July 25, 2005


I'm being rude. I'm writing while Al reads, on this, our final stop of BEST TOUR EVER. But I have to tell you the good news, a full like, uh, eight months out. In March 2006, we are going to rise again, phoenix-like, and take up the Canadians and west coasters on their offers to come read there. Because we wanna push our luck and, as Karen O once told Al, when he asked her what exactly it was she thought she was doing - we just wanna give people what they want in lethal doses.

At dinner, we both sat nervous, Al ticcing out, me curled, knees to chest, stuffing our maws absently. We look at one another, bonded in the freak out.
"I dunno about driving home, man, Chicago." he says.
"Do you think we could just keep going?" I say.

No matter who is at home waiting for us, no matter how tempting one's own bed is - the pleasure of going to sleep and not being rung with panic about is my arm itching because it is filthy and sunburnt or DO I HAVE SCABIES ?! - no matter what obligations we have willingly committed to in the coming week, or the week after: there is This. Multi-laned freeway, iPod full of Seger and bluegrass and Mr. De, sweet kids werlcoming us into their co-ops and communes, their barns and libraries - with iced teas and stories conjuring future hope and a life beyond fantasy - not waiting for it to come, not waiting to be handed the promise, but really, all-the-way Doing It Themselves -- and we stay late and trade zines for zines, we trade zines for freshly silk screened posters, we swat at the bugs halo-ing our humidity-curled hair and lick the juice from ourforearms as it runs from the dumpstered watermelon - which has been brought to us like a Frakenscense offering.

And so home we go, drunk on love for the punk Nu'merica than has been fanned out for us. Why stop? Why say no? Why throw down the anchor as we pass the Chi-Boogie? Why not swing from branch to branch, into the west-infinite?

Posted by Jessica at July 25, 2005 08:07 PM | TrackBack