On the Friday before Thanksgiving break, we teachers--Mr. Stephenson, Dr. Erwin, and I, turned back into Scott, Keith and Bon(FIYAH) and left directly from school for California. We drove 30 hours straight through--from canefields to cowfields, all the way to Califor-nigh-ay, yes indeedy.
We showed up ragged at Alex and Jeff's house in one of those concrete-and-beachy-beach cities south of L.A. I hit the sack pronto, but the boys started laying down the funk as soon as I got curled up for a good 12 hour shut-eye. Jeff's jazzychillman drumming, Alex's deepgroove bass, and Scott's lickable guitar licks got my flute so hot and bothered it started yelling at me through three shut doors to get up out the bed and blow it right damn now. So not five minutes down, I upped and did. Sleep can suck funk's blue notes.
In sum, California rocked.
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