May 16th, 2007.

At the Rainbow Planet Coffee House in Tucson, we saw a little bit of Portland. Here is a very cozy, homey place with organic food and kick-ass mochas (as gleefully sampled by Ji). Other hints of Portland infused the evening. The barista, Ash, (yet one more excellent sandwich-maker we've encountered on our travels) used to live in N.E. Portland, very close to our neighborhood, too. And sitting by the door, these two shining and outgoing women, Mary and Jamie, are thinking about moving to Portland. Mary happened to save me from a desperate situation by getting me a tampon from her Jeep. I can't believe I forgot mine back at the hotel room, but in a way, I'm glad I had to walk up to these two girls before the show and beg their assistance and acquaintance. It turns our that Jamie has been drumming for 13 years. She really seemed to enjoy Ji's creativity on such a limited kit, and also offered to supply him with any drums he might need should we come back through Tucson. This is definitely the kind of town where you say hello to people you walk by in the street. I didn't realize how much I missed that aspect of Portland until we arrived here. Thanks Tucson.

As we left Tucson and drove the spectacular road to San Diego we encountered lightning storms, sand dunes and dust devils! Here are some pics that Ji took of our sunset...keep in mind he just pointed and clicked--this is how the pictures came out of their own accord...

May 13th, 2007.

Mother's Day and we are at our farthest point away from family. But phone calls can be made, and words exchanged, and laughter and teasing can cross several time zones, with or without the aid of a slap on the butt or a kiss on the cheek. Moms, we love you!!! Thanks for supporting your crazy children!

There is this thing among musicians. Well, at least among Ji and I. That thing is that you always play a different show than the audience feels. You could feel like you played like crap and people will say, "Wow man, that was the best version of that tune ever." Or, you could play what you feel to be within the realm of a fourth dimension - everything seems so uncanny and so gifted, it is as if you really aren't playing, some other joyous creature has control of the reigns. This is usually this scenario where people didn't hear because the sound was bad, the margarita machine kept going, or there were only two people in the bar.
Last night, the latter was true. We played our best show of the entire trip thus far, for four people. And damn, if it wasn't good! I really don't mind saying so. Ji and I were simply beaming. We stood back , got out of the way of the music, and had us some real fun. And then we took a break, and went out to meet David the architect and another man, named Mark, I believe. We spent more time with David, because it turns out that he knows friends of Unity and Cristela's, and we almost met him at this crazy Luau the night before.
Okay. Sidetrip. The Luau.
Here is where the rock star lifestyle blazes a glorious, if brief, trail in our trip. Maybe it was the influence of Texas. Or maybe it was the leis we were all wearing. Or maybe it was the deliciously deceptive, gigantic and never-ending washtub of Everclear Hawaiin punch. But somehow Ji and I both tried our hand several times at hula hooping, much to my dismay the next morning. Did you know that vigorous hula-hooping produces sensations akin to having your ribs broken? And somehow I agreed to compete in a limbo contest with a bunch of rubber gumby women, miraculously making my way to the last rung before the winner took all. In my hatha yoga way, I kept holding the back bend. It was weird, I just would slowly go under the pole, then it was like I would get stuck there, an invisible string attached from my sternum to the green wooden rod. Then I would walk under, and onto a lower setting. That is eventually how I lost. I was suspended under the rod, caught in a quiet moment of no movement, then as a tried to make an exit, my chest raised and I bumped the pole.
Unable to catch a free drum, Ji stood on a platform and dutifully clapped his woman onto a would-be victory. Only this wasn't like the twister contest honey, I was bound to lose. Because get this: the winner, a noticeably tall and stunning beauty, Melissa, actually took off a pair of four-inch heels to compete in the final rung. Shit, man. None of us even saw it coming. I guess it was dark, and there were drums. We were all in bare feet, and there she goes, taking off her damn heels! Dude! No sir, I can't compete with that, not even if I had shucked "Car Body" completely. You gotta give it up to a girl like that.
Okay, back to Ruta Maya. Here is a pic taken just after setting up...what a beautiful space! Kudos to the fine barista, Natalia. We were just playing for tips, and I hadn't realized that no food or drink besides coffee come with the gig. So when I ordered a glass of wine and realized I had to pay, I chose to give Luna a drink over taking one for myself. But during the break, Natalia enjoyed the music so much, she just bought the drink for me. If I were the owner of that establishment, I would give her an Employee of the Month award or something. She really made us feel like champs on a quiet Sunday night with no crowd. Our next two listeners actually called to check if we were still playing and caught the last three songs. Man, it was so fun, it didn't matter if there were two or two hundred people that night.

Before Ji and I left to go on this tour, we wrote out a list of our intentions and posted them on our fridge. Among those intentions, we wanted to make connections with new people in such a way that they would want to hear us play music again. And that is just what happened. These are the very real successes. And this night, I was proud to sit next to Tanzer and just do what we do best. Thank you for listening.

May 12th, 2007.

Last night's Sangria House Concert was shifted to a different location. We ended up playing another outdoor show at this absolutely gorgeous cafe called The Candlelight. Although a bit blurry, you can get a sense of the beauty in this pic...The food was amazing and the night, although riddled with mosquitos, was sublime. And hey, every table came equipped with a candle and a can of Off. This show was both sweet and sad. Our lovely friends and hostesses Unity and Cristela, of the famed house concert in October of 2006, were once again key to securing this show for us and then inviting a wonderful audience of new friends and old friends, to come watch. These two women are so fabulous, beauty and magic surround them always. Twinkle lights glittered as people moved about, and wine glasses clinked among the conversation. Although farther away than we usually play, we eventually got some sense of the crowd and felt a good, if different connection.
The hard part came with a phone call to Unity as she was helping me set up my t-shirts and cds. Her uncle passed away that afternoon of a heart attack. The tone of her voice immediately caught my heart up in a tight little ball, higher in my chest than it usually sits. When she came back we had already begun to play "January Light," and she had to leave to go pick up her mom and be with her family. Watching her go into the humid night, it struck me again that I originally wrote the song I was singing as a eulogy. "Birth and death, birth and death... mirth and breath."
Joy to the living, peace to the passing, and miracle to those on their way.

Unity, our love and our hearts are with you and your family.

May 11th, 2007.

Once again, Mozart's Coffee Roasters was riddled with students and their laptops, and visiting families. This time however, it carried the energy of release rather than the crush of mid-terms. The performance here was pretty much as it was in the fall, but instead of spiders and leaves landing on drums and pianos, Ji and I both swallowed bugs.
Our favorite dancer ever, can be seen here.
May 11th, 2007. The fabulous and artful Gida Luna. She even shares a name with our trooper of mileage and dreams, Luna the Jeep. Gida's parents, Giovana and John were kind enough to offer to take some photos for us. At one point Ji thought he lost these and was crushed for a day, until they reappeared within the mysterious inner-workings of the camera. How could we deal with losing the captured images of the best dancer ever?
Our immense gratitude for this part of the journey goes out to my cousin Kelly for letting us crash at her new digs in Killeen. It was good to catch up on laundry and to cook some real food. There is a lesson here though. If you laugh at stories of your cousin dropping a can of soup on her toe and breaking it in a grocery store, chances are that instant karma will get you right in the face. Chances are that in the middle of unloading the dishwasher you will suddenly lose control of a very heavy, glass Pyrex frying pan lid, and it will fall squarely on your toe. Yes. It is true, Sanborn has sustained an injury on this tour. Kelly, feel free to laugh all you want right now. The crazy part was that Ji was taking a nap, and I didn't want to alarm him or wake him up by screaming, but I couldn't supress the noise. So what ended up transpiring was Ji waking up to this sort of inhuman, closed-mouthed whooping noise, and me hobbling around in circles in the kitchen still gripping the offending Pyrex lid while tears streamed down my face. The subsequent spreading of the bruise and swelling has officially ended my running career for this leg of the journey. Oh well. "Car body" is best enjoyed when accepted as a fact. Then maybe some relaxation can set in. Okay, I think that's enough for now. By the way, Ji is really good at running to my rescue in a hurry in just a pair of boxers.

May 7th, 2007.

This entry doesn't have much to do with music. But I totally forgot to mention that we woke up to more snow falling on Saturday morning!! The snow even continued when we trekked out to El Dorado with Liza and Acazia for brunch at Josh and Julie's house. We were honored to be invited to eat amazing food, meet new people, and catch up with good, old friends whilst being bedazzled by new babies and flurries of wild May snow. It was so good to meet Josh and Julie's two-month-old daughter, Deva. With Ji there, all we had to have was somebody in the group named Guru and we'd have been across the universe:)
And another note: what in the name of all that is Holy would a trip to Santa Fe be without a visit to that mecca, that destination, that refuge - The Horseman's Haven? Folks, you gotta go.

May 6th, 2007.

Last night's show was at the legendary Mine Shaft Tavern. The first story we heard about this place wasn't exactly what you would call settling. More like entertaining, or even terrifying. When Ji was on tour with Ruby Dee and the Snakehandlers back in March, the lead guitarist, Jorge Herada regaled him with a memory of the Tavern.
Apparently, when Jorge played there with Dragstrip 77, the barkeep gave the band a stern pre-show warning. "Listen. If people start shooting their guns outside, you have to stop playing." This of course implied that at some point in the recent past, someone had started blazing away with rowdy gunfire, and the band had actually kept on playing. But hey, this was way back in the mid '90's, so what could possibly happen now?
As it was, just an great evening of music. We were lucky enough to play with the talented brothers Rothschild that comprise the core of Round Mountain. They were joined by John Gagen on bass, plucking away in his usual stellar fashion. As you may recall from past entries, or just by scrolling further down, we have some very similar photos of the tremendous musicianship of my dear friends. They started off the evening and played a fantastic set of their original world-folk.
When it came time for us to play, honestly I was nervous. And it didn't really get any better throughout the evening. It wasn't until we spilled into the bar after the first set and I got real feedback from some of the audience members, that I began to feel better. I don't know, it was so hard to gauge the way the listeners were taking it. Ji and I are definately used to more intimate settings. But that is what this trip is about: growth and learning. And when it came time to count out our cash onto the bar, the booker and bartender extraordinaire, Andrew, gave me some of the best verbal support of the trip. On our approach to the bar, when all was packed up, he hailed us with, "Hey, that was cool." Feebly, I began something like, "Really? I didn't know if my music would go over..." but he firmly cut me off with, "What? You think people were going to start stabbing each other?" When I smiled, half in amusement, half in acknowledgment, Andrew continued.
"Listen, I was a customer here before I was a bartender, and a bartender before I was a booker. And let me tell you, it was no great shakes having the same old, tired bar blues every night. I wanted to try to change things, to make this place different. So that's why I started booking different kinds of music. And let me tell you something else. People in Madrid have ears. They know, and they will always surprise you. No, tonight was good."
And with that, like with the best of parents, Andrew let me know that there just wasn't any room for self-doubt or assumptions. You do what you do, you give it out, and you just keep on giving. Where that gift lands or what people do with it isn't really any of your business. Your only business is to do what you love with a wide, wide open heart. Thanks for the lesson in trust, Andrew. You rock.

May 4th, 2007.

The clunks and rattles of the early-to-rise hikers helped us peel out of bed at 6 am. Without the benefit of a brisk and breathtaking hike to look forward to, we steeled ourselves for another day of "car body." "Car body," as you can probably guess from personal experience, is that peculiar state of the body that always includes one raised hip, hunched shoulders, tennis balls hiding within the confines of shoulder blades, bent knees and the conviction that the back is a hinged joint somewhere about the middle of the spine. Oh yes, and I forgot to mention the flat ass, somewhat numb from not very much circulation and too many chips. We jealously regarded the fit, adventurous climbers anticipating the overwhelming beauty of the landscape as we all mutually emptied our wallets into our gas tanks at the filling station. I did some calf stretches against the curb of the gas-tank island for good measure.

We may not have had a hike to go on, but we did benefit from a fantastic complimentary breakfast at 6:45 am from our gracious hosts at Mondo Cafe, Bob and Sarah. That actually goes miles within our budget and is greatly appreciated. Thanks again you guys. No snow to report however... that happens later on. And besides a lesson on how to say "Shiprock" in Navajo from this amazing woman who gave us free popcorn at the filling station in New Mexico, nothing much happened. To my shame, I can't remember the word, but I can tell you it sounds much prettier than "shiprock," and it's meaning implies the wing of a bird. The wing image makes much more sense when you look at the land feature anyway. Damn, the things you forget.

We arrived at Casa Liza y Acazia with enough time to take the most refreshing nap of my life on their futon. It was amazing. In just 30 minutes I felt like I slept 8 hours, no joke. The show itself was at Backroad Pizza. It was wonderful to actually match a face to the name of "Piper," my booking correspondent and the co-owner of the restaurant. The food was awesome, and if you go, I highly recommend the spinach salad. Yes. My car body rejoiced at the taste of something green.

Liza helped us out with these photos. As you can probably tell, she figured out how to use this camera better in 10 minutes than we have been able to figure out in a year. Oh well, that's a professional photographer for you. Among the fine faces we were pleased to see were Julie and Gabe Gomez, Joseph Fitzpatrick (that's "Dean Fitz" to you) and Carol Carpenter, and many more... thanks for the support you guys. After the show, we bailed on the plan to join the karaoke fest at the gay old people's home. I began to regret this, but my tiredness would not comply with any little nag of adventure-seeking curiosity. Just as well, for the fun-fest has disbanded by the time the late posse arrived. But next time, I swear, Bon Jovi will Blaze Glory again in Santa Fe.

This conclusion to my lengthy entry has to do with gratitude for something I give very little honor to and would do well to respect more deeply with my time: Sleep. We are truly blessed to be able to sleep until we wake up, to be sleeping in such a comfortable bed, and to be sleeping in the house of two such beautiful and generous souls. Actually, three such souls, including the regal green-eyed, gray furred, 15 lbs cat, "Little Bear." Little Bear, we love you. Please send a volley of purrs and whiskery nudges to our own dearly missed queen, Dayna. What dreams may come...

May, 3rd 2007

This is ji chiming in for this post...rebecca is sitting across from me folding sheaves of paper for her handmade journals. For those of you who don't know, we've created a special edition to the journals this go-round - including a CD of us playing meditative music and beautiful watercolor paintings from our friend and local Portland painter Scott Johnson. If I may be so bold...they are quite spectacular...

This morning we awoke and fought off the hellacious winds of Jerome Idaho, outside of Twin Falls. For someone as "hair conscious" as me it is certainly like hell on earth. Too bad the people are so nice.

I'll give it to you straight. After the exciting early morning buzz wore off I slept for 2 hours while Rebecca drove and listened to the Glorious music of Andrew Bird and the falling rain of Northern Utah. Come to think of it, today was a day of crazy weather.

Once I took over driving duties at exactly the half-point of our journey to Moab, Rebecca fell asleep to my favorite "this is ji's quiet time while driving" selection: The Pogues' - Rum Sodomy & the Lash. She woke up literally 15 minutes after she fell asleep to Shane Macgowan bawling on and white out conditions. And of course she had to wake up right as I was passing a Semi going 20 mph who's spray made the world unseeable...I wish I had a picture of her face. Wonder and Fright is a stunning combination.

Speaking of getting stunned...I got pulled over by the Police somewhere south of the town of Price. I think the officer was going to give me a ticket for speeding, but after seeing that I truly was as handsome as People magazine said I was...he let me off with a warning. The pic is of my new "I just got caught doing something naughty" face i'm working on for their April spread. Note: in case you were wondering, I did work on my hair after the winds of Jerome. And yes, I will Autograph any copies of People magazine that you send me.

After safely making our way out of the snow laden mountains we drifted down into the canyon country of cental Utah, and finally to sere and sunny Moab.

The show tonight was curious for me. The staff of Mondo Cafe was very nice and genuinely interested in this journey we are taking. The owners Bob and Sarah seemed kind. They are transplants from Seattle who opened up the cafe a few years back.

The man that caught my attention the most was a regular named Willie. He reminded both Rebecca and I of the folks that my father and I used to play music for down at Sunnyside coffeehouse in Portland. He grabbed an old catalog of Rebecca's songs from inside our email list binder and thoughtfully went through the titles, calling out requests for his favorites. In this picture he is on the far left with his paintings to his right. Willie: collector of dead-pan jokes and giver of garlic and carob bars.

Tomorrow is a reunion - Us & Santa Fe.

Wednesday, May 2, 2007.

Here we are writing from Jerome, Idaho, and man, are we feelin' good. Our first show of the tour was something special. We happened upon a fantastic community of people at Java's in Twin Falls. We even had some of the great musicians in the audience come up and play some of their music during our break - thanks Ethan and Nathan!! Coming back to play here again in October will be a joy, especially if Cole makes us a couple of those beautiful sandwiches. I don't even like cucumbers and I was eating them like they were going out of style.

Special thanks to Jean, Mike, Tiff, Cole and the whole crew at Java's!

Before turning in I want to extend a HUGE and heartfelt thank you to all of the Portlanders who came out to support us at the Cake Walk event. 81 of you showed your love for us and for sweets - and even more support was sent from the people who couldn't make it. That was tremendous!!! What a party! 15 bakers donated cakes to auction, and 5 cakes and 10 slices of this gorgeous chocolate creation were given away during our surprising and
hilarious Cake Walk. I say surprising because I don't think anyone there - including me - knew to what extent people would totally get into cake walkin'. Because of you crazy walkers, we raised enough money to pay for gas for our tour... and this, this makes me want to burst with gratitude. Long live music.