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:::::: 06.17.03: cargo drop ::::::
I woke up in jackson hole, wyoming, land of ceaseless and senseless sky. the sun was whooping and the ponies were corralled. we were at some kind of highway side dude ranch, with life size statues of bear families frolicking all over the premises. we had to let our bus driver sleep, so we wandered around abandoned ski lifts and stared at the horizon the way settlers did when they were looking for home. how did they decide to stay in a specific place among the vastnes of raw land and possibility when travelling over infinite frontier? this was one of those places where you get a glimpse into the lonesome soul of early america. its difficult to imagine the state of mind. the remoteness and austerity would seem almost unamerican now. it probably felt more like rural bulgaria than wyoming.

we saddled up for the long drive to boise. our show was at the bank of america center, a sports facility. it went off pretty hard. boise was kicking some ronald mcdonald beats. aftewards, people came up to tell us the show was interesting or they'd never seen anything like it, which I found hard to believe in this 2003 day and age. if its time for a cargo drop of life jackets and phonebooks, call us up anytime.

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