I am just waking up in a motel room in Boise, Idaho…the land of potatoes. After spending the past two days in my vehicle traveling through, and sometimes over, the Rocky Mountains, I decided to to make this state my “Idahome” for a day.  I got a room at the Rodeway Inn just off of Route 84.

Boulder is an incredible place that is occupied by incredible people.  The glass is not half full in Boulder, it is overflowing.  Many transplants.  People that are in search for a slower pace to life find themselves in Boulder.  It seemed as though people are socially advanced in Boulder, they avoid small talk.  I love that.  They talk to you as if they want to, not because they feel they have to. The beer was fantastic at the Draft House and the shows went really well.  The first show I played at the Laughing Goat coffeehouse was a ton of fun.  A bunch of friends came out to support me and I can not thank them all enough.  Kyle and Lins, it was really great to see you guys!  The greatest part of this journey has been reconnecting with old friends and meeting new ones.  I have seen so many of my old friends along the way, it is incredible.  I have to say thank you to Taylor Brown for letting me open for him, he was great.  The second show was at Rock n Soul Cafe, a cool little place that is built for acoustic music.  I look forward to playing there again soon, it seemed as though the place was filled with music lovers and vegans.  Thank you so much Boulder…I had a blast.

The trip from Boulder to Idaho was a bit of a rough one.  The weather has been quite outrageous the past couple weeks on the high plains, equipped with buckets of rain, lightning shows, tornadoes, golf ball sized hail, and massive storm clouds.  When you are traveling at an altitude close to 9,500 feet, at certain times, you feel like you are pretty damn close to the clouds.  I have spent the past two days mentally preparing for the likely event of a funnel cloud touching down in front of me.  I am just waiting to see a dairy cow get flown across the highway, just like the movies.  But with all of that being said, I made it and the sun is now burning bright.

The Rodeway Inn is nice, relatively speaking.  When I checked in I noticed a sign that said they have family style dinners available for only $6.95 so I took advantage of that last night.  I had sweet and sour chicken with rice and corn, it felt great to get a home-cooked (or atleast what seemed like home-cooked) meal in my system.

I have roughly six hours of travel left to do this afternoon so I can reach my destination. I am really excited to get to Portland so I can visit my Brother Ryan and my Sister-In-Law Lee.  Ryan and Lee moved to Portland about three years ago, I think, and they love it out there.  I have been out to visit a few times and it is beautiful, if you can get over the whole weather thing.  My Brother Ryan has always enjoyed living in different areas of the country and he has an unbelievable skill for meeting people because of it.  I am jealous of his ability to move into a town and make twenty friends the first night.  He is socially gifted.  He really values relationships, which in my opinion is what life is all about.  Ryan and Lee have recently purchased a new home and they have been restoring it over the past year or so.  I am looking forward to seeing their new home because, I know my Brother, he will certainly have a nice bar area set up.

I am playing four shows while out in Portland and we are going to take in a David Byrne show on Wednesday.  I can’t wait to play Portland, singer/songwriters are embraced in the land of roses.  Both times I have visited Ryan I have been blown away by the communities attention to the arts.  I think it is important for a community to recognize local artists (musicians, painters, photographers, poets, writers, etc…).  Here I come Portland!

As I was traveling through the extremely rural and incredibly flat western portion of Kansas, I began to notice handmade signs advertising the “World’s Largest Prairie Dog” propped up along route 70. The signs started appearing every two or three miles and, to be honest, I wasn’t interested at all in stopping to see this hoax. But as I continued on my way, and saw more and more of these hand painted signs for miles and miles, it started to intrigue me a bit. I suddenly started to look forward to the exit, not because I wanted to see the Prairie Dog, but because I wanted to meet the man that was behind this fully committed guerilla marketing plan.

I pulled off the exit and into a small parking area in front of a double wide trailer. There was a small cardboard “enter” sign hung above a life-sized sculpture of a Native American that was guarding the door. I slowly opened the door to a nice gift shop with snakeskin purses, dead insect necklaces, and leather wallets. I bought a sticker that reads, “I am happier than a carp in a septic tank.” As I approached the counter a small older man wearing a tie dye wolf tee shirt spoke up loudly and yelled, “You are here just in time…we have a six legged cow, fifty live rattlesnakes, and the world’s largest prairie dog, it’s over 20,000 pounds!” I gave him $6.25 and he directed me to a door near the rear of the trailer. On my way to the door I noticed a cage filled with, sure enough, fifty live rattlesnakes that he had captured over the years. I passed through the doors out into the back yard, which happened to be a live prairie dog town. They were everywhere and they are extremely cool little creatures. There were cages surrounding the perimeter of the property that in total was about half an acre. I finally made my way to the cow’s and almost threw up when I saw the six legged one. The old man wasn’t lying, the cow had a full leg coming off of the back of its neck! A disgusting deformity, it made my stomach hurt. I quickly continued on the tour and finally came to the world’s largest prairie dog. It was carved out of wood and stood about twenty feet tall…there’s the hoax.

I went back in and thanked the man for letting me check out his “stuff” and he asked me where I was heading. I told him I am a traveling musician on my way to Denver. He said, “Oh great, you are about four hours away. We just had the famous band Widespread Panic take the tour not too long ago. They loved it.” I got back in my truck and headed left. I giggled for a couple of miles recalling the experience.

I woke up yesterday in a small motel room somewhere just west of Limon, CO. I awoke early due to the excitement in my bones. I grabbed yet another cup of coffee and continued my journey west toward the front range. I watched as the mountains slowly faded into view. I was almost there. I drove past my old house in Denver and ate at one of my favorite diners…the Moonlight Diner on Tower Road. I had steak and poached eggs. After breakfast, I got in my car and decided it would be a good idea to take a hike before noon. I headed out west to Golden, Colorado and set my sights on Table Mountain, located right next to the Coors Brewery. It was a very relaxing hike. As I stood at the crest watching the birds fly below me, I had a large wave of freedom overcome me. I was officially in Colorado now.

I half jogged my way down the trail and decided that I should probably get an afternoon beer in my system to celebrate my return. I decided to check out Illegal Pete’s on Pearl Street in Boulder. A trendy little Mexican joint with great draft beer, Fat Tire Amber Ale was on tap. A good friend of mine sent me a text message and alerted me of a concert that was going on at Red Rocks that night. I couldn’t believe it…Levon Helm and John Prine!!!!! TWO OF MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE MUSICIANS AND PERSONALITIES OF ALL TIME PLAYING TOGETHER AT MY FAVORITE MUSIC VENUE OF ALL TIME. I slammed my beer and made my way to Morrison, CO, bought tickets to the show, and climbed my way into the natural built amphitheater. I was about to see two legends and two historic musical figures in the same night. I was pumped to say the least. Levon made his way out on stage and opened the show by singing the song I have seen him sing a million times on “The Last Waltz” but never live and in person, “OPHELIA”. He rocked. Always smiling and still utilizing his great vocal harmonies. His daughter sang and played drums with him on stage, it was great to see them have fun together. I am a sucker for family connections. He closed his set by inviting John Prine out on stage to sing a verse from “The Weight”…incredible. After bowing and waving good bye Levon strutted off the stage with a towel hung around his neck.

After a thirty minute break, John Prine took the stage. He is king in Colorado. He opened his set with “Spanish Pipedream” and the crowd exploded. He put on an amazing show. There was close to 8,000 people in attendance but when John was singing you couldn’t hear a soul. Only one soul could be heard, and it was up on stage. What a wordsmith. After seeing him perform there is no doubt in my mind that he is the best songwriter I have ever encountered. Some people may disagree but that is just my personal opinion. He writes songs that hit me deeper than anyone else. My kind of songs.

Thank you so much Levon and John. Truly inspiring.

There is not much going on here in western Oklahoma.  Yesterday I went to a water park that was completely surrounded by several stretches of highway, but that was about as exciting as it has been.  When I scheduled this tour, months ago, there were certain stops that I was really looking forward to.  As much as I like experiencing new things, sometimes revisiting beautiful places is necessary and equally as rewarding.  I am on the way to one of my favorite places in America…Boulder, CO.

When I was 11 years old, my older Brother Casey took me on a trip to Boulder.  At this point in my life I was not exactly well traveled, I think I had been out of New York State once to compete in a basketball free throw contest in Scranton, PA.  (I lost in the first round and came home the same day, what a vacation that was.) My Brother had a few friends in Boulder that he had met through his years of playing lacrosse so he called a few of them to see if we could crash with them while we were in town.  Looking back, I realize now that we were inviting ourselves.  When I was growing up I was a big fan of John Denver.  I liked what he sang about.  He sounded free.  He told good stories, often times using themes from nature as his foundation. You could almost smell pine needles when he sang. He wrote a song called “Poems, Prayers, And Promises” that remains one of my favorite songs of all time.  (I will post the lyrics.) I couldn’t help but think of John Denver as we climbed the front range of the Rocky Mountains in a red convertible driven by our very good friend and one of my favorite people in this world, DP.  It was like I was seeing, I mean actually visualizing, John Denver’s songs.  Strange feeling.  We finally reached the crest and slid down a narrow driveway belonging to a beautiful mountain home on the edge of a steep cliff.  We parked the car and suddenly I heard something that I had never heard before…the sound of nothing.  It was dead silence, it almost hurt my ears, it felt like I was twenty feet deep in the ocean.  We walked around the home to meet the owner, Rubin. Rubin owned, and still owns, a local catering company called “A Spice Of Life”. He was originally from central New York but he was different than any New Yorker I had ever seen. As we turned the corner I saw a man fast approaching with long curly hair down to the middle of his back and wearing a smile as big as the sea, it was Rubin.  You could tell right away that this young guy was cool.  His spirit radiated. My kind of a guy.  Although I had never met him before, he brought me in for a hug and said welcome to Colorado my young friend.  He turned quickly and almost sprinted into his house yelling, “Let’s play some great music and have a better time!”  For the first time in my life I felt like I was there, I was doing it, I was home.  You are so impressionable as a kid, at least I know I was, and when Rubin spun that first record I knew that I had found my new leader and my new religion…he played a “Song to Woody” by Bob Dylan.   I had heard Bob Dylan before, but not like this, I had only heard his popular songs that he had done with a full band.  On this record however, he was solo - he was pure - he was intensely original - he was hip - he was witty - he was funny - he seemed wise like he knew something the rest of us didn’t - he was…everything I wanted to be. I walked to the edge of the cliff with my eyes as big as quarters and gazed around the valley.  I didn’t see any houses, all I saw was the world.  The air seemed cleaner, the trees greener, and the sun more pure.  While my Brother, Rubin, and DP got drunk together I sat in a lawn chair and let them do their thing.  I was content with Colorado, my new best friend.  I remember just sitting there looking around, listening to every word Bob was yelling, and thinking and thinking and thinking until the needle ran out on the record.  Then I would go ask Rubin if I could play that record again.  He would say, ” You know Mikey, I got more Bob Dylan records”, and I would reply with complete honesty, “No that’s okay, I still like this one.” The three of them were probably sick of hearing the same record over and over again so they went out to the bars to have a few drinks, I told them I was happy to hold down the fort.  Before they left I asked Rubin if it was okay if I slept outside.  He laughed and said, “Go for it.”  I will never forget the night Bob Dylan sang me to sleep on the top of that mountain in Boulder.

We all have moments in are lives that will never be forgotten, monumental memories.  Some bad, some good, but never the less they influence us and our behavior.  We understand the magnitude of the moment while we are living it.  It is the most powerful feeling I have ever experienced…the feeling that you get when you know you are growing as a person and getting closer to becoming you.  In fact I have been having that feeling all summer long.  I am looking forward to my time in Boulder and my return to the wonderful state of Colorado.  Here is a song I wrote that is quite relevant to this post.

“In Colorado”

Idaho Springs has been callin’/those hot springs early in the mornin’/underneath the shades of the evergreens

I feel the steam and its wet like rain/feels like I ridin on a rollin train/a view that belongs in a magazine

I built a home in Colorado/its made of dreams that I chose to follow /waking up to the song of a swallow/singin on my sill/every view is a picture every road is a song/I weave through the mountains as their singin along/I finally feel like I belong and I always will…In Colorado

Breakfast in Boulder with some scrambled eggs/I don’t mind drivin but I’d rather use my legs/I feel much safer when I am on my own

The sax gets played by a man in dreads/a melody pure and he never begs/he’s not afraid to call this street his home

He says I built a home in Colorado/its made of dreams that I chose to follow/waking up to the song of a swallow/singin on my sill/every view is a picture every road is a song/I weave through the mountains as their singin along/I finally feel like I belong and I always will…In Colorado

Business man that counts the costs/Livin his life from his LoDo loft/calls in sick whenever the snow is good

Drive through Denver and I slow my speed/to play a show in Morrison in Rockies/Somehow I new I always would

I built a home in Colorado/its made of dreams that I chose to follow /waking up to the song of a swallow/singin on my sill/every view is a picture every road is a song/I weave through the mountains as their singin along/I finally feel like I belong and I always will…In Colorado