I flew back into Richmond, VA last Monday. My return had a glaring contrast to it, sitting in a metal tube, dozing in and out of consciousness, listening to music. It was the first time I'd ever appreciated the comfort of economy airlines, simply compared to weeks of cold anxious rides, of course, the plane ride was far from as enjoyable or therapeutic, but it did have its perks. The last week or so in San Francisco with Bean was highly eventful and persistent. That boy and I didn't stop for a breath. Spent a day wandering Spooky Stairways with Denise, gave Bean the worst haircut I've ever dealt out at Sunset on Ocean Beach while he read Finnegan's Wake aloud. There was a wind advisory out that afternoon and it made giving Bean a trim that much more difficult and fun. But the haircut couldnt have been that bad because he had a interview in the morning and he got the job. We entered a talent show one evening down the block from his house, got ousted from the lineup due to time constraints, but decided to barge onto stage after a guy finished a poem. Bean had deja vu twice within an hour and we both thought that was a good reason to perform. The evening had been filled with guys sporting expensive haircuts and cardigans singing soft songs about being lame and the Weatherford brothers and I got up on stage and stomped out a song about the Devil, Bean on the banjo all singing at the top of our lungs. The crowd got to their feet and began to dance. Even though it was a talent show and not a contest, We Won. We spent a day treating San Francisco like Mary Tyler Moore and another like Lewis and Clark. Motown Monday weekend edition was a hell of a surprise around nine the last Friday I was there. 4 more hours of solid dancing to the tally. Went out to Baker Beach to the nudist part and there was only one other guy out there, older fella doing stretches, I approached him and asked him to lead us in a routine, and though he was a bit hesitant at first, he agreed. He explained to us that he was about to begin a 45 minute dance ritual that he had learned in Bhutan while living there for an extended period of time. He showed us the preliminary stretches involving the elements and we all loosened up in a circle. The Pacific was chilly but refreshing. We skipped halfway across the Golden Gate, watched the sunset, then went and had a feast at a hibachi steakhouse in JapanTown. Each night had its peculiarities, two nights in a row involved a seperate stumbling drunk birthday boy named Eric, both of them lived a few blocks from Bean. Sunday we found a place called Gussies on Filmore St. that had bout the best Southern food I've ever had, laughed for a few hours straight at a matinee of the Muppets, then Bean and I set our black little hearts on writing a punk rock album. We christened ourselves The You Go Girls, and recorded 7 songs. Got up the next morning and caught a plane. I had planned on being out in CA until mid-January, but was beginning to get the itch for a place of my own, and to slow down the speed of life for a while, so I booked a plane ticket back to RVA, met a Greek guy on the shoulder of an Interstate, loaded Josie up on his tractor trailer and walked the miles back to town. Richmond's been good. Serge showed up Saturday with the bike, but she wouldnt run well, so I left her North of Richmond in a Walgreen's parking lot, and on the return trip to get her Sunday morning realized I'd lost the key the night before. After a long day in transit, I finally got her to Theresa's house and felt as if I'd completed something. Tomorrow I gotta take off the ignition and get a couple new keys made (im learning) then get her cranked up and tuned. The battery needs a charge, gonna give her a oil change, wash all the 18 wheeler dirt off, and see if I can get some of the gunk out. Hopefully I'll be ready to ride down to Myrtle by Thursday, it's supposed to be in the 60s, set up shop there until next summer when I plan to take the Northern Route across the US, hopefully not alone, cold, or crying. until then.
Love you, John.
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