Slap, bap, frap. Bug juice everywhere. They fly around like those aircraft mid-air refuelers, stuck together and you just can't get them off. Finally, when we were almost to Stuart, Paul and I gave up and went to a car wash.
He and Hank started with the hand scrubbers...
Paul prepped the windshield
Believe it or not, it was my first car wash. We got the deluxe.
We stocked up on healthy snacks, and made it to Stuart without further incident.
Love this place. Rapt awesome crowd, and we got to hang out with Glen Phillips again. "Sweetest Angel" had us all in tears. There's nothing like singing with Glen.
Even Kona, after she did some paperwork, loved the show...
This morning, in fine form as ever, Paul and I sought out strong coffee. Luckily we have a GPS now. We call her "Jacqueline," and she tells us in French where the nearest Starbucks is. "Restez a droite" she coos, and there, blessedly, one mile from our motel, my quadruple, whole milk, DRY cappucino.
Paul wore his fuzzy slippers, even though it's probably 90 degrees and 100 percent humidity. Like he always says, "I'm just trying to fit in."
And remember, in the words of Michael Franti, "All the Freaky People Make the Beauty of the World." Get your slippers on and come on down.