Goodland, Kansas

It is 1:09am in Goodland, Kansas.  Our bodies think it is 2:09am, and still I feel wide awake somehow.  I woke up in Topeka in a Super 8 motel roll away bed to the sounds of a little girl laughing down the hall and slapping each door she passed.  annoying.  In those foggy moments of sleep, I was certain she knew we'd gone to bed at nearly 3am and that she was laughing beyond the control of her mother just to spite me!  She'd slept forever and was thrilled!  And I was waking up tired, yet again.

I don't know how people do this for months at a time!   5 weeks is nothing in the grand scheme of touring life, but it every time it feels like I get slipped into some alternate reality.  With different rules. different norms. different needs. different habits.

It's a strange beast, and I love turning it over in mind and trying to figure out what its made of.

This has to be the tiniest and strangest of all the tiny, strange towns we've stayed in.  We are hours and hours from Topeka and haven't encountered another big town.

There is nothing here.

Empty grasslands, and a wide open sky stretch on to the horizon.  It is the beginnings of the west. And though it is sparse, and though the drive was pretty uneventful, I'm excited.  Western America has a piece of my heart.  

Kansas sunset.

There's nothing to do here, so we pulled into our hotel and took a little drive to scout out a dinner local.  The restaurant that got a 4.5 star yelp rating donned slightly unsettling white metal siding and an un-illuminated sign.  We stared through the windows and decided we'd rather not try our luck.  We would stick out like the sorest of thumbs.  And I don't think any of us had the patience or energy to be the unintended main event.  

So we drove past the grain silos to our only other options: Subway, Mc Donald's, and Dairy Queen.

(ashamed).

Somehow this has all been entertaining though.  We shared a bottle of Bullet Rye in our little motel room and talked and laughed and DJed, and discussed until we couldn't anymore.   

Boys.

If you were hoping for glamor, we aint got it.  Just some songs and whiskey and motel room nights to kill the time.  Denver tomorrow.  Pumped for another show.