Friday April 13, 2007
Tour Diary - Day One

Brandon is behind the wheel. We’re dodging hopped-up semi-trucks and superstitious little old ladies. Juicy’s riding shot gun, coming in and out of the conversation like he’s waking from a nap on the couch on a lazy Sunday afternoon. He’s got John Hiatt on his I Pod and it’s crankin’ – but he loves him some baseball, so if you’re talking about the Reds, he’s somehow able to hear you over the drums and the guitars, the road noise and the engine, and he’s in.

We start off healthy, drinking potions – homemade vitamin drinks and fancy imports that have 300x the antioxidants in just one serving. We take our multi-vitamins and our Emergen-Cs. We grease the wheels, tune-up the engine, change the oil, and rotate the tires.

Turn the key.

(Don’t put your key in the ignition if you can’t handle the curves, I like to say.)

Juicy couldn’t watch Borat all the way through. It was too disgusting for him. The rest of us are quoting it ad nauseum. And laughing our fool heads off. The best medicine. I’ve always been one of those hard laughers. Not dainty, pretty, polite or appropriate. I like to laugh and I laugh hard. I believe the phrase is ‘laugh your face off.’ It’s no wonder I’ve surrounded myself with people with great senses of humour.

Shakey and Mickey are sharing road stories and debating whether or not they should try this new antioxidant drink that Krystal (Brandon’s wife) gifted us with. Linford and I dumped it down-the-hatch like it was the fountain of youth. Mickey’s threatening.

He does. He likes it. We are accusing Brandon of being our cult leader and this is just his version of koolaid and we’re all going to kick off in a few minutes. He assures us we won’t die but we might all have to poop soon.

Mickey and I are trying to figure out why, since Don Imus has been relieved of his duties, Rush Limbaugh hasn’t been let go yet. We want to know why the highway workers are clearing miles of healthy beautiful trees from the green space in the middle of the Kentucky highway, and why the drummer for Metallica does that thing with his tongue,

and we want to fix the world.

Jake is reminiscing about the time he came home from playing a great gig in Amsterdam and got the call to come and help out a buddy run the Roto-rooter down a clogged drain at a trailer park.

And then there was that time he fell into an open septic tank.
It’s good to be on the road again.

We’re on our way. See you soon.
With much love,
Karin

"The Goose"
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Three's company
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