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Waffle House visit number 3, 4, or 5, opinions vary, then we hit the road north on I-95, which Rob pointed out is both the heavy drug trafficking route (we’re pleased to make our modest contribution) and where Michael Jordan’s father was killed in a rest stop. Better a rest stop than a rest home, Mr. Jordan. We hit some heavy rain, Ford Exploder over the side in a ditch, then another vehicle. They’ve got ditches here. Paul talked to Judge Hinson in Texas today, who said just mail in the check, no personal checks, please. Wachovia Bank won’t do money orders or cashiers checks, even if you give them cash, unless you have an account (only then do they Wachovia you).

Pulled into Richmond, great old city, Confederate capital with old brick Lucky Strike factory and a very tall column with a Confederate General gazing out on a hill behind the club, Poe’s Pub. We had the privilege of setting up the P.A. and sound checking ourselves, so now we have no one to blame but Paul Marshall for how it sounds, which is good. A drive through decaying/gentrifying downtown Richmond to the Radisson, at bargain Southern prices. Then something sad happened. Shawn drove the Yukon with its unusually high Sears SV-20 roof rack luggage compartment down into the Radisson parking lot, shearing off the SV-20. We took our bags out of the SV-20, tossed the crippled unit behind the Radisson dumpster, drove to the gig at Poe’s Pub. About 20 enthusiastic fans, including some old hippies who knew all our songs. One 60’s vet is a geologist, says that there’s a maverick theory that subterranean bacteria is actually the source of oil, not fossil animal and sea life as the conventional theory says. This triggered a long oil supply crisis discussion among Paul L. and the geologist that the rest of the band widely avoided.
The show was pretty good, very enthusiastic audience, talking afterwards it was gratifying to see how dialed in people are to the music and lyrics.

Shawn and Paul L. walked up the hill to a Civil War Soldiers And Sailors monument, the mysterious column overlooking Poe’s Pub. 20,000 Confederate troops were housed in tents in what was the world’s largest temporary hospital. We didn’t see ghosts, but eerie shadows of the Confederate soldier floated in the fog high above, lit by the monument lights. Beautiful old brick houses and cobblestone streets. Packed up, back to the Radisson. —–