35 in 40

I've bemoaned my interview skills before. In fact, I bemoaned them here no less than a week ago. But yesterday, sandwiched within our practice, we had a rather pleasant one. At no point did I mention my dreams of wizard acting; Dave refrained from (too many) inappropriate narcotics jokes; Peter only used one verbose aquatic metaphor; and Zach didn't stab anyone. In other words, it went well. Then, in one of those wonderful moments of synergy, we were asked how many shows we're playing on our next tour on the very same day I'd spent the afternoon counting and totaling them on my desk-top abacus.

"35 in 40," I said.

"What?!" demanded a bandmate who had not spent quality time with his Chinese counting machine.

"35 shows in 40 days," I repeated. Then we laughed. We laughed with the maniacal abandon of four guys who hadn't quite realized how loopy and malodorous they'd be by day thirty-two until three seconds earlier. We laughed because there was no other way to deal with that information except by guffawing it to the back of our minds. Days off? Overrated. Sanity? Boring. Tinnitus? Four orders please, sunny side up.

This time around, we're going to make a concerted effort to hit up tourist stops on the way. Either really good ones or famously cheesy ones, or anything anyone recommends (which, feel free to do now, although I will be soliciting your advice constantly from the road). Peter wants to go to the Corn Palace in one of the two Dakotas. I've mandated that we stop at the Thing in Arizona (or is it New Mexico?). The Corn Palace, is, well, aptly named. It's a Palace, surrounded by corn, which sells corn and shirts with corn puns* inside. The Thing is a gas station that sells bogus wrought iron figurines, has one of those Dairy Queens that smell like transmission fluid, and also has a cave where "The Thing" resides. What is The Thing? It's mystery, that's what. NO ONE KNOWS.** And, for a mere 75 cents, you can find out. I don't care if I have to go it alone while the other monsters eat their Blizzards and buy postcards that say "Arizona: It's a DRY heat" but I'm going. Know this. Anyway, any great roadside attractions should be forwarded on before August 15th, and will be both visited and greatly appreciated, so long as they're sort of on our way.

Yes, yes. It's three weeks away. And yes, yes: we haven't even posted all the dates (speaking of which: more next week). But sometimes, it's just fun to marinate in the idea of vacation. And yes, I realize this isn't really a vacation, it's a job, but when you can mistake the latter for the former, everything is going just swimmingly.

*They're probably corny....please don't hit me.

**If you do, please don't tell me. I want to be surprised while Patrick Stewart relaxes, outside, peeing coolant all over the parking lot.