Adventure #88: Caldwell, ID and Sacramento, CA

“No, Nathan, we don't have time to stop at every abandoned building and take pictures.”

“But I wanna...”

“No! We're already running late and we've already stopped at 3 abandoned farm houses today.”

“But it's what I do! It's my thing. It's mine. It's...my precious...”

“Don't care. We don't have time.”

“Fine. [gollum] Asshole.”

This conversation was had out loud. After a few weeks on the road by yourself you start to turn into Gollum. This is Pen Pen stopping anyway.

 Driving alone without anyone to talk to through the mountains for 6 hours, 8 hours, 10 hours a day, and you start to understand that woman on the street who talks to herself. Just loudly enough so you know she knows you hear her. Just quietly enough that you're pretty sure it might be about you. I've often wondered what happened to get someone to that place. It turns out they were touring singer songwriters. All of them. Next time you see someone talking to themselves on the street, ask for a copy of their EP. The piano ballad; track 4? It's actually pretty solid. This is Pen Pen and another abandoned farm house.

New York Nathan barely tolerates whatever it is about him that makes people on the subway think “This guy! This guy with the headphones on, who is clearly focused on writing something in his notebook. This is the guy I should talk to!” But Touring Nathan? He revels in it. Oh? I remind you of your son? Your grandson? Your great grandson? Tell me more! Do you have pictures? You have a dog, too? Do you have pictures of your dog? (I kind of hate dogs, but I love listening to people talk about their dogs. They get so excited about the most mundane things and it's just great.) This is Pen Pen, this time at an abandoned stable!

The show in Caldwell is fun, but definitely small. But the conversation all night is great. And honestly, at this point in the tour, I'm more interested in having some human interaction than performing. Both is the sweet spot, obviously. But 3 weeks in and having driven some 5000 miles by myself? I'll gladly take a night of talking comparative religion and anarchism with some friends I don't get to see often. This is Pen Pen also liking abandoned cars!

Driving south through the mountains the next day to Sacramento is beautiful, but dull. A meaner person would make a joke about some of the people they've dated. I'm not that person. Neither is Pen Pen. He's a penguin, not a person. This is Pen Pen and his ex.

It's amazing the way trees appear almost the second I cross the Nevada-California border. After 8 hours staring at desert brush, trees are a welcome sight. It's as if they're adhering to some ancient treaty.

“OK, fine, California. You guys get all the trees, but we get all the casinos and whores.”

“That sounds like a fair trade, Nevada.”

“Then we declare these borders official!”

“Ha! I tricked you, Nevada, for we have Los Angeles, where young artists gamble their futures and whore themselves out to entertainment companies instead of making that super personal short film about their grandfather they've been talking about since they were kids! AND WE HAVE TREES.”

Nevada shakes it's fist angrily at the sky, for it knows it has been duped. This is Pen Pen and Nevada's famed tree (just kidding, this picture was taken in California; Nevada doesn't have trees, jackass)...

This is a song David Bowie wrote one time. I like this song.