Got up good and early today, thanks to little sister Leah, on Pacific Standard Time. Caught a cab to the airport. Nice cabbie. Little bit of chit chat on the way over. Ya just never know with those cats. Some guys, stone cold and dead silent. Maybe their english isn’t so good. Who knows. Others, they’ll yap yer ear off, and man, I’m always up for chattering.

“Did you pack the kitchen sink in there?! Ha…,” is the last thing the guy said to me as he hoisted my aluminum suitcase up onto the curb filled to the hilt with Field Notes, a wide array of cords for the mobile command unit, some reference books, some clean undergarments, the toiletries kit and a Wacom tablet. All the essentials, man. Just a hair over 50 pounds.

01. Flight to Minneapolis, packed in like sardines, sitting next to an older lady with waxy skin. Slept the whole way. On time, pretty much.

02. Flight to Detroit, with a seat open in between some German guy and myself. Sat on the tarmac for an hour before liftoff. Many grumbles. Read about the capture and death of John Wilkes Booth. Some sleep. Late as hell.

03. Flight down to Indianapolis, with the whole damn row to myself. Rainstorms. Foxhole prayers. Crossed fingers that my one piece of crucial luggage would be there waiting for me after such a wild day.

My suitcase was there in the Northwest oversize luggage zone, rode hard and wrapped in “Inspected by…” patriotic tape.

I hope the folks who checked out my goods took a couple sets of Field Notes. Hard to say.

Caught a shuttle to Big S, who was sitting there just as I left him. A sigh of relief. Settled up with a middle-aged mullet lady and got on the interstate, just long enough pull of and grab a room at a Motel 8. Questionable wireless speeds. An odd smell. Clean sheets, though.

A late hour. Fell asleep listening to the new Richmond Fontaine album.

Tomorrow we travel through “Cougar Country.” A wise man once said: “Don’t mess with the Coug.” Words to live by.

- - - -

REQUIRED VIEWING: From Christa Skinner, of Indianapolis descent: Beautiful, complex mechanical devices.

- - - -

From big, tall Lee, down on the beach: Pulp Fiction type play. (See the “Mistral” in there? Ha. It lives.)