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Cedar City, Utah, Wednesday, July 12, 2005

Another Comfort Inn, serenaded by the Interstate. A cute young Mormon girl cuts a late night deal with the Hawks (not what you’re thinking). Every hotel in town is packed. There’s a Shakespeare Festival in town. She’ll give us a dirty room with one bed for $30 and a clean one with two beds for $60. Breakfast bar included. We’re tired enough to go for it. Is it a good deal or did we get scammed by one of Joseph’s Smith’s clever daughters? Only with time and consequence will we know for sure. As day breaks in Cedar City, UT it’s very hot, and the Hawks stir reluctantly in rooms 226 and 263, but it’s time to go. PL discovers dirty clothes from the last Hawks trip, festering in the side pouch of his duffel bag. Karl Rove is being re-cast as the dirty man he is, the media finding their courage and moral compass, a few years late for America’s status in the world, but better late than never. It’s time to pack the Suburban.

PL is haunted by the cosmic coincidence or Intelligent Design that allowed the Hawks to drive on empty through 40 miles of searing desert and run out of gas as we pulled into the perhaps chimeral gas outpost with one working pump. It’s too much, this convergence of deadly heat and cool salvation. There’s more to this. .