Booking done, travel arrangements made, press releases out, van packed...Desert Rat Tour 2009! Whoo hoo! Here we go!
"Uh...Rain? What does this light mean?"
"I don't know - maybe we should call Kim."
Kim says: "Can you send me a picture of it?" "Uh, sure." "Oh, that? No problem. It happens all the time."
Rock and roll! Desert Rat Tour 2009! We're on our way to Las Vegas!
I bet you didn't know there was a great Mexican restaurant in Boron. Mmmmm. Sasha requires that I drink a Cadillac Margarita. I'm not driving, so hey!
We travel along part of old Route 66 past a graveyard of rusting signs, barking dogs and laundry.
Las Vegas rises from the desert. We pick Danny up at McCarran, who is fueled on a hot dog and coffee and ready to rehearse. I like that in a musician. After lovely sodas and guacamole at Sasha's folks', we head to a nice hotel. I cook spaghetti in my super-groovy modern room...
and we go over all the songs and sound cues for "Cinderblock Bookshelves."
Sasha returns from dinner with her parents, and she and I are beat. But Danny is not, and is off to the Bellagio for drinks with the Blue-Haired Blonde.
In the morning, after a refreshing frigid soaking from the showerhead that is unexpectedly ON and POINTED DIRECTLY AT ME, we get in the van and set out to drive six hours towards Colorado. Did you get any sleep, Danny? "Oh, yeah, plenty. I slept from about 6:00 am to 9:00."
Sasha used to live in a little town in Utah called Brianhead, so we make a pilgrimage up the mountain, stopping to break the law in a very civilized way:
Sasha loves this country:
She lived here for years. But it's changing, which is making her a little blue. More buildings, new chair lifts, more sprawl.
But she is cheered by a sighting of Mr. & Mrs. Claus, on their summer vacation:
There is only one place to stay in Green River, Utah. Literally: most of the hotels are boarded up. But this place is really very nice.
Except, as Danny helpfully points out, for the ominous threat of the Green River Killer...omigod, there he is, Sasha, watch out!
"Howdy, Ma'am. Are you traveling alone?"
I decide it's probably safe to have dinner with him in a crowded place. But I think he is affiliated with a street gang...
Then we come out of the mountains, driving past my old school, and into Durango. I don't remember it being quite so touristy - but I guess it was. Being broke and underage gives you a slightly different perspective. But we don't really have time to look at much, as we are racing to Fort Lewis College for the show.