03.17.07 Briefly From California
PEOPLE MESS WITH BRODY
Rental car people, specifically. He walks up to their counter looking all disheveled and mad-sceintist-ish and they think to themselves, “I can mess with this guy and he won’t notice.” But underneath that disheveledness is a man. A man with feelings. A man with me in his car. So, please, don’t ever rent Brody a purple Monte Carlo with black leather seats again...not when you know we’ll be driving through a desert. And not purple...just because Ever.
I DRANK THE LAWN
Brody is sharing every aspect of California living he can in the three days we’re in his home state. Beginning with Jamba Juice. Jamba Juice, Brody says, is “like, rad and like, just, like, good.” I concur. My Strawberries Wild fruit juice concoction was in fact “rad” and “good.” The “wheat grass shot” he purchased for me was like not, like, rad, or like, good. It was like, my, like lawn. Juiced. A juiced lawn. In a small two ounce cup. And it was, the sign said, the equivalent of five pounds of vegetables. And it tasted like it. It also said a “wheat grass shot” would remove traces of drugs in my system. You know, in case that’s something you’re in the market for: Something to remove drugs from your system. You can apparently get that now. At Jamba Juice. For only $2. If you can muscle through the gag reflex. In related news, I have gone potty more in the last twenty four hours than in any week of my life.
DESERTS ARE HOT
I’ve never seen a desert. Frozen Tundra? Yes. Forests? Sure. Snowy mountain ranges? Check. But no desert. I played in Palm Desert last night - an oxymoron I think. Palms, like most vegetation, I guess - I’m no botanist - need stuff like water. Deserts, by definition - again, I think, ‘cause I’m no desert, um, ologist either - don’t have a lot of that. It was 104 degrees fahrenheit. I saw a small child burst into flames. I swear. Stepped out from under the shade of a cactus and - BAM - smote by the desert sun. Good thing I was well hydrated at all times by an extra large Jamba Juice.
KIDS GOT SAVED
The good desert-dweilling, Jamba Juice lapping people of Palm Desert saved 21 kids from poverty last night. Small crowd. Big generosity. Thanks.
NEXT STOP
We’re in the Ontario airport at the moment. California, not Canada. And we’re heading to Reno, where another rental car guy will play a trick on Brody. We’ll drive some embarrassingly colored impractical vehicle to Susanville, where we’ll soft rock again tonight. See you there.
