On the road again, visiting friends and family in the land of the mid-day sun. High-fived Misha in C-town and played a quick show before driving to San Francisco, where brunch is served until 5pm and the bearded guy buying marijuana in the back of the store is probably doing so legally.

Then a whole lot of things happened, and then nothing happened, and now I’m less than two days away from the closest thing I have to an actual home right now – the green and bountiful Pacific Northwest, onetime home of the dotcom, grunge, and anti-WTO revolutions, as well as Bob Packwood, Tonya Harding, spotted owls and myself.

After which I’m getting on a plane and doing everything over again. I wonder if my dog even recognizes me anymore.