Laughter for days. Alas, I've forgotten my camera, so I'm going to try and tell the story without too many words and far fewer pictures than I would prefer.
Tuesday Morning: Walk to Aaron and Sarah's, guitar in hand, pack on back, brush teeth, load on to the bus and we're off. The bus is a short bus, painted army green. Inside the seats have been taken out, with bench beds in their place. One higher, one lower in the back, and another along the left side of the bus, all with foamy cushions and lots of pillows. All the backpacks were piled on the floor between the closet and the lower bench over the right side wheel well, held in place by bungee cords. A throw rug on the floor, a swivel captain's chair up front by the stairs, two coolers on the left side, a tower of milk crates and a small pantry shelf for food storage behind the driver's seat complete the furnishings. They keep magnetic letters on the ceiling, Taylor throws up a hammock stretched across the middle of the bus from left side to right to nap in, there was Mud On The Tires playing from an a nice sound system and I could feel the base through my belly, since I was sitting above the woofers. We hit the highway and ten minutes in I was 10 pounds lighter, having left most of my baggage in Oakland. We hit the sun when we hit the valley, and multiple pee/gas/break stops later, we finally found our rhythm. Naps, punctuated by intermittent activity, the Texans are good at playing with each other and laughter won the day. I don't care what they say, those Texans have some big hearts and a whole lot of love for each other. It's nice to be around. "Let's go back to Texas where people love each other" Sarah said one night to Aaron. I consider myself lucky to have had a chance to be sitting in the middle of it, if only for a day. By nightfall we had hit San Diego, the bar was nice, but the music was bad. Hipster Harpist, Jazzy funk, and dreamy strings blended into one another, and the Texans in the middle of it all. Two step to a couple songs, talk about driving to Texas, (I ask you, driving to texas over a few days with a cat and listening to Sci-fi books on tape, does that not sound fantastic? I think so.) and being dropped off at the greyhound station were the end of my night.
Wednesday: Trying to find a comfortable position on the greyhound floor to try and sleep, and watching greek napoleon rule his little greyhound world, I'd have been offended if I didn't find it so damn funny with a side serving of being a little sad. 5am had me at the ticket counter and Four hours and forty five minutes later I would be in LA. The transfer point was LA, where I pulled out the guitar and sang until the hollywood bus arrived. Dan picked me up and we walked to his house, just around the corner. I got to see Miss Becca, hear some big and awesome news, and take a shower before passing out for a bit. Sat in as a test audience for Bill Maher, ate some delicious Mexican food, waited in line for a while with the boys and Cindy, came home and read and drank PBR before heading out and seeing amazing and not amazing art. We went to two really fun galleries, saw some really good art and some not so good art, drank some japanese beer, and then went to the margarita bar where we sat in the mirror room, and then met Velvis, or Bob, whatever. Velvis was a man who indeed looked like Elvis, but younger with curlier hair. He was charismatic and outgoing and entertained all of us for a while before getting into some deep conversation with Alex. Needless to say, I slept till noon today and enjoyed it.
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