Our San Francisco show almost got rained out.
Seems sunny California has been getting tons of rain lately. The parking lot of the Yellow Panic Room, where we played last night, turned into a freaking lake. The local taggers apparently are using boats to keep the walls spray painted. That is me and my be-a-utiful wife Evelyn posing with the local graffiti after rowing the van out of 3 feet of water and saving the equipment.
The show was fun. A busload of old hippies came in from Alameda. They kept throwing joints on stage and requesting Grateful Dead songs. I told the audience we would do our version of Casey Jones. Then while the band jammed on some funky kung fu disco theme, I read choice sections from the California Department of Motor Vehicles Commercial License Test: “Which of the following is the correct term for a long commercial vehicle’s tendency to swing wide on turns? A. Sidetracking, B. Offtracking or C. Fishtailing?” I’m pretty sure they noticed that I had taken some liberties with Mr. Garcia’s music and lyrics. Thanks to Byron and Tami for protecting us from the restless natives and for feeding us after the gig. Monkey Boy had too many margaritas, said he wanted to join a mariachi band and began singing Mexican folk songs. I didn’t know Monkey Boy knew any Mexican folk songs.
Next stop Los Angeles.
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