Excalibur did it--from North Dakota to the Mississippi River and back again. Sadly, his electric front passenger-side window took a hit; it rolled down never to rise. Cats in Decorah, Winona, Rochester, Fargo, and points along the way have without doubt explored Excalibur's interior each night.

After Thursday's show in Waconia, I drove my friend Brandon to Minneapolis. I stayed in his apartment, which was filled with noise, kitty urine, and cigarette smoke. I slept three hours, got up, walked along the Mississippi, did a radio interview, and cruised south to Iowa.

The house show in Decorah, Iowa, was filled with friendly, enthusiastic people. It took me some time to focus, because of the jittery state I was in from the drive, but it turned out to be a memorable and fun show. I stayed at the home of my sweet friends' Benji & Aryn.

Saturday I drove north to the Down 'N Dirty Bike Club Basement in Winona, MN. The venue could be described as a purple-carpeted dungeon filled with angelic beer-brewing Huckleberry Finns and Pippy Longstockings. Good times there, as always.

After that, my troubadour pal Mike Byrd and I zoomed east to Rochester, MN, for the evening's second show, at our pal Derrick's house. A brown school bus of inebriated Winopunx (friends all) followed in our wake. This second show was about as unorganized as it gets, but not without its maniacal charms. The Rochester punks will not be forgotten. Alcoholism and raw fury ruled the basement for five hours. As if to drive the point home, somebody stepped on my cherished Casio keyboard and cracked it. Finally, around 3 a.m., I had an opportunity to sing. The crowd had moved outside by then, into Derrick's yard. Mike and I took turns crooning next to a campfire and beneath the stars. By that time I was beyond exhausted, but laying back, gazing at the stars, and listening to Mike's folk songs at 4 a.m. was sublime.

Greetings from Fargo, North Dakota. I'll review my last three shows in due time. Time to sleep......

Last night: Waconia, MN. Fun outside show with campfire and fireworks. Thanks Lynda & Steve!

Tonight: Decorah, IA. Email Benji for directions: benji315@hotmail.com

Tomorrow night (click on image to enlarge):


And also, another show in Rochester, MN, after the Winona show.

I'm on vacation, and the Mississippi River beckons. Tomorrow I head toward Wisconsin for some shows and visits with fellow knights and wizards. Godspeed, Excalibur. Godspeed, you Blue Emperor. Godspeed, O Viking-Horn'd Dragon Slayer! Travel decisively and securely toward your Goat-Heart'd summit. Go forth, Metal Beast, and ride the wind!!

"People Get Ready" as performed by Al Green.

Happy Earth Day. Here's an article on plants, if you're interested.

To spank or not to spank?

What would superhero Kool "Spankmaster" Keith do?

Speaking of superheroes, Spider-Man 3 will feature the villain Sandman. That means a lot of folks will be Googling for information on him and will, instead, stumble into my wicked web.

Here's an email I received today:


"Funny story.. My 6 year old wanted sandman and spider-man pics,we typed in sandman..and the rapping cowboy popped up. Now I"m sending friends to your site..love the sound!

Good Luck....Val from Chicago

P.S. Why no shows out this way??"


Welcome to my sand trap.

As I drove across the Ilo Slough Bridge earlier today, headed towards Killdeer, I glimpsed western paradise. A posse of tumbleweeds broke through a barbed wire fence and spun madly across Highway 200. Some banged against Excalibur before catching flight. In the slough, pelicans navigated the wind-driven water. On the opposite side of the road, bison grazed on greening prairie grass. It's blustery.

Last week I discovered a hilarious five-minute video on YouTube that I'd acted in (poorly) five years ago. My friend MacDawg produced it. I'd completely forgotten about it and had never seen it in completed form. I play the part of a psychopath who goes into Calvin Johnson's office and shoots him in the chest with a b-b gun. I was going to post it last evening. And then I read the tragic news from Virginia. It wasn't as funny after that.

The show on Saturday for the regional meeting of the National Association for Interpretation was rockin'. The NAI is dedicated to "advancing the profession of heritage interpretation," which includes workers at museums, parks, nature centers, zoos, botanical gardens, aquariums, and so on. I fit right in.

I made the front page of the Dunn County Herald today. If anyone wants a copy, send $1.25.

My address:
Chris Sand
PO Box 7
Dunn Center, ND 58626

It's a good, long article written by the editor, Billy Drown. Billy's my new drinking buddy, even though we have yet to make it to the Ilo Bar in Dunn Center, and even though I don't drink more than a beer or two a week. It's the idea that counts.

After tomorrow's show in Dickinson, I'm going to Sadie's for a drink. "Sadie's," by the way, is synonymous with the Ilo Bar, 'cause she's the owner. I don't go there often, and I feel bad about it. The reason I don't go often is that everyone's so damn generous in Dunn Center that I tend to drink more alcohol than I can enjoy.

It was a good morning. I slept through my alarm. Heated up water in my new orange kettle and made tea. Ate cereal. Looked out the window at the sparkling snow and blue sky. Saw a bunny hopper.

At work I finished painting the office, kitchen, and bathroom. Picked up mail at noon and found a couple packages, one from my farmer/burlesque friends who live near Concrete, Washington. They sent seed packets, a couple kitschy hand towels--one with a picture of Johnny Cash flippin' the bird and one of the Virgin of Guadalupe--and a shirt (see mugshot, right). Chickadee wrote, "The farm looks good--spring is finally here! We're eating nettles and fiddlehead ferns nearly every day and will do some tilling soon. . . . Laguna is preparing to build herself a 12'x16' cabin this summer."

And to top things off, Jimmy Rollins hit two homers for my Fantasy Baseball team.

Yo ho ho.
The snow won't go.
We need the moisture, tho'.
Grow, grow, grow.

June berries fat.
Old cowboy hat.
Baseball stat.
Baby punch cat.

Once the blush of the Beloved
Descends on you,
There is no going back
To being a green apple.
(Traditional saying)

To the left is a picture of my new nephew/cousin--baby Jalen! Apparently at three days Jalen was lifting his head and looking about. The doctor calls him a prodigy.

Happy Easter, everyone. It's a cold, sunny day in Dunn County.

I spent eight hours yesterday with the Executive Director of Preservation North Dakota tooling around the County and taking stock of historic buildings. One of them was the Hutmacher Complex.

My Fantasy Baseball team is not off to a good start. My star players, Albert Pujols and Carlos Zambrano, are slumping. Two of my pitchers are on the disabled list.

To the left is a draft of the homepage for a Dunn County Historical Museum website. Click on the image to enlarge.

It's been a snowy couple of days. In other Dunn County news, Grandpa beat Grandma and me again at pinochle last night. Killdeer rancher, rocker, & former bull rider Beni Paulson is engaged to a Bismarck gal. Rumor has it that the Muddy Boot Saloon might be up for sale. Dunn Center neighbor Alice Goetz broke her heel and is hobbled for a couple weeks yet. She's still trying to sell Alice's Restaurant; if you're interested in buying, let me know and I'll tell 'er. My friend Margi Coyle, the eagle biologist, may return for a visit this week. She's been living in Grand Forks, working on her doctorate. She wants to meet the new infant in town, Ella McFadden.

Happy Palm Sunday, April Fool's Day, and Opening Day of the 2007 baseball season.

I wish I had a good joke to play on somebody.

I don't understand why more people don't move out to western North Dakota and plant roots. What's everyone skeered of? If I was Dunn County's Tourism Director, this might be my pitch:

Dunn County is a potential paradise for anyone who likes the idea of building and being part of a community. Take, for instance, tonight's Annual Walleye Fish Fry at the Buckskin in Killdeer. For $10 one can gorge on Lake Sakakawea's tastiest pike, 15 different kinds of salad, homemade desserts, and more. We've got steak fries, pow wows, quilting bees, and rodeos. Quality homes can be bought for less than 50 grand. We've got mountains, rivers, lakes, and badlands. Traffic is minimal, living is affordable, the scenery is incredible, and people are hospitable. Plus, I live here. We could really make something happen, Kid. Give it a thought. Dunn is #1.

The journalists, Kate & Debrin, departed this morning. They were great guests. They stayed at my house the last five nights and cooked gourmet meals with wine and cobbler. Last night they invited Mom, Dad, Grandpa, Grandma, and me over for a farewell supper.

Debrin took more photos of me in the last five days than have been taken in my entire lifetime. The article that Kate will write might take a while to be published, but when it does, I'll add a link.

Michael Jordan circa 1990. --------------->

Beautiful weather and a pounding headache.

I was recently persuaded to join a Fantasy Baseball league, and today was draft day. Albert Pujols was my first pick. Then came Jimmy Rollins, Carlos Lee, Carlos Zambrano, Bobby Abreu, Bill Hall, Ben Sheets, John Smoltz, Trevor Hoffman, Jorge Posada, Todd Helton, Michael Barrett, Tadahito Iguchi, Marcus Giles, Mike Cameron, Eric Gagne, Andy Pettite, Randy Johnson, Jim Edmonds, Dan Wheeler, and finally, Chris Duffy.

I'm being interviewed this week by two students from University of Missouri-Columbia. The photographer, Debrin, took literally hundreds of pictures today, mostly of me. It's flattering, but unnerving too, to be a "subject" of an article.

P.S. Click on the photograph and you'll see a magic trick.

My cousin Annie and her husband Ellery gave birth yesterday to a 23-inch-long baby boy they've named Jalen Marque Williams.

Earlier this week my friends and neighbors Sarah and Ron McFadden gave birth to a baby girl they've named Ella.

Today I sang at the funeral of Dick Patchen, the husband of my co-worker, Jeri. I chose Ben Harper's "Waiting on an Angel." Dick's ashes were buried at the Oakdale cemetery north of Killdeer.

Today is the first day of spring. Good things seem ready to rain down upon us all. If we can just shake the boredom, get the rest and relaxation we need, and atone for our war crimes, we'll be alright.

It'll be sweet.

P.O. Box 7 is my lucky mail locker, cz most days I get a package or two. Just random gifts that people mail. Some folks send simple post cards. Others send friendly letters filled with random chotchkas: gum, dollar bills, hair, photographs, baseball cards, stickers, and checks for CD purchases. Today, Doug & Kathy sent me an orange plastic moose named Tyrone who plays banjo. His antlers poke through his cowboy hat. If you press on his sheriff's badge he sings country music and raps.

Grandpa came from behind to beat Grandma and me in Pinochle tonight. We drank beer and ate pizza first. Supper conversation revolved around the dust bowl days of the early '30s. Grandma remembers there being so many grasshoppers that it was challenging not to slip on their guts--even on gravel roads.

Dunn Center was as alive as it gets today. Close to 150 people--standing room only--attended the annual St. Patrick's Day event at the Dunn County Museum. The first performers were the Prairie Belles, an all-woman bluegrass trio from the Halliday (North Dakota) area. Then came the Fiddle Kick Cloggers, a great dance troupe from Dickinson. Five blocks away, at City Hall, the Senior Strutters sold pie and ice cream. In the evening the Ilo Bar provided corned beef and cabbage with green beer to the music of the Larsen Brothers from the Taylor area. The parade down Main Street was short and festive, lasting all of about four minutes.

My Aunt Christi & Uncle Ken are visiting from Colorado. Tonight I listened to Ken and Grandpa tell some good horse stories. As a boy, Grandpa almost lost his life in some close calls with runaway horses. Ken told about a barrel racer friend of his who got kicked in the face and blinded when she was eighteen. Ken's dad, Walt, who happens to be in the North Dakota Cowboy Hall of Fame, got all his teeth kicked out when he was a youngster. My cousin Nikki got the top of her scalp peeled back by a horse's hoof when she was four. I know lots of other painful stories; anyone out here can reel off a few. Fortunately, I've never been kicked, bitten, or dragged by an equine--only shied off.

Happy St. Patty's Day! Danny Boy is the song. The picture of the last four days, however, is Tommy Boy. Tom is my uncle--my mom's youngest brother. To see a picture of him as an adult click here. He's half Irish, by the way.

Today's song is by Israel Kamakawiwo'Ole: "Somewhere Over the Rainbow."

Song of the day. Wayne Newton recorded this when he was sixteen, apparently.

Song of the day: Joni Mitchell in 1970 singin' "California."