As expected, as expected, those Lips were wonder-full and loud and made me smile from dirty, pitted ear to dirty, pitted ear. We got all drunked up on house beer and shots and shit, and wobbled onto the floor, right into the heart of the deal. Laser pointers were distributed through the crowd, so, my retinas are now damaged after much frolic and abuse.

Their blistering version of, “Mountainside” was enough for me. That suckers goes back to 1990. So good.

Leigh had a grand time and had this to say, “I get it, I get it.”

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On the way back to the hotel we stopped off at Chubby’s Diner on Broadway there for some late night “soak up the poison food.” Survival, man, survival. Soaking up poison, with poison. Debatable.

A good time was had by all, and man, I love those Flaming Lips real hard.

Here’s what I love the most: You look around and people are smiling, and dancing, and hugging, and laughing, and wide-eyed and just…having a good time at the show. After so many years of painful, elbow-holding indie rock nightmare shows, these guys are just so refreshing to me. I am broken record.

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Early yesterday morning, passing through St. Louis, we decided to go up in that big arch and see the sights. We did just that and went all the way up in the thing, took a look around, snapped some shots and went back down. Just like that. Pretty awesome. Recommended, travelers.

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Bobby out in big city Los Angeles get his first order of Field Notes and gives ‘em a good review, along with some tasty photos. Many thanks, man.

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Jim Barraud loves his Field Notes, and love theirs details, and, well, hell, we love him. CRC Corner Rounding!

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And for all you badasses: Leigh and are getting real hard today and heading for Madison Country up in Iowa, to check out some covered bridges and whisper some sweet nothings and all that. Real hard like that. Maybe she’ll leave me in some little Iowa town, in the rain, driving away, crying…while I wither away quietly, unhappy and wondering “what if” for the next 53 years or something. Maybe not. We’ll keep you posted.

This is how I spend my fall: Getting real tough in backwoods Iowa, checking out covered bridges.

I loved that book, and that movie and cried my goddamn eyes out on both occasions, motherfuckers. Really.

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Oh yeah, some of this, too, pardner.