Chicago

The World of The Normals

Its 1:55 pm on Friday afternoon. This time, last Friday, Apes were driving home on the Pennsylvania Turnpike. One week later, I've transitioned completely into the world of the normals. Somewhat.

Early Monday morning, I woke up and drove to a fancy private school where I became the Creating with Computers Teacher for 1st through 4th graders. Caring for, teaching, and managing 15 unruly summer campers was not what my body/brain wanted to do less than 48 hours after we arrived home. But, its entertaining.

I have been desperately trying to finish the tour logs. There are about 4 more entries to write. I am also trying to insert several photos into each log. This has proven difficult as the program I'm using continues to give me error messages. Keep checking for updates.

Now, I must go. There are a few more children who need my guidance to create 'finger pigs and squirrels'.

Last note, this morning, Harrison, who is entering first grade, said to me "Amanda, if you don't play with Daffy Duck, WHO DO YOU PLAY WITH?"

Ape summer plans--

make movie
finish video
jam

Fun Tour Facts

Days on the Road: 23
Shows Played: 22
Hotel Stays: 3
Miles Driven: 7,804
Total Gas Cost: $1,234
Starting Weight: 140 lb
Ending Weight: 129 lb
Favorite Snack: (tie) Black Pepper Jack Doritos & Mini Chips Ahoy (no eggs!)
Movies Watched: Fast Times at Ridgemont High, Cursed, Revenge of the Sith and Wonderland
Number of MMA Fights Watched: 12 (19 if you count multiple viewings)
Favorite Public Bathroom: Panera
Digitized Issues of Marvel's "What If" Read in the Van: 163
Number of Times I Was Asked "Are Those Vistalites?": 8
Sticks Broken: 5
Cymbals Broken: 2
Drumheads Broken: 2
Best Burrito: Eleven:11, Billings Montana

Denver July 3, 2005

We pull up at the Larimer Lounge. Its quiet on the street. I want to go for a quick walk but the pain in my knees shoots an arrow into my freedomquest. There's no time anyway. We were supposed to play our first set at 5:00 pm and its already 5:30 pm. I am bummed because we have missed the set of good friends, Orwellian Math Project. We load in and I go back to the van to grab my water bottle. When I re-emerge, a young red-haired lad with a thick piece of chain link around his neck is standing next to me. He is also sporting a black-hooded sweatshirt, torn black jeans, and several inky home-made appearing tatoos.

"How its going out there?" he inquires.

"It's alright," I respond.

"You want to do a few bumps?" he generously offers.

"What's your name?" I ask.

"P."

"Well P., I thank you for your generosity. I'll think about it." I imagine that our set would suffer if I snorted powdered dry wall or talcum or borax before our set.

We chat with very good and very supportive Denver friends-- Luke Sparkles, Sara T., Alisa, Jeremy, Mark, Justin. We've known some of these guys forever now. The sound man talks with us about what we need for sound (I can't remember his name but he was awesome!!! I will find out!) We play and have a blast. I run upstairs and stretch and then we enjoy some of the Larimer Lounge veggie burgers being grilled out on the patio.

Erick and I talk extensively with Jeremy from Orwellian Math Project and have a splendid time.

The evening crowd starts coming in around 9:00 pm and DJ action begins. The first two bands are pretty entertaining and the younger well-dressed crowd enjoys them quite a bit. There is a fantastic group of people present when we play and we have a great time. The sound man again has done a superior job.

More hang out time and then we are off to the house of Sara T. and Alisa. They have a beautiful house right outside the downtown area and we are graced with beds, futons, and aerobeds. They also have three dogs that are ridiculously cute. Gia stands out in my mind the most. I think she tries to get in the van with us when we were leaving. I always wanted a cat for the van but Gia is even smaller and I think she would appreciate the road more than a cat.

Thanks for the delicious breakfast!

No No Reno (7/1), and Salt Lake City (7/2)

We leave South San Francisco around 3:45 pm thinking that its about a 3 hour drive to Reno. Traffic leaving the city on a three- day holiday weekend is pretty horrendous. It takes 2 1/2 hours to drive 70 miles. I run the heat because the temperature inside the van is rising rapidly and it feels like the heat is coming from the engine. Jeff turns the heat off about 3 minutes later.

" Why did you turn off the heat?" I ask.

"The sealant should be taking care of everything," he responds. Brilliant. He doesn't have my intuition. He only has data. He only believes in laptops.

I pull over to get gas. Its freaking hot in the van. Paul gets behind the wheel. We hit the mountains.

We have been warned many times that this show in Reno will be unattended. There is a Judas Priest concert in Reno that night and everyone and their hairy-legged mother in a 300 mile radius is going to that concert. The promoter is going to feed us but no local bands are willing to play the show with us. And because its expected that the turn-out will be so low, we can't get a financial guarantee. We had tried to get Rodeo Boyz to come to Reno to play with us but the promoter absolutely didn't want to feel responsible for taking care of two 'out of town' bands.

Anyway, at the top of a mountain, the van fills with smoke.

We pull over, grab our bags and jump out. Erick douses the front end with the fire extinguisher. Smoke just keeps pouring from under the hood. We can't get the hood open. Then we swarmed by mosquitoes. I call AAA. We are only about 50 miles from Reno and I have AAA plus which should get us a tow of up to 100 miles. The AAA phone operator informs me that we can get towed to Reno and the promoter has offered to put us up for the night. Maybe we can even drop our equipment off at the club and do the show. All hope isn't lost yet! Two locals pull over to see if we need any help. They chuckle about Judas Priest. They are on their way to that concert in Reno! A cop stops and shines his bright light in the van. He is satisfied when we tell him we are just waiting for a tow truck. I'm sure we just look like 4 miserable pathetic homeless children at this point, certainly not unruly mountain lawbreakers.

The tow truck arrives. The driver tells us he can't take us to Reno. He is the only driver available in the Sierra's and because of the Judas Preist concert, he is absolutely swamped with tows. He will drop us in Donner's Pass. How perfect. There is one gas station and one hotel. The hotel isn't much different that Motel 6 and they charge us $208 for a room that night. Erick and I eat gas station burritos for dinner. We sneak into the hotel kitchen despite the sign on the door that reads, "Employee's ONLY". We know how much those burrito's taste after a nice microwave treatment. We want to go for a walk but its totally dark and there are a lot of drunk yahoo's running around the gas station. It also only appears that we can walk to the highway or into the woods. He goes up to the room and plays his bass. I sit by the pool.

I get up at 7:00 am and call my mom. I haven't talked to anyone from home for days. She tells me that a mother is only as happy as her unhappiest child.

At 8:30 am, Paul and I go to the gas station. They will call us soon. While we eat our free Holiday Inn breakfast, the gas station attendant calls. At first, they think its only a hose. After the hose is replaced, they test drive the vehicle and anti-freeze pours from 6 locations. We need a new radiator. Price? $800. They estimated completion time is 2:00. We have a 9 hour drive to Salt Lake City. We HAVE to play this show. We have a $300 gaurantee and after the horrible costs we are about to endure, we can't afford to lose another dime. I put 6 hard boiled eggs into two coffee cups. I also take 4 oranges and head back to the pool. This is no time to get scurvy.

After the noon checkout time, I wander into the woods. I find the sign that marks the precise spot where the Donner party missed the trail that would have sent them on to the West Coast but because of early snows, they missed it and got trapped in the mountains. Ultimately, they ate their dead compatriots to survive. I walk the path. Its beautiful. The flowers, the trees, the grasses, the streams. Maybe this wasn't such a bad place to get stuck.

We leave Donner Pass at 3:30 pm. We can still make it to Salt Lake City by midnight and play our set. I have called Clayton from the Rodeo Boyz and he agrees that we can make it. He will even rearrange showtimes and playing order.

The drive is all desert and we drive many miles as gas stations get farther and farther apart. A few hours after Reno, it is announced that we are about to run out of gas. The van is huffing and puffing a bit because we are so damn low on fuel. When I politely ask that maybe, as a band rule, we shouldn't let the van get below 1/4 of a tank, especially in desert and mountain regions, I hear, "I'm not taking the blame for this." I blame no one.

Jeff says, "Looks like we'll have to call AAA again. Twice in two days!"

"We aren't calling anyone, " I respond. "There is no cell phone reception in the middle of the desert."

There is, however, a swarm of locust. They are covering the roads.

Somehow we make it to a gas station. Sweet relief. I think nothing until we are 10 miles outside of Salt Lake City and I hear those same sweet words.

"I did it again. We are going to run out of gas. We are lower than empty." The driver swerves the vehicle back and forth some. Apparently, this is a manuever performed by race car drivers to slosh any remaining gas into the engine.

We are granted with another small miracle. We roll into a gas station and fill 'er up. We pull up in front of Burt's Tiki Lounge exactly at 11:45 pm, the precise time that Microsoft Streets and Trips told us we would arrive. After Jeff leaves the vehicle, someone throws his suitcase. Someone is not happy with Jeff. Someone swears at Jeff in his absence. I leave the vehicle and watch the Rodeo Boyz play their set. They are AWESOME!

We load in and play. The crowd is highly engaged! I love these people. Jeff asks for someone to bring him a coke. No one does. The crowd and/or the bar is chastised. I want to play one set with all good, happy feelings. I really do.

Afterward, we all go back to Clayton' house. People eat, drink, and party for many hours. I eat a bunch of food and try to go to sleep. At 6 am, I become aware that I am in someone's kitchen. Its Clayton's kitchen. He and a few people are still awake. They are watching VH1 videos from the 80;s. I want food. He tries to talk to me.

"Amanda, are you thirsty? Do you need something?" I hear Clayton talking to me. I don't think I process. I don't think I answer. I eat some green algae protein powder and go back into the basement. When the alarm goes off shortly after, I contemplate jumping ship and staying in Salt Lake. We have to be in Denver by 5:00 pm to play an afternoon Barbecue at Larimer Lounge and then we are playing our evening show. Its another 500 mile drive to Denver. I don't feel good.

The voice that runs through my head all day speaks these words, "Request permission to abort mission."

Beep. Beep. Beep.

San Francisco, 12 Galaxies (6/29)

We get up somewhat early to leave for San Francisco. Again, the accuracy of our directions is being hotly debated by Paul. Jeff guides us to a business district so we can find food. I want to cry with relief when I see there is a Trader Joe's on this block. I can buy enough salads for the day and know the precise nutritional breakdown of each one. I am certain this is going to guarantee that our show tonight will be awesome.

As soon as we hit Interstate Route 5, we almost wreck, badly. An 18 wheeler in the right lane next to us doesn't see us and almost slams into us. Paul swerves to avoid the truck and we are almost struck by a BMW in the left lane. Again, another swerve. The noises are so loud, I think we hit the BMW. Somehow, we hadn't. Paul's driving saves the day.

Its freaking hot. And R0ute 5 is disgusting. Its littered with factory farms and reeks of cow manure. Its also really hard on little vannie. When we pull off to get gas, the van spills ALL of its coolant. There is green liquid EVERYWHERE. Again, no heat gauge to give us any idea that this was going to happen but it was only a matter of time.

We drive over to a service station across the street. The attendant promises that if we let the vehicle cool, poor in some radiator sealant, we will be good to go. I call my friend, Josh. He urges me to get the van checked out thoroughly before a 4 day holiday weekend. My bandmates ignore my foolish suggestion. Josh warns that a blown headgasket could end our little tour. I just hope we make it to San Francisco. I buy a container of cottage cheese and sit in the heat while we pour fluids into the van. Flies buzz around my head. They want cottage cheese, too.

We arrive safely enough and load in. The soundman is our friend from home, Phil of Trans Am. We are so happy that he will be doing sound. We have a soundcheck and my spirits are high. We are soon reacquainted with our dear friends and labelmates, the Gris Gris. Our friend, Debbie, (http://www.glitterlimes.com/) arrives and we go in search of food. Young George comes with us. He is 16, the son of a friend of David. Young George is a talent waiting to explode. Already, he is in bands, making movies, courting record label execs. We are going to say he is our roadie, or our brother, so we can sneak him in as a favor to David.

I want Vietnamese food. We find it. I eat quick and rush back to the club. I want to see Dave KazNelson. He is already there.

Genghis Khan rock pretty hard. So do Time Flys. I catch up with the San Fran gang. Hang out with Lars and Oscar from Gris Gris, friends from home, Dave, Todd (our booking agent).
I see Paul. He looks sleepy. Erick makes him drink a red bull.

We play. Its sloppy but its sure sounds good (thanks Phil!!!!) on stage. After the show I run around sipping wine and talking with people. At some point, I am so damn hungry, I run over to a convenience store still wearing my costume and buy a bag of Baked Lays potato chips.
Gris Gris play. They kill it. Their original drummer, Joe, is back and it warms our hearts to see him.

I run up to the dressing room to change clothes. There are two people bent over on a coffee table and white powder goes flying when I walk in. They start talking a mile a minute. Little Care I.

As the night comes to a close, we must decide where to crash. Oscar wants us to come to Oakland and stay with Gris Gris. I don't think I should drive out there. We stay right around the corner with our friend, Michelle, who does the rock mag, Panache. She used to book our Humboldt County shows and now she books Japanese Bands. She is a wonderful person and stays with her boyfriend so we can have her bed. We talk with her till 4:30 am and she actually gets up early to put money in out van meter for us. Paul has gone to Oakland with Gris Gris.

In the morning, we go have lunch with our friends Debbie and Michelle and then head out of South San Francisco to the Birdman Headquarters. Paul takes BART and meets us there. Today we are heading east and it feels like that last place I want to go. I suspect that Vannie doesn't want to go east either.

Los Angeles, Spaceland (6/28)

I don't ever really fall asleep. When I get up, I think about jogging. I think about running. I don't do it though, my knees are about dead. Last night, my right knee gave out while we were playing, so I hopped on the left and now they are both swollen. I wish I had brought my food scale. I wish I had brought my body scale. I wish I had measuring cups. I picture myself swelling up to 200 pounds. Nothing I can do, so I do laundry.

After my shower, I get a message from George, the guy who does our radio promotion. He has arranged for us to do an interview at KXLU. Only stipulation is that we have to be there in about an hour. Erick, Paul, and I jump in the van, and we split. It takes us 35 minutes to go about 4 miles in the LA traffic and we bail. We call and cancel and go get coffee.

One of the kids we had met last night calls Erick. He offers us an all- ages show at the Knitting Factory for tonight, immediately after we finish our Spaceland set. We accept. Sure, we will do two shows in one night. We have scheduled a few other days like this so we may as well find out now how badly we will hurt when we do this.

Back at the house in the hills, Jeff sits outside and checks email. Paul talks on the phone. I work on tour diaries. Paul soon announces that he wants to go to Silverlake early to eat dinner before sound check and walk around the neighborhood. I seem to remember that there isn't really anything there to see and only one restaurant but I don't say anything. We stall for a bit and then drive over. There is lots of discussion about the accuracy of the directions provided by our mapping program, Streets and Trips. This program has been the saving grace of the Apes. We almost never get lost anymore. We don't have to rely on the complete and utter inadequacies of Mapquest and we don't have to call unreachable promoters to get random landmarks that don't exist. But still, these directions are sometimes debated and I'm never quite sure why.

Once we arrive in Silverlake, Erick and I start walking. The only thing around is the same Thai restaurant that we ate at last time we played here. We walk for a while and eventually find a Mexican Cafe. I order a coffee. I'm given a large cup containing 6 shots of espresso.

We walk back to the club. I'm still not ready to eat. Erick and I miss load-in. We watch the middle band, Preistess, soundcheck. They have drive from Montreal for this one show. Its an industry show and promises to be gross. I really do like Preistess though, and enjoy their music. I talk to Vince the drummer. We have the same black suitcase for our geat. These guys are talented and can play like nobody's business.

I go sit in the van. A blond guy who slightly resembles Phillip Seymour Hoffman appears at the door of the van.

"Hi..I'm...I'm the biggest Ape fan from DC. I live in L.A. now."

"That's cool. Nice to meet you, " I say.

" I have an apartment right around the corner. You guys can come hang out there if you want. I know what its like to be on the road. If you need to take a shower, or whatever, that's totally cool."

"I appreciate the offer, but I showered this morning, so I'm just going to stick around here."

Our superfan tells us he is going to film the show. He has been in touch with the fellow who is making the Apes movie with us and he will send the footage to him.

I go in and watch more Priestess. After their set, I am in the tiny equipment room, trying to change clothes. There is a record company guy in the room drooling on the drummer.

"You guys are amazing! The real deal! True talents! I haven't seen drumming like that since John Bonham! Now, we have to work on your image though. It may be cool for you to just be who you are in Canada, but to make it big in America, we have to develop your image. You need to stand out. You need finesse."

I turn around in my sunglasses and ski mask. I smile at the music company exec. I smile big.

"You need to stand out like that!" he says excitedly and points to me. Whoa. I was hoping to scare him. Oops. Wrong reaction.

We go out and play. The room is suddenly very empty. No friends from the night before. Not even many record company people left around. Interesting. My body doesn't seem to want to move even though I want it to move. And we have one more show to play. I'm pretty certain I suck. We pack fast. As we drive away, the Knitting Factory kid calls. There was a problem at the Knitting Factory. No all ages show. I am overwhelmed with Sweet Relief! We drive over there because the kid wants to give us 40$ anyway. Its very much appreciated although we don't really deserve it. Jeff is very ill and I'm very tired so we go back to our lovely temporary home in Hollywood Hills. Everyone is asleep and I have no interest in food. I talk to Erick a little bit and lay down. I will lay here, even if I don't sleep. And that's what I do. I make up crazy stories in my head and repeat catch phrases over and over.

"Little Care I."

" I am quite sick of your ass face."

Los Angeles, Cinespace, not a funny post (6/28)

We all meet Dave at an Indian Restaurant for lunch. I'm so happy to see this guy its ridiculous. I don't know many many record labels foster the type of relationship that I feel we have with Dave but from the bottom of my heart, I love this guy and what he represents.

Lunch is a buffet. I do not like buffets. I put tiny little piles of food on my plate and eat very slowly. We hear the tales of debauchery from Glastonberry festival and then hear that we probably aren't going to Europe in the fall. I want to cry. I don't know where all the stinking emotion is coming from but its pissing me off. I am letting myself down. I still enjoy the meal though and we leave for Los Angeles at a pretty late hour. Once again, Paul is at the wheel. Again, I feel that vannie is getting more and more ill but our heat gauge is broken so its only the smells that give any indication.

There are more smells. Lots of them.

For our first Los Angeles show, we are playing at Cinespace. Cinespace is a movie theater and bar owned by Paul's friend from home, Dave Dickerson. Every Tuesday night, they have a dance and DJ night and feature one 'up and coming' band to play. We are pretty psyched for this show as we have lots of buddies in L.A. however there is another band on the bill playing before us and we won't get to soundcheck.

Cinespace is right on Hollywood Blvd. The venue is beautiful but Hollywood is so gross. It takes forever to find parking. Paul and I are almost ready to pay for a lot when we find something. We go back to the club and Erick and I go find food. We eat at some Thai restaurant across the street. Its okay but again, not enough vegetables. I'm pretty certain though that its corn syrup free. Erick wants to go visit our friend Jason who is making our video but I want to go to Cinespace and relax.

The first person I see is my friend Tim Eagan. I love this guy. He is hysterical and we shoot the shit for a while. He is a main writer for the Reality Show, Nanny 911, so we have lots to talk about. As a former nanny and a person who has formally studied the science of behavior change, I have lots to comment on child rearing.

I catch up with other friends and then go sit in the dressing room. This space is so clean and beautiful and so dramatically different than some of the little dive bars we have been in the last few days. Well. The first band, zZZ, plays. We have done lots of shows with them at this point and are well aware that they play longs sets and take a long time to break down as well. Apes play. I think its good. Maybe. The sound is pretty good. People are far away though and its movie theater style seating. We get lots of good feedback but I mostly talk to my friend, Tim. We are crashing at his house. He lives with some of friends in a beautiful house in Hollywood Hills that overlook Laurel Canyon. The neighborhood is called Mt. Olympus.

We pack up and head over to their house. I start eating. Chips mostly at first. The boys are all sitting around shooting the shit with Tim and his roommates. I sit on the futon in the same room. I don't watch TV. I don't talk to anyone. I feel a binge coming on and I have not one exit strategy in place. I can't find my blankey. No one to call.

San Francisco Show-- Thee Parkside (6/27)

The drive from Arcata to San Francisco is terrifying. We have done this drive many times and for some reason, Paul is always at the wheel. The road is mountainous, curvy, and there are abundant warnings to limit speed on the dangerous curves. For some reason, Paul doesn't regard the speed limits. He also ignores the picture symbol "tip" warnings. He goes so fast around the mountain curves, he sometimes holds onto the door to brace himself. The air is pungent with the smell of burning brake pads. I want to sleep because I am so tired. The heat, the smell of the burning brakes, and the fear of missing the van going flying off mountain drop-offs keep me wide awake (not to mention the exhaust fumes from the missing tail pipe).

As we approach San Francisco, I start to get excited. We are going to be playing with Side on Sound and Replicator at Thee Parkside Cafe. Side on Sound is the band of Matthew Johnson. Matthew is a main man at Birdman Records and we talk to him daily. We consider him a true friend as well as a music colleague. Also, we've played with Replicator several times before and are looking forward to seeing our buddy, Conan.

We arrive at the venue. Its rainy and cold. No coffee shops. Nowhere to walk. I don't like the bar food menu. No salads. No vegetable based meals. All excitement-- gone. Side on Sound fellows arrive. We start drinking. Or they start drinking and I sip red wine and bar coffee. I call Dave Kaznelson (owner of Birdman and a very valued friend) to inquire as to his arrival time. I know seeing him will make me happy. He doesn't answer. I know he has only returned from Glastonberry music festival that day. I leave him a message.

Side on Sound play. They are pretty entertaining. Their vocalist is a hoot and a holler and we enjoy their songs quite a bit. Most of them are getting progressively drunker but we are just as entertained by the sober member.

I pee. Alot. Because I can.

Dave calls. He's not coming. He's too sick and tired from traveling. I'm so bummed but I understand. We will try to meet for breakfast.

Replicator plays. I change clothes in the van. Then we play to a modest group of people. I think the show goes well though and the people that are present, respond positively. We meet BlackBlondeApe. He has been emailing for quite some time. He is a true believer in music and talking to him raises my spirits considerably. He promises me that in 2007, APES will be understood by the general public. Sooner or later, you have to believe in something. That night, I believe in Alan (BlackBlondeApe).

We pack up and Alexa (Matthew's girlfriend) jumps in the van with us. She is guiding us back to Matthew's apartment where we are crashing. She picks the route with the least amount of hills because poor vannie isn't doing so well. We barely made it up some of those hills coming into town.

Matthew's apartment is beautiful and clean. Alexa makes fried egg sandwhiches for Erick and I. I eat about half a loaf of his sour dough bread (no corn syrup). Sorry Matthew!!! We watch the Flaming Lips movie. I keep having to run into the hallway to fart because its a small apartment.

I sleep on the wood floor. Bony bodies and wood floors are a very bad combination but I don't complain because there are no fleas.

Jeff sleeps in Matthew's closet. Paul sleeps in the kitchen.

I am wide awake at 7 am when I get a text message from Dave. He's awake and wants to go to breakfast. I feel like I have to try to sleep a little more. We will all meet for lunch. I eat a little more bread and put my bones back on the wood floor.

A Phlegmatic Anecdote

Since Amanda has been grossly lax in keeping this tour diary updated, I thought I'd relate a fun little tale from earlier in the tour.

About six days in, I awoke in Seattle with a bad cold and/or sinus infection (which is still lingering, albeit weakly, here on day 21). Two days later, I woke before everyone in Josh's (Rabbits) apartment in Portland nearly choking on phlegm, and with one eye sealed completely shut with yellow mucus. Stumbling into the bathroom, I first unsealed my eye, then proceeded to cough up a massive wad of dark, gunmetal gray phlegm into the sink.

Naturally it would not go down the drain, and in fact clogged the whole works. Steeling my resolve, I used some toilet paper to fish the glob out of the sink and toss it into the toilet, my gorge rising. As it sank, first to the bottom and then down an inch or two into the pipe, I realized that in my panicked revulsion, I'd grabbed not only the phlegm ball but also the removable drain thing out of Josh's sink. Deepening my grimace, I thrust my arm into the toilet up to the elbow to fish out the phlegm-slickened stopper and return it (after scraping out the mucus) to the sink. Mission accomplished.

The next day I couldn't open either eye until after I'd scrubbed the gunk out of them with angry knuckles.

And for the many who have seemingly been on the edge of their seats: We replaced our radiator and made it to the Salt Lake City show just in time to have one of our best performances (and our best merch night) of the tour.

death of a radiator

Ape Van smoked itself out last night in the high sierras. Our heat gauge is broken so suddenly the van was just full of smoke. We got towed to Truckee, CA (home of the Donner Pass and Donner Lake) and spent the night in the only available hotel for $208.00. Reno show-cancelled.

This morning we find out we need a new radiator. Cost- $753.00. Hopefully we will get out of here by 2pm. We have a 9 hour drive to Salt Lake City and we lose an hour. If there is more than one mountain, we are screwed.

At best, we arrive in Salt Lake at 11:30pm, load directly on stage, and rock hard!

Cross your fingers. Or don't.