Highlight 1. Getting through TSA.

Here was one of three suitcases that looked very similar. Two involving a gross amount of amps, watts, volts and hard wires, another full of lightstands, hardware, tools (and a curling iron.) And then there was my personal bag… batteries, dresses, shoes, and more shoes. My backpack, which had a Wacom airbrush tablet, a mini-hard drive, a laptop, The Rum Diary, and some cords, wires, and Southwest drink tickets.

Of course I checked all 337 lbs of luggage at Skycap (a pricey necessity), but what would happen in the TSA check? Two backpacks and a purse. I (my person + baggage) must have weighed 200 pounds that day, all loaded on top of some old cowboy boots.

They took everything out of my backpacks, while the moaning, groaning security line  self-loathed for a minute or two. Shaking the Wacom like it was supposed to open, I found myself again considering their intelligence.

My hard drive. “Whoa, is this a kindle?!” No, moron. I was getting thirsty and impatient. Slightly nervous. My veins contracted and said, “it’s time for a beer.”

The arsenal, all set for take off.

Highlight #2: Austin Airport

Back on the dirt. Waiting at the baggage claim, my brother James approaches from behind, looking Classy with two Tecates stuffed into his pockets. He’d cut his hair a bit, though it still reached his shoulder blades, establishing himself as something of a likeable music maker. We grabbed the bags, and dragged them across the airport until we reached, his van. Not pictured here.

My Brother/Assistant/Chauffeur

Highlight #3 – The Ride In.

Once we reached the van, we loaded up, while loading up:

Highlight #4: My Business trip went on vacation.

The zombies were out early on night one – there was little I could do to fein zombility, so I joined in. Into the night James and I went, and found ourselves at the Scoot in, and evidently 2 hotels and a house party later, we were scooting our way back to the homestead. Our buddy Gian Ortiz from the loudest Austin band there is (Amplified Heat) found us attempting a few games of ski-ball in the middle of the room. It was a miraculous game… in fact, I picked up some taxodermy in-between the two lanes, and much to our surprise, the stuffed thing was sitting on three $1 dollar bills. The games continued.

That night I accidentally punched a girl in the face with a full glass of Cazadores. Since neither of us expected it to happen – a mere accident – we were able to laugh it off and cut our losses. Her hairdo, my refined thirst-quencher.

Gian insisted we remove ourselves and follow him to a friend’s houseparty. I caught some laughing bug, and the rest, all history.

But instead I am going to show you a picture of my Lawyer, Michael Goch, Esq., circa Long Beach Blues Festival ’08. He was there in observance in case I got hurt on any scaffolding or trip-wires.

That’s all for now, hoping something more related next time.

Anyone know where I can find a headdress? I’ve got a shoot coming up.

Lovin Spoonfuls xo