August 2009
2 posts
Migrated west until I hit an ocean. From the bayou to Houston to Austin. Skipped the desert and hit a beach. Cold as all hell up the foothills. I-10 always the closest thing to a home I had. Until I ran out of mile markers and there’s only east to go.
“People. This is me again. I hate to cut things down like this. But, uh....”
– Bill Graham at Monterrey Pop during the Grateful Dead’s set.