Ithaca, Castaways
I don't have much time, but if I don't write anything now I'm going to forget everything I wanted to write about. I'm alone in a hotel room in Auburn, Massachusetts at 10:00 Friday morning. Tim's gone off to yoga, Andy's gone off to do God only knows what! I don't even want to know what that guy does in his spare time! Keep me out of it. Me, I'm blissfully alone for an hour or so - though that's not to say I'm not enjoying myself on this trip, and with these people I've been in a band with for fifteen years now. How this could still be enjoyable, I do not know.

There is actually little to report. I'm going to make some stuff up, but first I wanted to mention the one thing I've seen that doesn't require exaggeration, which was the northern lights as seen from Indiana on Tuesday night, did you see them? Did you see them, Indianans? I think everyone could have seen them if they tried, they were green and they were glowing and they filled the entire northern sky. There were curtains and chandeliers and clouds of light, and everything moved very fast. For a while, driving along the lake, I watched what looked like an irradiated cloud & thought, "oh those must be the northern lights, woop de doo." But gradually the cloud started to move and blur around, and then these lines started appearing, and then it started to go totally nuts. When we stopped in Toledo I drove the van to a dark little housing development & tried to take some pictures of the sky. I have my doubts, but maybe I got lucky.

Other than that: Ithaca was fucked up because Andy wandered off about 30 minutes before we played, & didn't show up until about 30 minutes after we were supposed to start. A bunch of people went out to find him, even a couple people in cars drove got into the search. First it was funny, then it was strange, then it was scary - there's a river right behind the club, & a flimsy deck... we were nervous. Still, Tim and I decided to just get it over with & got onstage, but just as we started the intro to "Party in Warsaw" (I was gonna do it solo), Andy ran in from the back door, soaking wet from head to toe. What the fuck! Where had he been? Why was he all soaking wet with water? What a crazy tale this is!

After Ithaca we drove to a mildewy little hotel near I-88 (or I-81, or both) and slept the sleep of the damned. By morning we were all dead drunk, but happy to play a round of two-on-two tag football with Jake and Colin from the Karl Hendricks Trio. (Karl and Andy stood off to the side, holding hands.) Tim and I won the rousing game, 3 to 2. I'm not kidding about that - we won!

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