The Golden Triangle

So named because it is situated at the confluence of 3 rivers, The Allegheny, The Monongahela, and The Ohio, downtown Pittsburgh is maybe one of the most hellish places on Earth. I never thought that I'd be glad to be in Columbus. I've missed Ohio. Seems like it's been days since we were in Cleveland, which is inexplicably overun by giant guitars.
















We played the House of Blues, which is a franchise so nothing magical, but things tend to run pretty smoothly. I had lots of time to do very little. I spent several hours downloading porn which for one reason or another looks pretty interesting on twelve video screens scattered across a stage. It's really all about how skin or sometimes a face will pop up on a screen here or there, although I spend a good deal of time trying to edit out 3 foot dildos and things of that nature. Let it never be said that my job is dull.















Speaking of dull, the show last night was a bit like listening to a transistor radio in the reference section of a library. Very quiet, and devoid of energy.















One of the many joys of having dogs on tour. The other is that you cannot open a door anywhere without fear of one of those little freaks escaping.














Sometimes you just have to call them as you see them.














And again. Flap.














Last night was a brief moment of wonder in the lives of a bunch of guys who spend their days at the circus and their nights on a shitty bus: the famed 2am slightly intoxicated Wal Mart stop. It all comes at you so quickly, and in a flash you are in the parking lot with a bag full of slippers, neosporin, a dvd about Hitler, 2 decoy doves, a pink bandana, some crazy glue and a ratchet set. And that was pretty tame.















The further into middle America you go, the more expansive the hunting and fishing departments become. Much to our delight.















This is Harley rather actively trying to sell our tour bus to the cashier. When I walked past I heard him say 'did I mention that it sleeps twelve?'















Decoy dove. $1.88. Worth every penny.














You never can be too sure.
















Today, as I said, we are in Columbus at a venue that doubles as either an indoor or outdoor stage. I was here last winter (my sister and her pals drove out from Oberlin), and we tried to convince the band that they would be playing outside in 35 degree weather. Today it is 74 degrees and sunny.















The band turned up, and it became cloudy with a 50% chance of rain.
















A necessary addition to any flying V: a hand taped sign reading simply 'breasts.' A brief metaphysical treatise on gender roles or merely a suggestion?
















This time tomorrow...I'll still be here.