Just passing through the transcendental villa of Mt. Shasta. Aliens, bigfoots, crystals, blonde Jesus murals, whatnot. After last night's performance in Nevada City we drove here, and arrived at 4:00 a.m. At 3:40 a.m. we saw the famous Walking Man. He was hoofin' it south on the I-5; he wore not much more than a shroud of clear plastic. Jen saw him last time she toured through this area.
The Nevada City show was cool. Didn't sell much of anything, but made enough at the door to pay for my third of hotel expenses here in Mt. Shasta. The venue was called the Magic Theatre. Before the show we watched a great documentary on the seminal New York punk band, the Ramones. Nevada City is a mecca to which I will return and return until crowds of 200 or more pack the rustic rafters of Glory, and crown me the great Prince of Gold.
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