2011 is meant to be spent in Hot Springs, we’ll be here. Mostly. So come by and see us! We’ve got a lot going on (at least that is what my therapist said to say)!

Cheers!

Cheryl

The month of December will fly by to be sure, we have our Christmas duties to perform in North Carolina, which we gladly do, considering how fun it really is to be on the other end of thankless house cleaning. Then we will head on to Florida, and continue our extended adolescence, as we still giggle like school children when we empty my parents liquor cabinet.

Slim Christmas and Yuletide Carol will make their worldwide debut next Thursday in Little Rock, with the good people from the Arkansas Times. We’ll be playing out on the streets in three different locations around town. Maybe you’ll see us, but not if your still in line at Wal-Mart. Then there will be a smattering of performances around the state through out the month of December. We are looking forward to spreading the good news of the holidays, in case some people still don’t know. In the meantime, we’ll be at the Brau Haus, doing what we do best, drinking that good beer and playing some tunes. Hope to see you there sometime!

This was an old Hiawatha car we saw in Minneapolis. Zephyr was pretty upset it didn't look like this.

We took the Hiawatha line from Milwaukee to Chicago on Monday afternoon. This is a commuter train that runs several times a day. Taking the train into Chicago is always a grand experience, in that there are so many trains making their way into Union Station, and it is such an industrial city. Zephyr has taken on terms like “shunting” or “intermodal box cars” or “manifest”. I am so proud.

For once, Zac seemed small.

We showed up and gave Beth and Willie a call. They promised to be there soon, and told us which big city intersection to stand at. You sure feel small standing in all those tall buildings, all the people, all the electricity. Marveling at the architecture, at one choice which could equal thousands of dollars, extraneous glass panels that serve no purpose but to decorate these man fingers. We spotted the Sears tower, and considered if it were to be called The Itinerant Locals Tower. Catchy? Willie showed up and we all jumped in his minivan and he confessed they were actually in the middle of a huge catering gig. The deal was they would dump us off at the palace, and we would entertain ourselves till the madness was over. They live in the heart of Pilsen, which is the mexican neighborhood, in an old theater. It was a theater of the Czech persuasion that was built in the late 1800′s. This place is incredible. But more on that later. We headed down the road, looking for adventure, and whatever comes our way.

No caption necessary here.

Ended up eating a bunch of pastries and riding the L. We went around the city loop, and finally Beth and Willie called wondering where we were. Time flies when every city block is a 1/2 mile. We headed back, we actually got kind of caught up in the promise of 1/2 price day at a big thrift store, and went on a wild goose chase to find it. We never found it, but enjoyed watching the trains in this huge train yard connect and disconnect. We returned to Beth and Willie and had a little happy hour in their new restaurant, which is just lovely, and then they took us out to eat. We went to “the Half Shell”, which was so good. Such good seafood, I forgot we were in the midwest! This was a restaurant that Beth grew up going to, and she shared with us so many of her memories of being a kid in the city. After dinner (which put Zephyr to sleep after eating an oyster) we took the scenic drive, up the Michigan Mile and through downtown. It is so fun to drive in a city late at night, when it sleeps, if you will. Beth had a million stories, most of which I missed because I was in the way back of the van with the two kids worming and snuggling all over me, and the music was on and the windows were down. Pretty dreamy, just that. Never mind the view!

This is soooo Chicago. Playing in the fire hydrant.

Next day we were just gonna run out to a music store and then catch up with Shea, Shea our friend from Hot Springs and her two girls. Just running out somewhere when you don’t know where you are going is always a gamble in the big city. We hopped on the train, and then another, and then walked, and the walked some more, and then we were there. At the crack of 2 PM. The music store was a maze of rooms, all with different themes and instruments. It is always at that moment when I freeze and can’t remember what it is I would buy if I could buy something. There was a pink guitar case, a pink violin, and a pink ukelele, and a gong the size of my kitchen wall. It all would be fun to have, and I don’t really need any of it. They had a tuba mute, and upon comparison, I am so glad we didn’t get that tuba mute in Tucson. Actually, there are so many things that seemed like a good idea at the time, but when you really reflect on how many times you would have moved an item, it seems brilliant that you left it behind.

After the music store, everyone was starving, so we ducked in for a couple of burritos, and then met my old friend Brian Kash at a park with kids running around. We quickly summed up our lives over the past 9 years since we’ve seen each other, and parted ways. Us to head back for our gig at the Honky Tonk BBQ, and he to play racquetball with his buddy.

Zac informed me that in all that train riding and chaos, that we wouldn’t have time stop downtown and hang out with Shea at Millennium Park. Time management gets away from me sometimes. On our walk back we got to witness the ultimate Chicago street scene, these kids had unscrewed the fire hydrant and were playing in the street. The amount of water that was coming out of there was unreal, and the kids were ecstatic. One guy came through in his minivan, and got totally soaked, then he drove through the spray, unrolled his window, and tipped one of the kids a dollar. I love it. We got back to Beth and Willies and there was already a mass of people gathering for the big show, so we ducked upstairs and dressed, and came back down and played a couple of hours. The gig was a mix of kids going apeshit, running, the Zoppe’s showing up, old friends, new friends, fun and laughter. Mixed with the smell of all that smoked meat. Yum. The venue was a little louder than I think most of the kids would have liked, so that contributed to their inability to settle out. After we played, we all sat down at the table together and had a small feast. The kids had gotten sucked upstairs, and were spending time on the computer, making accounts that “were free” to make monsters and profiles and probably make some corporation so much money for the next 10 years, all for free! But what do I care, I got to enjoy my dinner and eat till I was full.

Urban Bee Keeping

The kids eventually required attention, nothing this good could last forever, so we headed upstairs to work it out and get these little people to bed. Shea spent the night with us, so it was one giant slumber party in the huge oval czech theatre room.

The next morning was packing, hanging, eating, drinking, checking emails, and trying to get through the four hours it would take till we could leave. Willie Jr. was giving a bee keeping demonstration for homeschoolers, so we tagged a long. Day 44 of this trip was particularly long, and it was kind of hard to be zen about it all. The tour had been good, but long, and thorough, and we have covered a lot of miles. Willie pulled up, we threw our luggage in his van, and drove to Union Station with the side door open for some Chicago style air conditioning. We showed up just in time, and got settled into another 13 hour train journey, this time, the grand finale.

Us leaving and arriving, it really looked the same either way.

So here I sit in southern Illinois, knowing that in 8 short hours we will be in Little Rock, to see what has become of our car which was left in long term parking, to see how hot it really is in Arkansas in mid-July, to smell our musty, uninhabited house, to see if our garden is dead or alive, to see how much mail our mailbox can really contain, to see if anyone altered our house at all (since the guy who sublet our house never showed up), to see if the chickens are dead, and if there are any fallen trees, how tall is the grass is, and to slowly try to get back into the swing of things and see what Arkansas looks like this time around.

Mississippi River, again!

St. Louis in 45 minutes. I guess I’ll wrap this up and look at some cornfields, because tomorrow I probably won’t remember to stare out the window.

This is exactly how the kids feel about sitting in the backseat with a tuba.

Arrival time Milwaukee: 4 something. Through the miracles of modern technology, you no longer have to announce to the train what you need to tell your ride at the other end. You can just silently text these small details, instead of yelling into your crappy cellphone. We got to Milwaukee a little late, but that was the same late that afforded us that great breakfast in St. Paul. Evie was there right on time, and we loaded up her sensible car and headed for the hood. She lives in this great little mixed front porch kind of neighborhood, where when we get out of the car, she is reminding the old lady on the porch nearby that she is expected to bring mashed potatoes to the block party. After being there a few days, I did notice a trend of people that seemed to have a full time job of hanging out on their front porch, in their makeshift bistro on the street, and it sure does lend a friendly feel to a neighborhood.

Art, with Zephyr's mad face.

We watched the kids tear through their apartment, searching for toys, or things that could be used as toys, like the mouse on your computer, and we settled for a cup of coffee. That is like an adult toy. How boring. Then we did the tour, the basil plants, the tomato plants, the firepit, the porch, the wasps nest…Daniel came home from work, and we walked over to the corner store to get some wine. Dinner, wine, good friends, new music, fire pits, and warm summer weather. Deep breath, exhale.

Grilled chicken with a beer can up its dairyair. Only in Milwaukee, I tell ya.

We didn’t have a lot of time in Milwaukee, but like a true champ, Evie had it all planned out for us. We headed for the lake that her parents live on in Oconomowoc (about 30 miles due west of Milwaukee) and met up with Kim and her tribe.  I had met Kim back when Evie lived in Portland, and now with her and Sam and two kids in tow, I thought it would be fun to see them. Apparently so did Evie, because she put this day together. Kayaks, canoes, noodles, life vests, zebra mussels, invasive weeds, warm water, cold cuts, and PBR. What says summer like that?! How Wisconsin is a day at the lake? I think everyone in Wisconsin owns a “place up north on the water”, and however modest the place, it is a welcome getaway, because after you go through winter, you deserve a summer maxed out with fun fun fun. Those people are hardcore.

Might as well.

After we tried all the various activities available, including World Cup watching, we headed back to the house to get ready for the gig. I had saddled Zac with the job of cooking fish, and even though it took over an hour and he cussed me the whole time for asking him to cook, that meal was so good, complete with some home made hollandaise like sauce, and we all needed the good meal. It was so perfect, and though I feared we would be late, I decided to choose relaxing instead of panic, and it all worked out just fine anyway. We met Robert, the babysitter, who immediately had the kids wrapped up in a game of Uno, and we headed to the gig.

Rocking the Circle Cafe of Anarchy.

The gig was at a place called the Circle A Cafe. But the A has a circle around it, so really, I think everyone else in the world of Milwaukee calls it the anarchist cafe. Despite their love of anarchy, they were quite diligent in collecting a cover and charging for drinks, and reminding you to not drink on the sidewalk. I expected this place to be kind of big, because everyone went on and on about it, but it was a room.  A single room. Typical neighborhood Wisconny bar, just an “L” shaped bar, with a bunch of neons, and some nice lady behind the bar. We were playing with a band called “The Bitter Tears”. We met these guys in Hot Springs, when they came through for the Valley of the Vapors Independent Music Festival. They crashed at our house both times they have played in Hot Springs, and we get along gangbusters. Their show is a mixed up cruise through the demented mind of mankind, and their music is great to boot. We opened for them, naturally, they have a drummer and are just plain louder. I’m here to tell you, the people that were out that night were there to hear some tunes. A bunch of smiles, a packed house (that means about 40 people), everyone listening, I kind of felt like I was in that part of the movie when the unknown band starts reaching people, one by one, like electricity passing through your blood, and people start snapping their fingers and smiling, and by the end of your set, it is a full on mesh of euphoria and madness where people are throwing themselves into traffic. Or something like that. It was a fun show, a short show, a well received show, and a show that is now over.

They don't do this at home.

The Bitter Tears got up next, and though they were heckled and hooted at, somehow their costume choices made me think that perhaps they willingly invite that on some level. It was all fun, fun, fun.  The DJ came in at 10, to help raise money for something, and I tell you, if you wanna clear a room, let people know they are expected to support unknown cause #1 and put a DJ on who plays music so loud you can’t talk, but you have nothing to look at except the skinny guy in the corner flipping through his record collection. At least us other bands gave you something to look at. That would be the common thread between us and the Bitter Tears, something to look at. Those guys are fun. Fun fun fun.

We stayed out past our bedtime, and only went home when it was us alone in the bar with the DJ, and we cleared out quick. Evie and Daniel were already in bed.

Does this woman look worried?!?

Did I tell you the funniest thing ever? When we arrived, Evie told us that her dissertation was due on Tuesday. This was Saturday. Evie has been working on her PhD since 1948, when we first met. And this is the moment?  The weekend we decide to show up on our TRAIN TOUR and crash her small apartment, giving her nowhere to hide? Is that what she calls funny? Krikey! What were we supposed to do other than take her assurance that we were to all enjoy each other until she disappeared. Well, Monday morning she was gone. We were left with no one in the house because Daniel went up north to babysit his niece. That is always a great time to yell at the kids, and mess up their house further, so we did all those things, drank coffee, ate food, packed our bags, and waited for our chariot to arrive to carry us away to Amtrak.

On our way to the station, Daniel took us by his woodworking studio, and we got to see what kind of cool stuff happens in warehouses in Milwaukee. We also got to see exactly what it was that Daniel and Evie were going to be missing soon, as Evie already has a J-O-B and is moving to (are you ready? Drumroll please) MEMPHIS!!!  That is 3 hours away from Hot Springs!!! My new neighbor! Unless of course she fails her PhD because we wouldn’t get out of her house and the kids accidentally erased her hard drive, and Daniel left her because he wanted to take up the accordion and ride around on trains. I hope that doesn’t happen.

Daniel, thinking about living down south.

Onward Chicago!!

The pragmatic St.Paul Amtrak Station

Minneapolis! Our gateway to the midwest stop. Our generously booked stop. One of our favorite cities. The train was right on time and Eric was there to pick us up, promptly at 7:20 A.M. Now that is a good friend. We were all a little delirious after another strange night on the train, but happy to be in the twin cities.  We were staying in Robbinsdale, with my good friend Betsy, who was the lead choreographer at my summer in Glacier National Park. We have stayed in touch, and now find ourselves at similar stations in life, her with two kids almost exactly the same ages as mine, and same genders!

Betsy greeted us with good coffee, and good fresh fruit, and the kids were immediately swept up in the madness of kid world, and the great joy that comes with showing up to a house with toys for your exact age and gender. Betsy is a yoga teacher among many other things, and she was teaching a class at noon. Eureka agreed that she would like to go to yoga with her, so off the girls went, leaving Zac and I to watch the boys. When they came back, we wandered out into the town of Robbinsdale, and found a thrift store, a park, and a post office.  That night was lasagna for dinner, and Betsy and Eric were left with the kids while we went out to play our gig.

This night the gig was at Acadia Cafe in Minneapolis. We were to be the set break for “The Second Hand Opera”. When we arrived, we were (of course) early, and hung out for a little while, then decided to go on a walk. We went through this vast outdoors store, where I chatted to the shoe lady about shoes, and about sandals, and about combing outdoorsy shoes with fashion, and about people buying ridiculous shoes to be updated. Then we returned to the cafe, and the 2nd Hand Opera had begun. They were musical as all get out, and had some very thoughtful music happening. Even though the bar was mostly empty, the sound guy, who was really a sound guy, kept a tight reign on things, and gave them limitations that seemed amazingly tight under the circumstances. Like, “one more”. Who cares?! It is 9:30!! But rules are rules, and then we were up. We were slated for a 45 minute set, and we played it. We played it good. These people were listening to every word we said, every note we played, it was so sweet. And by the end, a few people had wandered in off the street and it seemed busy in there, we even got an encore. The Second Hand Opera’s second set was completely different than the first, but lovely nonetheless. When we finally packed up and went back out to the car, we were welcomed to Minneapolis by getting two parking tickets! Well, one was for parking ($42, our fault) and one was for expired tags ($102, their fault), but either way, it is no fun to accrue parking tickets when you have borrowed someones car. And it is no fun to pay $42 for being a parking nimrod when you just made $51 at your gig. But it is all about the story, right? Isn’t that a brilliant story? I mean LAUGH OUT LOUD in the aisle! Did you just fall off your chair at our misfortune? Great, then it was all worth it. Then as we were getting on the interstate, the most impotent fight ever was happening as three really large people were having this loud fight with this mid 90′s sedan parking in the on ramp, one person was trying to hike up the hill and the other two were yelling, and even though it seemed like some really degenerate people having a really stupid time, Zac approached the situation like we were on an episode of cops and yelled, “SHUT YOUR DOOR, WE ARE COMING THROUGH” out the window, and we went around them, taking the curb a little (don’t tell Betsy and Eric) and that seemed to fluster them further. I wonder if they are still there.

Crystal Rainbow Flower!

The next day was the day that Eureka had announced that she was ready to get her ears pierced. We headed out to the Minnetonka Mall and found our way to the classic Claire’s Boutique. Nothing has changed since I was eight, and that wasn’t exactly yesterday. Zac was all excited and had the video camera running, which excited the security guards, which excited the nicely dressed people, which excited the manager of Claire’s, which made her give Zac a yelling demand that he turn the video camera off. Naturally, he got all that on tape. That didn’t exactly set the right tone for Eureka’s big day, of puncturing her little lobes with metal rods. But Eureka wasn’t there for the ambiance, she was a child with a mission. She picked her studs with a stoicism that impressed even me (and you know I am hard to impress), and the lady made me sign all sorts of paperwork. Even at this point, she hadn’t cheered up a darn bit. I never even got her name. What a mall wench. I understood the new, kinder generation gets their ears pierced both at the same time, to avoid the kids who change their minds and have to be held down and forced to finish the job. But Miss Grouchy Mall Wart decided to do them one at a time, I think she was hoping it would interfere with our success, but not our Eureka. She was serious about this, and after the first ear, she just slightly flinched, and sat there still as a tree for ear #2. Her earring choice? Not the old golden stud. Not this child, she picked “Rainbow Crystal Flower”. I guess any kid with the name Eureka is naturally going to pick Rainbow Crystal Flower. If only they had put Unicorn in the name. Why not go all the way? After she pierced her ears, and we cheered her on, and congratulated her, and patted her on the back, the morning adventure made the awkward transition to four kids and three adults wandering around Claire’s like idiots fresh out of the looney bin, trying not to buy stuff for the kids, trying to keep everyone from freaking out, and just generally making Miss Mean Manager Pants uncomfortable and wishing we would leave. My dream of jolly Claire’s employees throwing in “bonus gifts” for Eureka for being so brave was dashed against the rocks. It is a cold, cold world out there, and they really just want your mailing address and your credit card. We cleared the mall as soon as possible, but not after hyperventilating outside of Abercrombie and Itch. What a stinky store! Do they all do that? Jeez!

We were so proud of Eureka that we decided to all go jump in the pool, which was minutes away. Eric’s parents were OUT OF TOWN, so it was POOOOOL PARTY!!!! Eric went over to Target and got frozen pizzas for the hungry pierced tribe of youth, and we lounged around the pool listening to classic rock just like the summer of ’69. Amy showed up with her two kids, Finley and Andrew, and we swam and chatted and soaked up our daily dose of Vitamin D.

That night we had our gig at the Bedlam Theatre. We got there around 8ish, and got to hang out with Erin and Jeremy. Jeremy just went to grad school in New York City! (said like a Pace Picante commercial) and they had literally only been back in the twin cities a few days, and were still reeling from the move. That is always a great time to catch up with people because they are just so gosh darn excited. The Bedlam Theater is this beautiful space in Minneapolis, this two story building with an awesome roof deck. You can sit outside on the roof, and watch the light rail trains go by, and see the twinkling lights of the city. It was so beautiful. We headed downstairs to set up in the black box theatre where we would be playing. This place was kind of big for a two top without amps, but we prevailed. We played about 45 minutes to a dancing crowd of people and got off the stage. At this point in the evening, I would have gladly left, but we had to wait till all the bands were done in order to get a cut of the door. The second band, The Dirt Brothers, actually are friends of Joe Power, our favorite art hermit here in Hot Springs. The third band was so full of people and noise and lead singers that I actually had to video a little of it, so I could tell people not to worry about missing out on a lot of night life, and that it is OK to stay home. At the beginning of the evening, I had called Betsy and said, Git on up here! You’d love this place! But when the third band cranked up and I knew we were there till the end, I was glad we were there alone. Erin and Jeremy checked out after we played. This was one friendly place, most of the people there were up for talking, so we had that. And for all you Minnesotans up there, the Bedlam Theater is losing their lease in 2 months, so if you want to check out that deck, better move fast.  Editorial note: that night we did not get a parking ticket.

Rocking the Neighborhood

Friday: Big hour party. Up till this point, Betsy had been playing it super cool, like she wasn’t about to have 60 people over to her house, but Friday morning, it came into sharp focus that maybe a few things needed to happen before the first partygoer arrives. I helped by sleeping till noon. Downtown Robbinsdale was having their famous “Wiz Bang Days” and that means ICE CREAM SOCIAL!!!!! At the bank! From the guy trying to get you to open a checking account! But I find saying “We are from Arkansas” usually works pretty well on the average bank sales pitch. We went in and enjoyed the ice-cream sandwich, yes we did. Then we went back to the house, and did our preliminary packing/laundry because after the party, it is pretty much sleep and go to train. (7:20 A.M.)

The party was great, it was well attended, we played too long, people bought CD’s, and we felt well supported. It was a nice mix of extremely nice people and small children everywhere, a dog here and there, lots of burgers, and the kids singing into the microphone that was set up on the amp that we didn’t use. The house stayed in tact, and Betsy’s brother Dan brought a big bouncy thing to put on the front lawn, and no one punched anyone in the face. And the best thing about a party full of breeders? 9 O’clock, everyone is GONE! That house was cleaned up and kids in bed by 10 (ish) and we were free to all express our own tiredness and go on to bed.

Proof that kids still think we are cool

Early the next morning, we hauled all of our junk out of the basement, loaded up the car, and headed back to the station. Ah, the rambling life of the itinerant musician. We were pretty darn tired, and hadn’t even fed the kids, just forced them up and in the car. Reyna and Boden couldn’t even budge to say goodbye, so we all hugged and Eric whisked us away to the station. Best news ever: Train was late. We had time to fetch breakfast. We ended up at this great old diner right by the train station in St.Paul that had all this great food. The waitress even took our picture! We got to reset the kids, feed them soundly, and experience the wonders of a avocado green diner. Onward Milwaukee!!!

Wish I was still there

**You might not think about this, but the train from Minneapolis to Milwaukee follows the Mississippi River for quite a while.

Fresh off the boat in Minot

Mysterious Minot. We had no contacts, no leads, no phone numbers, no relatives in Minot, and when we arrived at the train station at 9:22 PM, I began to wonder why we thought a night in Minot was such a neat idea. I was going to research our inevitable hotel room, but somehow procrastinated, thinking someone SOMEWHERE would write us, tell us about the people in Minot who were going to host us, and since no one did, there we stand. With our pants down. (metaphorically, please!)

We shuffled around the station for a bit, the train came and went, the ice-cream truck came and went, and the crowds thinned. We weren’t exactly downtown, and it wasn’t obvious from the looking which way was downtown. Hmmmmmm. We got a directional from a train guy, and headed up the hill into the business district. It was still light out, so the panic hadn’t set in. We got all the way to Papa Johns when we spotted a real live human smoking a cigarette. He told us about the Super 8 one way, and the Hillcrest local special the other way. It was a toss up which was closer. I went inside and called a few places, and it was mind-blowing what  night in Minot could cost a family of four! We voted to go with the local joint, which was $70 a night. I thought that seemed steep, but not until I saw the place. We started trudging up the hill (realizing why it was called Hillcrest) and no worries, only 16 blocks to go. We get to 8th street and pass a car dealer, and I seriously considered sleeping in the back of one of their trucks. Who would know? The kids have blankets, it couldn’t be worse than a night on the train, right?!  But I trudged on, the new responsible Cheryl gets hotel rooms.  Just when the kids voted to “stop and take a rest” (how many times have I heard that??) a couple in the parking lot at the bank yells out, do you guys need a ride?  Was it that obvious? Our train of luggage, the two small children at twilight, Zephyr in his crown? We talked for a minute, and they could tell we weren’t meth heads, and we guessed (still guessing of course) that they weren’t mass murderers, and we agreed that we could indeed use a ride to the up-Hillcrest Motel. Ah! But first! There we are by the Scandinavian Cultural Center. We had to check out this building that we had seen online, when researching Minot it IS the picture they use. It was a lot smaller in person, but our new friends Roz and Jason, said the Epcot version of Norway had an even smaller building. This was an all wood church, and it was truly amazing. They could not build one of these in Arkansas, it would rot. It was a church with incredible wood work on it, and then another building with a grass roof! Not a hippy in sight, and a grass roof!  Whatdoya know?!?

The illustrious Hillcrest.

We head off to meet our fate at the Hillcrest, and upon drive by, decide that perhaps we should just maybe, just maybe check out the Days Inn with a pool. We get there, and it isn’t anything to brag about either. There were a bunch of itinerant men drinking beer outside the lobby. Apparently Minot has oil in them thare hills, and people are moving, flocking in to make the big bucks. So hotel rooms are in high demand. They wanted a hundred bucks at the Days Inn, and it wasn’t even nice. We decided to go with the Hillcrest. You can’t imagine this, but try. The room, the office where you check in, just has an old phone outside and you pick it up and do your preliminary negotiations, and once you pass the “no bullshit” test, the old lady comes down with three cigarettes in her mouth and takes your money. The office had piles and piles of papers and books everywhere, and you just knew this lady was going to sell this hotel and cash out. She had stopped processing paperwork. Surely she was being audited. We get to our room, and it had real wood panelling on the walls, and purple lace on the curtains! Zac hadn’t asked about wi-fi, but there was no connection in sight. Ugh. Looks like TV till we pass out. Zac and I take showers and we all go to bed.

After a ‘sound’ (if you count the sound of the window unit) nights sleep we wake up at 11 and I realize that McDonald’s had stopped serving breakfast. I’m only half joking. Zac gets on the phone to call around and land us a gig. Zac, the mysterious wonder man dials up enough numbers in this nice midwestern town, that finally someone says, OH! You guys need to call Jerry Schlag! He plays accordion on the Amtrak! So Zac calls Jerry, who is deaf as a stump, and finally Jerry says WHERE ARE YOU? I’m COMING OVER. Jerry shows up, and Zac greets him outside and it is agreed that we will join Jerry and his two buddies and play with them this very afternoon at the Brentmore Nursing Home. We had just enough time to check out, eat lunch, and deliver our bags to the Amtrak station.

Load in for the big gig with Jerry

Zephyr going the extra mile (literally) in Minot, where we did a lot of walking.

We do those three things, Jerry picks us up, and we head to the nursing home to see what will happen. I always get a little nervous in these situations, first you have Jerry who is going to be a skilled accordion guy. Then you have a discerning group of old people who know exactly what they think an accordion should sound like, and probably want to hear “you are my sunshine” a lot more than “lawyers, guns, and money”.  And then it is a quiet, unforgiving environment where people are there to solely hear the music, and spend their time either loving or hating you.  Jerry and his guys cranked up and played a nice mix of music, Jerry was very svelte on the accordion. Uh-oh, I though. I hardly play any augmented sixth chords.  We got to play about twenty minutes of music, and in that time this nicely dressed couple got up and cut a rug to our tunes, it was fun. It was at that moment that I was also proud and glad to have my nice Diamond Accordion. That is a nice box, and it sounded great there. Our friend Roz and her two girls showed up to see what it is that we really do. I think by this time we had all concluded that none of us were nuts. Like in the bad way.

Taking it to a whole new level in Minot

Staying awake for the whole show, good job guys!!

After our gig, and our farewells to the nice people at the nursing home, Roz dropped us off at the ice skating rink for free skate. Not in financially free, but as in you are free to fall as much as you want. It seemed like we should hurry for free skate, but in hindsight, one hour of falling on ice is actually plenty of time. Zac got this kind metal walker for the kids so they could skate around not entirely unlike the old people at the nursing home. I noticed they didn’t have one for my size, so we were on our own as tall people. The music was coming out of a jambox  (funny, spell check doesn’t recognize jambox) on a shelf, and the tunes were the same as when I was a kid. I swear, I knew most of the songs, and surely I am not the demographic for an ice skating rink. There were some kids getting private tutelage for figure skating, and some other kids smaller than Zephyr skating around like pro’s. A Canadian and American Flag on the wall, and bleachers for ‘the game’. Minot is about 20 miles from the Canadian border on Highway 2. FYI.

Watch out, Stanley Cup....

Butt in the air!!

We returned our skates, and Roz, our ride fairy appeared out of nowhere and we were magically whisked away in her minivan to forage for some dinner. We dined at a Pita Palace or something like that, it was basically Subway but with Pitas instead of “fresh baked bread”. It rained for a little while, and on our way back to the train station, we stopped at McDonald’s for the second time that day and let the kids play on the plastic hell playground, when Eureka realized she had left her tiny hat in Roz and Jason’s minivan. I’m sure they just assumed it was our built in way to score a ride to the train station, and really, that was such a neat side effect, but Jason agreed to meet us at the golden arches and bring us the hat. And he did, and then gave us a lift down the hill to the train station, and the train was already there, early. That is just the kind of town Minot is, the kind of town that can make an Amtrak train early. They say, “Why not? Minot?” and the answer?  “Freezins the reason”  and they call it “Mind Rot” and they also call it the magic city.  We asked Jerry about that, a native Minotian, and he says he had no idea. Roz tells us Minot is the “Magic City” because it was like magic the way Minot appeared overnight when they were building the train tracks across this great nation. And I would like to say that the Coca-cola building in Minot has the prettiest display of glazed red brick I’ve ever seen.

Why not, Minot? You crazy people.

This is actually us leaving, but is looks just like when we arrived.

When we got to the station, it was cold and overcast, and we stood there dumbfounded for a minute or two, and then I saw Theresa. Theresa is the aunt of one of my great friends, Sari. Years ago, Sari and I headed out to the peninsula of Washington state, where Theresa and Mike were living in a little town called Port Angeles. They were headed out of state for a job interview and Sari had offered to babysit their boys, Connor and Sam, and I tagged along for the adventure. It was a typical Sari weekend, full of extra adventures and good times, and it seemed like a lot longer than a few days at that time. I had all these memories of this weekend, and I knew Theresa and Mike were stellar people, and their boys were awesome, and I had sat around and listened to their great and extensive CD collection, but to be fair, they were out of town, and hadn’t had a chance to develop the same fondness towards me. (just give them a chance, right?!) When it came time to call them, and ask them for a stay, I was good and excited.

Housing in East Glacier (welcome to summer!)

Theresa brought us back to their trailer, which is situated in the town of East Glacier, and was about a block away from the station. They had this huge tent set up for us, with three beds in it, complete with a table with kids books on it. Flashlights, blankets, towels, it was all there. The Hilton of tent accommodations. We went inside to hang out for a little while, and Theresa cooked us up some soup and grilled cheese, and coffee, and juice for the kids. This was my first insight into the fact that we were possibly dealing with a spoiler. On the little tables by the couch was an assortment of chips, cheetos, and a trail mix with a healthy dose of M&M’s. When you stay in places you don’t know well, you sometimes worry that your kids will get hungry and start acting crazy and you won’t know what to do about it. Well, I soon realized that in the house of Theresa, that would not be a problem. The kids were right at home, she had dug up some games and toys for them, but it was the clear plastic inflatable lazy boy chair that was the real hit. They liked to wear it on their head, and it was the target of many a game. After lunch, it was decided that Theresa and Mike were going to head to Kalispell to deal with some things, and the boys were headed to work, so we wandered over to the East Glacier Lodge to see what was happening in the world of Glacier Park Incorporated.

Freakout on the plastic chair

You may or may not know this about me, but back in the summer of ’95 I took a job with Glacier Park Incorporated. I was a waitress at the Many Glacier Lodge, in Glacier National Park as well as a cabaret actress/singer for the American Cabaret Theater’s production of “Summer Loving” which was performed in the basement. I have a lot of mixed feelings about the Park, as you work this job for this giant corporation, but it is masked by summer job euphoria and natural beauty. Maybe that is what makes it so dynamic. When we walked into the lodge, you could see the young fresh new staff, working their jobs. The handsome strapping bellhops, the indifferent college kid pushing a silent floor cleaning machine, the crazed alcoholic restaurant manager racing through the lobby, the tired kids in the gift shop, and the general sense of boredom of everyone there. It is so beautiful, and what a majestic lodge, but lets be honest, this isn’t exactly the train travel heyday. No organized events, (dance lessons in the annex!)(shuffleboard at 2!)(ice cream social in the basement!), just nature and nostalgia. They even had the weather forecast set to 100 years ago to the day. The jammers are cool, and I thought we should take a jammer ride over the Going to the Sun road, but my cheapness

Sleeping in the lodge, or have we just been shot?

overtook me when I saw the price tag: $225 for the four of us. With no gig in sight, I decided to skip it. We fell asleep on the couches, and kept sending the kids out to do various tasks. Take a picture by the tee-pee, take a picture by the mountain goat, etc, and it was kind of fun to send the kids tearing through the hotel, as I know from personal experience, that there is no one in charge of preventing things like that. Maybe an over ambitious housekeeping manager, but probably not. Hanging out there did not make me long for summer loving. I am glad to be done with that part of my life, although to the summer loving experiences credit, I know lots of people that ended up married after that summer. It certainly does serve its purpose as a segue to adulthood.

The lodge limo for train riders

We spent the rest of the afternoon walking around town, asking for gigs. No one bit. I mean, not even, “can we play outside your restaurant for tips for people who are on a wait?” I mean, nothing.
Luckily, Connor and Sam, who are now 18 and 16, are pretty good with the music, as is their dad Mike, and they were on to this lodge in Essex (about 20 miles away) that was having a music festival. We called up the guy, and he put us on for July 4th from 2-4.

Montana earth vehicles are fun!

When we returned we went on a hike with Theresa and Mike, over to Two Medicine, some great beautiful short hike with a stunning waterfall at the end. On the way we saw a bear, and the kids were totally nonplussed. That is Montana for you, and boy howdy, did it smell good out there. I forgot about the mountain air smell, you just feel your brain getting bigger when you take a deep breath. After that, we found ourselves drinking wine and talking, and Theresa spoiling on the kids, and the kids loving it so much, and just getting to know these fine, fine people. It threatened to end with a bad ’80′s movie, but we just never got around to it. At the crack of midnight, we turned in and slept soundly in our aspen grove camp spot.

Connor and us at Logan's Pass

The next day we joined Connor on his snowboarding trip. He was headed up to Logan’s Pass,

I told you it was cold!!

which is the high point on the Going to the Sun Highway, that runs through the heart of Glacier National Park. What a beautiful thing that road is, and every time I see it, I am so thankful that I didn’t have to build it. I thought we could take the kids out on the Highline Trail a bit, and see some goats, but when we got there everything was covered in snow! They had just opened the road 10 days earlier, and it looked like the visitor center on the top was freshly dug out as well. We took some pictures in the snow, we walked around a bit, then we just came to terms with the fact that we were all really really cold, and we could just as easily wait in the car and eat snacks while we waited for Connor to finish up. When he came back, we headed down the mountain to the Park Cafe. I was really looking forward to testing out their pies, as I hadn’t had a Park Cafe pie slice since I started making pies myself, and I just wanted to compare. I thought we might eat dinner, but somehow the prices had tripled since 1995. My paycheck, however, has not so I heeded the sage advice, “life is uncertain, eat dessert first” and ordered pie and coffee. (still as much as a burger should be!)  When we were leaving, this guy shows up in a red pickup truck, with “traveling piano man” on the side, and he had a keyboard and a speaker. He was a rambling long story that didn’t make much sense, but Connor jumped up and played us a ditty on the piano, and fun was had by all.

Can you find the kids?

That night I showed the kids the movie, “Blazing Saddles” hoping they were old enough to appreciate this gemstone of our culture, but they thought it was boring except for the part where the guys all farted around the campfire. That was good. I forgot about all the racism jokes, and you know, they just don’t get that yet. And that is a good thing. We played some music with the boys, and had a nice old time, till we got kind of tired and pooped out. Theresa had to work that night, so she was off duty for spoiling and wouldn’t be back till the morning.

The next day was our big gig at the Snowslip Inn, so we saddled up and rode down to the gig. Ok, we got in the Nissan, but when you talk about Montana, I think you should always saddle up. It just so happened, that in this same land were our friends, Ron and Ragna and Katla, and they came out with their friends, Jay and Katrina, and watched us play.

We really brought it home at the Shields Music Festival!!

And Connor and Sam and Theresa came out, and the traveling piano man stopped by, so it was a nice turnout.  Local turn out?  Zero. They aren’t stupid, they were all inside peering through the windows and playing the gambling machines. It was super cold, and it threatened to rain the whole time we played, and they had to come out and build a fire just to keep us all warm, and it is the kind of weather that all you can think about is eating french fries. I was beginning to remember why I was always overweight when I lived in the mountains. No fruit and vegetables, lots of meat and potatoes. The gig was a lot of fun, and some of the old codgers eventually came out and gave us a thumbs up, and when we were done, one of the old dudes bought the kids a soda and me a beer because he had been having such a stellar day on the gambling machine.  We had a great time, our friends are so kind and enthusiastic, and the kids all had fun playing, and no one got eaten by a bear.

View of the locals in Montana

That night we watched “Zoolander” together, and the kids thought it was pretty darn funny. Enough to make a mom proud! Theresa spoiled on us some more, and we all headed out at dark to watch the fireworks. Being on the reservation for the 4th of July is something everyone should experience. Fireworks, and I mean Fireworks, were going OFF till all hours of the night, and you know, if you added it all up together, it could have rivaled what Disney spends for their 30 minute spectacular. And we had no crowds! Just us, on a hammock, with 400 blankets on watching the show. It was amazing. We even saw a shooting star, which still manages to take your breath away amidst all the fireworks. It was awesome. Zephyr fell asleep, but perked back up for hot chocolate. Hot cocoa with tons of marshmallows. Yum.

The next morning it all had to come to an end, as Amtrak was expecting us, although Minot was not. (see Minot) Theresa went out and bought us a whole bag of pastries and food for the train, packed us sandwiches, sent juice. What a woman, we had such a good time hanging out with this family. I was sad to leave, yet excited at the prospect of our pending adventures.

Eureka said, “The clouds are so low in Montana.”

Hayley, always a winner!

We show up to a less than perfect half-way restored station, complete with drop ceilings with panels missing, in a dirty part of the city. Hayley is there, smoking a cigarette, and we all pile in her ‘new’ 1975 Dodge Dart Swinger, recently spray painted in primer black. You just realize that when you dub a place as intolerably politically correct, it really all does depend on who you hang out with. Seattle has plenty of people who would love to preach to you about the latest trend in dietary restrictions and why, but it also has a huge contingency of fun seekers who are just committed to having a more relaxed lifestyle outside of the churn. The magical trick is to be able to afford a more easy going lifestyle in a city that costs so darn much to be in. And that is the conundrum of the urban nonconformist.

Why Seattle wins.

Hayley had bought a whole ton of salmon for our arrival, so when we get to the house we have a coffee break, then tuck into some delicious local fare. After dinner, Hayley had to head to work, the unfortunate downside of her nursing degree. We headed downstairs to bed. The cumulative effect of switching towns every few days was starting to show, and we were dog tired.

Jill's garage sale.

Without going into the moment to moment action of our time in the emerald city, I will try to give you an overview. I booked the Seattle stop for 6 days, hoping to recover a little while we were there. I also knew we would be able to book it, since a lot of our connections from living there were alive and well. Instead of the kids going to bed nice and early (since we would be ‘stable’ for a week) bedtime ended up getting progressively later, till midnight turned into the average bedtime. Ten A.M. became the normal waking time, and that suited the house well, as we were staying in Hayley’s big house with 3 other roommates.  It just isn’t cool when your kids are tearing through the house at 7 A.M.

BBQ at Carlo's.

My 37th birthday cake!

We had a BBQ over at Carlo’s house, and he and Jill kept the kids while we played a gig with “The Bad Things” down in Georgetown. We had my birthday BBQ over at Amy Jo and Rob’s big new house in Magnolia, Hayley made a cake, and Annastasia and Dayton showed up, I turned 37. Luca woke up and wanted to join the party, but no one would let him come out of his crib, so I had to go back the next day. (making Stay Up Late such a true song, we all wanted the baby to stay up late) Hayley took me to a sock shop where the socks that I did like were $16. We went out in the Dodge Dart that had mysteriously lost all its break fluid in the night, and when I put the brake to the ground it still rolled forward….so Zac stopped and put some fluid in (it was dry)and then he and Hayley fixed the breaks the next day. I went over and got to see baby Luca in action.

We were so concerned.

strange trees....

We took a ride down to the Ballard Locks and saw the salmon desperately trying to swim up the fish ladder to go die where they were spawned. We took a $25 ferry ride to Bainbridge Island and back, which is so beautiful to see the city shrink away and then reappear from the front of the boat. We sat next to a guy with his kid from Dallas. I think half the people on that ferry were tourists like ourselves. We noticed that we stayed off of public transpiration while we were in Seattle, Hayley has two cars now, and the Dodge is just too fun to drive. And I must say, I noticed that when you drive an old beater like that, people generally stay out of your way, and you have more fun.

We played a fundraiser at the Pink Door on my birthday, 45 minutes worth. And I tell ya, Jackie sure knows how to throw a party. If I was rich, and living in Seattle, I wouldn’t miss a single event at the Pink Door. Food, and I mean delicious food, everywhere, beautiful people going around with drinks for you, stilt walkers, maiden dancers, trapeze people, every time I turned around I’d bump into another accordion player, and the view from that patio is world class fantastic. Lovely. And it made me feel popular to play there, which is an important feeling to get on your 37th birthday.

John Cornicello came, and took a picture of my foot.

Our other two gigs at the Pink Door went well, we played Tuesday and Wednesday night for three hours each. Tuesday night we had a mixed crowd of friends show up, including none other than the Dornbushes from L.A.! What the HECK to you know! That was a particular exhilarating show, complete with some bad kid behavior, and some good kid behavior. Luckily, Ron and Ragna showed up with their youngen, and she was obviously used to staying out late, which made us look like more reasonable parents. Wednesday was also a good show, and the kids finally got their fill of pink lemonade.

Monday night we played at the cool Cafe Racer, which was nice, mainly because of the people that showed up. John Cornicello took some pictures that were beautiful, and it was hard for me to connect them with the actual night of the show, as nothing there felt quite that beautiful in the moment.  Another jerk bartender, but the guy who booked us, Drew, was so stinking nice it was hard to complain. They gave us drink tickets, and we played a bit for our friends who showed up, and we got to see the very preggers Jeppa, who I predict will have her baby before we get back to Hot Springs. The kids had a royal breakdown during the show, which was kind of not funny. There was a Mrs. Pacman game, the table top kind, and they were sharing it nicely, and occasionally nice people would give them quarters, and they could play, and then at some point, it all got to be too much, and

Eureka, in 1937.

they started fighting to the point where no one was listening to us anymore, and so Zac got Eureka and put her on a chair behind us while she cooled off, and we started our next song, which happened to be “Stay Up Late”  and instead of Eureka calming down, she just kept crying, which was so unfortunately funny and ironic and terrible, and in that environment where people were not used to kids running around, there was nothing to do but observe and suppress laughter.  And I had just told preggers Jeppa that kids don’t really have to change your performance schedule, and all that kind of hogwash. Poor kids, they were trashed, so we kept the gig short since it was a freebee anyway, and got those kids home.

Mirror postures. Hmmmm-

After the Pink Door gigs, it was so fun to be out on the town with the car, and even though the kids were tired and should have been put to bed hours ago, I just couldn’t help but drive around a little. One night we drove over Queen Anne hill, and to the lookout of the pretty city with all its lights. The next night, late night, we head to Capital Hill to go to Dick’s (old school burger drive-in joint) and the line was too long, so we flagged it and headed to lower Queen Anne and ate at the Dick’s there. It sure is fun to be out at midnight with your kids eating cheeseburgers. We had a blast, and Zac even managed to irritate some overly flatulent Seattlelite, so we had a great passive-aggressive confrontation about Zac blowing up a paper bag and popping it. She was really bothered because her ears were ringing, and she would appreciate it if we would never do that again, and somehow it went from that to her telling our kids that their dad was an asshole. That is classic Seattle behavior. Zac assured her our kid’s ears were fine, as we had just come from a loud rock show. It did not go well for that lady, and i hope that wherever she is, that her ears have stopped ringing, and she stops telling kids bad things about their parents. Not so nice. But it did kind of make our trip, because no trip to the northwest is complete without a scolding from an overly important city slicker.

And finally, from a blur of salmon and coffee and chilly weather, our trip came to an end, and our 6 days just flew by. Hayley and Tree took us down to the Amtrak Station at 4:40 on Thursday, after going to Fisherman’s Terminal and eating one last feed of fish and chips. I could get fat on that. We admired all the big strange working and pleasure boats

Ted's bike boat.

The train leaving out of Seattle heading to Chicago is called The Empire Builder. Here is a tip. The Empire Builder originates in Portland AND Seattle and meets in Spokane to connect in the middle of the night. The Seattle to Spokane leg doesn’t have a viewing/snack car. You don’t get that till the Portland train joins up, so if you are taking the Empire Builder, you have the advantage if you start in Portland. Here is another tip. Don’t ever sit across from the stairwell. I didn’t think of it, and the train was so full that I felt lucky to get seats together, but when all the lights went down, our seat was all lit up, and I COULD NOT get Eureka to settle out.  And every person that clomps up the stairs wants to say hi to you, and you can’t help but see who is coming up. She was SO hyper, and the lights just made it worse. Now I know what you are thinking, and I know it COULD NOT be related to our completely erratic sleep schedule.  No way, it was all her fault. Those are your free Amtrak travel tips.  We went overnight and woke up in Montana, with a sore neck, in those beautiful mountains. Also on this run, we went through several long tunnels. So long the train got stinky from the recirculating air/diesel fumes.

Hayley and Wanda, leaving us at the station.

View of the Puget Sound from the Amtrak.

Train Station in Portland, Oregon

Whatever the blockage was cleared itself, and the train lurched forward into the Portland station. In big letters on the clock tower protruding from station it said, “GO BY TRAIN”. Good idea! Flora was there to greet us, and we managed to get all our stuff in yet another midsize vehicle.
We went back to her house in southeast Portland, and got the full tour.  The vegetable garden in the front yard (just a year ago it was grass with chain link fence) the unfinished sauna house in the backyard, the chicken coop, the new bathroom, the old bathroom, the guest quarters, the roommates, the wall painted black chalkboard, the magnetic poetry on the fridge, and finally, the coffee pot. Which picked us all up a little bit, then Flora confesses she had bought a grill that day. Cool!  Grilled salmon? awesome. Then she confesses that she bought it used. Cool!  Way to be economical! Then she confesses it was $20 on Craigs List, and that it might need a little cleaning. Then she confesses it is totally nasty.

Zac, hungry for more

Well, my main man Zac doesn’t skip a beat, takes his coffee on outside and starts scrubbing. He had that grill shiny new in about an hour. People were coming in and out, and I could no longer keep track of who I met, and who I hadn’t, so I stopped introducing myself for fear of being redundant.  We ate a northwest meal of salmon and salad and corn and hoppy beer. YUM. The fire pit cranked up, and the hula hooping started, the kids were euphoric and hanging out like experienced college students, having meaningful conversations with total strangers. Go kids! Way to mix it up.

I put the kids to bed around 10, and when I went back up at midnight or so, they were still up playing UNO. They giggled extra hard when I busted them, especially because they know that there isn’t too much I can do about it. Their first total rebellion against bedtime. They are really growing up! (this has also become Zephyr’s favorite story of the train tour adventures)

Eureka, in the artist way

The next morning I woke up, and could only think about one thing. Today is my day in Portland, and this is a great place to get yourself back in line. Flora and I headed out for a 2 hour yoga class which felt great, and then I went over to her chiropractor. I needed my neck adjusted, and this guy cracked me right back in line. He was great. I showed up and he was in his front yard smoking a cigarette, with his laptop on his lap (duh). He doesn’t formally have a practice, just kind of takes what comes to his front door.  Word of mouth only. At one point when he asked my how old I was, I heard, “do you have a lawyer?”. That was kind of an awkward moment. Saying lawyer to an uninsured chiropractor….he didn’t kick me out right then, probably against his better judgement. Zac had taken the kids on a long walk which included a trip to a bakery, and a park with water features. That is all anyone would tell me.

gifts from Flora from Bali

That night was last Thursday, which is the south east Portlands answer to first Thursday, which is for the proper people. Apparently, this started out as an organic gathering of the people, not organized by any man, but rather a beautiful expression of humanities goodness and need to be together and speak out against the upper classes. But by the time we arrived (years late as usual) there were security guards, and traffic/parking issues, and people so dense you weren’t always in control of what direction you went.

Loud Busking

Naturally, Flora knew 79% of all the people there, so it was slow moving. But the coolness, the streetcar turned restaurant, the DJ blasting out of the VW bus, the cool wares for sale, the 14 piece band that set up, the March Fourth marching band cruising through with stilts and amps on wheels, the costuming, the bicycles, the good feelings….ah, they did abound. We went to eat at a Thai restaurant, and then I got the kids egregious red white and blue popsicles (in keeping with the train tour code), and Eureka talked me into a $20 tiny hat with a pretty rhinestone flower on the front, and then we escaped the crowds and left the kids with Flora and Lance so we could go attend our cool, no kids, gig in the hip bar downtown.

How could I say no?

Ella Street Social Club. That is the gig, looked like a good gig, I booked it cold, online. As in, I didn’t know anyone, or have any advice about this, it just looked like a venue full of bands that might be good for us. We find it pretty easy, it is right by Beaver Stadium, downtown. Such a pretty drive, racing over the 405 bridge, with the moon coming up over the mountains….We arrive to an empty bar, which was such a stark contrast to the packed streets of last Thursday, and load in our gear. We meet the other

Ella Street cool. Ella Street empty.

bands, and are instructed to wait to play in order to give a chance for the crowds to arrive. They didn’t arrive, and we had drink tickets, we each got two drink tickets for our troubles. But as usual, the bartender was an asshole, and I wasn’t thirsty anyway. What is it with cool people?  Who decided it was cool to be rude and arrogant? How is that ever better?!? Especially when your job depends on tips. Hmmmmm, disconnect. Long and short, we played to the other two bands (which was about 10 people) and then we listened to them play, because our only hopes of making money was to endure the event so we could split the door. There was some old geezer there who liked our show, and tipped us $5, which was nice. That coupled with the $15 we got from the door made that a head splitting kind of night. Bars. Why bother? By the time we got home it was 1 in the AM, we crashed out.

Royal Zephyr

The next morning, with my new back alignment and my yogi enlightenment, I felt ready to leave Portland. I always can feel the effect that the general business of kids has on an environment full of relaxed self produced single people. It just plum wears you out, kids are busy and they eat all the time, and they slowly move your house items around. I think everyone enjoyed the kids being there, and if they didn’t, well, they were sure nice about it.  We headed out of the house to the art store, where Eureka and I lost all self control and bough numerous markers and stamps and a journal, ah gee. I am no match for an art supply store, especially because in Hot Springs, it is pretty much what you can find on the school supply section of Walmart. Ugh. So $35 later I officially declared Portland a financial loss. There was no way it would even out at this point. We should have skipped the bar and busked the street fair!  Next time….Sometimes my attempts at organization work against me. Flora took me to Safeway, and I got a bunch of food for the train ride. She took us back to the station, where we were right on time to leave for Seattle.

We sat outside of the Portland train station and ate an entire watermelon.

Off to Seattle!!!

You woulda thought we were in Georgia.