Saturday, July 2, 2011

And the Band Plays On...

Sunrise in the mirror
Lightens that invisible load
Riding on a nameless quest
Haunting that wilderness road

(RUSh lyrics - Ghost Rider; Vapor Trails, 2002)

So, I was tryin’ to think of some catchy RUSh song title to weave into the header for this story – as karmicly the radio’s playin’ Tom Sawyer: “NO his Mind is NOT for rent – to any Art or Government;” Catch the Spirit, Catch the Spit!” (Whale it was way back when I began typin’ away awhile ago...)

As how many hundreds ‘O times have I heard ‘N sung along to that most epic ‘Ye musical melody from thee ‘Kuhnadiun Crunch, aka The Power Trio from Up North Eh! As I’ve just discovered that the Boyz ‘O Summer will be playing arguably their finest album of all time in its entirety this tour – an album from three decades ago titled Moving Pictures – which would have been the perfect symmetry for me to end my association with the band, as that was my very first ever concert of there’s way back when in the Coliseum...

Yet I suppose there’s some sorta further symmetry here, eh? As it is indeed ironic that without any forethought, I’d just haveda passed back thru Ellensburg, WA upon a 5-day Sojourn over duh Mountains to our dry side of the state, to which my Motorcoach’s operator, head cook ‘N bottle washer... Shush! DON’T tell herz; as Mary Ellen informed me that we were approximately 75-miles shy of the Gorge in George, WA – where the Boyz will be dropping by this very night upon their Time Machine Tour; CRIKEYS! As I haven’t seen Geddy, Alex and whom Pamela coined “Thee Rhythm Professor,” a.k.a. Neil Peart since 2008; as Danny will undoubtedly be chidin’ Mwah ‘bout whether or not there still playin’ their only HIT song Working Man? Whilst another ex-friend Marco couldn’t believe I wasn’t gonna be attending the concert, as the Gorge Amphitheatre with Columbia River as the stages backdrop is a great venue to partake a concert at... As I just hope the wind dies down, as the last time  I saw RUSh play there 3-years ago the wind was fierce enough to totally blow the sound around cattywompus – making it a very disappointing show for Mwah – soundwise... Which potentially doesn’t bode well for this evening’s show since it was windier then all ‘GeddyUp the first two days we were in Eastern Washington – as symbiotically I’m playin’ chase the radio’s signal around the dial as I try FURR-iously poondin’ out this delectable piece ‘O poetry; Hya! As that was a pun intended for the two Bitches who accompanied us North by Northwest, or was it South by Southeast?

And like the previous RUSh song Ghost Rider from above:
From the white sands
To the canyon lands
To the redwood stands
To the barren lands

With it being full tilt boogy to get outta Dodge prior to Ye dreaded rush hour traffic Monday afternoon in our hurkin’ motel on wheels machine – a nearly three decades old 24’ RV with “Feurd’s” largest big block gasoline V-8 motor in the front cab, as the 460cid gets a miserly 8-10 miles to the gallon of petrol; SHEISA!

As Mary Ellen sez: Yuhs DON’T wanna make a wrong turn in that rig – ‘cause it’ll cost Yuhs a half-gallon of petrol to just go back ‘round the block; CRIKEYS!

As we spent the first night nestled into another excellante campsite in the forests of the Cascades – where we were awoken to the sound of steadily increasing precipitation bouncin’ off the vehicles ceiling in the early morning hours.

And Yuhs know you’re losing it when you get more excited ‘bout smelling the wild roses on your favourite hiking trail in the Yakima River Canyon/Valley/Basin... As Mary Ellen informed Mwah that the Yakima River meanders all the way from Snoqualmie Falls to the Columbia! As we’d traverse the trail three times in all, the first being in what Mary Ellen noted as when ONLY Mad Dogs ‘N Englishmen go for walks, i.e.; in the BLOODY HEAT of the Midday; Hya! As we had to be on guard  for ‘Rattler’s, i.e.; Rattlesnakes which apparently are prevalent during the summer months in the High Desert plains – having thought they were only a concern in the Valley of the Sun, Err Arizona. As your Humble Scribe even thought he’d heard ‘Juan on our third ‘Walkabout in the Bush – first hearing a slithering noise and then a muted low tome rattling in the high grasses opposite the beaten path...

And speakin’ O petroleum burning, tyre beltchin’ machinery – I’m gonna Exit Stage Left ‘n go watch the ‘Aussie Boyz pound ‘round in their V8 Supercars...

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