I am in San Francisco doing a corporate show for the night. It is easier to make the six hour drive than a one hour flight. By the time you dress and pack for the TSA, drive to the airport, park and wait for a plane that is almost always late to and from San Francisco I can be across the Bay Bridge from interstate 5. The drive is quite boring and makes for easy soulful self examination.

I am staying at a hotel that is not my venue. The actual venue is The Four Seasons. It is very expensive, and on this gig I did not negotiate a hotel room. I am playing catch up on all the work I truned down for London. Got any kids bithday parties that need a ventriloquist?

So I am at a Hotel a few blocks away called the Chancelor. I was calling it the Chandler until I checked in. This hotel was the favorite of Raymond Chandler who stayed here and wrote here often. They have refurbushed his actual room and rent it out at twice the going rate. I guess it is for people who wish to contact the imaginary spirit of Phillip Marlowe. I wasn't looking for spirits I just needed a room for for the night so I could get a "Big Sleep" (literary pun intended for Chandler fans).

I was doing a little introspection of my life on the drive in. This trip reminds me of my college days when I would drive from Dallas to Houston for shows. That is a little shorter drive, 4 hours rather than 6. I never got to negotiate a room on those deals, and they paid less than a tenth of what I get now. In fact I was on such a strick budget I would not even get a room. I would time the drive so I got there just in time for the show and drive back afterwards. Eight hours on the road for a 40 minute show. I remember making some very sleepy drives back to Dallas.

I would get back about two AM so I could get up and make it to class. Often I changed clothes at the apartment of one of my Houston friends but couldn't spend the night. I still had to get back to class the next day. It was hard not to get involved in the parties that were a constantly going on at those apartments in those days. Especially since a girl I really liked at the time lived next door.

I do remember once, after my show I came back by the apartment to change into driving clothes. My buds were watching The Wizard of Oz on television. This is the day before DVD's when you couldn't pick your own time to watch a favorite movie. It had just started and I love that film. I got involved and I stayed until Dorothy made it back to Kansas, before driving back. Very irresponsible given that my class the next morning was Statistics. But I ultimately made a B in the class and it is a great memory now.

So in an hour or so I will head over to the Four Seasons for a sound check. Wait around for my turn on stage, do my best and stay the night rather than make a mad dash home. Some things change, but most remain the same. At least I have grown up enough to know that driving back tonight is not worth the money I would save.
As you were,
Jay