Woke up in a Motel 6 in Blythe, CA. By the grace of desert hospitality (that should be a bluegrass band), I will make my gig tonight in Phoenix at Frank Murray’s Turf Irish Pub.
Yesterday’s Pit Bull fundraiser (at the Franciscan Renewal Center — a real-life monastery) went smoothly, although I was sleepwalking through much of the day. (I shared it with an original band called Arbor Circle, the kind of act that would fare nicely sharing a bill with The Renegade Saints. The singer reminded me of Jerry Joseph, but with a happier vibe.)
Afterwards, I was fixin’ to catch a Greyhound back to Blythe. But a couple of Mayday volunteers had a different idea; they would drive me. (This means 5 hours out of their weekend, after working their assess off for free all day.)
Ducati Motorbike-mechanic-John & Baja-cycling Curt escorted me back to AZ-CAL border, bought me dinner Denny’s while I waited for Blythe Ace mechanics to finish Saturday races at the local speedway and bring my car to Motel room at 10:30 pm. On the way, John & Curt schooled me on motor sports, both of them experts — John working for GO AZ motorcylces. (Did you know that you get sent to Italy to learn how to work on Ducati’s? And by the way, the owner of GO AZ is also the owner of GoDaddy.com.)
That’s what I love about this life. Every where I go, I meet all different kinds of folks and learn about all different kinds of stuff. John & Curt tell me that I should write a book. But all I ever learn is just how ignorant I am about what goes on around this huge country.