Room 406, Baymont Inn & Suites, Conroe, TX

I cannot recommend the Baymont, to be perfectly honest.  Nor Conroe, now that I think about it.  In fact, I cannot recommend Texas in general. It is the asshole of America writ large. All that is the very worst of our American character blown up to hubristic, Wagnerian proportions.

Well, I've had better starts to trips....

Actually, a lot of people don't know that Texas briefly incarcerates all out-of-state visitors just to "...larn 'em not to start any funny business..." I think it's in their constitution.

Houston looms before us...

And we're going to drive right past it to an even MORE conservative place: Conroe. I swear, it always rains in Houston.

Let him out!

Don't know what this building in Covington is....

...but it's awesome.

In Jasper, IN, I had a view of the county jail. In Covington, I had a view of the Ohio River and the Great American Ball Park

Go figure. Off to Cincinnati Airport, which is -as you know- the only airport in a different state than the city it's named after.

Mama T's in Jasper, IN

I know Mama T. This meal was no Mama T's...     :(

Bowling Green, KY

I ate at the Shrine to the Square Burger last night. Pops, I garnered cheap applause by referencing your matriculation. They cheered you roundly. Love y'all!

Was going to get you one of these, Pop

...but they didn't have your size. Drove to Bowling Green and naturally hotel rooms weren't ready. So we stalled at a local super-giant flea market. Would rather have napped.

Landed in Nashville....

...driving to Bowling Green. Go, WKY!

Question, dear Mom....

I am off to Bowling Green tomorrow...not Lexington. Do you know, Mom, if pothos is a plant you can take cuttings and put them in water and start new plants? It's growing like crazy; wouldn't mind having more of them. Love you guys.

If it says Gold Star Chili...

...then it must be the Cincinnati airport. Last night's show was in Big Rapids, flew out of Grand Rapids way too early, now cooling heels and trying to get back to dc. Love you guys.

Today's tedious multi-hour drive features...

...driving through places like Erdmore. You can ask me where Erdmore is, but all you will get in return is a lengthy, immutable silence...

Somewhere in Michigan....

We performed in Saginaw this evening: a rowdy, rambunctious chock-full show at a big, beautiful old theater. But the charms of Saginaw itself escaped Jon and I, so we headed for the amusingly named Frankenmuth. Whose charms also escaped us.

We had hope, because Frankenmuth is famous --in an extraordinarily meager sort of way-- for the world's most renown Bavarian Chicken Feud. As the story goes, a German family with a complicated name that I can't be bothered to reproduce here developed a recipe for Bavarian Fried Chicken that garnered a following. Then the inevitable familial rift. Germans are very quarrelsome and cannot get along even with themselves, it seems. In a fit of pique, one limb of the family tree moved themselves across the street, created yet another over-sized Bavarian chicken palace and now the two factions glare at each across a 50 yard no-man's land, the air redolent with the baleful aroma of Bavarian chicken.

For let there be no mistake: Bavarian Fried Chicken is flat-out awful.  The breading is lumpen, morose, and bland....sort of like Germans themselves. The chicken seems to have been reverse-basted to remove all flavor, and the side dishes strained to compete for the epitome of starchy tastelessness; excepting the stuffing, which we suspected had been soaked in Bain de Soleil for some reason. We pushed things listlessly around on our plates for a while and dolefully regarded the authentically-garbed accordionist that wandered between the tables. Even his teenage shame and humiliation could not recompense us for this dreary repast.  Moral, I guess: don't eat German food. Erica was right. 

Also, I got a picture of Jon doing this:

My bed at the luxurious, jungly, Davenport...

...actually has a mirror for a headboard. So all night I kept seeing myself tossing and turning in my peripheral vision and scaring the crap out of myself. Off to Michigan!

It's a jungle in Spokane

At least it is in room 873 of the schmancy Davenport Towers hotel.

And so the busy season begins...

Off to Spokane, except -oops- Frontier Airlines computers don't work. An inauspicious beginning.

State College, PA

Did a show at Penn State University yesterday. Actually, did two.  Nice crowds. Tragically, the mini-SD card for my phone slipped out of its loose slot (does that make my phone a ho'?) and I have just discovered that the lack thereof renders many of my phone's functions inert.  The camera, for example.  So, until I get another one, I will once again have to use substitute pictures garnered randomly from the web.

Since I could not take a picture of the hole in the ground (and hopefully rusty protruding bolts) where Joe Paterno's statue used to be, I will have to settle for this visual representation of a child's experience of Penn State.