It's a Pleasure to Know You: My First Chautauqua, Part II

LINK TO PART ONE

Photo credits: Me, Stephen Bent, Gillen Martin, Jon Crandell, Phina Pipia, Sohie Pipia, Scarlett Trippsmith, Sqelixw Aqlsmaknik, Alex Stein and assorted web finds (since my phone was dead). 

Sexy bug bites!

The whole gang in Hot Sprngs, MT

Wed 7/23/14 Libby, MT to Trego, MT

Packing after a shower, I thank my host, Jolene, who expresses her admiration for anyone who chooses the artist's life. Most of us who have done so think about what we have given up to do what we do . For me, as I get older, it's always humming in the background. But honestly, it chooses you as much as you choose it. Watching so many people lose their life savings and/or home equity in this recession was horrible, but knowing that a lot of them hated how it was earned in the first place, it's at least a comfort to know I have spent my life doing something I was passionate about, even if there was little financial reward. And I hope I helped some people to laugh, cry, escape their own problems and/or think about issues in life, love, etc. while I was doing it.

I head over to help the gang pack and load the truck, and get a questionable map to Trego, MT from wagon-master Annie (Waggony Annie?). We were all supposed to stay in downtown Eureka, but those plans have apparently been upended. 

93 north from Libby up to Eureka has been called the "better than sex highway” by a motorcycle enthusiast blog online, an experience I am happy to tell you I shared with Annie and Chloe! We ooh and aah around curves, I get more gas station popcorn. We yak more about Annie’s upcoming move from Arcata to Seattle, where she wants to break into costuming work, and the great peeps she is meeting here who may be able to ease her transition. (Seattle is a fabulous place, Annie, and I wish you an amazing life there!)

  

The directions are indeed hinky, but at least when we're lost it's gorgeous. :) I'm initially not thrilled to be so far in the country since we'll be driving into Eureka so many times in the next few days. So I hop into group vans instead of doing the drives myself... plus, I now love these people! It's a little challenging logistically to set up the kitchen and mobile showers here, but eventually works out alright. The trailer built into the side of Pom's home is amazing, as is the eons-old kitty, Oondra, named for a Czech guest they had many years ago. She's at least partially blind and almost never leaves the couch in the livingroom. And she gets megatons of love from everyone this week and LOVES it. Total purr monster. 

I promise I will not toss you into
a lake, my dear fiancee!

Dinner at Glacier Ranch Lodge is spectacular - they are a sponsor of the tour - and they donated this evening to us. During my first ride in the Green Bird,we ooh and aah as a huge thunderstorm kicks up and lightning flashes. It's a crazy gorgeous drive during an hours-long sunset that stretches into dinner with a massive downpour.

Bison burgers headline the buffet as we are treated to a spectacular sky show overlooking a ridge, We sing the Anvil Chorus with the orchestra singing their parts, too (instruments were left in Trego.) The storm passes, we take group pix (none of which I seem to have). Wow, Montana. Seriously.

The trailer is quieter than I'd expected even though it's near the kitchen and showers. I didn't camp on this tour because I have terrible sleep issues when I travel, which include heat issues, and it doesn't take long for them to affect my attitude as well as my work; none of that would be a positive contribution to an endeavor like this. If you learn nothing else on the road, that's a good thing to know about yourself.  I brought an air mattress and tent just in case... and my car... but so far it's all good. I'm thinking I'll give the outdoors a shot here, though.

Thu 7/24/14 Trego/Eureka

Rainy Birthday Celebration

Rehearsals again today... and then the Green Bird to a Fisher Price-sized Teaser show (limited floorspace!) at Homestead Ales, a Eureka microbrewery!. They float us an amazing pizza sample and I taste some of the beer fare, thinking of Alex's homebrewing days and our visits to local brewpubs during our many Alaskan and NW adventures. He would like the super-hoppy IPA here - so I buy him a bottle.

We head out to the community potluck at Riverside Park and it's a drippy but spirited affair, held under the Easy-Ups due to intermittent rain. I notice that the river next to the park is completely clear. This was where we were supposed to camp, originally.  It's Fiona’s birthday - she's serenaded with cakes and pies as Paul reads a proclamation and gives her the key to the city! The locals are really excited to have us here.


Separate wedding blessing "ceremonies" are held for Shannon and Stephen at Pom's ranch. The men trek off to the sauna with a beer keg, and the women head up to the second house. We surround Shannon with good wishes, blessings and a ritual feet washing - "as you prepare for your new journey." Out of the dark night, all of a sudden, Harry opens the door. All heads turn to him. He flinches and closes it. Velly suspicious indeed... And about 5 minutes later, a parade of about 12 buck naked men dances right through the livingroom, singing the Italian strains of the Anvil Chorus at the top of their lungs, then exits as quickly as they appeared.  I couldn't make that up, and no, there is no footage!

When I tell Alex about this later that night over Skype (I have no cell service, but excellent wifi), he says, "Wait, it took them this long to have a naked parade?"

Fri 7/25/14 Trego/Eureka

The amazing RR Xing, on the way to
 our Trego digs. Straight out of a movie.

We're adding in acts to the show to replace those that have (SADLY!) departed. Drea and Harmony do a completely charming and silly routine for the show committee in Pom's livingroom/conservatory/library. It's so old school funny... and is put in the show as of tonight.

I opt to stay back at the ranch to do some online editing work instead of going into town for the parade through Stein’s market. Harry is around doing work, too. We yak in the kitchen, swapping booking horror stories (I did a lot of the booking for The Bobs in my later years with them. And the social media. And the travel... LOL). Pom's upstairs tenant Madeline and I are washing dishes when we spot a cow way off in the distance. The property has an electric fence, but obviously it has a hole of some kind. Hmmm...  It's a quiet morning off from the gang - which makes me simultaneously productive and not thrilled.  :)


Driving back into town alone for the first time, I soak up the scenery, especially this one ungated railroad crossing (see picture). It's gravel and wood 10 feet on either side. You HAVE to slow and you HAVE to stop. It's textbook dangerous AND textbook gorgeous. Something out of a movie that... you do not want to be in!

I hook up with the group at the community show at the Mountain View rest home – talk about a stellar vista. Smiles all around. Then, we head to an actual Car Wash/flea market/clothes sale someone noticed on the main drag and film ourselves doing CAR WASH!  Then it's over to the theater to tech the show…

Me as Clara Tweaker (L), mit Supa-Suffragettes

Lincoln County High School has a nice, big theater. Paul asks me to review scenes with some new people taking over roles (in which they are equally and differently hilarious). I make sure all of the Faiths ("people of all Faiths") know where to stand for their monologues now that the show is changing. Harry and I accompany Robin's pre-show Trash Fashion presentation by playing a Miles Davis tune, during which I sneak in "Tequila." It occurs to me that I could have played this keyboard in the show if I'd thought of it. Next time. Drea's shower act is adorable. I miss doing Hide and Seek, but am thrilled to get to see Clara and Reby do their trapeze acts now. I feel raw-throated during my suffragette song, but it goes really well again. The Ks juggle becomes a hysterical melee after Rod fumbles his line and calls something a "Swiss army machine." I love to watch the K's, whose juggling is mesmerizing and astonishing, and they crack me up, but frankly, they are even funnier when it all goes to hell. Which is a big part of their charm.

I finally buy a Chautauqua shirt after the show, and am greeted by a magnificent sky at 10 p.m. Three weeks ago, I was at a July 4 weekend bash with an astounding group of friends who are vocalists and arrangers, on a Manhattan rooftop, drinking Moscow mules (ginger beer and vodka), oohing and aahing over the fireworks just blocks away. I left to go back to 72nd and Broadway (center of the universe), where I was dog-sitting for CeeCee, Pirate Shih-Tzu of the Upper West Side. My life sometimes give me whiplash. But it's the best kind of pain.

Sat 7/26/14 Trego/Eureka

It's odd that we're doing the workshops and parade the day AFTER a show, but that's the schedule here. At the morning meeting, it's revealed that apparently I am the Queen Volunteer of kitchen shifts. I'm kind of shocked. I thought everyone was signing up for stuff - that's what you did. Apparently I've done 12 shifts and have signed up for 4 more. GAME ON, THEN!

I ride into town with John Cloud and Toes Tiranoff, our resident tap dancer, here from NYC. John blasts Aaron Copeland on the stereo (so right for the wild West), and we talk of Alaska and Montana adventures. I'll be roadblocking the parade downtown with trapeze goddess Reby, who is ALSO head of our kitchen operations (!) and who could easily stop traffic... (see photo, R). Enthusiastic volunteers arrive to blockade the block unnecessarily with their cars... their parade-related glee is palpable!  And there's nothing quite like the view of a marching band cresting a hill. We join in the line as it passes by out block, and Annie and I look up to see a drone filming it. We shout, "Hello, NSA!" as a woman walks past us in a chicken suit, walking a dalmation the size of a great Dane. 

Workshops happen right after the parade, in Heritage Village. I check out the historic museum, which houses some very Clara Tweaker outfits... And I buy postcards - I know, totally old school -  determined to send one to my brother, Todd. We have a lifelong tradition involving a specific text that we write to each other, simply substituting the place name and some other variables (Annie sez it's like a Mad Libs postcard). And I have been totally remiss about it in the digital age. Todd has four shoeboxes of these in his closet from my 25 years of touring...  I realize I’d usually send one to my grandmother, who passed away in 2012. I haven’t been on a trip like this since she died, just NY/LA/NY, etc.. She and my grandfather are responsible for my chronic wanderlust, so I know they're smiling somewhere. And I'm sad because I want to send one to my late kitty, Sitka. Alex and I did that a few times. I consider doing so, with no address. Missing him very badly today for some reason.

Annie and I buzz the downtown for evil chocolate chip mint ice cream and iced coffee, talking to locals about the parade. I resist buying more moose items (that's a thing for me). Annie gets great $3 sandals at a Thrift Shop to replace her $40 new ones that broke. I attend Paul's History of Chautauqua presentation and am struck with the idea of writing a goofy operetta for next year... The beautiful and wise Joannie Murayama's workshop about her mother's experiences in a Japanese internment camp in WWII, which inspired her award-winning quilt, is packed and wonderful. 

Back at the ranch, after a yum-tastic cheeseburger dinner, I finish writing Todd's postcard and post to Facebook about Sitka. It's very helpful to air my grief so publicly. It's a huge part of me right now. I look forward to the day when that is not the case, but for now I don't really care what people think about it. If you've ever loved and lost an animal, you understand.

Overheard in the livingroom: “Don’t sit on the Kid” – Carl, re: baby August, asleep on the sofa.

That cow Madeline and I saw yesterday morning has to be chased off property.. Pom, Fiona, Clay and about 3 other people disappear into the trees.  After about 20 minutes, Paul and I start writing bits about it - imagining pieces of their clothing flying out of the woods, accompanied by loud moos, or all of them running out, screaming en masse about the bovine army attack in progress. Chris, Bill, Vivian, Kaya, Annie, Stevedore, Phina and others, undaunted, play a circle game that involves yelling either Yeehaw! / Cows in the Barn / or Get DOWN little DOGGY (that is just wrong!) and moving around depending on the command. Paul and I crack up under a gorgeous sunset and talk about next year's Chautauqua along Alaska’s Marine Highway...

After a giant campfire discussion about how we can stay connected to the communities we have visited this tour (hey, it IS the digital age, even though we are about live, in-the-flesh, old school connection), I decide to try sleeping outside on the porch of Madeline’s second floor bedroom. I inflate my air mattress atop an old boxspring. It's cold and endlessly starry when I bundle up at midnight.

Sun 7/27/14 Trego, MT to Hot Springs, MT

Roderick, Ripped King of the Pancakes

At 5:30 a.m., the mattress is totally deflated and boxsprings are poking my spine. It's freezing out and the longest, loudest freight train echoes its diminished third over the mega-acreage. It was a wonderful 5.5 hours and I am done with Outside for now! Back inside, I sleep until 8:45.  Note to self: get a new air mattress - and give the camping a shot for at least one residency next time.  

I go up to get my blankets and fold up the airbed, happy/sad remembering Sitka pouncing on it as it deflated many times in our guestroom. My sweet boy. Determined to not let that take over my day, I head for coffee. I call Alex on the house line Pom is letting us use (we won’t have cell service in the next town either). Alex says LA is a furnace this week and tells me about the writer's salon show last night (a series he curates). I like hearing about it... but don’t... really... want to... go back to Los Angeles... or think about it right now.. but we do talk about next year's Chautauqua in Alaska's Inside Passage. We're honorary Alaskans after all, and Alex's documentary, MUSH (a valentine to the Iditarod) premiered at the Anchorage Film Festival, is shown on Alaska PBS each year.  He says he might like to do a doc on Chautauqua.

Faith Petric's granddaughter (also named Alex) has joined us overnight, having traveled many hours from Dublin to be here. John Cloud shows me a book about Chautauqua history with a chapter on Broadway show adaptations, setting my mind in motion for next year. I chair buckstop the ranch w/ Clara, take care of dishes duty and help pack the kitchen truck before a final look back at the treeline. Then I repack the trunk and load up for the last trip with Annie & Chloe.

More 99 cent gas station popcorn. WTF? A crazily beautiful drive to 70s #1 hits countdown on Missoula station. “You are so Beautiful to Me, Montana!” sings Annie. Want to buzz Flathead Lake. We meet Ann & Harry for lunch at Norm’s News in Kalispell, a sweet shop extraordinaire Annie finds on Yelp. Mary Janes and tons of black licorice are successfully avoided, but locally made caramel sea salt fudge is not. We also buzz a supermarket, where chunk cheese and gallon-o-water are must-haves. Turns out to be a good move since all of the water in Hot Springs will be sulphuric.

30 miles inland from the gorgeous lake, the terrain starts to look more like Southern California desert, but somehow more majestic. Hot Springs, an oasis near the bottom of a mountain, is a funky, beatnik-y town where home lots often include several small buildings and trailers. RV hookups and propane tanks abound, and sometimes the sulphur is strong in the air. Alameda is an old-fashioned motel - with sulphur soak tubs. I am thrilled to get an air-conditioned room although I know it will be nice and crisp at night. It is dry, dry, dry. And there are bugs now, oddly. I help set up the kitchen w/Annie and Bill, and ponder showering.... smellily...

Our potluck at the Tribal Health Center building is MAMMOTH. We meet Hot Springs residents and people from the nearby rez in Pablo, MT, where we'll be doing workshops and a show tomorrow. It's wonderful to connect with people here, whose lives are shaped so differently, whose histories are unique - and to share a meal, and music and laughter. Someone brought a panniere made of goats milk and apple cider vinegar that she said was a Salish recipe - MUST MAKE THIS AT HOME! Another brought a tamale pie with beef filling. Annie and I dine with new pals including Shenandoah (a Native American man who introduces himself as "43 years sober today")... Local promoter Janelle introduces herself as a Bobs fan ("You’re the Amy Bob! A rockstar!" - never ceases to amaze me when this happens - I am in the middle of high desert Montana!). She leads us to the Oregon Country Fair-type makeshift stage in a garden park, where friendly dogs run loose, and friendly folks of all ages, tattooed and sunburned and tyedyed and laid back, loggers and artists and linemen and firefighters mingle as the heat of the day subsides and the sun drops below the ridgeline.

It's been a long, hot day, and I'm asleep by 10, thickly and happily.

Mon 7/25/14 Hot Springs/Pablo, MT

I'm uber-conscious that I don't have many Morning Meetings left as Ann and Harry review the week's events; they won't include me as of Wednesday. I'm going to miss a highly anticipated tradition - a private show the gang does just for each other, at a place called Jerry Johnson Hot Springs, as well as the shows in Orofino and Spokane. The highlight of today's meeting is droll, pre-teen Jibali’s unenthused “Playground Report” for all kids and parents (that would be Jibali Trippsmith, of the Northern California Trippsmiths, natch). 

We walk a few blocks uphill to do a show at a nursing care, PT and rehab center, at which one woman can’t stop laughing. Although I think she has some kind of condition that's informing this, all I can think of is the line from When Harry Met Sally, " I’ll have what she’s having."

Workshops and a show bring us to the People’s Center for the rest of the day. It's a weekday, so they're not particularly well attended, but I do get to rekindle my tapdancing skills at Toes' workshop with Scramble, Phina and Linnea as Somer Joe accompanies us on trombone.  I join a coffee run back into town  (Polson)  in the Green Bird and discover that EVERYONE gasps when Montana vistas appear. I clock a cool-looking retro place called Burgerville... and a public dock on gorgeous Flathead Lake for later use.

The show redeems the day. Kids join Clay's Ukelele Orchestra. and I see Faith's granddaughter smiling through tears, being hugged by Stephen Bent, as we sing the finale, Faith's anthem, "It's a Pleasure to Know You." I tear up, too. 

Flathead Lake

It is not a question of whether to stop at Burgerville on the way back for Serious Ice Cream. It is a question of how fast John Cloud can get us there. Toes dives into a Huckleberry shake and an adorable dude more enthusiastic than a wolf in a henhouse tries to talk me into way more sundae than I need, but suffice it to say we are sufficiently stoked, and the place is charming and stupid cheap. My dockhopping dip dreams on Flathead Lake are dashed when we get to the public dock and swarms of winged things have begun their sunset parade.

But the drive back is to die for under the wide sky. These cows must be so happy. The sunset is mystical. I wander thru camp, dazed from the day. Shannon and Stephen return from a jaunt away - YAY! We are all zzzzzzzzzzz.........

Tues 7/29/14 Hot Springs, MT

The Shazambulance Rocks the Parade!

Woke up early for a silky sulphur soak at Symes Hot Springs under a cloudless sky. Amazing. Undid the cleanliness within minutes marching in my last parade, through downtown Hot Springs. It was the biggest yet, I think, in that most of the town was in it! The gang stops smack in the middle of downtown to do a 15-minute teaser show and the crowd goes nuts.

It's gonna be a hot one. Looking at the mound of laundry that is my suitcase, I think about the sound of my washing machine back in Los Angeles... and repack so the clean stuff's on top. I'll just wanna grab it, and not the whole bag, at motels on the drive home.

Raggedy Annie's Club

Paul and I briefly rehearse the Clara tweaker segment of the Vaudeville show with Kym Trippsmith, who's going to take over the role once I've left. I'm sure the mammoth-voiced Kym will be amazing in a completely different way.

For some reason I thought this would be a busier day - I turned down some musical transcription work thinking that - but I decide that a nice nap with the AC will work out just fine - because it’s just. Too. Freaking Hot. Outside. (101). So I am not attending the (outdoor) workshops. I notice there's a television in the room - wow - haven't seen one in two weeks. Weather Channel, natch. Nap, nap, nap.

John Cloud has been sampling the local BBQ here in Montana as we went along, and he generously shares the latest brisket and beans from Polson with me and Toes for dinner. Molto Yumness is achieved. And thanks, John!

Scarlett, Stevedore and Daniel honk it up backstage

I drive my keyboard over to the stage two blocks away because it's still a sweatbath, although the sun is sinking. And despite being the Low-Techiest show we've done yet, it's really great. There are a million people to thank in this town, who worked particularly hard to bring us here, and Paul and I take turns doing NPR pledge drive-type speeches for even more funding. I threaten that if we don't make our nut, we're going to leave people behind, starting with the horn players and suggest that we auction off the band to cover some costs. :)

Faith's granddaughter, Alex, is one of the anvil-strikers in our "Anvil Chorus." (Which I find immensely cool.) Everyone figures out how entrances and exits with only one set of stairs... the sound guy goes AWOL... and the crowd is huge and wonderful. Kinda feels like those great, sweaty summer stock shows I did a million years ago on the East coast.. :) It's a great evening to go out on.

"We're gonna burn the beauty of this world into our souls..."

Ann, Jibali and Annie - all Greek to me

As we sing the closing song, I'm looking out over this crowd, under the finally-waning evening sunlight in Towanda Gardens, and the glare of floodlights set up for the show, I'm feeling surreal and fully present at the same time. This time tomorrow, I'll be in a motel in Salt Lake, heading out to pick up Alex at the airport. "It's a pleasure to know you, indeed."

We invade Fergie's Pub in downtown Hot Springs. The patrons are welcoming and the beer (and hard cider) is plentiful. Stephen leads the band in a series of jams. We dance with reckless abandon - and locals. Harry and I have a long talk at the long bar. It's a wonderful last night. As I walk the quiet blocks back to Alameda with a posse of kickass gals, several deer pop out from backyards, ushering us safely home under insanely bright stars.

Wed 7/30/14 Hot Springs, MT to Salt Lake City UT

My final morning meeting... Hearing about the upcoming Orofino and Spokane shows, I'm sad not to be a part of them. But I have gigs in Los Angeles to get back to, and I really do have to stop the financial bleed. As I mentioned, this is an all-volunteer tour, no reimbursement for gas or hotels, and I gave up gigs to be here. And I'd do it all again.

Doing something like Chautauqua is as rewarding (if not more) as doing a high profile or high paying professional gig, but in completely different ways. You make deals with yourself. Mine was "leave on July 30." But I didn't think it would feel so wrong to do so. I know everyone's name in this circle. People I didn't know on July 15. And yet, I'm going to miss... cleaning up their breakfast dishes. :) Joanie gives me a special card she made. The group gives me a "Fantastico!" I thank them all sincerely, then pack my camping chair into the trunk.

I make the hug round before taking off. Stephen says, "Nooooooooo." I feel the same way.

Chloe: Oooh. Ah.

Chloe and I set out for Missoula under glorious skies, the kachina from the People's Center hooked onto my visor. John Cloud told me not to disrespect its power. I hope it is "A Good" for the long drive home. The drive elicits more oooh and aah. Montana is just freaking breathtaking.

But when we buzz Starbucks in Missoula, I feel the magic crack down the middle. Civilization. And it feels sadly good to have the sausage, egg and cheese sandwich.  When I drop Chloe at the Greyhound station, it is decided that the kachina is indeed not "A Evil" and is in fact, "A Good," since there are restaurants and stores within walking distance, and Chloe has a long wait for the bus to Seattle. I am, sadly, not going in that direction today...

I start the last audiobook, a Robert B. Parker Spencer mystery read by Joe Mantegna, as the most beautiful interstates I've been on in a long while wrap their mountainous arms around the IAREmobile. It is a truly scrumptious, gaspy, tearful and stunning drive. Again, I am so sad to not have my phone's camera (these are images from web travel sites). The red rock starts to creep in shortly after I cross into Utah. I've been on I-15 in parts of Idaho but can't really remember it. All I can think is, "Where's the Chautauqua gang right now?" This is something I will think a lot over the next few days.

I beeline the shower in the Salt Lake motel even before checking e-mail and Alex's flight status. It's really nice of him to fly up and drive the last 2 days with me. As I head to the airport, I am both grateful that he's here and immensely sad that we no longer need to get a catsitter when we are both gone. Sitka will not be waiting to tell us all about what he did while we were gone. My grief is morphing, but far from over. This trip eased it a little, but the river is still very deep. Alex arrives. I say how different Salt Lake looks in the summer (we both love seeing it dreary and snowy in Chilly Scenes of Winter), and we spoon into the morning.

Thu 7/31/14 Salt Lake City UT to Primm, NV

 

Wow. Maybe it was a dream. My first morning in 2 weeks without a circle meeting. Without washing dishes for 50 people. I feel weird. Alex and I head to the carbohydrate-filled breakfast and are surrounded by tourons. We both do work online and are on the road by 11am. It's gorgeous. It was gorgeous 17 years ago when we took all of those National Parks/Motel 6 weekend trips here during our dayjob years. Boy, I love traveling in the West.

Lunch is way better than we could have expected. Shunning the national chains, we opt for the locally owned All American Classic Diner in Cedar City. Yumness is achieved as the humidity breaks and the skies open up into brief thundershowers.

I'm excited that we'll go through the massively awesome Virgin River Gorge again - on that 27-mile strip of I-15 that cuts across the NW corner of Arizona. (Here's a video of that road, which I recommend that you begin around 1:35 unless you wanna read the historical stuff with a lame soundtrack.) It's a amazing as I remembered, but the reality of the drought rears its ugly head again - there is no river here now. There used to be signs advertising white water rafting. Wow.

We make excellent time until we hit a complete standstill in the middle of a construction zone that's ALSO the scene of an accident. It's 111 degrees out, about 4:30 p.m., and we are parked for 90 minutes. The sun is still very strong. This is not fun. With about 1/4 tank of gas left, of course, we turn off the car. Eventually we inch forward and are re-routed in a 50 mile detour through Valley of Fire State Park at sunset. Which is spectacular, but we are so heat-soaked and miserable we just want tall cool drinks and a bed.

Vegas buffet plans are abandoned as we plow through to Whiskey Pete's in Primm (formerly Stateline), pricelined at the end of the detour at a travel plaza. It's another icebox room. So YAY for that!


Fri 8/1/14 Primm, NV to Los Angeles, CA


These pictures, from The Mad Greek in Baker, CA, tell you all you need to know about this day, which ends in Los Angeles with me checking my phone into Cellphone Hospital. Alex remarks that, thanks to Obamacare, it will not be denied treatment or upcharged because of any pre-existing conditions. In every sense of the word, I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack.

Wait a second... Chautauqua lessons at the Mad Greek in Baker, CA?

Until we meet again, in the woods of Montana... I will be, at any given time: back and forth between New York and LA, on planes, on my laptop, on stages, in rehearsal rooms, in my studio, at Starbucks, on the 405, setting stuff up, knocking stuff down and always, always working towards being back in that thing. That river. That feeling when what you are doing is TRUE - truer than anything else you do - and your pistons are all firing and you are so 100% you. And if you can make other people's lives better for even a moment while this happens, that's magical.

"Thousands of people are diligently working to make this essential event happen. I am reminded of the sign again “We don’t work for free for nothing.” How true that is. And the something that we work for is so hard to define. I’m tempted towards words like magic, and love but that’s too simple. You have to experience it to understand. The community, the friendship, the experiences, the challenges, the surprises, it all adds up to something that’s almost impossible to find in the day-to-day mundane world we all too often apathetically trudge through. This is the smell of the flowers, the color of the dawn sky, the sound of songs and the feeling of laughter. This is the change we wish to see in the world. So take it with you, wash an extra dish, learn a new tune, start an event, plant a seed, dance in the rain and laugh in the face of adversity. We’re as blessed as blessed can be, so don’t ever forget it. Share your gift with the world. We need it.

Sincerely,

Eli “Dr. Bonkers” March"

-NOTC post from 2012