Every now and again I get a, “How come you don’t talk about yer mom more on yer site?” from a concerned friend or colleague. Well, considering that my father is a complete animal, and, a good source of wild, wooly content, my mom’s subtle ways can be overshadowed, but never overloooked. My mom has class, and, I try to respect to her mellower ways.

Let’s get something straight, you ditchdiggers: She’s golden and I love her.

And to all the readers of this site: You better be thinking good thoughts about my mom, or, we’re gonna have problems. Really.

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Helped dad drag some leaves off the roof today, almost killing myself in the process. Rickety-ass ladder, jerry-rigged moulding/broom instrument to drag them off, whippin’ fall winds, and, my dad wobbling the ladder underneath me, as, that shit is “funny” to him. Goddammit.

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Getting ready for that final push west back to our lives in Oregon. Little bit sad about it. Little bt homesick for my home and books and stuff and backyard and all that. Plus, I miss people like Fred, Nakamoto, Kasshole, Lovejoy, Rod, Floyd, The Snowboard Mag dicks, George, and even Brad. Just a little. Really.

Lovejoy, that little humdinger—is flying out to Indianapolis, first class of course—to meet up with us for the final trip west. Hard to say which way we’ll go. I gotta be home by the 10th, so, that’s all we’ll be battling the whole way back. Well, that and lot lizards, train robbers, dust storms, knife fights and the occasional jackalope attack.

Roadtrips are the best deal going. It’ll be good to have Lovejoy’s skills and cunning in the co-pilot seat watching out for us. A brother.

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Listening to these guys a whole bunch the last couple weeks.