Another soul-healing night last night. We played incredibly well. Some nights are like that. Everything turns into magic without much effort. It feels like that often. Butch, David, and Jason kill me every night… solid gold lightning strike after lightning strike… they’re amazing. Anyway, I was spent… exhausted… like I’d just finished working a 15 hour shift… and it was time to get home… I’m always a little nervous driving at 2:30 or 3 in the morning… this is the bewitching hour, or the worst time to be out on the road when all the hounds are released from the bars and are sent home at the exact same time… it’s not the smartest time to be out cruising… sort of like Russian roulette…

After 25 minutes of driving, I was nearly home. The 405 freeway is like a ghost town at this hour from all the late night closures and road construction… all of the sudden, flashing red & blue lights hit my rear view mirror… and a couple police cars pulled me off the freeway into a deserted industrial part of town… with all my windows rolled down, both hands firmly gripping the steering wheel in plain view, the blinding bright spotlight hitting me in the back of the head, I could hear the footsteps of two officers approaching from both sides of my car… both maintaining a safe distance, like I was some kind of wanted fugitive…

After burning his flashlight in my face for a few seconds, and after fumbling for my license, and not being able to find my insurance card, the officer began his interrogation…

Policeman: Did you know you were weaving all over the place back there on the freeway… hitting both lines…
Me: No, sir. I’m sorry about that.
Policeman: Where are you coming from?
Me: Hollywood, sir. I’m heading home from work.
Policeman: What is your job?
Me: I’m a folksinger, sir.
[pause]
Policeman (handing back my license): You have a good night, take it easy.