On The Road Day Two

At 6 am, I woke out of a deep sleep and a dream of robbery, blood and large stacks of cash. Buttermilk was featured prominently in the dream. Now I'm dreaming SOF? Oh no. The air was cool in the mountains. It was another perfect summer day in Aspen.

Around 8:30, Paul called the room and suggested breakfast. We met downstairs at the hotel and ordered some Aspen fake Mexican tacos. Paul listened politely as I gave him my uneducated take on last night's show. Soon the coffee kicked in, the volume increased and the F-bombs were dropping. Suddenly, this Paul Simon wannabe from the next table was up in our grill about language and behavior. I thought he was coming over for an autograph. Silly me. Being early in the day with no alcohol involved, we took it in stride, did our best to comply while making threats and muttered Fuck New York under our breaths.

Later our host from last night arrived to take me on a tour of Aspen medical marijuana stores. Sweet child of Miley Cyrus! My mind was totally blown by the intersection of weed and modern commerce: brand name designer weed, pre-rolled blunts in tubes, eatable products of all descriptions, hash, even massage oil loaded with THC. Are you kidding me? The next place even had a "pro shop" with caps and logo shirts for sale. Oh how the world has changed since Floyd's Hotel.

My tour continued with a look at the winners of the Aspen big house contest. Interesting but I was getting jumpy as our departure time was getting near. With minutes to spare, I got back to the hotel, gathered up most of my stuff and jumped on 'Milk. Being last on board, my seat was 4B, but it was a good view from the back of the bus. David was in 4A and he helped a SOF tour rookie feel at home.

'Milk huffed and puffed as we climbed out of Aspen and up Independence Pass. It was hard to tell if we were going any faster than the bikers at times, but in the end we made the summit. There was a long fall to the bottom on the other side where we stopped for the heart-healthy food the band survives on. Oh my, Betty Crocker would not approve. The rest of the trip went quickly with limited visibility even in the flat lands. I got to see the literary creativity of the band as the group story unfolded. David took the wheel and proved to be a better driver than DJ. "Brandy", my ass. Paul came to the back to sit with me and Monty was snoozing in his little bunk dreaming of JENNIFERS.

We made it to Denver and stopped at Tony Brown's Aunt's house. Nice people and very hospitable. The band had dinner and got ready for the show.

An old friend from Hill School picked me up and I stuck my head back into the real world for a bit. We went back to his house and met another inmate from the Pottstown School for Wayward Boys. A great dinner followed and we got to Herman's Hideaway just as another band was clearing the room with its puzzling act.

Tonight the set was only 60 minutes, but still a good one. Small crowd, but there were a few enthusiastic drunks in the house who keep up entertained. Again, Water was cool and the set varied a lot from the night before. She Was Good To Me worked well. The Country from the first album rocked hard and stood out.

After some conversation on the street and the load out, Paul, David and I went back to the stash house for a pool tournament and a couple of beers. The SOF team exhibited good hand eye coordination and misspent youth. They won and I crashed hard.