Date: Mon, 26 Jun 2017 11:32:58 -0400
From: oldhippie1949 <oldhippie1949@gmail.com>
Subject: Davy's On The Road Again, Ch. 16

Davy's On The Road Again, Ch. 16

The following story is fiction. Sure, some of it may seem real but that's
because it's based upon true events and episodes in the life of your humble
narrator. It involves all variations of sex between men and women, between
women and women, between men and mem and in all combinations thereof. The
story is fiction and is not intended to imply anything about the true
sexuality of the celebrities mentioned or any personal knowledge about
their private lives. There are lyrics to songs that add not only tribute to
the songwriters but add color and atmosphere to the story. Some of the
characters are real people whose names have not been changed. They are
there to advance the story and expand your imagination. I hope you enjoy
the telling and the tale.

I wrote this story several years ago and published it on another site. This
version is updated at corrected and in some ways is different from the
original story. Send your comments to oldhippie1949@gmail.com.

And remember, Nifty.org needs your donations to keep this site running,
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html. Thank you.
--------------------------------------------------

Hello, my friends. It's been a long season since we've communicated and I
thought now that things seem to be settling down, I would bring you up to
date in my ongoing saga. To tell you the truth, I'm pretty exhausted these
days and very glad to be home with Amy again. In fact, the last few years
have been a whirlwind for me and I'm surprised that exhaustion isn't my
biggest health issue. Let's just be happy that's all I can bitch about.

My life has been a lottery win. Considering that only a few years ago, my
only retirement plan was to die, everything that has happened is nothing
short of miraculous. They say that money can't buy happiness but I think
that is only partially true. With the addition of some luck, money can buy
you breathing space, breathing space can bring you focus, focus can direct
you toward attaining your goals, attaining your goals can provide
satisfaction, satisfaction can grant you peace of mind and peace of mind
can bestow happiness. So I raise my glass to the New York State Lottery
Commission for getting me back on my feet and starting my ball(s) rolling
again.

What I really want to do here is bring you up to speed with my life. I've
received so many nice emails and letters asking me to continue my saga (and
while I had no intention to do so), I realized that it was okay so why not,
you know? Not that I want to pander to my fan base, I don't. In a way, my
writing you is therapeutic for me. It reminds me of where I've been, what I
do and what may be for me in the future. It feels good to air it all out.
It feels better to receive your good vibes.

Everything, it seems, rolls up to Amy, my love, my muse, my best friend and
my blessing. Our partnership is one of sublime synergy. We've reached a
stage where we finish each other's thoughts. My songs are all
collaborations now. Everything I write she polishes like fine jewels and
the opposite is true, too. We even cum together. To say that we're on the
same page is to read only the cover leaf. I feel as though my life is full.
She completes me and I am a far better person.

But on to my story: For a while, during the East Coast swing, we were based
out of New York. Amy convinced me that we should go to the clinic and find
out of my frozen straws of sperm could impregnate her. I knew that she so
much wanted a baby that I couldn't refuse her, nor did I want to. Like
everything else in my life over the last few years, nothing I planned ever
happened, it all just fell into place. So why not live by chance? All the
other things around me would continue, so why not follow instincts? As it
turned out, my frozen sperm had the strength of a prize bull. A few weeks
after our first attempt, Amy woke me in the middle of the night.

"It worked, Davy,"

"What worked, baby?"

"The baby! It worked. I know it. I feel it. I feel different. I feel
great." The sentences tumbled out of her. Her skin glowed bright even in
the darkened room. "I was dreaming in my sleep and I felt our little boy
talking to me. He asked me to sing to him. I woke up and I could feel him!"

The next day, we went back to the clinic and damned if she wasn't right.
Immediately, I started making plans to take her off the Breadbasket Tour
but she would hear none of it. "My baby wants me to sing to him and so I
shall." There was no discussing it with her. She knew that she had to do
this. And why not live by instinct, right? As we walked down Fifth Avenue,
I steered her into Tiffany's and bought her an emerald pendant. Since that
first day, I can't stop doing for her. Damn, if she asked me, I'd carry her
around on my back.

The first to know were Sally, Stevie, Mark and Deb. Over lunch at Joe
Allen's, the women were plotzing over the pendent when Sally started to
cry. She just knew. There were a lot of tears and backslaps during that
lunch. A bottle of Bollinger 1971 became a "dead soldier" very quickly.
Within hours it seemed that everyone knew. It even ended up on Page Six a
couple of days later.

Word quickly got around the tour and everyone was crazy with joy for us.
The constant party seemed to jack up a level. Clooney told us to come to
Lake Como whenever we needed to rest up. Buffett arranged with Richard
Branson to have the entourage vacation on Necker Island. We did both but
I'll get to all of that later.

So here it is, months later, the very successful (musically and
fund-raisingly) tour ended, back from Italy and Amy's belly is almost ready
to pop. Her tits are huge although fortunately not in the Aretha Franklin
range, thank God. And yup, it is a boy in there. We've been dancing over
names but since my grandma said it's bad luck to talk about that, you'll
have to wait for the birth announcement.

Also, until a few weeks ago, she was the horniest thing and we sure had a
lot of sex but now, it's hands off her. Still, she likes to watch and last
night, as Sally and Stevie decided that I need a good fuck, she held my
hand as they brought me off. Looking at her rosy, glowing fat face while
she lightly stroked her puss made my cum boil.

So now that I've passed along the good news, let me tell you about our
summer of the best music of my life. The Breadbasket Tour was one of those
once-in-a-lifetime events that will live in my memory forever. I've tried
to write songs about it but I find that it's hard to do because I have no
aesthetic distance. I also find that a lot of my musical ideas seem copped
from other artists I heard on the tour. I think it will take some time
before I can write with a fresh approach again. I've got too many bees in
my head. Still, it was an experience that I will always cherish and I'm so
glad to have been a part of it.

Midway through the tour, I received this email from a fan who caught the
show in St. Louis.

"Mr. Harper,
My friends and I caught the Breadbasket Tour at The Verizon. We loved every
minute of it. Every act was excellent and everyone seemed to be having fun
on stage and in the seats. But, I must tell you that when you were on
stage, there was a special vibe in the air. You brought everything to a
higher level. On our way home, we were all so happy! You did that for us
and I will be eternally grateful. In a shitty economy and a fucked-up
world, you seemed to bring hope back...."

That did it for me. As I read it, it all seemed to catch up to me and I
began to weep like Speaker John Boehner. To think that my music could do
that to people just blew me away. I quickly wrote this song and have since
incorporated it into my set.

"It is always there.
Sometimes it seems like it's hiding.
It's just waiting to be recalled.
It is always there for you.
Hope endures.
Hope, hope, hope is yours.

Some days, hope is sadly forgotten
Like a memory you never knew you had
And everything feels so awful, so bad
But it will pass.
Every moment is new.
Hope endures.
Hope, hope, hope is yours..."

That letter provoked a whole attitude in me and it spread it through the
other performers. Where I was, whatever I did, this was my message. It was
like a fever. Whenever we did TV appearances, we spread that message -
"Hope endures. Hope is Yours". On our amazing set on the Letterman show,
both Dave and the audience seemed to respond enthusiastically as though we
had touched a nerve. The feature piece on 60 Minutes helped to spread the
message further. And when the Vanity Fair article appeared, the message
went viral. When we performed in Washington D.C. on the National Mall, The
President told me that our message of hope had transformed the country, had
revitalized the public, had crossed all social barriers and had displayed
the greatness to which our nation aspires. I have never felt so blessed and
so humbled that my sorry ass could be the vessel of hope.

I kept a journal going during the tour. What follows are some of my
thoughts. I have only edited a little bit out and some of the names are
suppressed because I have no business sharing them with the rest of the
world. Sorry about that but I want to remain friends with these people, you
know? I've also polished up some of my thoughts and made them more (I hope)
linear and readable.

<b>Los Angeles</b>
Our opening shows. We played two, one on Friday and one on Sunday. First
show was shaky with getting all the bugs out but Springsteen was amazing
and his duet with Dylan was purely electrifying. My set was fun and well
received. I added Ed Begley on bass and had him lead on "Pleasant Valley
Sunday" which was a scream. I brought out Clooney to do his "Man of
Constant Sorrow" shtick and that brought down the house. I also enjoyed
Crosby, Still and Nash, all in fine voice. At one point in their set, they
brought out Richie Furay and did a couple of Buffalo Springfield and Poco
songs. With J.D. Souther, Jackson Browne and Chris Hillman on back-up
vocals, it was a fine L.A. reunion.

...Santo is staying with Clarence and Rosemary at our house in Aspen and we
miss him. It's the first time without my buddy and it's a little
unsettling. I know that he's well cared for but still, it's like a piece of
me is missing...

...We stayed with Mark and Deb and had a furious foursome the night before
the show. Deb is really into her strap-on these days as my asshole can
substantiate. She really pounded me. Fortunately, Mark's lips around my
dick distracted me and took some of the pain away. We moved to the pool
under the moonlight and Amy blew us both at the same time which was not
only exciting for both of us but very satisfying for Amy. She couldn't
swallow both our loads and our cum covered her chin as it dripped out of
her. Deb's snowball helped clean the mess up. We stayed up very late and,
like little kids, we played and giggled. It was especially amusing when we
ate ice cream off each other. Like the old joke punch line about putting
whipped cream on your dick, "it looked so good I almost ate it myself."

...Going to drive up to San Francisco in Big Chocolate with a full bus to
our next show. Elon and Susan will drive it back to L.A. afterwards as Elon
has some new ideas for it. He also intends to take it on a bit of a road
trip and I know they will have a great time. I can't wait to see what he
has in store but he won't tell me. He hinted at some new higher CPU storage
and more efficient Lithium batteries from Korea that he wants to install.
He's also talked about updating the displays and adding some other toys.

<b>San Francisco</b>
...The ride up the coast was hilarious. A lot of wine, a lot of smoke and
tons of laughs. Hillman knew of a nude beach near Cayucos and the sight of
twenty-five crazy rock and rollers running nude into the surf was a gas.
Someone told us that sharks were spotted nearby and we all ran out faster
than we ran in. We sat around on blankets getting high during lunch. Did
you know that when naked, rock stars have some interesting tattoos. I was
amazed by J--- who has a tattoo of public hair on her pubes! Another star,
who is notoriously gay, has a tattoo of a target on his butt cheeks.
Bull's-eye!

...The S.F. show came together and showed the real promise of this tour.
Van Morrison performed a surprise set as did Neil Young. Young pissed
everybody off because before his set, he made demands for money. Graham,
Stephen and Leon Russell calmed him down but it still left a bad taste in
everyone's mouth. But that's always been his story: money, money, money and
more money. At least he's not a tightwad like "Two-Dollar Bill" Joel, who
got that nickname for the size of the tip he leaves...

Neil came out and sang "Helplessly Hoping" with Graham, David and Stephen.
Stephen was having problems with his voice (probably hoarse from our trip
north) and I substituted his vocal parts. We were introduced as C,S,N,Y &
Harper and, for me, it was pure magic. Inside, I was shaking.

Van followed us and killed. With a phrasing like no one else and a band
that follows every breath, he is a master. I've always performed "Into The
Mystic" and, tonight, his version was pure magic but long after the show
was over, I couldn't get this song out of my head:

"Oh, the smell of the bakery from across the street got in my nose
As we carried our ladders down the street with the wrought-iron rows
I went home and listened to Jimmy Rodgers in my lunch-break
Bought five Woodbines at the shop on the corner and went straight back to
work.

What's my line?
I'm happy cleaning windows.
Take my time
I'll see you when my love grows.
Baby don't let it slide
I'm a working man in my prime
Cleaning windows..."

What a great rhythmic swing to that song. It just creeps in under your skin
and stays there. A few nights later, Mark and I were talking about Van.
Mark talked about working on one of his records, about how much fun it was
and how peculiar Van is. Mark explained to me that many of Van's songs take
place in a time when he was a teenager which not only made a lot of sense
to me but also explained the meaning of many of his songs. Wherever he
draws his inspiration, his music is unique, intelligent and oh so soulful.
He is one of my favorites and an inspiration.

...Other San Francisco highlights for me were The Black Keys, an amazing
duo, Boz Scaggs, Mike MacDonald and Donald Fagen were very, very cool...

...One night, after Elon took our bus to Menlo Park, we played "Spooey" in
our hotel room. I'd never heard of this game before but as I was ripped to
the gills on some Oaxacan, I was willing. There were ten of us sitting
around as Sally explained the rules. The rules were simple. The men had to
sit in a circle and jerk off on an apple. The last guy to jerk off had to
eat the apple. While the ladies cheered us on, ropes of cum shot across the
apple. It was hilarious. Fortunately, E----, with the target tattooed on
his ass, was the last. I think he intentionally held back so he could enjoy
his dessert. And enjoy it he did while we rolled around the floor, holding
our sides and  laughing our asses off.

<b>Seattle</b>
...Caught some needed sleep on the plane. The Vanity Fair article hit the
stands today and Amy, Annie Liebovitz (our official tour photographer) and
I devoured it. I was somewhat embarrassed to read Laura's gushing take on
us. I knew that this article was a game changer.

...Amy brought down the house on this night. She was as surprised as I. I
mean, I knew her spot was terrific but, to me, it was always terrific and I
admit to being prejudiced. For some reason, this room loved her more than
we had ever experienced and they showed it. It was a humbling experience
but also precisely what an artist on stage lives for. When you hear that
roar, that sonic mash of indistinguishable sound coming from the audience,
it is like nothing you've ever experienced before. It is a rush like no
drug can ever provide. When we finally made it backstage, she broke down in
a tsunami of tears. Other artists rushed around her. Etta James gave her a
huge hug and comforted her, telling her that she had just reached the
zenith of an audience's love and appreciation, that it only happens maybe
once or twice in a career if ever, and that she was entitled to relish
every moment of it. It was something she would never forget. That night in
bed, we talked about it for quite a while until she finally collapsed in a
combination of exhaustion, overstimulation and thrill.

...Also notable that night were Scott Weiland and the band, Temple Of The
Dog. Both acts did killer sets in front of their hometown crowds. But on
this night, it belonged to my Amy.

<b>Denver</b>
...a week off between shows and we're here in our home. The studio is a
work in progress but much has been done. The board is almost set up as are
the acoustic tiles and baffles. I intend to test it out one day this week.
The Caretaker's House is under also under construction and coming along
nicely. It's an energy-conscious modular home in a rustic style. I'm hoping
that Clarence and Rosemary can move into it in the next couple of months.
This is important as I have learned that their house is falling apart
around them. Clarence told me that the house was built in the very early
twentieth century and he's surprised that the drafty old place lasted this
long. I'm also going to talk to a local contractor about doing a conversion
of our house to geothermal heating. I want to lower our footprint and
provide natural heating to the water system...

...Elon called to tell me that he thought he might bring Big Chocolate back
this week but due to a series of meetings, it was not possible. Plus, he
said that he was having too much fun with it and we would have to wait. It
certainly didn't bother me. I told him to hold onto it. Anyway, I was just
glad for the down time...

...Stevie called me to tell me that a bunch of his friends were going over
to The Belly Up to see Skrillex so Amy and I met them there. It was cool
and he was a very interesting guy. I was kind of glad that the crowd was
young in that nobody bothered us, most likely because they didn't know who
we were. Not that my fans are aggressive or anything like that, I mean that
we were left alone and sort of incognito, just enjoying the band and the
scene like everyone else. Like at the Stephen Talkhouse in Amagansett,
music people can walk in, hang at the bar and watch the show without
dealing with over-friendly zealous fans. You see, what fans don't seem to
realize is that, at our core, we (musicians) are fans, too. That's what we
are. This point really comes home on this tour. We often hang in the wings
and watch other artists perform, not because we are competitive (although a
lot of us are, myself not included) but because we are fans. When another
artist is "on" and is bringing it to the audience, we want to see that and
cheer him on. He's bringing it to us, too, and it thrills us. We had a real
nice time at the Belly Up and while we were standing outside after the show
chewing the fat, Michael, the owner, came out and thanked me and Amy for
coming down and for doing good works in his town. It was nice. He tried to
press me into playing a gig there but Amy gracefully eased us out of a
commitment saying that our calendar was pretty thick at the moment. (I
swear, sometimes I think she should have a job at the U.N.) I told him that
I'm sure we'd do something together one of these days. As we walked to the
car, a very young kid ran up to us and asked for an autograph...for his
mother! Oh, well, that's how it is these days.

...While we were on tour, our estate management team got wind of a sale of
land adjacent to our property and riparian to the far side of the lake.
With our eager blessings, the purchase of 370 acres was arranged. Now, our
land runs from the road all the way up the mountain and over. The "secret"
house is now attached to the rest of our land. Amy and I made a gift of the
sacred lands to the Shoshone Nation. They plan to block the access road
with gates to prevent any interlopers from coming onto that land and that's
just fine with us. Up on the other side of the mountain, we want to
construct a "fresh air" camp for urban kids. We had the idea of hiring some
of our Yellowstone Ranger friends to run the place and take up residence
there. Fortunately, Ranger Williams and his wife were all for it. Rusty is
also eager to handle the ranch part of the camp. Both rangers have put in
their time with the Department of The Interior and see this opportunity as
a form of retirement. We intend to make it worth their while. We already
have an architect working on plans.

...Santo really missed us and has been slobbering all over us since we
drove up to the house. He jumped about and cried out with joy for nearly an
hour. He can't stop licking me. He's getting on in years but seeing us
brought back the pup in him. Earlier, when I was sitting by the pool, he
crawled under my chair and was licking my feet. A little while later, we
rolled around on the grass as I scratched his belly and I could clearly
tell that he was laughing. I love this animal. He's my buddy...

<b>Minneapolis</b>
...Dylan was amazing and a delight to watch. I just admire his endless
creativity and his ability to redefine his songs on the spur of the moment.
Sometimes, the songs are unrecognizable but then you suddenly get it and
you love it. Bob did something rare tonight in that he spoke to the
audience and told them some stories about his youth in Hibbings. Naturally,
they were strange meandering tales but riveting all the same.

...Mark and Deb were in Toronto and Ottawa for a some orchestral
performances and off the tour. Both Sally and Stevie seemed to have a bit
of a stomach bug and were holed up in their room. Fortunately, Laura flew
in to be with Tim and we had a great time with them. Laura was high from
all the good feedback from her article and it was infectious. Graydon asked
her to do a follow up about the tour so we'll be seeing a lot of her. Tim,
who has been an excellent technician and companion, was happy to have her
and their first night together caused lots of smiles due to the cacophony
coming from their room. There was plenty of ribbing at breakfast.

The next day, the four of us got up early for a small road trip around the
area. First, we stopped at The Mall of America but only stayed for about
ten minutes because it freaked us out. How much consumerism can a body
tolerate? For us, not much. From there, we traveled to Lake Minnetonka and
took a steamboat ride. It was a gloriously sunny day and the ride was so
relaxing. By two o'clock, we were on our way back.

Sitting in the back of our limo, we smoked a few joints and caught a nice
buzz. Laura seemed to have a case of loose lips and commented to Amy how
much she missed sex with us. This admission made Tim's eyes roll upside his
head.

"You mean, you've been in an orgy with Davy and Amy? Holy shit!"

"I wouldn't call it an orgy, Timmy. It was more like a threesome."

"Holy shit!"

"Are you mad at me? Don't be mad at me."

"No, no. I'm not. I'm just amazed, that's all. You are always surprising
me. Did you and Amy...you know...?"

"Yes, we did and it was divine. You know, I told you I have a bisexual
streak in me ever since these two broke me in. It's very different from
when you and I have sex. I mean, damn, man, you have the biggest cock I've
ever seen or had inside me - sex with you is five-star. But, with a woman,
it's different. If you've ever been with a man, you know what I mean."

Tim turned bright red and became very quiet.

"Oh, I think maybe I touched a nerve. You don't have to answer. I'm sorry,
baby, I didn't mean to embarrass you. Maybe I'm just too wasted and I
should shut up now." She snuggled up next to him.

"To answer you, the answer is no. I messed around a little when I was a kid
in  Boy Scout Camp but it was nothing...just jerking off with a bunch of
other kids...I think they just wanted to look at my dick. But, I guess like
everyone else, I have thought about it. I am a pretty liberal person."

Amy and I listened and never spoke up. I just quietly toked up and sipped
my water. Nothing more was said about the subject and we drove back to the
hotel with plenty of time before stage call.

The show was okay, I suppose. It's hard for me to gauge my performances
lately. Maybe I'm becoming jaded or used to them, maybe I'm so relaxed and
into the music that the audience seems not to exist. I don't know. I know
that we received a great applause so I guess it was a good show but, on
this day, I didn't feel the spark. I really loved Bruce Hornsby's set and
Solomon Burke blew me away. I was also very happy with the financial
reports. All the shows on the tour are sell-outs and every city's food
pantries are benefiting from all the press and the sudden influx of money
and resources. We are doing well. Still, for some reason, today seemed to
be a little like work. Maybe it was because I didn't have my mates behind
me? I don't know. Some days are like that. You just have to roll with it.

After the show and the meet-and-greet, all the performers seemed to
disappear into their hotel rooms. Jax said that at this point in the tour,
everyone needed their beauty rest.

Amy and I repaired to our room and called down for some room service. When
the doorbell rang, it was Laura and Tim wheeling in the tray.

"We saw the guy coming off the elevator and we couldn't resist. I hope you
don't mind but we ordered something for ourselves and we're going to join
you."

Amy popped the bottle of champagne and we toasted to the show. I pulled Tim
aside to talk about a problem I had with my cream Tele during the show and
he suggested that he might change the body and take a look at the pickups.
I also mentioned that I might need to retire a couple of my axes and pick
up some new ones. He told me that when we hit New York, Grisman mentioned
that he wanted to take the ferry over to Staten Island and visit the
Mandolin Brothers. That idea appealed to me, too, as I hadn't visited that
Mecca in many years. Next to Norman's in Tarzana, there is no better shop
in the world. Then comes Manny's for everything else. That's my kind of
shopping mall.

We sat around sipping the bubbly and toking from Tim's mini-bong. Amy and
Laura seemed especially intimate.

Tim asked, "Are you two horny broads going to put on a show for us or are
you two trying to give me a heart attack?"

Laura reached over and rubbed his pants. "More like a hard attack!"

"How big is it really?" Amy asked.

Laura stretched one hand out and moved it slowly back and forth. "You know
how the one-armed fisherman measures his catch?" Everyone liked that.

"Hey," I said, "did you ever see a one-armed man count his change?" I stood
up and turned my back to them. I fished some change out of my pocket,
unzipped my fly and put my other hand down my pants. I turned around to
them and sticking my thumb through my fly, counted the change in my cupped
palm. Well, let me tell you, I slayed 'em.

"You still haven't answered me," said Amy. "I want to see it! I want to see
your dick, Tim! And I know how to get this started..." She leaned over and
kissed Laura deeply on the lips. With one hand, she unbuttoned her blouse
and reached in. Laura moaned and let her head fall back. She began to
unbutton Amy's blouse and fondle Amy's breast. I passed the bong back to
Tim whose eyes were bugged out and glued to the action.

"Wow!" he whispered. "This is much better than watching porn on TV."

"No Shit!"

We sat and quietly watched them for a while. In no time, their clothes were
in disarray and Laura was cupping Amy's snatch. Looking over at Tim, I was
astonished at the immense bulge growing in his pants. I fished mine out and
was idly stroking it. I noticed that Tim kept looking over at me, his eyes
focused on my dick. I casually repositioned myself to give him a better
look.

"I think we should move this party," said Amy. Rising from the couch, she
and Laura waltzed into the bedroom, stripping along the way. Tim and I
followed.
Both women were naked, giggling and rolling around on the king-sized bed.
I began to remove my clothes. "Do you need a special invitation?"

In a flash, he was naked. "Oh my God!" I said half under my breath as his
monster was revealed. It had to be a foot long. Easy. Amy looked over and
her breath took a sharp intake.

"My goodness, Tim. How do you hide that in your pants. I am impressed. I'm
even more impressed that you can get it inside you, Laura! He's so big and
you're so small."

Laura stretched out her hand and pulled him onto the bed. "You're going to
love this, darling." She pulled him down and kissed him, wrapping her legs
around his waist. I sat down next to Amy and wrapped my arms around her as
we watched them. After a few minutes, she pulled away from him saying, "Not
so fast. We have plenty of time and lots of fun ahead. Just sit and watch a
while." She moved toward Amy's crotch and burying her face into her, began
to loudly lick and slurp Amy. Amy sighed and leaned back against me.

"She's delicious, Tim. Come...have a taste." She pulled Tim over. He looked
to me for a green light and I nodded. He hesitantly leaned in for a lick.

"Oh my," said Amy, "his tongue is long, too. Come on, Timmy, lick me some
more...it won't bite."

"Isn't she delish, Timmy?" He moaned in agreement.

I took some pillows and propped Amy so she could watch. Then I moved over
to Laura to suckle her popping nipples. Amy rolled Tim over and sat down on
his face. She reached down and began to stroke his cock. It certainly was a
beauty. Long and thin with a tilted purplish head, she stroked him down to
his balls and back up again marveling it immense size. Laura reached over
and stroked it, too. Within a few minutes, my hand joined theirs and three
hands caressed and stroked it. It grew even harder.

"I must try this," said Amy as she hopped off his tongue. "Lie back, Tim,
and let us take you to heaven. Hell, let's all go!"

Amy licked it from stem to stern several times and then tried taking it
down her throat. She could only get a few inches down. Looking at us, her
eyes were popping out.

"Watch me," said Laura as she took the head between her lips and swallowed
at least eight inches of it. She did this several times going lower each
time. She then pointed the head back to Amy who still could not get more
than four or five down.

"My turn," I said. Tim was watching this with a big smile on his face. I
took a firm grasp of the stalk and licked around the head. Slowly, I began
to descend on it. I found that it wasn't difficult to get my lips around it
but it was also hitting the top of my throat. I relaxed my throat and began
to suck him in slowly. Moving up and down on him, I was able to get about
eight or nine inches down. It felt weird having that much meat sliding
against my gullet. I felt him throbbing and I eased off.

"That's an interesting experience...different, to be sure."

Laura went back to work on him while Amy and stroked him and licked around
the stem. We each took one large ball between our lips and tongued them. He
was getting close.

Laura pulled away and said, "Now watch this." She grasped his cock and
lowered herself onto it. She rode it up and down and able to get most of
inside her. She turned to Amy, "Now you try."

Amy lowered herself slowly until about eight inches were inside, then she
rose up and down a few times until she had about ten. "Oh God, this is like
the Sybian, Davy!"

Tim gasped and said, "I'm gonna cum, you guys."

"Not in me, you're not." Amy jumped off quickly and Laura jumped back on. A
few strokes later, he began to grunt and gasp. Arching his butt, he
proceeded to dump his load into Laura who was squealing in joy. As his
orgasm subsided, he fell back and Laura, still impaled, fell on top of him.

Amy got on all fours and wiggled her tush. I got on my knees behind her and
began to fuck her ass hard. Reaching around, I diddled her clit until I
felt Tim's fingers there, too. I let him have it to himself as I pounded
her butt. Amy reached down and pressed on his hand. "Yeah...that's it...you
got it...yeah, yeah..." I heard her hiccup and I knew she was coming. Sure
enough, grunting followed and then soon after, I felt my cock getting a
sphincter squeeze. She lay down snuggling up next to Tim and with her hand
on Laura's ass.

After a few minutes, Laura rose up and said, "Do you know how I know my Tim
is interested in exploring? I'll show you." She rose off his now flaccid
cock and squatted over his mouth. Releasing her vaginal muscles, huge globs
of his cum plopped out on his waiting tongue. He reached up and pulled her
down onto him, his tongue snaking deep inside. Amy leaned up and began to
lather her clit.

"Mmmm. So good. Just like a cream-filled pastry, right, Timmy?" A huge
smile filled her face and as she looked at me, her eyes twinkled. "Mmmmm, I
love this." She enjoyed a long leisurely orgasm and her smile never left
her face. I think one thing that I've enjoyed about Laura is her visible
enjoyment in everything she does.

We sat around on the bed sipping the champagne and toking up some more. It
was getting late and tomorrow was a travel day. I was ready to call it a
night when Tim spoke up. "So let's see what the big deal is all about. Sit
back, Boss." He crawled between my legs and began to inspect my dick. Amy
and Laura cuddled up next to each other to watch Tim's first cocksuck.

He gingerly took it in his hand as though he was weighing it. He looked at
as though he was inspecting a purchase from a butcher shop.

Laura crawled up next to him and quietly said, "Go ahead, Tim. Get to it.
You know you want to. It's making me hot watching you play with it."

He looked at her, looked back at my cock and lowered his mouth on it. He
was so gentle, I couldn't even feel him. Slowly, ever so slowly, he seemed
to acclimate himself to what was happening and he began to enjoy it. Not a
lot, mind you, but it was a start. Amy crawled up along his other side and
the two women began to caress and encourage him. They were stroking his
dick and Amy noted that it was hard again.

"You know, I think you two should fuck. I want my Davy. You did fine, Tim,
for a first timer, she said as she pulled him off me, "but I need my man
RIGHT NOW!"

"Yes, ma'am."

Amy crawled forward and kissed her way up my body. Reaching my lips, she
whispered, "I love you so." That kiss was as good as a kiss can get. We
rolled around in ecstatic splendor. Our lovemaking was deep, singularly
exclusive and utterly immersed in passion. We made love like it was new
again. It was fireworks, waves crashing and rockets launching. It was that
good. My dick began to swell up and throb which caused Amy to grind down on
me and squeeze it with her vaginal muscles. We reached a slow climax and
when it was over, we were both beaming and supremely happy.

Tim broke the mood. "That was the most beautiful thing I think I've ever
seen. Laura, I hope that one day, we can make love like that."

"We're getting there, Timmy, we're getting there." We just smiled at them
as they crawled out of the bed and quietly made their way out. Amy and I
never moved and were sawing wood in a few minutes.

The next day, I figured I might get some funny vibe from Tim but I was
wrong. We met up with them at the airport as we were checking in for our
flight to Chicago.

"So, Tim. How are you feeling today?"

"Davy, I feel great. I mean, I really do. Last night I did something that
has been in the back of my mind for years but a secret, you know. Today, I
feel like that burden has been lifted and I'm glad my first time was with
you. I'm sure that I'll do it again but I'm also sure that the next time, I
won't be so nervous about it. I feel like I've overcome a major obstacle
and it feels good, it feels liberating. So, again, thanks, Boss."

"You're welcome, Tim. I'm glad that you're on this tour for several
reasons, First off, you and Laura are good together and that makes Amy and
I very pleased. She's good people and she deserves happiness. On another
score, you're making a good name for yourself among the other musicians. I
think that when the tour is over, you'll have quite a lot of business and
will be making good money..."

"Davy, you come first. I'm plenty happy working the studio and working for
you..."

"Sure, Tim, I appreciate that but even so, going on the occasional tour
will be good for you. And finally, I'm glad I was there for you last night.
By the way, you have some dick. Be careful that you don't trip over it. Try
to keep it stuffed in Laura, will you?"

We laughed and shook hands as we headed smiling toward the gate.

<b>Chicago</b>
...Dylan again. This time, he did a few songs with Los Lobos. Hearing them
do "From A Buick Six" was not only surprising but a virtuoso choice.
Hidalgo burned.

"I got this graveyard woman, you know she keeps my kid
But my soulful mama, you know she keeps me hid
She's a junkyard angel and she always gives me bread
Well, if I go down dyin', you know she bound to put a blanket on my bed.

Well, when the pipeline gets broken and I'm lost on the river bridge
I'm cracked up on the highway and on the water's edge
She comes down the thruway ready to sew me up with thread
Well, if I go down dyin', you know she bound to put a blanket on my bed..."

He also walked out to do a couple of songs with Tom Petty and The
Heartbreakers. The sound was completely different and inspired in a totally
unique way. He seems to be in great spirits tonight and I could watch him
play all night.

...I caught a piece of Umphrey's McGee and was very, very, very impressed.
They're a hell of a band. Phish was also impressive especially when they
covered my song, "Mighty Fine." But I also liked how they covered Little
Feat's "Fat Man In The Bathtub." That really kicked ass. Kenny Chesney did
a set tonight and while the audience dug it, I didn't. I mean, it was okay
but that's all it was, just okay. I mean, everyone is setting the bar
higher, why not go for it?

...Ry did a set tonight, too and that was one I really loved. He brought on
Mavis Staples to do a song, John Hiatt to do one, Buckwheat Zydeco to do
one and Willie Nelson to do one. I loved his set the best.

...My favorite experience of the night was an impromptu tribute to Steve
Goodman with Jimmy Buffett, John Prine, Bonnie Raitt and yours truly. We
did six songs trading off vocals, harmonies and riffs and I know Stevie was
up there smiling. When we walked off the stage, we all looked at each other
and nodded. We knew we nailed it. For me, it was an honor to sing "Somebody
Else's Troubles." The first time I ever heard Steve perform it, I knew that
he would always be inspirational to me.

"Yesterday I went downtown and saw an old-time picture show
And the hero got a pie in the face.
He didn't like that and he stormed around the screen,
But everybody else was laughin' in that place.

That's cause it ain't hard to get along with somebody else's troubles
And they don't make you lose any sleep at night
As long as fate is out there burstin' somebody else's bubbles.
Everything is gonna be alright.
And everything is gonna be all right..."

...got an email from Elon. He said that he's racking up the miles on Big
Chocolate and loving every minute of it. Every weekend, he heads off in a
new direction until he finds a place to crash for the night. The next day,
he works his way back to Menlo Park. I'm glad for him. He says that the
experience has given him a new perspective on the way bus should drive, how
it handles, what it needs and how to improve the amenities. I'm really
curious to see what he does to it although I don't think Amy and I will be
using it until after our baby has grown a bit. I mentioned this in my email
response to Elon and he said he would think of ways to make the bus
baby-friendly. Cool.

<b>St. Louis</b>
This night belonged to Allen Toussaint. His set seemed to set the tone for
the night. All of the other artists watched him from the wings with great
pleasure. Allan's beautiful demeanor gave us all a boost.

"Freedom for the stallion
Freedom for the mare and her colt
Freedom for the baby child
Who has not grown old enough to vote.
Lord, have mercy, what you gonna do about the people who are praying to you?
They got men making laws that destroy other men,
They've made money "God" and it's a doggone sin,
Oh, Lord, you got to help us find the way..."

I really felt Allen's music and for that reason, my set seemed to take on a
higher level of quality, if that's possible. I don't know if that is right
because I always try to give it my all. Still, we seemed to swing a little
more that usual and Stevie took off on an amazing duet/break with John
Sebastian. Amy's voice is as clear as the mountain air. Our set was really
up a notch higher and I'm worried that we cannot maintain that high...we'll
just have to see...each night is a new adventure...each one satisfying in
its own way...this is how we evolve.

...some other sets that were also excellent and I would be remiss if I
neglected to mention John Fogarty, Tom Petty, The Black Keys and Solomon
Burke. Again, King Solomon took us to church that night. His casual and
personal style made it all seem so effortless. Tonight, for me, was one of
the most entertaining and fulfilling shows yet.

...I picked up a strange vibe from S---. Her set was mighty strong and as
she came offstage, I congratulated her. She seemed overly pleased and a bit
touchy-feely. Amy says that she was coming on to me but I didn't get that.
I did think that, for someone I don't know, she was a little too
familiar...She's on the tour for a few cities so I'll have to watch and
take notes!

<b>New Orleans</b>

"Jockemo, Fee Na Nay.
Jockemo, Fee Na Hey.
Well, if you don't like what the Big Chief say,
It just be Jockemo, Fee Na Nay.

My Brother (Brother)
Brother John is gone
I say my Brother John (brother)
Brother John (Brother)
Brother John is gone.

Well I remember that morning I remember it well (Brother John is gone)
I remember the morning that Brother John fell
He was a mighty man with a heart of steel
And he never would bow and he never would kneel

My Brother (Brother)
Brother John is gone
I say my Brother John (brother)
Brother John (Brother)
Brother John is gone..."

Oh, how I love this town. It was Amy's first time here and as we had a few
days before the first show, I took her around town. I'm talking about
starting the day at Cafe Du Monde for Cafe au Lait and beignets, Mother's
for a Ferdie Special and some Rice Pudding, The Acme for some oysters,
K-Paul for some real gumbo, Jockimo's for some grill, Commander's Palace
for Bananas Foster and the best of them all, Bayonna for some of Susan
Spicer's world class cuisine. When Sally called and told her that we were
all in town, Spicer went out of her way to blow us away. What a chef! Ever
had a Lamb Chop covered in Maple Syrup and Pecans? Yum.

...Nights are spent jumping from club to club, from Midtown Rock'n'Bowl to
the Maple Leaf, from d.b.a to Carrollton Station (for Walter "Wolfman"
Washington), from the Howlin' Wolf to Snug Harbor, from Tip's to my very
favorite, Vaughn's to taste some Kermit Ruffins - his jazz, his barbeque
and one of his joints. What a pleasure this guy is - he is New Orleans...

...One night, we found ourselves on Bourbon Street for a couple of blocks.
You know that Amy, Sally, Laura and a female songbird who I cannot mention
(S---), had to show their tits for some beads. Strolling through the
Quarter, we picked up some powders, candles and gris gris at Erzulie's, a
Mac Rebennack recommendation. I also found myself in the Music Warehouse
where I signed some autographs. While there, I picked up a Lee Dorsey
collection, a James Booker cd, a Tin Men cd, a Jessie Hill collection and a
few more tasty treats.

...Our show in the Superdome had some of the finest musical moments in all
the tour. I had the great fortune to watch Sonny Landreth's set. That cat
is something else again. I just can't wrap my head around his technique. I
mean who the hell can pick behind the slide and get such true notes? There
were three standout moments with Sonny, First, during his encore, Ry Cooder
stepped on stage to go neck for neck on "Congo Square." Friends, it was
hellified, pure devil's music. The two masters pushed each other to limits
heretofore unseen and the crowd responded in kind. I don't think I've ever
broken into a sweat faster without exerting myself. It was one on those
performances that people will be talking about for years to come. The
second standout moment was when both Sonny and Michel Doucet surprised me
onstage by adding some sweet licks to "In The Key of Me" and then stuck
around to add their magic behind Amy on "Talk Dirty To Me." Mark was
absolutely ten feet above the stage as he jammed with them. Hearing the
slide and the violins twist and dance around each other was just this side
of cosmic. Man, would I love to have had that recorded.

After the show, a bunch of us cabbed it to Tipitina's for a little party.
Ivan Neville and Dumpstafunk's set was gritty, just the way it should be.
Allen Toussaint took the stage and played some hits while a rotating group
of all-stars backed him up. That's where my third Sonny Landreth experience
took place. I was listening to him jam with Leo Nocentelli when a guy next
to me said, "Where's the other guitar?" I looked at him confused and
pointed toward the stage. "No," he said, "I hear them but when Landreth
plays, there's another guitar playing. Is he off-stage?" Again, I was
confused. I pointed out that it was only Sonny and Leo onstage, Sonny on
slide and Leo on 'chunka-chunka'. "No, no man can play that many notes or
that many parts at once," he said. I politely explained that it was all
Sonny and there was no one else but this guy wasn't buying it. After the
show, I mentioned the story to Sonny, who got a big kick out of it and
suggested that he might have an evil twin. Since then, I call him "The
Sonny Brothers."

...The New Orleans shows were memorable. This is not to say that all the
shows aren't memorable, they are. Each show on this tour has had magical
moments but to me, the NOLA shows had the most. I mean, how do you describe
Allen Toussaint with Elvis Costello? Irma Thomas? Dr. John? Randy Newman
and Linda Ronstadt, alone and together? The Nevilles? A cajun/zydeco revue
with Buckwheat Zydeco, Terrance Simien, Michel Doucet and Rockin' Dopsie?
You can't. These are musicians at the pinnacle of their art who make their
music for themselves, first and foremost. It's funny but during these
performances, I felt uniquely American in that the art I heard could not
have been created anywhere else.

The show ended with some New Orleans fonk, some grits and gravy, and some
voodoo added to "Breadbasket." The song seemed to go on forever like some
spell had been thrown over us. Everyone was on stage and every one had to
step up for their moment - my favorite being Mac's riff. I need not tell
you how many smiles were in the house but teeth shone like spotlights.

...some other NOLA tidbits: Cyril Neville and I had a discussion about
food. Cyril told me to shake some fil&eacute; onto my windowsills to keep
ants out of the house...Irma beat me for $500 at poker backstage. She's
some poker player. In fact, she took everyone while her husband Emile
laughed and laughed...Mac had an argument with Coco Robicheaux as to where
the best po'boys could be found and they both had to agree that since the
original Uglesich's closed, there weren't any...Trombone Shorty Andrews,
Big Sam Williams, Matt Perrine and Kermit Ruffins started the show by
performing the Star Spangled Banner like I've never heard it before and
probably never will again...

...Back at the Windsor Court, we were way too exhausted to party. When you
are in New Orleans, you cannot help but burn the candle at both ends and,
indeed, that we did. You only live once, right? I mean, where else in the
world can you have a glass of cognac with Randy Newman at four in the
morning? And this was after a three hour recording session at Audiophile
with a cast of the best players on the planet. What a town.

...Amy also mentioned that she thinks S--- was coming on to her and that
maybe S--- is feeling us out. Now that would make for an interesting
threesome!...

<b>Miami</b>
After the amazing Miami shows, the entire cast and crew had a few days off.
Richard Branson, a very unique individual, picked up the tab and flew us
all to Necker Island where we indulged in his hospitality. It turned out to
be an outstanding vacation for everyone. Besides the plush and extravagant
accommodations, it was the site of a wonderful event.

As we landed, Danny received a call. I was standing next to him at a urinal
as he relayed the information to me. It seems that his wife was killed in
an automobile collision. She was pulling out of Bal Harbour after another
one of her shopping sprees...She was on her cell phone with one of her
friends and never saw the semi as it barreled down Biscayne...Turning right
at the red light, it hit her full bore and smashed her and her Lexus into
oblivion. Danny hung up the phone and started to laugh uncontrollably.
Tears of joy were flowing from his eyes and I'd never seen him in this
condition. As they say, what goes around, come around.

As we walked out to the transport where Amy and Kathy were waiting, I
literally had to hold him up. Once inside, he couldn't speak. Red-faced and
roaring, he sputtered like a fool. Once at the resort, he began popping
bottles of champagne and filling glasses as he drank directly from the
neck. About two hours later, he corralled everyone down to the beach but
wouldn't tell anyone why. With Branson's help, there was a preacher on the
beach and in a wild and festive afternoon, Danny and Kathy were married. As
they walked down the red carpet laid in the sand, every one (and I should
add that we were all pretty drunk) sang "Here's Come The Bride." This was a
wedding none of us will ever forget.

Free from the paparazzi, we were all a little crazy. There were no bathing
suits in sight as we played in the waves. I got to ogle some new tattoos.
S--- made her move, too. Sally was talking about having a grand fuckfest
when S--- interrupted to invite herself in. Sally explained that it was a
very discreet group and that anything goes. This only made S--- more
excited. Later that night, after an amazing feast, Stevie, Sally, Tim,
Laura, S---, C---, Amy and I were getting fairly wiped on the torchlit
beach when the fun began. The weed and the drink was flowing and to say
that we were all very loose is to understate the obvious. A suggestion was
made to move the party to the hot tub off our bungalow. As we walked to it,
we could hear other parties going on at other bungalows. Anyway, we filled
the tub with bodies and soon got pretty liberal with our hands. Naturally,
Tim and his monster dick was the center of attention as the women all
wanted to feel it and play with it. He became a little flustered and needed
Laura to save him. That's when a discussion about bisexuality began. Sally,
with her loose tongue and wanton ways, bragged about how good it felt to
eat pussy and how much fun it was to watch men get it on with each other.
S--- and C--- both agreed with her and in no time, Sally was going down on
S--- and Stevie was going down on C---. We moved into the living room where
things got hot. S--- told Amy that she'd been lusting after us since we met
in St. Louis and so when S--- and Amy moved into a sixty-nine, I filled
S--- with my dick. Eventually, they flipped over and I pushed myself into
Amy while S--- licked my nuts. The room reeked of sex as different
combinations formed. Each woman had to try to mount Tim who, God bless him,
stayed hard for a long time. C--- got on all fours and sucked my off while
Stevie packed his ass. I'll tell you this, C--- sure can suck cock. I
dropped my first load into his mouth and he never lost a drop.

As it was an exhausting day, the party seemed to end a bit early and
couples drifted off to bed. S--- asked Amy if she could stay a little
longer. The three of us sat naked on our deck and snacked on a plate of
tapas. S--- told us how innocent and naive she was when she first became a
star. She said that being married to L--- was stifling until she learned
that he was bi and in the closet about it. Their marriage ended soon after
when he ran off with a musician in his band and she found herself hooking
up with members of her road crew. It was when she was on tour that she
first had her own bi experience with her hairdresser. Since then, she said,
she has had a few experiences but that, with her stardom, she is wary and
very picky about her partners. Most of the time, she explained, it was just
her and her fingers.

I asked her about the tattoo of a red snake that was coiled around one of
her nipples. She explained that she got it a few years ago as a way to
maintain her private sexuality. I didn't understand.

"When I perform, I wear sexy clothes, all frilly and fringed. I wear hot
lingerie but I have to paste my breasts into the bras because, with the
deep necklines, I don't want my tits to pop out. I like to maintain the
illusion of a lithe, sexy sprite and I'm careful not to show anything. My
pantyhose has opaque areas so nothing shows when I dance around. So the
snake is my way of knowing that my body is my own and not to be shared with
the rest of the world. My red snake is my secret. Also, as a side benefit,
it seems to make my nipple more sensitive."

I took her nipple into my mouth and felt it harden. Yes, I thought, these
nipples are very sensitive. It grew between my lips and I felt like a
suckling babe. Amy took the other and soon, S--- was pushing her breasts
out and moaning. She has very full and lush lips which seemed to make her
kisses more erotic. As Amy stretched out on the chaise, they rubbed their
vaginas together and kissed. I could not resist licking them both, running
my tongue from Amy's ass down to her taint, into her pussy, then into
S---'s pussy, across her taint and up into her asshole. The women moaned in
delight as my tongue traced its luscious path. I replaced my tongue by
positioning my cock between their pussies and sliding along their wet
slits. The sensation was divine and I couldn't hold back when my spunk
coated both stomachs.

S--- never left that night. We formed every possible combination two woman
and a man can attain. We awoke with the sun high in the sky and began all
over again. Stevie and Sally walked in from the patio and joined us. I
ordered breakfast for five and we dined nude while never stopping our sex
play. C--- stopped in puffing a huge spliff and joined the festivities. At
one point, the three women were in an oral triangle and the three men were
in the same. After swallowing C---'s salty load, we all fell asleep. Later,
we dressed and joined the entire entourage for a magnificent dinner. It
seemed obvious that each and every person had a well-fucked look. Every one
was very relaxed and happy. Especially Danny, who could not get that
shit-eatin' grin off his face.

...Two days later, a planeload of deeply tanned hedonists landed in
Atlanta. Someone yelled, "Are you ready to rock!" to which everyone roared
back. With the tour about to end, we were ready to rock again.

<b>Atlanta</b>
...comfortable weather driving down I-75...the plane landed late and we're
rushing over to the Dome for a sound check, then over to the CNN Center for
an interview and then back for the show. The Ritz-Carlton will have to
wait...

...I don't know what it is but I've never liked this town. Like Dallas,
this place has a weird vibe to it. I get a sense of something phony, almost
sinister here. I know that it must be me but I just can't put my finger on
it. Graham and Mark seem to sense my discomfort and are doing everything to
make me lighten up. I'll be fine when I hit the stage but I'll be better
when we leave for New York...

...(a little later)...The CNN interview was fun...Graham, Mark, Stevie
Nicks and Lady GaGa together..everyone seemed a little goofy and a little
too loose...now, we're in the limo being rushed over to the venue...I'm
feeling harried and must smooth out...I'm impressed by GaGa's ("call me
Angie") professionalism. She knows that she's riding a wave and she's
milking it now, she has plenty of time to develop some depth to her
career...

...(post-show)...This was a good show and yes, we were fine once we hit the
stage. This audience was more in tune with GaGa (a lot of glitz and
showbiz) and the other young artists than with us old farts but thankfully,
Willie Nelson and his bottomless bag of weed, lightened the load and
removed any edges. I thought that Lady Antebellum was okay but nothing
special, I was also a little disappointed in Alison Krauss, who I really
admire, and Robert Plant. I thought their set was workmanlike. I expected
more. I really liked Keith Urban's set, that cat is a hell of a showman. I
had a fascinating conversation with him before the show and was amazed by
the depth of his musical knowledge...I really liked Mumford and Sons. What
an interesting and novel sound these guys have...

When we got to the hotel, I sat down on the bed and passed out cold. In the
morning, I was surprised that I was undressed.

"Good morning, Mr. Sunshine. It's time to get moving, we have a plane to
catch. You've slept away the morning!"

"Gee, is it that late already? I really passed out last night."

"No kidding! It was tough to undress you, I had to get Sally and Stevie to
help me. You went out like a light but I guess you needed it. Are you
feeling okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good, baby, I guess it all caught up to me last night, that's
all. I'll feel better when we get to the big city."

"Well, put a move on it. The plane won't wait!"

I showered and dressed quickly and made it downstairs for the last limo.
Stevie, Sally, Mark and Deb were already inside when I jumped in.

"Did you have a nice beauty sleep, Tinkerbell?"

"Yes, thank you, Steven. But I don't know what you did to me last night, my
nuts are all knotted up!"

"Dude, I haven't seen you like that since that devastating acid trip in
Saugerties back in seventy."

"I don't know, Stevie, I think someone gave me some knock-out drops. I was
really out. I guess my 'get-up-and-go' just 'got-up-and-went!""

"You didn't look so good last night. We were worried about you," said Sally.

"I'm thinking that it was Willie's weed that did you in," added Mark.

"Could be...No, I'm all right. I guess these bones are feeling their age,
that's all. I'll be glad when I'm back in East Hampton."

The flight north was subdued and quiet. Quite a few people stopped by my
seat to see if I was okay. As the plane circled Idlewild and flew past the
skyline, I felt my energy rush and I felt excited to be nearing my old turf
again. Nothing puts a skip in your step like New York City.

<b>Back to New York</b>
For the next few weeks, we'd be based out of New York. The D.C. gig was
nearly two weeks away and so the plan was to stay at Mandarin Oriental for
a few days and then head out east to Emma's house. It was during our stay
in the city that Amy became preggers when my super-freeze-dried seed stuck
(however we wouldn't know for a while yet.) The rest of our time was very
busy and very fun - NYC can do that to you.

...Between interviews and photo ops, we had a few adventures. One was a
trip to Staten Island to visit The Mandolin Brothers. An insane collection
led by Grisman and Cooder boarded the ferry on a spectacularly blue sky day
and enjoyed the trip. It didn't hurt that B--- picked up some inky Jamaican
ganga of which we partook on the top deck. Danny had called ahead and
warned them that we were coming and I must say, they laid out the red
carpet. I played a D'Aquisto, and 1870 Martin and a Monteleone Radio Flyer
but didn't buy any of them. Instead, I bought a 1953 00-18 with the
sweetest tone ever, a 1959 Gibson J-50 with a big bottom sound and a 2009
Custom Shop Fender Tele "50's Relic" Thinline with a killer neck. In all,
I'd say that between all of us, Mandolin Brothers had a hell of a day. I
carried the Tele back with me but had the other axes shipped west. On the
ride back, several of us entertained the commuters with an impromptu "blues
cruise". I'm sure you read about it. I was all over Page Six.

The next day, the entire tour sailed over to Liberty Island where Bob Gruen
took a group portrait. The photo was a takeoff on his great John Lennon
portrait in that we all wore "New York City" tee shirts and posed under the
Statue of Liberty flashing peace signs. For many, it was their first visit
to the Lady of The Harbor and it was much fun...again enhanced by some Blue
Mountain herb.

...Before we left NYC for the Hampton's, I fulfilled a promise I'd made
months before. With a stretch limo filled with my friends, we drove up to
Bearsville for one of Levon Helm's Midnight Rambles. I need not tell you
that the music we shared was top-notch. Levon is such a great cat and a
warm host. The barn was filled with music lovers who were treated to a
great set. The Amys again knocked everyone out. I just love playing with
Larry Campbell, too. With Mark and Stevie, the music was way beyond fine.
After one song, I think it was Springsteen's "Atlantic City", Levon ended
the number with a deep, satisfying sigh and a huge smile. That really
summed up the evening.

On the trip home, I realized just how jaded we'd become. I mean, how else
can you describe opening the coldbox, pulling out an orangeade and getting
a blowjob in the backseat? Or am I just exaggerating? Nah!

...We spent several weeks based out of Emma's place in East Hampton. It's a
beautiful home on Further Lane with an historic pedigree insofar as it was
once owned by the writer, Ring Lardner. Jack had an inside line before it
was placed on the market and they bought it just before the market boomed.
Sitting on the wide front porch facing the ocean and working on my Sunday
Times puzzle was just shy of sublime. Having Andy and Angie running around
simply made it better.

Amy wanted to dine at Nick & Toni's and at Della Famina's (which we did and
we sat next to Steven and Cate Spielberg), I took her to my favorite
places: Turtle Crossing, Turnpike BBQ and Michael's. One afternoon, we
stopped into The Blue Parrot but since Rene Zellwegger, Jon Bon Jovi and
Ron Perelman bought it, it just wasn't the same as the old days when Lee
owned the joint and Bruce tended bar and all the local bubs hung out at the
'Cowboy Table' to shoot the shit. In fact, to be honest, The "New" Blue
Parrot depressed the hell out of me. I will always dislike Ralph Lauren for
fucking up my town by buying it up and filling it with his affected stores
and he ruined the Blue Parrot, too. Even his daughter's ditzy chocolate
shop blows. Before she moved into it, it was the local candy store where
you could take your kids to pick out penny candies before taking them to
the movies. Now, it's four fucking designer chocolates for ten bucks! What
pretentious bullshit!

Still, being back in East Hampton again was pleasure redux. I took Amy on a
tour as she had never been out here before. We drove up Stephen Hand's Path
and when I drove under the small railroad bridge, I was reminded of Virgil
The Frog-Boy. During the '70s and early '80s, spray-painted graffiti
appeared on the side of this bridge that read "Virgil is still the
frog-boy." Thereafter, the same message appeared in other places. No one
knew what this meant nor who Virgil was nor why he was a frog-boy, whatever
that meant, but the message brought smiles. It seemed to be on everyone's
lips for several years and it created a sort of commonality among the
locals. Driving under the bridge made me wonder about Virgil and I told Amy
the story.

We drove up toward Hard's Creek and I took her by my old house and as there
was no one home, I parked by the garage and took in the property. Standing
on the dock and looking out on Three Mile Harbor brought back all sorts of
memories, good and bad (mostly about losing the house in my divorce).
Living here was often like living in a National Geographic special with
wildlife all around me. The swans in the creek seemed to recognize me and
that brought me back to the moment. As I was pulling out of the driveway,
the owner returned. I introduced myself as having been a former owner of
the property and had stopped by for the nostalgia. He was quite angry and
became livid, threatening to call the police. I couldn't seem to calm him
down so I backed out and drove away. It seemed so sad to me that my
wonderful home was now possessed by an inhospitable lunatic. In the back of
my mind, I made a plan to buy the property from him and to return the house
to its proper energy level. The house needed an exorcism.

I drove Amy over to Settler's Landing and from there up to Sammy's Beach. I
recounted my happy times during the summer that John and Judy Belushi
rented nearby. In fact, I recounted many happy times to Amy - kayaking in
the harbor, Tony Duke's fireworks shows, teaching my kids to swim... Up on
Sammy's Beach, I was sorry that Santo was not there with us to revel on his
favorite stretch of sand. Amy was breathless as we stood on a dune and I
pointed out the sights from west to east: Hedges Banks where P. Diddy and
Donna Karen live, Jimmey's place on North Sea, Shelter Island, Greenport,
Orient Point, the Plum Gut, Plum Island, the Connecticut shoreline, Block
Island Sound, Gardiner's Island with it's little seventeenth century
windmill, Fireplace, Maidstone Park, the entrance to the harbor, Tony
Duke's former estate and back around to Sammy's Beach. There were sails in
full sheet out in the water and in the distance, the Mystic Whaler's twin
masts looked like a pirate ship. I conveyed the history of the place as we
stood under the warm sun and Amy understood why I loved it so much.

Driving toward Northwest Harbor, we passed Gail and Gina's house and I told
her how these two wonderful women helped rescue me after my divorce. Then
back down Cedar and into the village. On other days, I took her to Sag
Harbor, I took her into the Grace Estate Woods for a hike as deer rambled
around us, I took her past the fancy homes of the other rich and famous,
the movie stars and the artists, too. One day, we attended a party at
Julian Schnabel's home on the Montauk Bluffs. On another day, we had dinner
at his Stanford White home, Tick Hall with my old friend, Dick Cavett. The
view of the ocean from up on the cliffs was as beautiful as one can
imagine. We stood alone holding hands watching the surfers below and the
endless ocean beyond.

"Davy, this place is paradise. I understand the bond you have. Why don't we
buy a place out here. We can be near Emma and Jack...and one day soon,
Angie can babysit."

"I like the way you think, love. I can't tell you how many new songs are
rolling around my brain since we got here. This environment has always been
in the key of me."

Our time on the East End was blissful. We spent our days barbecuing, or
driving around or just playing with the kids. Several times, Emma and Amy
went shopping in all the ritzy stores between East Hampton and Southampton.
Some nights, we hung out at the Talkhouse. Several times, I jammed with my
old friends, Klyph, Nancy, Jimmy and Neil. When there was a tour city we
had to get to, we flew by private jet from East Hampton Airport and each
time we did that, we had to pass the Animal Rescue Fund where Santo and I
rescued each other. It's always made me smile.

On one long weekday stretch between cities, Emma and Jack left us alone.
Making love under the warm moonlit night as the waves crashed just beyond
the dune was about as romantic as it can possibly get. I had this
revelation one night after an extended bout of making out, smooching and
gourmet lovemaking. Amy was stretched out on the bed, naked and napping.
I'd also passed out for a while and when I awoke, my head was at her feet.
I opened my eyes to see her puffy vagina smiling happily at me. I gazed at
her beauty and thought about whether the little egg was incubating within.
Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with a mixture of love, protectiveness and then
jealousy. Yes, jealousy. I was jealous that there was only so far I could
go to understand and feel what she must be feeling. The pregnancy was hers
and hers alone; I was more spectator than participant. I was feeling "womb
envy" and, while it might seem disturbing, it was, to me, exhilarating and
even a little liberating. I made a promise to myself that I would try to
share as much of the experience as could be possible. Naturally, I would
participate in all the Lamaze classes and preparations as I had done with
my other children but this time, I would try to get as close as Amy would
allow and could feel comfortable with. This baby could never physically
spring from me but perhaps I could capture some of that emotionally
fulfilling joy. I moved up to the head of the bed, covered us up, wrapped
my arms around her and fell blissfully back to sleep.

During another off week, we brought Stevie, Sally, Mark and Deb out with
us. One day, after a fabulous luncheon at Danny's amazing Norman Jaffe
designed home on the ocean in Sagaponack, we went back to Emma's and we all
ended up naked and fucking in the pool. What a way to live. Am I right?

...Jimmy's benefit show in Montauk was fun and a lot of money was raised
for the Wounded Warrior's but I had more fun on the Friday night before the
show. A bunch of us decided to show up at The Stephen Talkhouse for an
impromptu jam. The small crowd of one hundred (that's all the place holds)
were thrilled when Jimmy, Billy, Mick, Garland, Paul and I hit the stage.
I'd alerted some of my old musician friends to be there with us and it
tickled me to have Klyph, Gene, Nancy, Jimmy and Mama Lee up there with us.
Mark fell right into this blend organically. How we all fit on that little
stage was a trip but we jammed like it was all new to us and we put on a
great show. Thank God, Drew stepped in to handle the sound. For our final
number, "Johnny B. Goode", I got Peter, Phil and Nick on stage and, to me,
it was like old times. I'm certain that the pictures that ended up all over
the web attest to that. Also, it felt so good to be back.

The Wounded Warrier Ride Benefit was cool but in a different way. It was a
perfectly sunny Montauk day. The audience, seated on hay bales in a large
semi-circle around the stage, got an arena-type show and paid top dollar
for the privilege. Amy and I thought the audience was strange. Privately,
we shared a sense of separation from the audience, as if we were all
spectators to each other. Did their wealth overcome their zen? When we were
onstage, I advised Amy to 'be here now' and our sets rocked. For my part,
"America", led by Paul with Billy on piano, Mick on bass and Mark and I,
was sublime. That track alone made the benefit a success.

<b>Washington</b>
Of all the shows, this one was the most prestigious. In the days before the
show, most of us spent time walking the halls of Congress and badgering any
elected official we could pigeonhole into doing more for the homeless and
hungry. Fortunately, the press did a fine job of helping us state our case
as well as publicizing our effort. I like to think that we were making a
difference.

On the day before the show, many of us spent several hours touring the
White House with the First Lady as our guide. I sheepishly admitted that it
was second time there, the first having been at the request of President
Nixon (I should admit that during that visit, I burned a roach in the
bathroom!). The day culminated with a very relaxed informal dinner and an
acoustic jam session. I must unfortunately report that the President cannot
sing a lick.

Since this show was to be televised around the world, all the big names
were there to perform. And while it made for good TV, for me, it was a long
day. I spent large parts of it in my trailer behind the stage watching the
video feed as they came in from different parts of the country. I enjoyed
the thrill of the event and appreciated the President's kind words, but
even as I stood in front of the mass of people on the Mall, I felt removed.
Graham felt this too. It took Mark to remind us that this was the moment we
had wrought and that we should revel in the moment. BE HERE NOW! He was
right, of course and his words, plus a healthy dollop of superb Willie
Nelson herb, helped a lot.

Amy also made the day easier. Right after the President spoke, he was
whisked away. Amy pulled me aside and said she had to speak to me
immediately. She pulled me into our trailer and locked the door.

"Is something wrong? Is there something I should know?"

"Yes, there is. You have to know that I am very proud of you and that I
need your hard cock in me right now!"

You know the saying, "If this van's a-rocking, don't come a knocking,"
right? Well, let me just say that as we left the van, we were greeted by a
large ovation from our peers. Ronstadt called me "The Man Of The Year."
(After the tour ended, she presented me with a mock-up Time Magazine cover.)

...This show had all the makings of an historic event. Several Presidents
spoke about ending poverty and blah, blah, blah. I was glad that we had
exceeded all financial goals and the Food Pantries were filled but it was
the people that had done that, not the politicians...Bruce's performance
was off the hook. You go through stages with him: When the show begins, you
smile because you remember what Rock used to be. Then, you begin to get
swept up in his energy and you know that this is the essence of Rock.
Finally, you get lost in the Rock and you are a disciple. You've seen the
light. Adding many celeb duets made the show even more exciting as stars
traded fours. Dylan was the highlight. I got to sing "Wet Yet?" with Bruce
and The E Street Band and I don't think I ever had more fun with that
song...JT and Carole! What can I say. When I sang backup for Carole as I
had long ago, she looked at me with a knowing look and the sound we made
was cosmic. When JT joined us, it was like Greenwich Village in the early
'60s all over again...Bettye killed. Maybe the hottest set of the day...We
took a large group picture with the Presidents. Mark and Deb, Amy and I,
Danny and Kathy and Graham were next to the Presidents. It will be framed
on my wall. There is another picture of us onstage It was shot from behind
us looking out to the Washington Monument and a sea of people. Whew!

...The next morning, I got up before Amy if you can believe that. She
snored away the morning and awoke at noon. She didn't look right. She
looked different somehow. I pampered, massaged and bathed her until she
came back into the zone. The excitement of the day before had drained her
totally but now she regained her perspective.

<b>New York Again</b>

These show's were excellent. Perhaps it is the pressure of playing in The
Big Apple but here, the performance's shown. Perhaps, it was the release
from the Washington show that let the performers flow. Springsteen was
amazing and his duet with Dylan was even better than at the L.A. or
Washington shows. I really enjoyed their duet on Pete Seeger's "Eyes On The
Prize."

"Paul and Silas bound in jail
Had no money to go their bail
Keep your eyes on the prize
Hold on

Paul and Silas thought they was lost
Dungeon shook and the chains come off
Keep your eyes on the prize
Hold on

Freedom's name is mighty sweet
And soon we're gonna meet
Keep your eyes on the prize
Hold on

I got my hand on the gospel plow
Won't take nothing for my journey now
Keep your eyes on the prize
Hold on..."

...There's a story I have to tell about the New York shows. I knew a secret
that I could not share. I'd received a call a few days earlier from Eric
Clapton's manager asking if it would be all right if Eric made a surprise
appearance insofar as he wanted to show his support for our tour. Would it
be alright? I damn near shit. How could it not be alright? The deal was
that Eric would come down to the sound check at the Garden and would find a
place to step in but I was not allowed to leak it to anyone.

So, here we are at the sound check and because it was just about the end of
the tour, everyone was pretty loose with band members intermingling on
songs. After several hours of different band setups, a bunch of us started
to jam. On the stage around me was Donald Fagen and Walter Becker, Sonny
Landreth, John Mayer, Billy Gibbons, Levon Helm, Keltner, Cooder, Billy
Joel, horns, singers, oh, God, it was a full house of magic. I left to take
a leak and as I was returning, Eric walked in. Eyes were rolling backstage
and I put my finger to my lips. I walked on stage and picked up my Tele. I
joked to the players that we should just riff on an oldie and I started to
play the riff of "Sunshine Of Your Love." Right away, Fagen started to lay
down a very funky jazz groove and the song began to develop. Sunny and
Walter got into a very hot riff when the sound of Clapton's guitar came
dancing in. Sunny picked up on it immediately and began to chuckle. As Eric
walked onto the stage, everything amped up. It was like a guitar army had
just invaded with each feeding artist off each other and rolling toward the
front lines. Nash and Leon Russell led the singers into funked up vocal
part. I mean, this was fucking it, this was the final word, I mean,
fuggetaboudit.

When we'd finally beat the song into submission, everyone onstage was
screaming. Everyone was begging Eric to let us do it again during the show
but, while thrilled at what had just gone down, he seemed to brush us off.
It was when Bruce Springsteen, Paul McCartney and Bob Dylan made the case
to him that he agreed to come on during the encore and join a superstar
band performance of the song. From that point, we referred to it as "The
Wandering Dingleberrys" number.

Naturally, that night, it destroyed the crowd and made for one of most
exciting events anyone can remember. As the curtain lifted, I announced
that we wanted to try something a little different. I announced each star
as they took their place on the stage. We set it up like a big "Wall of
Sound" - all the bassists here, all the keyboards here, singers here, a
line of percussion in the back. Fagen started to lay down a very funky yet
unrecognizable riff. Springsteen took the mic and told a story about
driving through Asbury Park when he was a kid and hearing a song on the
radio, a song that changed his life. Steve Van Zandt picked up Fagen's riff
and danced over it. Gibbons, Neil Young and I began to "chucka-chucka" as
Sunny and Ry began to slither and slide. Soon the band/orchestra behind
Leon and Billy morphed into the familiar strains and began to pick up
speed. Springsteen narrated as he led each section in. Suddenly, he
screamed, "Guitars!" and he began the classic riff. One by one, each
guitarist stepped forward and riffed off it culminating in Eric walking
onstage and bingo, that was it, a pure show-biz explosion. I will never
again hear an audience sound like a million firecrackers ever again. Later
on, Eric would say that it was the most fun he'd ever had playing "that old
war horse."

I must hand it to McCartney. After we ended, there was no way we could walk
off stage leaving the audience so insanely wound up. Paul called for "Let
It Be" and made a short speech about 'doing the right thing." He started
the song solo and let Billy Joel take the second verse. Everyone fell right
into place. Leon Russell took a verse and morphed it into "Hey Jude" and
that's how we ended the show, 'na-na-na-nah'-ing with the audience. Just
the vision of all those stars singing that line and rocking from side to
side was, for me, rock and roll heaven. As we made our way off, we could
hear the crowds still singing on their way out. As I like to say, we are
all fans.

...I must add that backstage, in my dressing room before the show, Amy and
I had our first quickie. What happened was, I told her that I had to go to
the bathroom and asked her if she would hold my dick while I peed. Her eyes
brightened and she pulled me to our dressing room. I locked the door and we
walked into the bathroom. I locked that door, too. I picked her up - or she
straddled me - and I pushed her against the door. Dropping my drawers and
pulling her panties off was a helluva trick but finally I was deep in her
twat. We only lasted five minutes. My banging was furious and she was
sucking me in like a Dyson. Suddenly, I arched my back and shot severeal
salvos broadside. I don't know where it came from but it sure was quick. I
felt Amy squeeze her vagina and pull my cum into her. With a fingers
dancing over her clit, she began to pant. Her orgasm quickly followed as I
felt her grasp my biceps and start to shake. She gushed over my cock and
onto our legs before releasing me. We had a good laugh against that door.

"I thought you had to pee?" We showered quickly while she held my cock and
I peed into the shower stall. We were dressed and out of the dressing room
in no time. I assumed that we weren't missed until I saw Mark and Deb leave
their dressing room smiling.

"It took me five minutes," I said.

"You da man. That's all it took Deb. Me, I sawed for ten minutes." Then we
both saw Danny and Kathy come out of their dressing room with big
shit-eating grins. That's when we all lost it.

<b>Boston</b>
This was a good way to end the tour, especially after the ultimate high of
the New York shows. World Series fever was heating up and the Red Sox were
in the thick of it battling the Yankees, of course, for first place. The
city was manic with excitement and the entire tour line-up was offered the
chance to sing the national anthem before the game. Fenway was insane that
evening but when all the musicians were announced and we ran toward the
mics set up around home plate, the noise level in that little bandbox
exploded. As each artists name was announced, the roar increased.
Naturally, local favorites like James Taylor, J. Geils, Tom Scholtz and
Mark Wahlberg got the loudest cheers, the cheers were truly deafening when
the Sox and the Yanks joined us on the field. The singing was so loud, I
couldn't hear myself and that's a fact.

The show took place on the next night and the intensity was tremendous.
Yankees and Sox players acted as hosts and I'm sure that helped pump up the
crowd. It was good to see the players interact with each other reminding
everyone that after all, Baseball is just a game. I think their handling of
the crowd made all the performances better in that the quiet songs were
listened to and well received and the louder songs enhanced the party
atmosphere. Personally, I love to hear audiences singing along. On mellow
tunes, it adds a texture to the sound. Amy says that it sounds like the
songs are wrapped in velvet and I can certainly relate to that.

Perhaps because this was our final show on an immensely successful and long
tour, the artists all crossed over into each other's sets. Simon,
Garfunkel, Taylor and Nash were particularly excellent. Simon, Stills,
McCartney and Harper was fun (especially the medley of "Bridge Over
Troubled Water/Let It Be"). Buddy Guy, John Meyer, J. Geils, and Ry Cooder
were especially hot. For me, the magical set was Amy Bieler Harper, Amy Ray
and Amy Helm, as "The Amys", leading the audience in "Amazing Grace". Talk
about chicken skin. This was a very fine way to end the tour - even better
than "Breadbasket" which had become shtick to me. As we said our goodbyes,
lots of hugs were squeezed and quite a few tears were shed. I know that for
me, as well as for many other artists, this was the tour to end all tours.

We flew back to New York for a few days and spend the time with my girls.
Angie and Amy seemed to develop a magical bond. While there, George called
asking us to meet him at his home in Laglio on Lake Como and so, like on a
lark, we made the trip over.

George and Sarah were the perfect hosts. Villa Oleandra is a beautiful
place and the serenity was just what we needed. During one sunny day,
George took around the Lake in his vintage Riva. Just the scent of the
place had a calming affect. One night, we went to the Villa d'Este
Cernobbio for an extravagant gastronomical feast. It's easy to put on a few
pounds in Italy. On a shopping trip with Sarah, Amy bought me a beautifully
inlaid madolino. One night, while sipping cognac on the terrace, George and
I talked about everything under the sun: music, film, art, politics, you
name it. He's a very smart man and I enjoy his company. On another night,
he let me read a further draft of his script and while I enjoyed the drama
of it, it made me a little queasy to read some of my words and anecdotes.
Our trip ended too soon and we headed back to New York and a few more days
with my kids before heading on to Aspen. I would say that we were both well
rested and it was a perfect way to finish our travels.

<b>Home Again</b>
Santo was overjoyed to see us. He jumped up high to kiss me and I caught
him in my arms. I hugged him tight as he washed my face. He was so excited,
he just ran around in circles, whimpering and letting out happy little
yips. For the next few days, he was my shadow. At night, he jumped into our
bed and slept (and farted) at our feet. I noticed that he was slowing down
a step or two. Such a good dog. Such a buddy.

Big Chocolate sat off to the side of the driveway. There was a note
attached to the front door that read, "Do Not Enter! At least not until I
show you around! Elon". About a week after our return, Elon and Susan
showed up and Elon was so excited to show us the renovations, we had to
drag him inside the house first. But he could not be contained and soon, he
was showing it off.

"First off, I changed all the batteries into these new Korean ones with
Tesla specs. They hold more juice, they take less time to juice up and
they're a little lighter than the others. They're also easier to monitor
with the new dashboard display I installed. The gauges are a bit larger and
a bit brighter but they have a bit of a retro "Harley" look that I like.

I changed the carpeting to an easier-to-clean yet more bouncy feel. I also
ran the carpeting up along the floor moldings. I also changed the galley
appliances...the stove is more efficient and the microwave is more
powerful. I also added a more powerful washer/dryer. You see, I'm thinking
"baby" here, Davy. With the baby in mind, I reconfigured the bedroom
layout. You've lost some living room space but gained a bedroom alcove for
a crib. I also installed a layette in the bathroom. Let's see...let's
see...there are new and larger HDTVs...a few more speakers and a more
powerful amp...iPod adapters...hmmm...oh, dig this...in the console next to
the cockpit, I added a coffee warmer next to the cold box...down in the
storage bay where the mics and the P.A. resides, you'll find a larger, more
powerful telescope...and here's the best part. After driving Big Chocolate
around and loving every minute, I decided to build a 'bigger' Chocolate.
When that's done, I'll swap with you and keep this for myself. Waddya say?"

"What can I say, Elon? It's a deal."

"Good. Consider it a good business move on my part. After all the great
press and especially the Vanity Fair piece, I have a few orders to custom
design some really big land yachts. One of them is going to run well over
$3,000,000.00. Ed is the consultant on all of them. It will be interesting
to see what we can do. But the truth is, Susie and I fell in love with this
bus. That may be why I replaced the mattress, too."

It will be some time before we venture out on the bus again so I insisted
that Elon and Sue drive it back and keep it for a while but he wouldn't
hear of it. In a sense, it worked out as I have several friends all
clamoring to borrow it. However, we have taken on a few local trips (like
back to Strawberry Fields) and we've also slept overnight in it.

...I've got all these things I have to catch up on. Shadow wants me to fly
down to L.A. to listen to his remixes at Shangrila but I think I'll bring
him here to listen to them. We can always recut any parts here and, at the
moment, I really don't feel like traveling. I'm needed here.

Tim and I also want to give the studio a work out. I know that in a few
months, Mark, Ma, Sebastian and some others want to do some recording.
Where better than here? They can help me tune the room. Plus, I have these
beautiful guitars here and lots of new songs. Nah, I ain't goin' nowhere.
(I think that title is taken.)

I want to catch up on all my business with all the songs now available on
iTunes and Amazon. I understand that I'm getting big play in Europe through
Spotify. So I want to sit down with Danny and see what's up. As far as I'm
concerned, this is all "found" money. I also want to catch up with YouTube
as there are a lot of tour performances online. But the quality can't
compare to the stuff that was professionally filmed which I hope makes it's
way into theaters (although HBO is probably where the film will end up.)
Wherever it finally lands, it will bring even more attention to the cause
and more money into the food pantry coffers. And that reminds me, I'm going
to have to fly down to L.A. for a board meeting about the tour proceeds.
Maybe I can phone it in.

And then there's our property acquisitions and restorations under the
Roadwarriors, LLC. banner. I'd like the 'fresh air' camp to proceed quickly
and that's my first priority. I've been looking at several requests to
acquire and/or fund some local properties that need restoration. And then
there's our little shopping mall near the airport. We're in talks with
several high-end niche stores. The plans look beautiful, too. So my plate
will be full for some time to come.

...Amy is busy interviewing doulas and nannies and a small house staff. I
met one girl and I knew that Amy would never hire her because she was just
too damn good-looking. After she left, Amy told me that while she seemed
very competent, her ass was just too fine to sashay around her house. I
called her a hypocrite.

"In my home, my ass has to be the best!" I couldn't agree more. Still, with
a vacation from sex for a while, it would be nice to taste some new tail.
Instead, I'll have to be content with blow jobs, jerking off and Stevie and
Sally. I can live with this.


As I sit beside a warm fireplace and look out at the fresh snow covering
the fields and the mountains, I think about all the blessings I have
received, especially in this past year. Yes, our bundle is coming. Each day
brings us closer to the delivery and all the new blessings he will bring. I
find myself thinking about my legacy to him and I am reminded of a
conversation I had with Mark one night soon after the Washington show. We
were talking about how it used to be back in the sixties and how it is now
that we are in our sixties. I recall that conversation this way:

"It was easier to mobilize people then. Our songs were 'calls to action'
and our audience responded. It's harder to get people to react today so, in
that sense, we've done a pretty good job on this tour. We did what we set
out to do which was raise money to fill the food pantries around the
country so our own hungry could make it through the day."

"Sure, but back then, it was easier because they had the draft and nobody
wanted to fight a pointless war and die. That fact made it easy to protest.
They'll never bring the draft back because they know they'd never get
reelected. So I'm saying that there's no one going for the throat...kids
today have to work hard to find a job just so they can survive."

"So, you're saying that unless there's a war going on, people can't be
motivated?"

"Sure, to some extent, that's true. It's got to be knocking on their door
for them to get up and answer it. But what is our purpose, really? It isn't
always to get people to act politically although it might be sometimes. Our
job is to create our art. We're not in our twenties anymore and we can't
get twenty year olds to man the barricades. That's over. It's up to the new
twenty year olds to pick up the torch...we can only pass it to them."

"I agree. I play fiddle. That's what I do. It's sort of like, sometimes, I
play loud and other times I play soft. Sometimes I use my drawing power and
my artistic gift to help to spread a message, but that's just the bonus of
celebrity, nothing more. What I do is make music and I am glad there is an
audience. You know, when I first got this calling and went on this
adventure called 'music', it was to satisfy myself. Your music must satiate
you first.  Because only by satiating ourselves can we truly inspire
others. I'm the same way now, all these years later, but it took you to
remind me. You told me, "You don't give people what they want, but what
they need...and they don't even know that they need it!" And that's our
legacy."

"Exactly. And we're lucky in that regard. Our music is recorded for
posterity so our legacy will live on. Whatever we do politically is for the
here and now and will be forgotten. Our music will go on."

Mark was right. The music lives on and that is the legacy we leave to the
future. It was good then, it is good now and it will still be good years
from now. One hundred years from now, perhaps some of my songs will gladden
a heart or two. If anyone cares to explore my life any further, I hope they
will discover that here was a guy who not only made music and expressed his
soul through his art but also lived and loved with a passion and a gusto
and a humility for his place in the here and now. And shared that love!

The next time I write to you, it will be all about our new baby boy. Life
will change but as good as it is, it will only get better.

-------------------------------------

Thanks for your nice comments and encouragement to keep the story going.
Please vote on how you like it. Any names and persons used in this story
are purely coincidental, fictional, nonexistent and utterly intentional.
Send your comments to oldhippie1949@gmail.com. Thank you. All lyrics
copywritten and used as a tribute: "Cleaning Windows", Van Morrison., "From
A Buick Six", Bob Dylan., "Somebody Else's Troubles", Steve Goodman.,
"Freedom For The Stallion", Allen Toussaint., "Brother John", Cyril
Neville, Earl King, Traditional., "Eyes On The Prize", Traditional, arr.
Pete Seeger. copyright2017 The Ol' Hippie