The Living Rockumentary

Hello from Holiday Inn Select CleveLAND. After a long comfy ride in a jukebox on wheels we are winding down to Letterman and Vending Machine Snacks. Brian, Ken, and Lesa all had their mp3 machines working overtime on the ride and we listened to a shuffle of great music for most of the day.

Tour.

The instamatic superhero external thermometer that juts out of the roof of the minivan cabin sank down in one degree increments as the day passed. Now here we are in cleveLAND on the edge of a really great lake with winds whipping in the forties (and I don't mean large bottles of beer).

A short trip to the hotel bar found us downing three rock-tour-cocktails while the bored bartender repeated loudly all the things that she heard on the tv. She squawked like a parrot. But flew like a mailbox.

The vending machine is in the basement but it refuses to acknowledge dollar bills so if you don't have a fist full of quarters don't even bother with the elevator ride down. And by the way, the dollar twenty five waters from the ninth floor vend are insultingly little. Upon the surprise lack of heft of the bottle I exclaimed "I hate Cincinnati!".

Forgive me, Venus, sorry Johnny Fever, your C-cities are melting into one. I'm no geologist afterall.

See you tomorrow in Chicago, if we don't drive into a really great lake, we'll be on the radio at 3:00-ish. Tune in live at the website for WLUW (I don't know, just google-it, lazy bones).