The Best Laid Plans of Moose and Me: The Bobs in Alaska - March 2009

The first thing you need to know about me, if you don’t already know it: “For a Los Angeles resident, Amy Engelhardt has solid Alaska credentials.” (That’s from the Sitka Sentinel, March 13, 2009 edition. It’s in print so it must be true.)

Alex and I were married north of the Arctic Circle in Coldfoot, AK. I've driven almost everywhere in the state that has a road and through part of the Yukon. My idea of drop dead gorgeous is the George Parks Highway between Fairbanks and Anchorage, in about mid-September. Alex and I have visited the Kenai Peninsula, met a bear on Mendenhall Glacier in Juneau, hiked amongst the spruce in Sitka, lazed in steaming Chena Hot Springs as the aurora blazed above (-12 degrees out in mid- February), laughed our butts off Ice Bowling at Fur Rondy (Anchorage's Winter Carnival) and ferried down the Lynn Canal, North America's longest fjord (not the Fjord Fiesta) from Skagway to Haines to see the Bald Eagle Preserve. We intermittently scheme to go to Barrow, Nome, and the Pribilof Islands. Alex is currently working on a new documentary about the Iditarod, and was in fact in Anchorage for the "Ceremonial start" and in Willow for the "Actual start" this year.

So why would I not scheme to bring The Bobs to Alaska? The Bobs last toured Our 49th State right before I joined the band. Lori Bob got to go to Anchorage and Valdez with them in 1997. So when Alex and I visited Sitka in 2002, I contacted a local promoter to see if I could get the ball rolling. Many e-mails, plans and moons later, it all came together with the addition of dates further into the state courtesy of super-promoter Trudy Heffernan - Fairbanks, Anchorage and Kodiak Island! It was to be the dream tour for me in many ways. I'd get to do what I love to do in a place that makes me simply sigh in aesthetic wonderment. Some of which happened!

Thursday 3/19/09 - Sitka? I already Knowya!

I am so very excited to board our 7:50am flight to Sitka. (And yes, regular Bob Tale readers, Sitka is the beauteous spot for which the beauteous kitten Sitka was named.) And it does seem inherently wrong to be going to Alaska without Alex, but hey, he just did it without me! As we descend into Juneau, I see the glacier on the left... forgot to tell Dan to look out for it... And walking to the terminal I am grinning madly. God, it's gorgeous. No real food in the 4-gate terminal, just vending machines... Sitka will be even smaller, tee hee. We land and it's as beautiful as I recalled. Walking to the giant Sitka Fine Arts Camp van, Roger Schmidt, with whom I engineered this Bobs show, is excited we're here, too. I note that the parking lot is now at least partially paved...

Goofy Footnote: Sitka is the only real city on Baranof Island. Population is about 8000. My cousin Lorie's hubby's brother Paul and his wife live here. When Alex and I were here, after a great dinner with us, Paul and Karen offered us their car, to use while they went to Anchorage for the weekend. "Just leave the keys in the glove compartment." It's really the Sitka way. On this island, stealing a car is a misdemeanor, but if the ferry's docked it's a felony. Where you gonna go? There are limited roads! When we got to the Sitka airport for our OWN departure, one parking space remained. We had to park hanging about 5 inches over the painted line defining the space since the person next to was... inconsiderately positioned. Karen emailed us a week later to tell us she had received a voicemail from the Sitka Police Department while she was in Anchorage telling her that her car was spotted at the airport, and it was "ALMOST illegally parked." WHAT THE??!?!?

A semi-cold day. Deserted streets. No cruise ships in town in March. It was crowded when Alex and I were here in autumn. I treat myself, nostalgically, to a bowl of salmon chowder at the new Level II restaurant downtown (used to be The Bayview - we have a magnet on our fridge). I nap and do email all afternoon, and Karen picks me up for dinner. More salmon! Yum! Their cool new house is gorgeous, and their kitties Cinderella and Lucky (a recent rescue) very sweet. Their lovely daughter Abby (who DOESN'T like the internet and loves to read) tells me all about the worm compost farm in the kitchen. Karen and Paul were Bobs fans before we even met. Kinda cool. We have a great conversation about... everything. Paul is teaching his students about one of the last terrible Native American massacres. Karen reveals that she too has a Facebook account (Paul didn't know). It's cozy. I offer to house-sit for them for a week this summer and we agree to keep in touch about it. How amazing would that be?!?! The view of Mt. Edgecumbe alone, from their livingroom, makes me weep!

The Bobs take over KCAW's Raven Radio that evening for about an hour. Many thanks to the effervescent Rachel and her young assistant, Savannah. While we're on the radio, fans who were "just driving by and heard you" drop by the studio THREE TIMES! Where else in the country can you get that kind of hometown greeting? We sign a quilt that's being donated to a local organization, Rachel gives us some great Raven Radio swag and we head back - across the street, basically - to the hotel. My cell phone doesn't work here, or I'd call Alex... I fall asleep dreaming of places as gorgeous as... where I actually am!

Friday 3/20/09 - Quoth the Raven: "You're Not Doing The Show."

We walk across the street at 8:00am to do another KCAW plug for the morning host, Robert. Good silly fun. Coffee at the Back Door, then a great workshop at Sitka High School. I can't help but wonder, as I did on Lopez Island (in Washington state's San Juans), how growing up in a breathtakingly scenic place influences you. Yes, family drama is family drama, but does it sculpt your mind? Your general outlook? How would seeing the Baranof Island Range and the Alexander Archipelago versus, say, a brick wall and a dumpster outside your bedroom window shape your view of the world and its possibilities? I announce our website, myspace, and Facebook presence, and am pleasantly surprised when the kids boo Matthew's son's comment that "Facebook is for old people." (I will rub Duncan's face in that later when I find him and FRIEND him on Facebook!) We stroll through the Performing Arts Center, a stellar new addition to the high school, where "we" will be performing tonight. It puts some Lower 48 venues to shame.

It's about 40 degrees and the sun keeps playing a supporting role in the sky, so I am shocked that none of The Bobs want to join me for a very non-strenuous, mile long hike in the Sitka National Historical Park. This totem- filled rainforest trail is a canopy-filled wonder of Sitka spruce and western hemlock right on the rocky coast (yes, a forest on the coast), offering views of the harbor, the little islands, the towering, Baranof Mountains glistening in the snow. It's... Mmmmmm..... The trail itself is surprisingly un-slushy and I pass several mid-day joggers and dog-walkers. It's calming, oxygenating, crisp. The Visitor Center Ranger asks if I want to see the movie about the park. "No thanks, I got what I came for." I cruise back to the hotel, stopping to get some goofy souvenirs downtown. It is a perfect afternoon. I'll get dinner later at the venue. The peanuts and lo-carb bar I just ate can hold me until then.

CUE HORROR FILM MUSIC! I'm instant messaging with a friend in Massachusetts when my descent begins. I proceed to vomit, shake and... basically... Loo It Up all afternoon, freezing cold and increasingly dizzy. I can't figure out which end to toilet first! Huge headache. It felt like food poisoning at first but that is eventually OVER, and this was much more severe. All that salmon yesterday? I'd have been sick last night. The peanuts from Fred Meyer? Were they part of that recall a month ago? At 5:30, Matthew comes to fetch me and I toss the van key out to him, praying this will subside. They'll do soundcheck and send someone to get me later. At 6:30, a lovely girl comes to fetch me (she must have lost a bet). I am on the floor in the bathroom mumbling something like "Oh god, oh god." Before I am able to get myself out the door I will vomit in the bathtub WHILE sitting on the pot. It's that horrific. I get to the venue eventually and consult with a doctor. I unpack my stage clothes. WHAT WAS I THINKING?!?! That it would magically stop and I'd be able to sing a Bobs show. I run for the bathroom. I crawl out. When The Bobs walk into the dressing room I am curled up in a ball in the corner and have no saliva. Matthew orders me to the ER. I apologize profusely to Roger, saying how heartbroken I am. Sitka is Russian for "Archangel." That would be Dr. Connie Kreiss, who drives me to the ER at 7:20pm as I barf into a garbage bag into her car. I see happy people heading into the theater as we pull out of the parking lot... bleahhhhh.

I watch the Bobs show tick by on the ER clock at Mt. Edgecumbe Hospital as Aidan, Connie, Christine and another doctor whose name I cannot recall pump SEVERAL liters of fluid into me that... doesn't come out... as well as an anti-nauseant (which makes the rest of the evening semi-bearable). The good news is that this ER is only three beds wide and I'm the only patient. Not quite the ER experience in, say, Los Angeles? The staff is really wonderful. I call Alex on a nurse's cell (remember, mine doesn't work here) and ask him to call our insurance company - I can't think clearly enough to deal with that and can't remember if we're supposed to do it... ah, our wonderful health care bureaucracy! They run tests as I freeze under 3 layers of clothes and 3 layers of heated blankets. It is, as they say, "Not My Idea of a Gig." Connie comes by at intermission to check on me. It's going well. It occurs to me that The Bobs have never played here, so this audience doesn't know what we are normally like... and boy howdy are they in capable hands with Dan, Richard and Matthew. I am just, well, I think disappointed pretty much sums it up. Disappointment Pants. I tell Connie to go back and enjoy the show. She's too shy to give The Bobs the message, "Quit talkin' trash about me!" I am diagnosed with a classic case of Viral Gastroenteritis. It is not food poisoning. Antibiotics are ineffective against it. You must treat it symptomatically and wait it out. Connie comes back around 11 as I am just finishing my IV drip and shuttles me back to the hotel with some medicines that should..."hold me" over the next few days.

The guys come back with Roger about 10 minutes later and I meet them in the lobby. I think we are all shocked I am awake and mobile, not to mention standing upright, considering what I must have looked like when they left me on the dressing room floor, crawling towards the bathroom. The show was fine - they got a Standing O - and Roger says, "You'll just have to come back." What a great guy. I still feel sad but I am actually really happy the audience got their entertainment dollar's worth. Dan was in the hospital a few years ago (acute pneumonia) and Richard, Matthew and I did a trio gig. It felt... hole-y to us but was a fine performance. Oy. What can I say? I head upstairs to pack - we leave at 4:40am.

Saturday 3/21/09 - Is This a Dry Town or is it just Me?

Fairbanks Webcam Link

I tell the desk clerk to sterilize the room I was in, we board the shuttle and cross the bridge to Japonski Island, home to the Sitka Airport. There are people from last night's audience on our flight. "Is that the sick girl?" They ask this and point as if I am a doll or something! I am so out of it I hardly notice our TWO landings (Juneau and Anchorage) on the way to Fairbanks. I actually sleep on the plane. Mace, who is one half of Acoustic Adventures, our Fairbanks promoter, meets us at baggage claim. Heading to the rental car, it's 4 degrees outside and windy. I am laughing but wishing I could REALLY laugh... In the Subaru wagon, Wyoming-raised Dan cannot help himself... "I've been in cold before, but.. this is...... F**k!" There is a cord in the car- you plug it in overnight so it will START in the morning. I remember laughing when Alex and I did that here. Mace is another angel - once we're at the hotel, she offers to run to the local Fred Meyer and brings back bananas, apple juice, water and... extra strength Imodium. I sleep on and off all day, confused when it's a different Law & Order case on the TV.

We head to UAF campus NPR station KUAC with Dan's friend Dorly around 6:30 and it's still light out... daylight savings time in the Great White North. Fairbanks itself is not particularly scenic but the quality of the light when you are this far north is distinctive. Beautiful. The sun seems to rise and set somewhere in the South... it's odd, magical. You cannot tell time by the sky here. Sunsets linger. We have a great time on the program and I get to throw around my Alaska pedigree a bit. I decline dinner @ Dorly's place - not ready for that yet. I'll just get toast from the hotel restaurant. I am so hungry and sad to have to eat all of these carbs, which I don't even like anymore. They aren't filling, and I have felt famished since Friday. And all the sugar from the juices and breads makes me sleepy, so I can't tell if the dizziness is from the dehydration or the carbs as I fall asleep on every chair, sofa and bed in the room over the next few days!

Sunday 3/22/09 - The Fairbanksest of Them All

I pass when Richard calls at 10am to say they are headed out for coffee - still not that recovered yet. More toast. But I am feeling much more human today and.. all's quiet internally, so maybe I'll eat real food tonight. At 2pm we unplug the car (!) and head for our 4pm matinee at Davis Concert Hall at the University of Fairbanks (UAF). It's particularly odd to hear from Matthew that The Bobs have played here twice because when we get there I recognize the lobby. Alex and I stood right here in 2002 and peeked in this concert hall, and I said, "I wonder if The Bobs could play here." The building's right across from the bookstore, where we bought cool UAF gear. KUAC serves as our dressing room. I am kind of dizzy in the show - it's difficult to get breath support (singing a Bobs show requires a TON of this, O Vocal Students), sometimes hard to focus. Not surprising. I am drinking water like a fish. And I have noshed on some veggies in the green room... feels OK so far.

After the show, Trudy, Mace, their kidlets and friends take us out to an Italian dinner on the outskirts of town. And in Fairbanks, the outskirts feel just like the tundra! The sun is just beginning to set as we head into The Veletta. I dare to have a small salad but skip the onions, and about 1/3 of some chicken parmagian. Later on we're joined by someone I went to high school with, now a glaciologist and scientist studying the impacts of climate change on the arctic landscape. I haven't seen Matt in 25 years. In my mind he's a baby-faced, kid wearing a corduruoy blazer with elbow patches, a wisecracker at the back of Mr. Bertsch's trig class, leaning back on his pastel plastic chair until it tips over. He's a tall, weathered guy with extremely long hair, a beard, and a eyes that say, "I have spent a lot of time mapping the Arctic." Softspoken. The people at the table know him from the university. He is more at ease with them. We didn't really know each other at school. It's still kind of fascinating just to look at him side by side with the picture in my mind. I can't help but wonder what he is thinking. Oddly enough, I found him through the Iditarod Insider, an online subscription Alex has for the documentary. I clicked on a page that had Matt's name. He filmed the background images used in the musher GPS tracking software. How cool is that?

It's just getting dark around 9 and we head back to the hotel. Matthew and Richard aren't interested in going to Chena Hot Springs tomorrow. The workshop we're doing is 18 miles down the same road that ends at the hot springs 40 miles later. I'm kind of shocked. To each his own, I suppose. But you can't convince these guys. I know I am a lot more psyched to be here than they are, but their lack of adventure is puzzling. Dan is game, though. Ah well. Back at the hotel I think about Matt. He asked me about our 25th Reunion this May. He'd probably be the farthest flung Prepster there. His laid-backness doesn't begin to convey the scope of his amazing work and the places it has taken him. When I asked him why he came to the Arctic after college, he said, "What was I going to do? Just get a job and an apartment in New Jersey?" Indeed.

Monday 3/23/09 - Various Eruptions

I do NOT feel good today. A semi-relapse. Maybe I am not timing the medication correctly... always tricky with GI illnesses. I think I ate real food too soon. I will not make it up to Chena Hot Springs to see the Aurora Ice Hotel. Probably not a good idea to keep putting myself in places that are further and further from civilization when I have this stuff going on! I can't effectively communicate how sad this makes me. I love Alaska so much, so having this happening while all I want to do is frolic and do what I love to do, on a tour I basically shepherded into being, is... well... words cannot express it!

We head up Chena Hot Springs Road. When I came here with Alex, we took the Resort's Van from the Airport up to the hot springs. I remember spotting moose in the wooded areas on the side of the road. You don't want to encounter a moose, though - just point and be amazed! Out at Two Rivers School, Trudy has set up a sound system. She's super psyched that she was finally able to bring a band out to this school for a workshop. The kids are great. Dan is particularly goofy today, too. Which is good since I am so dehydrated again I feel faint and need to sit between our 30 minute sessions.


And then the Mt. Redoubt volcano erupts in Southern Alaska. All flights north of Anchorage have been canceled as a precaution. We were supposed to fly to Anchorage (about an hour flight and a 7 hour drive) at 5pm but are rebooked for tomorrow morning, assuming the wind changes direction. That's a new one to deal with! Our Anchorage show isn't until tomorrow anyway. Well, this hotel is really comfy and I'm not... I ask Matthew to pick up some bread up for me at Fred Meyer. He returns with the most fiber-rific, grain-encrusted dark loaf I've ever seen and rhapsodizes about it. Sweet. I park in front of the computer, waiting for the next round of medicine to kick in. Facebook and the Internet are lifesavers tonight. They keep my mind off of my tummy when I am not tired. Sans Scrabble with folks around the country and previously missed episodes of ER and The Daily Show, I would have gone bananas (instead of eating them) obsessing about my insides.

Tuesday 3/24/09 - Iditabobs

The folks at the front desk tell us people have come in from Anchorage this morning! A great sign. And I am feeling much better today. We check our bags at the Fairbanks Airport, and after VERY brief debate at the Alaska Airlines counter, rebook our flight back to Seattle for tomorrow instead of Thursday. The airline is waiving all change fees (Acts of God and all that - and take THAT, Bobby Freaking Jindal!) There is no way we will chance flying to Kodiak for our show at the Orpheum Theater, which NPR station KMXT was to sponsor. Without the threat of being stranded because of the volcano we had been willing to roll the dice - folks are routinely stuck on Kodiak Island because of weather issues. Matthew gets us seats on the 6:30 am to Seattle tomorrow, and our flight down to Anchorage takes off without incident. We can see some greyness in the southwest but not major stuff. Denali is out today and the Alaska Range is as breathtaking as I'd remembered. I can't stop smiling. It was worth the whole trip to see this again. I am excited as we descend over Cook Inlet...

I'd forgotten about the massive stuffed bear in Anchorage's Ted ("The internets is a series of tubes") Stevens International Airport. Alex smiles around every corner here. The first thing the Kodiak promoter tells Matthew when they speak is that the show's not gonna happen - they were pounded with snow and nothing's moving there. So we made the right choice. And it's 40 degrees here! The airport's bigger now. The city's bigger. More and more locals are calling it "Los Anchorage," still a stretch. The promoter is Mike McCormick from the University of Alaska at Anchorage - but he's pure Bostonian. And a great guy. His restaurant/coffee rundown of downtown Anchorage is encyclopaedic, but I am half-listening. I am staring at the mountains. They are hypnotic. Surreal. Amazing.

The weather's so nice I walk downtown and buzz the Downtown Deli for some oatmeal, a good first meal out. I call Alex. Yes, he confirms, the Iditarod Dog statue on Fourth Street a block away was where the race began on March 8. A lot of the street snow has since melted but there's still quite a lot. Alex tells me to go to the top of the parking garage @ 4th and C (the "eagle" floor) for a panoramic vista. It doesn't disappoint. I buy some gifts at the Official Iditarod Store and have to diss the staff for not knowing who JUST got the Red Lantern in Nome this morning (traditionally awarded to the last musher who finishes the race). Come on, you guys. You work here! I live in Los Angeles and I KNOW! It clouds over, so I bag a plan to walk a bit of the Knik Arm Trail that begins downtown. I kind of feel jinxed about doing that anyway since I got so sick after my wonderful Sitka hike. Sad but true. So I do laundry and nap before we leave for UAA - in palpable traffic!

The venue is a gorgeous, 200-seat recital hall in the UAA Fine Arts Building. I read the interview Richard did for the student paper, the Northern Light. Apparently their photo editor planted a flag about our normal publicity photo (the power tools pic). "Concert photos only" - which we don't have. I'll come back to that. Kind Mike runs to the cafeteria to fetch me some chicken soup and I'm visited by locals Mary & Janetta, two fabulously smart, wry gals who used to run a B&B in their Cheney Lake home. We hit it off immediately when Alex and I stayed there on our first trip (in 1995, when we got married) and again in the winter of 2000. We just clicked right away, and 9 years later it feels like we're continuing the same great conversaion. They even asked about our stuffed moose, Marty, a constant companion on those trips. Why yes, he is back at the hotel!

The show is LOTS of fun. A crowd of all ages, from music students to longtime Bobs fans. I am amazed when 1/3 of the crowd raises their hands when we ask how many people have seen The Bobs before. Same thing happened in Fairbanks. GET YOUR MONKEY OFF MY DOG is a phrase you could hear at the Iditarod. Richard asks if there are monkeys at the Iditarod. "Sure - they're the ones who scratch." In the Tom Spath intro I reference Palindromes ("hey, didn't she run for VP?"). And I insist that we get a "concert photo" for The Northern Light. "OK, act like we're really into something we're singing." The audience loves it.

After the show, lots of fans. Kyle, who puzzles about how to get the folks in the a cappella group he founded on campus to commit, to not be afraid to make funny sounds. The sweet young Arts editor of the Northern Light, apologetic and fresh-faced (!), folks who saw The Bobs in 1997. When I tell them it wasn't me they saw in Alaska with the group, they try to refute this point, so my new tack is this: I ask if the woman they saw in the group was awesome. If so, it was me. If not, it wasn't! I snag a cool poster from the wall and Mike chauffeurs us back to the Clarion Suites. Wish I could stay longer and hang out with Mary & Janetta. Wish I could see those mountains every day of my life.

Wish there was a thermostat in the room. When I ask the front desk folks what I can do about the fact that the room's boiling hot (a frequent hotel problem in Alaska, actually), the woman tells me there's a thermostat under the window. No, that's the heating/air conditioning unit. She says, "You turn it from hot to cold." That's not a thermostat. A thermostat has a temperature reading. It adjusts the room to the setting you program.. "Hey," the dude next to her says, "Do you want me to show you how to work it?"

Wednesday 3/25/09 - NOT a Kodiak Moment, or Best Gig Cancellation Excuse Ever

The room is way too hot and the air conditioner is too noisy so, no sleep. That's OK for the last night. We board the airport shuttle in the dark at 5:00 a.m. It's a positively balmy 42 degrees outside. Spring has sprung. And planes are still flying in Southern Alaska - it's the northwest part of the state that is now affected. Later on, we will look back on this exit strategy as a stroke of pure luck. It's the last day of this week that most flights will be allowed to leave Anchorage. If we hadn't rebooked we'd have missed our shows in Port Townsend and Seattle. The volcano will continue to erupt all week, covering the Kenai Peninsula and putting Anchorage in a Volcanic Ash Alert. We all have exit row seats. I see the sun rise over the mountains and glaciers of Southeast Alaska and note the British Columbian coast peeking through clouds.

No, it wasn't the Dream Tour I'd imagined. But Alaska is still a Big, Wide, Magical place. I'll be back. AND NOT STUCK IN A DAMNED BATHROOM FOR HALF OF THE TRIP!!!

(C)2009 Amy Bob Engelhardt

Sleigh Bobs Ring! December 2008, Part One

SOME BROWSERS REVEAL HIDDEN CAPTIONS IF YOU HOLD YOUR CURSOR OVER THE PICTURES!

Thursday 11/27/08 - Smirky Turkey?

This Delta bird is bound for JFK. Back to back Law & Order, CSI (which sometimes makes Law and Order look positively subtle), and The Closer on TV. Now that a lot of airlines have TV as an option, Southwest DOES seem no frills on long flights... didn't used to! Naturally my bag is last off the plane - this is always the case when you are in a hurry... I am headed to the West Village for a wondrous feast with Uber-Bobs Fan Fred, his wife Adria and son Josh, and their extended family. Fred works with ASCAP (of which I am a proud, card-carrying member) and has supplied The Bobs with serious ASCAP swag for years, and after several offers of a downtown nest, we've taken him up on it - not just for me but also for Matthew, whose usual Manhattan roosts are unavailable. The meal is fabulous, as is the company (the jokes, not so much!). The turkey, a BMI writer, was indeed cooked to perfection. After dinner, exhausted but happy to be back in da crisp cold again, I play with their goofy tuxedo kitty Minko Minko, and get about 6 hours of sleep... eventually…

Friday 11/28/08 - Wonderful Town

Matthew and I accompany Fred on a lovely stroll downtown to do some errands on this perfect fall day... including Murray’s Cheese Shop, where, after discussing their large stock of California creamery cheeses, the counter guy declares, “Hey, YOU can stay," and Guitar Center where, amongst other worshipful dudes, Fred drools over a carbon acoustic in the humidity-controlled guitar room. Adria calls just as he begins to discuss the price with the salesperson. How did she know?

Lunch at Le Pain Quotidien (very much like the one in West Hollywood, except we won't be on any verandas today) on this crisp day, then a brief nap before Dan and Richard arrive. Must be strange for a Bobs fan to have us rehearse in their livingroom. Later, Fred tells us that, listening in from the loft, he marveled at how "you guys sound like we do in meetings!" We discuss possible new openers AND closers ("White Room" is awesome, but nearing temporary retirement) then snarf some leftovers before heading out to the first of two shows at the Metropolitan Room.

I immediately encounter a fan downstairs who brings up my lack of Bob Tales in 2008 (which prompts me to start THIS one). It's been a full year, people - perhaps not with Bobs tours, but I've been busy! I'm going to wear my new red, sparkly dress, which leaned towards "tap instructor" at first, but I will decide it works after receiving about five comments a night (and e-mails) about it... This first show is most memorable for Matthew's Amtrak-like trainwreck during "Title of the Song." We just started doing this old tune that Richard Bob co-wrote for the now extinct vocal group, DaVinci's Notebook. Matthew not only forgets the lyrics, but we must plow through it several times. The audience is laughing so hard they're crying. Afterwards, I confess to them that I had to go to a different mental place to get through it - which we've ALL had to do before in Bobs shows. I used to go to a beach or somewhere calming in order not to laugh, but this time I went to Syracuse in order to get depressed enough to not crack up entirely.

My fears of an...underwear incident in that dress during "White Room" are unfounded (I just have to fall the right way, or perhaps get some seriously stooopid HO HO HO underwear?), the Vince Guaraldi tune goes extremely well as an encore, and a reviewer tells us "That was the best trainwreck I've ever seen" as he leaves. We opt to walk home @12:30am with Adria and Fred, who are completely in sync with each other... they impressively finish each other's encyclopaedic entries about New York City history. Back at the ranch we listen to a psychedelic verison of tune called FIRE by Arthur Brown in the dark, downstairs. Yes, it could be a closer... but we really need something that... was released AFTER I WAS BORN. : )

Serious cheese ingestion ensues in the kitchen before I head to bed. BTW, Richard Bob says that if you search for "Title of the Song" on YouTube, you will find about a zillion vocal groups that do it... poorly!

Saturday 11/29/08 - I Loved the 80's

This morning's brunch is brought to you by FACEBOOK! Those of you who are on Facebook understand why I call it Crackbook, but it has some wonderful side effects, like the kind of reunion I have with friends from high school this weekend. It's been at least 20 and in some cases 25 years since I've seen these people, all of whom look amazing! The first is Morgan, who picks me up at Fred's place with her beautiful daughter, Bridget. Over a scrumptious brunch at the NoHo Star, we catch up and I marvel at the fact that her daughter is the same age we were when she and I were friends. Morgan was one of six seniors who basically comprised the drama and music departments at Rutgers Prep when I was a sophomore. When they graduated, RPS was an artistic Dresden, save for me and about two people. My 1980's pledge to never forgive them is completely invalidated as we laugh about life, love and the paths we've taken to these lovely Eggs Benedicts.

I spend the afternoon listening to mixes of the demo I produced in Seattle last week and email notes to Peter, the composer in Montreal. I wrote the lyrics for a rock musical adaptation of Carl Sagan's CONTACT (the book, not the movie) and this is a working demo for the workshop production that goes up in May 2009. Quite an exciting project!

Dan and Richard come over for more rehearsal... we discuss doing a Journey cover and paw through Fred's many GREATEST HITS books for ideas before heading out to a Grand dinner at the Grand Sichuan! Mark (better known as Alexei Karamazov), his friend, Kate, Fred & Adria, Richard's daughter Ashley, and Dan's friend Eric (a gourmet chocolate salesperson who always brings us amazing Valrhona samples!) and his wife, and Josh and his friends have an immensely flavorful Chinese Chowdown before we cab to the show. God, I miss Chinese food. NEW YORK Chinese food. Despite what you might assume, there is no really good Chinese food in Los Angeles. (Sounds like a Bobs song...) I skip the rice but feel semi-high on the sauce sugars...

We premiere my new arrangement of Jill Sobule's "Jesus was a Dreidel Spinner" as well as the very OLD arrangement of "Bus Plunge," which is so out in the context of the Holiday Show or ANY show (which I kind of... love). "Title of the Song" is great (Matthew nails the words). And afterwards I reune with Ed and Jon, two more high school friends. Ed now lives in Puerto Rico, so this is truly a treat. In my mind, Ed is always sitting at a piano in a high school music room playing and singing Billy Joel's "She's Always a Woman to Me." We hope to brunch tomorrow as I am shuttled off to sign CDs for fans and then pack us up.

Minko Minko decides to sphinx out on top of me on this last evening Chez Fred & Adra. Thank you, Minko Minko. I will tell Santa about you!

Sunday 11/30/08 - Pennsyltucky (as Grandpa Benny called it)

Ed calls to say he can't come back into the city for brunch, but we talk for about an hour and it's great to catch up. And after I think about it, I realize that Ed and I have never had any really long conversations that weren't interrupted by a bell ringing. I have a froggy voice on this drizzly day... that's OK. Sirius Radio confirms that we are coming in to tape a Bobs Christmas Special on Monday - YAY! Matthew and I lounge around with our hosts until about 2 p.m., then leave for an upper west side pickup at Starbucks, where Mark sees us off in the La Guardia-fetched rental Dan and Richard arrive in. The drive to Pennsylvania takes about 3 hours, eventually in the dark, which Matthew will keep reminding us is indeed "dark" on this trip for some reason... As we vroom down the Turnpike for the millionth time, passing the Newark Swamps, thoughts of the enviro-cleanup I have imagined here since I was 13 and riding the trains to classes in New York invade. Why hasn't someone done that? I bet that some of the garbage along the NJ Transit tracks has been there since I lived here. What a job that would be. SOMEONE SHOULD DO IT.

A Syracuse grad from 2007 (yikes) is our soundperson at the super-cool Sellersville Theater. She's ALSO super, (knowing I graduated 20 years before her... isn't). We have a superb dinner next door (tilapia, baby) and are treated to a wonderful opening act - Little Toby Walker, who is actually of normal size but of immense blues talent. The show rocks - and we hope to return to this venue, where everything runs like clockwork (which is...not always the case...). Dan drives us back to the hotel, since Matthew has determined it's TOO dark. Wish I hadn't forgotten my camera - the embodiment of the lyrics of our Fifty Kilowatt Tree was glowing radioactively at a home just blocks from the theater!

Monday 12/1/08 - Nights on the Laptop in Chantilly (that sounds vaguely... adult)

This is... technically a day off. After a rainy drive to DC it's decided that, since there's enough stuff within walking distance to the hotel, Richard will take the car out to Broad Run, where he now lives part time. Richard inherited a farm and several acres there a few years back. We all get to our rooms and pretty much collapse. I do email and Facebook all day as the drizzle outside gets colder... Dan joins Facebook but doesn’t add me as a friend immediately. What is THAT about? My good friend Eric bails on dinner… but I don't blame him - DC burb traffic is ABOMINABLE - easily as bad or worse than Los Angeles, Boston, New York OR San Francisco. So I use the shuttle to pick up a WONDERFUL French Onion Soup and Blue Cheese wedge salad from Damon’s Grill down the road… then Skype for about 3 hours. With a webcam, you are really talking to someone - it's not like sending an e-mail. Love it. Peter and I discuss the CONTACT demo (he's in Montreal), Alex shows me the Sitka P. at home in Los Angeles, and I find my brother and his wife enjoying a week together in Mantua, Italy after her extended stay there for her dissertation. It's so great to see them together after all this time. The rich irony is not lost on me as I use the crappy 2 for $10 disposable camera from Rite-Aid in New York to take a picture of our conversation in progress!

Tuesday 12/2/08 - No Reston This Town

I Slept Until 11:15. Maybe it's the knowledge that we are here for FOUR NIGHTS? That is truly a luxury on the road. I attempt to go swim in the hotel pool but it's DENIED - the pool is closed for some ungodly reason... and I realize I took not my roomkey, but my DUANE READE card from my desk. So I have to ask the desk clerk for a new roomkey, standing in the lobby in a bathing suit with no ID! Denied THAT kind of exercise, I walk to Starbucks, about a mile away, where I run into Matthew (naturally) after dodging sidewalks full of endless, galactic goose poop. I guess when you pave over their natural habitat, they get mad. (So do I, actually - I think about the hideous Playa Vista near me in Marina del Rey, and the ten-year battle to save the Ballona Wetlands. Pitiful.) At Target I snag pet toys for Sitka, Minko Minko and Peter's dog Sammy (a Canadian goose toy!), then spend the rest of the day entering "Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy" into Finale so I can give Matthew a midi file of his part (for next year). Vocal jazz arranger extraoradinaire Michele Weir and I wrote a great chart of this (I did the lyrics) that Shawnee Press published two years ago.

After more Facebook and Law & Order, it's time for Reston Centerstage, where we did the RHAPSODY IN BOB show in 2005. To say the catering was GREAT would be a vast understatement. (Can you believe this is still a focus of these BobTales? I guess it goes to show what's important to you when you're on the road, really. This and the fact that the Guest Laundry is right down the hall from my room. I HAVE NO LIFE, APPARENTLY!!!) I run into Fred Wygal in the hall. Fred directs the Reston Chorale, who sang with us at Wolf Trap a few years back (See BobTale Bobruary 2002). We discuss a spring visit. I meet the venue's new director, a great guy with a wonderful sense of humor. After the show, at the merch table, some folks come tell me they liked my solo CD... thanks a million, y'all. It's extremely wonderful to hear that. One of them said they didn't know how I'd react to hearing that, if it was cool to talk to me about it. OF COURSE IT IS!

On the way home (via 28 and something else) it dawns on me that all Beltway area roads have the same exits (Old Ox Road, something about a Wheel, George Washington or a schoolhouse) and it takes forever to get anywhere. I dare you to prove me wrong.

Wednesday 12/3/08 - Bed, Bath and Biondo

"We'd like to thank the Academy of Television Arts and Sciences, as well as everyone nominated. But we really deserved to win." Chris "Bloodbath And" Biondo is a four-time Emmy winner. And he's engineering the sessions we are doing today at Biondo Studios for a new kids' products by Hooked on Phonics. We've done several of these (see picture, R) for Russell, the producer, a long time Bobs fan who has also hired me to write for similar projects. While figuring out how to abscond with Chris' Emmys, we spend this fun day singing Russell's fun tunes, like "The Big Pig Song." Gotta say, phrases like “I know words with E” just sound hysterical when intoned with gusto by Richard Bob. These studio days with Russell are always hilarious, and Chris' dry wit adds to the mix. Chris produced the late, great Eva Cassidy ; you are hereby commanded to check that out. Chris also has a serious Simpsons fetish... and tries to contain his glee when I offer to bring something from his collection to Chicago next week for Harry Shearer to sign.

A great dinner with my aunt and cousin @ Damon’s Grill back in Chantilly. It's so good to hear that Jon is happy doing web work instead of dealing with the administrative fifedoms of Florida Community Colleges, where he has taught for the past 10 years. My aunt Bette is headed back to the Virginia Legislature after 6 months off and the kitchen remodeling she's been dreaming of for over 30 years… I pore through the Murray’s Cheese Shop catalogue in bed… and am oddly boiling hot all night afterwards... maybe I have a thyroid condition? This happens to me a lot. Or maybe cheese makes me hot? WHAT THE?!?!??!

Thursday 12/4/08 - Hooked on Phonics

Another day of hilarious vocal slaving for Russell, pronouncing things VERY clearly. Richard sings a blues about trying to wake up (um...), Dan funks out a motown tune, and we add Aretha Franklin- type backgrounds to "Rhyme Time." We also briefly meet Marcy Marxer of Grammy-winning Cathy Fink & Marcy Marxer fame when she lends her non-dulcet banjo tones to another tune. Marcy produced one of the tunes I wrote for Russell's other project, so it's great to actually meet her in person. Lenny Williams from The Capitol Steps pops in to say hello - he and Chris are partners at this studio. Russell’s kids come by to add Genuine Kiddery to the Pig tune, and we head to the Black Market Bistro for dinner based on Chris' recommendation (THANKS, it was awesome!). Russell regales us with stories of his days working on the Castle Infinity project at Paul Allen's studio (including the room that contained One Hendrix guitar), as three of us bacon cheeseburger to our heart's content.

Is it great or lame that the Beltway drivers we encounter on the way back to Chantilly do not dampen the flame of my laundry happiness for the evening? Cellphones were invented so that you could call fellow travelers to tell them, "the washing machine is now available." I Facebook into a world of college memories all night.

Friday 12/5/08 - You Elmer – You Brung 'Er

Leaving the Hampton Inn feels like leaving home after 4 days… isn't that sad? But my socks are dry, so I'm ready to go. Email brings frustration over CONTACT casting issues (a continuing uphill battle, actually), and Dan is bemoaning the loss of his extra 10% discount (on top of the 30% discount) he enjoys at Starbucks, as are we... His discount made Dan our official Coffee Mule, so it will be sad to lose that service! Seriously, when a four dollar coffee (which I recently gave up at home) is a three dollar or less coffee, it makes a difference. I nurse my injured thumb, a victim of the merchandise bag that has no zipper tags as we head north into the Weirdness that is southern New Jersey (being from Central New Jersey, I feel I can say that with authority), with Dan serving now as funk iPod DJ. I talk to the lawyer the creative team might hire for CONTACT and arrange for Monday lodging in New York... Wawa stores begin to appear outside with alarming frequency.

We are playing at Appel Farms – is this where they grow Macs? Dark dark roads lead us to Elmer, NJ (next to Shirley, of course) where this cozy performance space is tucked into what looks like an actual farm. Morgan, who I saw in New York, comes to the show since she lives near Princeton. We alter the set's direction at intermission - the packed audience seems... confused beneath their smiles. Some folks get us, some... don't! The Merchandise Sales Bonanza we are told to expect is a non-event. But the sound dude is a big fan. Someone asks me afterwards, “Do you hit your nose when you fall on the floor during White Room?” All in all it was a fairly conservative show for us - which often happens when we are in places where the audience doesn't know us at all. Fans in the audience help cue them in at lot of the time. And it bears repeating that being a Bob is quite an awesome way to spend my life, whether an audience goes nuts for us or not. It's a privilege. But they always go nuts at the end of WHITE ROOM. Unless they're UNDEAD. : )

It's a serious party at the Holiday Inn in Swedesboro, where we're staying... but we're pooped. I fall madly into sleep and dream that someone I knew here long ago who isn't a friend anymore is a true friend again. When dreams feel so intensely real, they can leave you hopeful, which is truly unfair. What do you do with that feeling?

Saturday 12/6/08 - Delmarva-lous Hampton Vibes

There are 18 Starbucks stores in Delaware, according to Urban Spoon (thank you, Richard's iPhone). But as we tango down Route 13 (opting to forego the I-95 corridor just this once) on the Delmarva Peninsula, we are nowhere near them. Then suddenly these huge vegetables appear, with a Starbucks behind them. Is there a connection? No. Seriously. No connection.

Wrote down some thoughts about some stuff on Route 13 while we drove down the Delmarva: "New Condo Development in a Farmette Setting!" (what the hell-ette is that?), billboards touting Joe Biden, "Christmas Drive-Thru December 8-10," "Living Bread Worship Center" (Night of the Living Bread?). As endless stripmalls give way to an Iowa-like vibe, I wonder what Route 13 looked like before it was paved. Before the railroad (we see Santa board a train in the north and crowds assembled around it a few miles south). I read a book called Twinkie, Deconstructed in which author Steve Ettlinger said that certain Mid-Atlantic Valleys and the Delmarva Peninsula are Meccas of the specific cake flour used in Twinkies and other... delicacies. (The book is about a 60% interesting read, BTW.) I wonder if the contents of the large fields we're passing now will end up in uber-processed foods some day... 150 miles to Norfolk.

I am driving now, and I am unmistakably anxious to see the sea, winding past the endless farms and turnoffs whose names hint of the Chesapeake Bay. Dan and I are acting like we're 13 (and stoopid) citing local town names (Onancock, Assateague, etc.)... It's like driving on Cape Cod - you can smell the ocean. I am jittery, yearning to break free of the land, to see what is shaping the air here. I call friends who moved to Delaware from Los Angeles years ago… they're not home, and what weird, spacey message would I leave on their machine feeling like this... and suddenly we hit the amazing Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel. Vague snapshot memories pop up - I drove across this with my grandparents in 70’s, soon after it was completed. It was a big deal then... 22 miles long and super gorgeous as dramatic clouds cross the bay and a freighter appears to cross through the bridge ahead of us (actually it's passing over the tunnel section)... Oddly enough, GoogleMaps was right - this route took us the same amount of time as the endless, toll-ridden, boring I-95/offshoots of I-95 would have done. We're glad to have done this, even if we had to go a little slower.

Our images are plastered on the front of the American Theater … and it strikes me once again as Super Cool and Kind of Weird that our likenesses are, at this moment, displayed in towns we've never been to or have spent little time in, where people probably do not know us personally. I'm sure movie stars are immune to this feeling, but it always kind of tickles me...

But this time the tickling turns out to be on my neck. When I change my clothes for the show, I discover that I have what must be...bedbug bites! I read that people get these in hotels more frequently than you might imagine, and it grossed me out since I am in so many hotel rooms. Guess it was bound to happen at some point. Damn you, Southern New Jersey!

A marvelous fish & chips/salad/dirty rice balls/cheesecakes dinner from Market 20 precedes a great show. Liza (the theatre kitty) and I bond in the box office. Artistic Director Michael Curry tells us our show was great for the theater - "so many young people!" he said... and although he speaks of the local symphony being on the brink of ruin, like many arts professionals, Michael is hopeful about “things starting to turn ‘round in January.” AMEN!!!!

It's a party back at the Hilton, near the Coliseum... but again the no free wifi in super nice digs irony rears its head… And I can't get into Facebook on the hotel's Business Center PC! I am kind of paranoid about the bed now ... even though I know the bites came from Swedesboro...whatever...

Sunday 12/7/08 - Germantown: Surprisingly Spicy

I think I could live happily without ever going down the I-95 corridor again… but now as we pass Baltimore all I can think of is THE WIRE - watch it, people - as I look for the Pemlico Terminal.... We reach the Marriott in Gathersburg, lovely except for the no free wifi thing AGAIN, so I end up stealing it from another network... don't they know about that? It's getting VERY cold out... Matthew says it's going down to 20 tonight... yikes...

Germantown's gorgeous Blackrock Center for the Arts is like a mini-performing arts center. We did the holiday show here once before and it's great to be back! I remember the British soundguy, who is awesome... After soundcheck I duck out for dinner with my friend Jeff and his family @ Ruby Tuesday. Jeff was the instructor of the Digital Performer class I took at UCLA extension a few years ago. Turned out he was a Bobs fan. Their daughters are doing community theater – the tales of latenight tech weeks bring back serious memories of my own misspent youth... We also talk about their cats (including IKEA-found Hazl) and I promise a cat song later… little do I know I'll double that promise.

Mark, the jolly production manager, announces us on a mike offstage, standing right in front of us (what if we tickled him?) and we kick off a raucous show during which the kids sitting front and center become... antsy. At one point in the second half, one is taken outside by their mom, only to return and then burst in tears. Her parents say "She's crying because she missed FLUFFY while she was outside." So we do it AGAIN. You won't get that at any other concert, I guarantee!

Richard pimps the last copy of his solo CD (which he sells, but later confesses to having another boxload in Virginia)… the FLUFFY girl (Fiona) tackles me at the merch table, screaming with joy, and her parents stock up seriously on Bobs CDs for holiday gifts. Her mom Michelle tells me that the girls love to watch the DVD of us and try to imitate me, Lori and Janie all the time. (There's that weird, tickly feeling again...) At a reception for center donors, we are greeted by champagne, evil, chocolate-covered holiday pastries, and a post-show Bach duet request (e-mail me next time BEFORE the show!). On the way home, I ask Matthew and Richard how we're supposed to know what people think of "Bus Plunge." It's so completely weird, both on the record and in the show. Matthew says, "You won't know. That's the beauty of it." WHAT?!?!

Monday 12/8/08 - "Day Off"

9am -1:45pm we're in the car, from Gaithersburg, MD to La Guardia Airport, where we drop the car and cab into the city. With one-way rental drop charges so high, it actually made sense for us to do a roundtrip from LGA and get ANOTHER car tomorrow which we will drop at Logan Airport in Boston later... The siren call of Pizza zaps me and my friend (and host for one night) Shaynee... And I'm back out again on our "day off." Later on we'll have an amazing dinner @ a Turkish Restaurant on 72nd and discuss the Young Actor's Camp at which I'll be teaching a master class later this month.

Our second Sirius Comedy Radio Special is as raucous and fun as the first with host Mark ("Mark Says Hi")Seman. Mark tells us that we are the only live people (in terms of conversation, not standup) broadcasted on Channel 105 (LAUGH USA), which is pretty darned cool. They've been playing tracks from Get Your Monkey Off My Dog about 15 times a week since we first visited Sirius in June, especially "Tight Pants Tango," which is also pretty great. Oddly enough, we pre-tape in the Catholic Channel's studio, attempting to not riff on it. The special is already scheduled to air on specific dates, so we sing and tape some promos for it afterwards. During the session, when Mark asks us what our least favorite radio interview thing is, we say “when hosts don’t know us at all and haven’t prepared.”

...which is exactly what happens at The Joey Reynolds Show on WOR despite our having send 2 band bios and 2 cds ("lost"). It strikes me as very odd since our Assistant Brynne, told us these folks contacted US for the interview, not vice versa. You can hear the podcast here. But we had a good time, it’s national/syndicated and after all, they pretaped for us, etc. Still it is kind of strange to walk into a solicited interview and be asked to explain who we were, don't you think? Matthew and I walk to the subway around midnight through a deserted Wall Street. It's freezing, and gorgeous.

Tuesday 12/9/08 - Rocking the Iron Horse

I get a meowy kitty awakening at Shaynee's place before meeting the potential CONTACT creative team's lawyer near the midtown Sheraton, memories of APAP conferences dancing in my head. It's slightly less freezing out. I bring home 72nd St bagels for myself and Shaynee (must leave New Carb City) before being picked up for the brief drive to Northampton, Mass. We pull off of I-91 (again, very familiar territory) and the signs for the Clarion we pricelined lead us to what used to be the Northampton Inn, and my hopes that they've gutted and refurbished the musty old place are dashed... ah well.

Our 7pm show is very jolly indeed… and packed to the rafters on a TUESDAY night. We premiere the "Coffee Song," a Sinatra tune Matthew recently found, and I get the best reaction yet to "How Did This Thing Get In Me?", my Immaculate Conception Investigation Tune. Dan morphs his snort laughing into a Schwarzenegger impression, we swap mics and I become Ahnold, I give a Rachel Maddow shoutout (the MS in MSNBC), and we thank the great staff here at the Iron Horse, where The Bobs have been playing for over 25 years.

Atomic Bobs fan Jeff Loonin sports his homemade 25th Anniversary shirt (see R). Funniest Thing Heard at the Merch Table: new fans young and old say they “couldn’t believe they liked it.” HA! Welp, you'd probably have to drag ME to an a cappella show too if I didn't know how good the group was... Back at the Clarion, now more populated, I fill out the survey card, bwah hah hah. "No hot water and strange stains on the curtains... " Kids, for every Courtyard you stay in on a tour, there's one of these places. Kato Kaelin is on CNN since O.J. was just sentenced in the Vegas case. I ran into Kato Kaelin on a porch in Hollywood when leaving a Comedy Central party last year. I have the same reaction now: OMFG!

Wednesday 12/10/08 - A New Buryport

Richard, Matthew and I enjoy a great breakfast @ The Green Bean in downtown Northampton, and it's something like 60 degrees today... a short, rainy drive to the next hotel in Re-veee-uh and it looks like we've stayed at this Courtyard, too. It gets dark out quickly... and we head to the cool little Firehouse Center for the Arts in Newburyport, brought to us courtesy of ex-BATTBOB (booking agent to the Bobs) Pamela Perkins (see the Salem entry in the April 2007 Bobtale,Most Roads Lead North). They bring in a great dinner in from next door (which we regret eating a little too soon before the show… I will not go into detail, but if you are reading this, you have most likely, albeit, unknowingly seen us do one of those shows!) Amy Malkoff of All About Buford comes to visit early, and we hang in the dressing room with my ole pal, bassist Jim Gregoire and rap about her possible impending move to L.A. (My advice: "Don't do it unless you absolutely have to.") Newburyportians? Porters? Regardless, they love the show. Thanks to all youse in Boston who made the drive, too! And this would be a lovely little stop for us again...

After the show, friends abound! Uri, toting some more Best Friends Cocoa for all of us (sugarless for me!), who also takes the time to lecture me on the difference between hot cocoa and hot chocolate (go to the site to read all about it!), uberfans Glenn Kane and his wife (who previously gave me the Rhode Island state postcard I needed to complete my geeky collection), erstwhile tour tech Wren Leader*, and a guy holding a copy of THE BOBS, the vinyl LP he brought for us to sign. This is ALWAYS SUPER COOL.

Since I know I'll be up late anyway, I volunteer to return the rental car to Logan and shuttle back to the hotel so we can all just shuttle to Logan at 6am. The shuttle driver tells me she “doesn’t fly... If I can’t drive there, I’m not going.” I can't decide if she's foolish or wise. And I REALLY can’t believe I will be back downstairs in this lobby @ 5:45am… that's about 5 hours away.

*Wren recently sent me an email with what I can only call Best Subject Line Ever that References My Solo Album - "No, thank YOU for the albatross." You must hear my album to find that funny. So go buy it here!.

TO GO TO LOGAN AIRPORT WITH THE BOBS AT 6:00 a.m. AND ON TO CHICAGO, LA, SEATTLE, ETC. CLICK HERE!

(C)2008 Amy Bob Engelhardt