Well, anyway, it did come on in an hour or two. That was enough time to wash myself again and throw together a bag of stuff for Seattle. Went to the airport. flew out. Now, I had never seen such a tiny little plane before. Every other airliner I had been on had a '7' or two in its model number. It had PROPELLERS. Propellers! (How do you spell propellers?) Do you know what a big engine with a propeller on it sounds like when you're sitting four feet away from it? It sounds like a ten foot motorcycle with an entire deck of cards stuck into its spokes. Our pilot had an Austrian accent ("Hyuk hyuk! He talks like Ar-nold Schwartzenegger!" observed the man across the isle from me) I could see out the front window. Wow.

In Seattle, I met the band, we practiced together for the first time since we left Hawaii (meaning, when Kris left. November.) We should be able to get back into the scene without too much blood spilled. We went to the 'Musician's Friend' outlet, where I bought some studio headphones (the big, stupid-looking, Princess Lea kind (Sony MDR-7506)) and we asked the salespeople to show us lots of expensive synthesizer stuff. I think we now must purchase a "groove box". Now, I didn't go to sleep at all during this trip. In the paper was a big article about a jumbo jet exploding in a ball of flame after its front end cracks off, killing everyone on board. With that cheerful thought, I went off to the airport to catch my flight back. Tiny plane again. The pilot recited the safety exits litany in one breath, and we were off. And now I'm back. Hiya, Portland. Okay, I'm going to sleep now. I just can't maintain any sort of continuity at this point. Ramen.