Tuesday, January 24, 2006

I just got a recharging massage in Eugene, Oregon, from my friend Jennifer. Last night her hot tub helped ease the transition from sunny California to the foggy northwest.

To catch up . . . the downtown LA show at The Smell was fine, befriended a homeless El Salvadorean fellow named Daniel who thought my folk songs were "wack" (but loved the raps), stayed w/ friends Joanna and Reid in Long Beach, drank a beer with Anna Oxygen while the mariachi band serenaded a couple.

The next day Bill's ex-girlfriend, Eden, climbed in with us and we all drove to Big Sur for the Quiet Quiet Ocean Spell music fest. A pod of whales spewing misty geysers from their air holes and a classic sunset greeted our arrival. What followed was equally psychedelic--two days of gently waving music transmissions and tree-climbing ocean flights.

Then Bill and I drove to Oakland for our final show. It was modestly attended, but good enough. My cell phone, which I'd left in Long Beach, got returned by Joanna and Reid. I recited cowboy poetry to my homegirls, Annessa and Jolene (from the Flathead Rez in MT). I ate the best burrito ever after the show. Bill and I crashed in a dusty theatre storage room in the Mission District of San Francisco. At 8:30pm I saddled up Excalibur and drove nine hours north, to where I jog my memory and blog.

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