Katie is a cat lady. And a cat lady is a nemesis to the band, no matter how sweet, how generous, and how amiable a person is. The Ben’s will never fully accept a keeper of cats. Meow. We hate our allergies.
As we drive through Nebraska, I reflect on our time spent in Colorado. To quote Lera Lynn, “Colorado is possibly the worst climate for a South Eastern bred singer for two reasons. 1: It’s dry. 2. I can’t hold my whiskey.” To quote me, “I’m from Colorado, I love it here, please stop talking about the altitude.” One actual downside about Colorado, no Bank of America, which has led me to invent a game. It’s a race. First person to find out where I am, kill me and take my wallet wins way more cash than anyone should ever carry in a wallet, much less a child Velcro wallet.
Nebraska is a perfect state for pondering questions in ones head. Can my pin number be 5 numbers long? If so should I switch my pin to P-I-Z-Z-A? How much do stuntmen make a year? How far away can Chicago be? If someone killed me and took my wallet, how long until they guessed P-I-Z-Z-A? I wonder what Lera’s pin is.
You know what? Nebraska is pretty. We’re 82 miles from Kearny.
|My first burrito of the trip. Today I had the privilege to watch a man eat a burrito, and then begin and encore burrito! 10:40 AM. Fort Collins, Colorado.|