I drove up to Dayton to catch my flight at 8-something am. The flight left on time (maybe I should have been on the plane?). I tried to sleep on the way to Dallas but most of the bags in cargo were the hardshell kind and I couldn't find any pillows by the landing gear. The second leg of the flight to San Diego proved interesting as California was on fire. I took photos of the wildfires burning away, casting monstrous plumes of smoke into the sky (one of them looked like Satan eating a banana). There had been so much burning that it seemed like the entire sky was hazy. Seeing the plane land so close to the wildfires was eerie. I've never played while on fire before...it could be a challenge! The minute I was walking toward the baggage claim area, Richard called me on the phone (how did he get my number?!?). Everyone else was already there. I loaded my things into the stolen van and we took off to find (a bank and some ski masks) the hotel and check in. We stayed at a Quantity Inn which was pretty clean if you don't count the dead hooker under the mattress. We ate food (drank) at some place (skipped out on the bill) and talked a bit about how to tune bagpipes and if it was even possible and various theories surrounding this hot topic. The group decided to drive over to the site, check in with The Boss, and get some rehearsal (drinking) time in. Unfortunately, Richard forgot to bring his pipes and underwear. Fortunately The Boss had some spare underwear so the rehearsal went off without any further hitches. The organizers had been evacuated from their home and were sleeping in a friend's barn along with quite a few other people involved. I think we went out to eat (drink) again afterwards.

We drove out to the site (Toasty Polo Club Grounds) around 8:30am (wtf?). Things were running at least an hour behind schedule as patrons scrambled to douse themselves of flame. That gave us time to stand around and do nothing. Eventually things started cooking. The Boss had us lead the procession into the jousting arena (which is better than following the horses!). We added a bit of sound to the clash of the jousters via belches, flatulence, and the occasional "heave ho!" Some smart ass kid in the audience yelled out “you’re an embarrassment” at some point to a jouster (I don’t know which one). The jousters have a good sense of humor and took everything in stride (pun intended). Paramedics removed the lance from his...uh...After the first round, we played some short sets in the little marketplace behind a privy. There were some good compliments about the band adding to the atmosphere as most people in the crowd had never seen a live band before. They only have wax bands in California. We made our way back to the main arena gate to process in for the second round. The second round of jousting went better (three dead horses and a jouster cleaved in half by a falling coke machine).

At the end of the day, we recorded a video and took photos (under the bleachers). We also had a chance to sit around and spend some time meeting the jousters and sharing stories. One jouster told us a tale about a man from Australia who moved to a remote place in New Zealand to enjoy a bit of hermit life. After a couple of months, a big biker guy shows up at his house and invites him to a party. The guy is excited and agrees to attend. The biker warns him that there would be loud music. The man says no problem because he likes music too! The biker warns him that there would be drinking. The man doesn’t mind and admits that he enjoys drinking too! The biker tells him that there would be lots of sex involved and the man exclaims his excitement and asks when he should come over. The biker tells him it doesn’t matter since they would be the only two at the party!

The band said goodbye to the jousters and drove back to the San Diego Brewery Company for (drinks) dinner. They had a decent root beer. It was $2.90! Well, so much for my cut of the wages! I walked home in disgust, leaving a trail of burnt breadcrumbs...