In which it’s raining like hell, and me with only one windshield wiper.

The weather’s here, wish you were beautiful.

Oh, wait, you are beautiful! Well, it’s just started raining cats and dogs here and Truck and I are leaving in a few minutes to drive to Ottumwa for a gig. On the porch a few minutes ago he looked at the lowering sky, dubiously, and then at me, equally dubiously, and said, “Is my shit gonna get wet in your jeep?”

“Oh, no,” I replied. “Not wet at all. Just dusty! It’s got five years of gravel dust all up in it, but it doesn’t leak water anywhere.”

He narrowed his eyes, grumbled and went into the house, coming back out a few moments later with a baggie he put some guitar component or another into. He stuffed the item into his backpack, which was sitting on the porch next to the rest of his gear waiting to be loaded out, and went back inside for a shower.

Then the sky darkened, opened up, and started to pour. (It smells so good! Ozone!) Bghead took my keys and moved my jeep into the driveway for me, rolling the windows up in the process, and any minute now the virgin Connie Swayle Truck will be done with his post-shower primping and we’ll be ready to roll out.

The only water-related problem the jeep has is with the windshield wipers. Only one of them works. Fortunately it’s the driver’s wiper, but when it’s raining buckets visibility does become a problem. Worst case scenario: I pull over for a bit. Luckily we don’t absolutely have to be there on time, since we’re special guests.

Ciao, babies – I’m off to do the rock! Yay! I love gigging!