Barenaked in the Morning

7-24-05
8:29 p.m.

Leaving Grand Forks, ND, going someplace called Rugby. It can’t be all bad with a name like that. There was a problem with our room at Days Inn, so we had to switch to a smoking room. I walked in, stopped breathing, and barely got to my inhaler in time. To clear my lungs, Molly and I watched the sun set. The cloud formation was incredible, and the sunlight splayed out like golden angel’s song over the tops of them. We went back to the room (puff, puff on inhaler) and had a shaving party in the tiny, dirty bathroom. We went to sleep a little later, Molly and I on one bed, Joanie (Molly’s mum) and Luann (sp? Molly’s aunt) on the other bed, and Lindz and Heather (Molly’s sisters) on the floor. Woke up this morning, showered, ate the free continental breakfast, and left. I’m boycotting Days Inns, now.
The clouds this morning are like whisps of angel hair. It amuses me to picture cherubim and seraphim in a salon, chatting away to their stylists.
“Maroon” by the Barenaked Ladies proves very appropriate to this trip. Lindz has graciously provided me with new batteries. I’m hoping these last. Molly’s listening to AC/DC. I wonder how that suits this glorious morning.
Unused as I am to morning light, I find that it is very pretty. It seems sort of paler, more delicate, than the afternoon daylight I cavort in. “Falling for the First Time” really is a good song, perfect for watching dust blow over fields, for watching shadows cast by this oddly warm pale light. As the song changes to “Conventioneers”, I think two things: that Jim Creeggan is my favourite living bass player, and that Steven Page is one of those lucky people who could soothe a squalling baby just by singing to them.