Back in the desert. We played in San Diego and Long Beach. I ended up having a blast at both shows. It’s aggravating though, when all the audience wants to hear are old songs. Does that mean the new ones aren’t as good? I don’t know, this is a fickle sport. Not that I can really fathom doing anything else. I feel a need to write again.
I spoke with my parents today, it being Easter. My mom mentioned how my girlfriend alluded to us having children. Uhhhhh…. My older brother just had a baby, well, his wife did. My younger brother is engaged. Babies and marriage for your humble narrator? Not now, when I enjoy a job that pays $7.50 an hour, and a job I may not have when I return from this vigorous touring. We’ve played 16 shows. I crave the performance. But do I crave the actual music? Or am I over analyzing everything, my normal trait? I think too much. About everything. Being out here with miles and miles upon hours and hours of empty space to just sit and think, I am plagued with ponderings. And that gets me into trouble.
The desert is gorgeous. Just off the rest stop oasis of Barstow, and now we pass the desert’s answer to the Hollywood sign: CALICO, perched to the north in the maroon mountains.
Desert. Desert. Desert. And then Primm, Nevada! A taste of the madness to come. There’s Buffalo Bill’s, Carl’s Jr., McDonald’s, Starbucks, Chevron, Texaco…everyone out here is on their way to Vegas. Whiskey Pete’s sits across the street. The rest stop offers slots and everything here is chaos. Some guy tried to sell me cologne, now he eyes the van. Billboards everywhere announce: “WINNINGS IN THE AIR!” This, kids, is America. Hundreds of thousands are on their way to a mirage.