love, even when times are rough. That belief and love have given me the opportunity to travel coast-to-coast several times this year, meet incredible people, and see just how beautiful (and in the rare occasion, how shitty) America really is and I couldn’t be more thankful. It took me seven months, thousands of miles of solo drives, and some harsh looks at reality to come to this conclusion:

You can be as free as you want to be. Don’t get sucked in to some life that you hate just so you can pay the bills.You’ve got a short time on this rock that’s hurdling through space. Make the very best of the cards you’ve been dealt. Find something you love and let it consume you. If you don’t love it, don’t do it.