March 27th, 2007.

Then we encounter BIIIIIIG cactuses! What’s weird (and worrisome) is that most all of them are sort of clawed up at the bottom, and I have NO IDEAD what kind of beastie is willing to take a mouthful of nedles for the dubious nutirtional content of a cactus.

As we were leaving Phoenix, we spotted a rare and crazy-looking phenomenom… our friend Alex (from our FIRST California) identified it as a “dust devil”, shooting dirt high into the sky.

Los Angeles. What an interesting creature.

I’d been out to the LA area a number of times on business while I was working at Glovia, making buttons, making code, but I’d never REALLY seen Los Angeles. We’ve spent the last couple of days dancing on the edge of Hollywood – almost but not quite visiting all those places that would probably be much better known to me if the only tabloid headlines I read weren’t about aliens and bigfoot. I kept having to ask “is that famous?” so I knew what to take pictures of.

Stepping out of the car, we’re looking for two suns. (Instead we just got to the trailer-back convenience store parked on the dunes)

A shock as we’re crossing over from Arizona to California. Genuine desert!

Sunday we actually played in San Diego to hit up our third corner of the U.S. (one left – Seattle). We stayed with a friend of my brother’s, a woman that I met at his wedding who apparently he was trying to hook me up with. She is one of my favourite, favourite people but she met some Australian, and in the game of Love, Australian beats rockstar every time.

After playing the open mic at Hot Java Cafe and making a whole lot more connections than I’d expected to (we met some really cool people, and heard a fantastic tribute-to-the-Grateful Dead kind of song) we retired to a Lovely San Diegan apartment where we stayed up far later than was good for any of us talking about art and music and inspiration and age. I had songs stuck in my head as I went to bed and I’m hopeful that some will find their way to my mouth and fingers before too long.

On the outskirts of San Diego, all of the mountains have this bizarre pulverized look to them. I have no idea what caused it, but if anything stands up and asks to fight Tim Allen, we figured we’d let it.

Monday was such a nice, short drive. Los Angeles was not nearly as intimidating as I’d expected it to be, and no small part of that came from the fact that we have a good number of friends out there. Amanda (an old-school Jahva Housian) and Pointy (one of our CD sponsors for the Fifth Circle) were both out there and came with us to check out the Rainbow Bar and Grill’s open mic.

Hot Rod and “Doktor” Dave Sawyer playing at Hot Java Cafe in San Diego, California. For our first experience playing in the state it was a pretty good one, with a lot of other good musicians and really friendly people. There are so many towns that we’re not able to give their due because of our hurried schedule – but the connections we’re making make a return trip really promising.

After reading reviews of the place online, plus or minus the Wikepedia entries and it’s reputation as one of THE hotspots of the 80’s rocker scene, I don’t know that I would’ve bothered to go if we weren’t booked there the next night. A lot of the reviews of the open mic complain about the stage set-up and the audience and the comedians – but in the spirit of advertisement and of knowing what the HELL we were getting into, we showed up early, signed up and asked where the music was…

Yup. There it is. Kind of teeny if you’re not going to visit it, but we eventually found a good vantage point where we could stop at a convenient red light and admire those glistening letters that used to mean fortune and fame and now smack of tabloid sensationalism and Mary Hart’s never-aging voice.

We were pointed to a hole. Like – the whole place is sort of built like the interior of an old sailing ship, and judging from the fish tanks, a ship that has sunk in excitingly tropical waters. You climb up into the dark and hidden upstairs bar and the theme of old wood and corroded brass continues, and in this tiny room you are pointed to a stranger little room mostly hidden away and completely shrouded in darkness… and THAT is where the musicians play.

The Rainbow Bar and Grill next door to the Roxy on THE Sunset Boulevard in THE Hollywood. Rather than the one in Maryland that I used to Live in, though the Sunset Strip IS remarkably similar to route 1 back home in College Park.

Our friend Amanda at the Rainbow in Hollywood, CA Lives out in LA now and supported us on our musical misadventures despite a steadily growing sore throat.

The open mic was an interesting night. An almost 50/50 mix of musicians and comedians – which is generally something to dread – but for the first time in about BILLION open mics, there were funny comedians. Not all, to be sure, but there were two guys that actually made me happy, and not wanting to kills one’s self is an ideal way in which to approach one’s set.

We set forth to rock the house, and did so… and though I still wasn’t sure what to make of the venue, a good time was had. – introduced to Del Taco. It’s aight. Curious about Fatburger.