Davy's on the Road Again

Davy's On The Road Again, Ch. 13

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. --------------------------------------------------

"Roll up! Roll up for the mystery tour. Roll up! Roll up for the mystery tour. The Magical Mystery Tour is dying to take you away, Dying to take you away, take you today!"

San Francisco is a cool town. I've always liked it. During the cab ride up to the concert, my eyes drifted past streets and areas that hadn't changed much since my salad days when I was just a step up from the hippies who hung out in the Haight-Ashbury District. It brought back lots of memories and of course, partial images because my head was pretty much in the clouds back in those days, literally and figuratively.

As we passed near the Embarcadero area, I was reminded of an event in my life that took place nearby and I related the story. "On this particular day in 1969, I was straight and cruising through the streets with Stevie, Lenny and a couple of guys in the band. We were going nowhere in particular that I can recall when we passed alongside an old building. Suddenly I stopped because a strange feeling surged through me. I told the others that I had this odd sensation that I had been there before although I knew that this wasn't so...sort of what Joseph Heller called jamais vu. I began to relate some history of that particular spot; about how there once was a hotel that stood on that spot before the great fire; about how I'd played cards and drank whiskey there with my friends, including Mark Twain. As we turned the corner, there was a bronze plaque on the wall of the building that described a hotel that once stood there and whose denizens included Mark Twain, Jack London and Ambrose Bierce, among others. My friends were as astonished as I. Anyway, over the next few hours, I led them on a tour of San Francisco before the fire and vividly described buildings, events and personalities of that time. I was as though I was channeling some ghost and he was speaking through me. After a few hours of this, it suddenly disappeared and I was lost, completely bewildered and unable to remember much of what I had done. The others filled me in and, as if in some mystical haze, we found our way back to the apartment where we were staying. I chalked it up to some drug flashback but I didn't forget about it. A few months later, when I returned back east, I went to the library and took out some books about old San Francisco. One book was a biography of the author, Ambrose Bierce and another was his collected short stories. As I read the short stories, they all seemed familiar to me and I knew how each one ended well before I got there. This was really strange to me because Bierce's stories all had ironic, trick endings. Then I read the biography and I learned that he was born one hundred years to the minute before my birthday. The biography also described many of the places and events I had described to my friends during my mystical tour guide adventure. I'd never read this book before! It really shook me, but I realized that I had channeled Bierce or vice verse. Even now, it gives me the willies! But it really happened. I betcha Stevie could give a more accurate description of that event."

The others listened raptly as I related my adventure and the all shook their heads in wonder. Really, what could you say about something like that except that there are things in this world that are incomprehensible. Fortunately, we didn't have to think about it anymore because the cab pulled up to the Palace of Fine Arts. The women took a walk into the Presidio as Mark and I surveyed the outdoor seats, the stage, the view and the entire ambience of the place. People were testing mic placements and we walked around the venue listening to the sound system. Orchestra musicians were arriving and setting up as we walked down to the stage.

"Davy, I'd like to bring you up for the encore. We can do two songs and I figure that "Breadbasket" closes the show with you giving a spiel. How does that sound?"

"It sounds cool. Can we do them as a trio with Ma? I'd love to play with him."

"Sure. I think he'd be amenable to that. I'm going to run through the orchestra now and I'll bring you up for a run-thru and sound check after that."

"Great. Now you go get 'em, Mark. Make them sound as sweet as your fiddle."

Mark worked with the orchestra for about a half hour and it was going very well. Yo Yo Ma showed up around then and the sound improved dramatically. I think the chamber orchestra felt the pressure of working with such superlative musicians and it brought out their best. Mark worked extra on the concerto but, as I knew, he had no problem with the orchestra's support, they were as into it as he. He called for a break and came out to me.

"So how does it sound?"

"Sonically, the system sounds fabulous at all points around the venue, including near the water. Artistically, I think you could replace the horn section."

"Cute. There is no horn section."

"See?" Yo Yo Ma joined us and Mark introduced us. "I was just telling Mark that the First Cello sounded a little shaky."

"I agree, Mr. Harper. Maybe he'll buy me a drink." We laughed and sat down in the front row.

"Seriously, Mark, it sounds wonderful. The concerto has a beautiful texture. I bet you could play it in your sleep."

Ma suggested that in the final movement, they make the decelerando a little more dramatic. They looked over the score and selected the measure in which to begin the slowing down. That settled, they wanted to discuss the encores.

"First off, I want to say how excited I am to play with both of you in this setting. I've never played in a classical setting and the opportunity to bring my music to this audience is a wonderful opportunity. Now Mark and I discussed "Breadbasket" as the final number. I'm torn as to the other number. Also, Ma, none of these songs are particularly difficult or unusual and so I'm certain that it will be easy for you."

"Davy, it's what we bring to it and how we express it that makes the music, you know that."

"What are you split on?" asked Mark.

I took my guitar from the case. "I was thinking that I could join the two of you on a traditional jig or waltz and we could just cast an acoustic spell - no lyrics. But then a song came into my head that I would just love to hear us play. You know, an old acquaintance of mine, Bobby Charles, passed away and there's a song of his that is so gentle, so fragile and so tender, it would beautiful to hear us blend...do you know "Tennessee Blues?" Here, let me play it." I played it for them and both wanted to try it out immediately. We stepped onto the stage and I began to pick and sing.

"If I had my way I'd leave here today, I'd leave in a hurry, I'd find me a place where I could stay, And not have to worry,

A place I could use,

A place I could lose the Tennessee Blues."

They came in as I began the refrain and it made me shudder.

"I'd find me a spot on some mountain top, ...A place I could use,

A place I could lose these Tennessee Blues."

We took a break. Mark added a soulful bluegrass lament as Ma's cello curled around it and then took the lead. They were dancing together and I was the beat. As they moved toward the verse, I picked a counter riff and the three of us walked into the verse smiling.

"I'd try to forget all my regrets, I'd keep just the good times, ...A place I could use,

Someplace I could lose these Tennessee Blues."

We ended the song in the same manner as we ended the break and we all nodded to each other.

"I knew you guys would nail it. That was fucking beautiful."

"I think I remember Bill Monroe doing it and I sort of referred to him," said Mark. "That was so sweet. I have an idea. We can do that song second. First, we can do something like "Orange Blossom Special..."

"Mark, I was thinking something more like "Ain't Misbehavin'," suggested Ma.

"Oh yeah, I like that. Let's try it. We'll start it and Davy, you come in with the melody."

They began to play and it reminded me of Stephane Grappelli and Django Reinhardt. As they swung out of the intro, I added a Django flourish and began to pick the melody in his style. When we ended, we all broke into laughter and high-fives. That was a keeper. I quickly ran through "Breadbasket" and the show was set. We broke for dinner just as the women returned.

The concert was a joy from the first note. I loved sitting in the audience between Amy and Deb. It was a very different feeling for me. Completely sold out, the audience was enthusiastic and the outdoor setting added a relaxed and festive air. Mark was a wonderful host and the orchestra followed each nuance he and Ma added. By the time he reached the encores, it was already a full and satisfying evening.

When he and Ma returned for the encore, he addressed the audience. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I have a friend I would like you to meet. He has an interesting effect upon me. He's an inspiration and a catalyst as well as a consummate musician and artist. Without any further embarrassing chatter, please welcome my friend, Davy Harper."

I walked out to polite applause as Mark and Ma opened "Ain't Misbehavin." It worked perfectly and this time, we all added more to it, giving it a real Hot Club swing. We ended it with a wild coda and the audience went nuts. Inside, I was having a major kvell - I had turned on a classical crowd...and with swing jazz! Wow!

"Oh, that felt sooo good. My thanks to Mark O'Flannery and Yo Yo Ma for allowing me to share you with them. As a musician, I can only say that is what's it's all about. I hope you enjoyed it as much as we did. (Much applause) Now, before the show, I suggested this tune by the late songwriter Bobby Charles and these two cats nearly brought me to tears. Let's see if they can do it again."

I began "Tennessee Blues" and they walked in like welcome guests. Having played the song earlier, they added a depth I hadn't heard before. This time the song was even more bittersweet; we were like three old relaxed pickers sitting in rockers on the front porch. They made my singing even more heartfelt and soulful. During the break, it sounded like an authentic bluegrass weeper and when I returned to the final verse, my voice broke on the first word bringing a certain anguish or dolefulness to it. I have to admit, the affect of the three of us was simply gorgeous and the audience appreciated it, showering us with a standing ovation.

Ma turned to me and whispered, "Mark is right about you. You bring everything up a notch. Thank you."

I was stunned by his comment and it took me a moment to recover as the applause died down. Mark saw my discomfort and took the mic. "As some of you may be aware, Davy and I are part of a movement to fill the shelves of Food Banks and Food Pantries around our state. This summer, we, with some famous friends, will extend our cause around the nation. It is imperative that this nation, the most bountiful on the planet, feed it's poor and unfortunate and help them through these difficult times. By doing this, we are stronger for it. Davy wrote this song in five minutes and we have adopted it as our anthem. Please, when you leave the concert tonight, make a vow to go online and make a donation to your local food bank. It's just a little thing to do but it will go far...Davy?..."

I started "Breadbasket" and the three of us played with a vigor and a determination I had not heard in the song before. During the extended break, Mark made reference to Irish music, Ma made reference to Asian music and I answered with Mexican flavors. We resolved these airs into pure Americana and moved into the third verse almost proudly, with a cockiness. As the song ended, Mark played the last line of the "Star Spangled Banner" and we ended to roaring approval, cheers and, in an impromptu emotional celebration, confetti. We bowed and left the stage. The audience continued to cheer and call for more but Mark pointed out that there was a curfew for outdoor shows and we had already passed that a while ago. He suggested that instead they could get tickets to see John Sebastian at Zallerbach Hall, UC Berkeley, where we'd be sitting in. As a consolation, we walked into the audience to shake hands and sign autographs. It was a nice touch and the audience loved it.

When the crowd finally dispersed, the three of us stood together for some photographs. I thanked them both for allowing me into their space. Ma told me that earlier in the day, he'd had a conversation with our mutual business manager, Danny. Danny had asked him if he might want to take part on some dates of the summer tour and maybe even record with me. Ma told Danny he would wait to see how this evening's performance went since we had never played together. Now, Ma said, he enthusiastically wanted to participate. I told him how honored I was and hugged him. Mark and I were beaming as Amy and Deb finally made it over to us.

"That was as good as it gets," smiled Amy. "Each performance gets better and better. You guys make such beautiful music."

"Amy and I were crying at the end, Mark," said Deb. "Everyone here was so bursting with pride. I mean it was palpable! What a great way to end the show."

"I don't know where it came from," said Mark. "It sort of happened in the moment. I almost wanted to yell, 'Play Ball!' It just reminded me of a parade down Main Street, U.S.A., the way it used to be...like I was wanting to return to some traditional American values...it just happened."

"Is anyone interested in going for a bite?" asked Ma. "I know a really good Chinese restaurant a few blocks away, Dragon Well. Want to go?"

We piled into a limo and had a fine light meal and a fine time. During the meal, Amy asked how we could ever top that show and we explained to her that each show is different and with it's own unique attitude.

"It's not about surpassing the affect one show has over another. Each performance brings it's own rewards," said Ma.

"Yes. Each performance brings a different moment, one that you want to embrace right there and then." I said.

"Right. Some nights you may play better than other nights, some nights you may play differently but because each musician is listening and conversing with each other, you have a new and unique conversation...and that has it's own unique facets. It's a river that flows along...some days it's a low tide and some days it overflows the banks but it is always flowing." said Mark.

"Well said!" We clicked beer bottles and felt good. The limo dropped Ma and his cello off at the Four Seasons and then we headed back to Big Chocolate. "What shall we do tomorrow," asked Amy.

Mark and Deb answered together. "Sleep late!"

It was 10:30 by the time Amy and I rolled out of bed. Santo was holding his hind legs together and looking desperate. Mark and Deb were stirring. I took Santo out while Amy put up coffee. Poor Santo must have pissed ten minutes straight but in the beautiful Sunday morning, and in his silver and leather collar, he pranced around like a king in his domain. When we returned, Mark was sitting naked and drinking his coffee. Amy and Deb were in the shower and we could hear them squealing.

"And a good morning to you, my brother. How's it hanging?"

"Low and loose and full of juice, Davy boy. Ready to tackle this beautiful day. And you?"

"Same story here," I filled a cup and sat down. "That was a beautiful night. I fell asleep replaying the textures in my head. Playing with you and Ma really made me play better than I've played in a long time."

"Coulda fooled me. We felt the same about playing with you."

The girls came out of the shower wrapped in robes. They joined us. Amy brought out some croissants and jam. I asked them what they would like to do today.

Amy said, "First I want to fuck you silly. Then I want to be a tourist in San Francisco. I want to buy stuff. I want to see the sights. I want to go out to eat."

Deb said, "All of the above but I also want to have all my holes filled...a little DP for me. And you two?"

Mark said, "I want to go back to sleep." He received a round of boos but I stopped them.

"I have to tell you two that I'm on the same page as Mark. In fact, and I don't want to sound like an old fart, but my back is bothering me today and I wouldn't mind taking it easy today either." More boos. "Wait," I said, "I have a compromise. How 'bout I call for a limo to take you two wherever you want and then you call us to meet you for an early dinner and we'll cab it. Good idea, right?"

They agreed immediately but still called us both names. Funny how we just didn't care. After breakfast, Amy actually did fuck me silly and Deb got her DP soon after. I was especially impressed at my ability to get hard again but damn, as I slipped into Deb's cute box, my package filled it. It was a fuckin' fun morning!

They dressed and the limo took them off on their spree. Mark and I promptly fell back to sleep for a couple of hours. I awoke to the sound of Mark in the shower and I followed him in. We had more coffee and then we took Santo out for a walk around the RV park. Many RVs were leaving and so the lot was busy. We walked toward Candlestick Park and walked around the stadium and the grassy lawns. I let Santo loose and he ran around happily exercising. For the most part, we spent our day rambling around and stoned. In some odd way, it seemed like a good yet productive day off.

The girls called and asked that we meet them for dinner at Piazza Pelligrini so we got our asses in gear and cabbed it up Columbus to Washington Square. I was surprised to see that we beat them there but they walked in soon after loaded with shopping bags and literally effervescing. We had a delicious Italian meal (I had this amazing pork chop with potatoes, vegetables, in gorgonzola cream sauce accompanied by a delicious 2005 Carignane). Amy and Deb promised us a fashion show when we returned and also hinted at some gifts for us. As we sat around coffee and dessert, a couple came by to thank Mark for the previous night's concert. They seemed very familiar with his recorded work and asked many questions. It was a pleasure to meet such knowledgeable fans and Mark was especially tickled.

We went back to Big Chocolate and discussed our plans for the next day. I suggested that we head out early to the Tesla facility so we could start our trip north soon after. I decided to call Larry and Meg to verify our stop-over. I had a very odd conversation with Meg. She told me that Larry was out and she didn't know when he would return. I could sense that there some something wrong in her voice, full of tension and drama. She said that if we still wanted to, we could stop by and visit her. I told her I would call her back after we left Menlo Park. Her conversation left me uneasy and I told the gang about it.

"I've always liked Meg more than Larry. She was always more down to earth while he was more of a rich show-off. When I first met him, he was a small-time concert promoter. He worked with Bill Graham for a couple of years until they had a falling out and he stumbled around for a few years. Meg had a thriving therapy business and they did well, buying a nice piece of property on Paradise Drive overlooking the bay. Larry struck it rich in the eighties with early investments in Apple, Microsoft, Oracle and Intel. He sent me lots of pictures of 'things', you know, like his new yacht, his private plane, et cetera, but rarely pictures of Meg or his kids. They were also both randy fuckers and she caught him several times with neighbors. He spent lots of time in the doghouse. Anyway, I sensed that there were problems going on right now and I could hear Meg's sadness and resignation. I don't know if it's worth going there to visit, and to be honest, except for a bag of pot Larry said he had for me, I'm not all that interested in seeing him...I'd rather see Meg."

"We don't have to go there, Davy," said Amy, "we can call her tomorrow and see what's up...play it by ear." I agreed. Amy and Deb said they wanted to shower again after a long day of shlepping around. They suggested that we get "comfortable" in the meantime and get ready for show-and-tell. Mark and I rolled a couple of fat ones and checked out the computer while they cleaned up. YouTube was nuts. The numbers were insane and the comments were voluminous. We also read some glowing reviews of Mark's concert.

"Ahem...are you boys ready? First, we bought some clothes to travel in." They came out of the bedroom in cute little shorts and tees and new sneakers. They opened bags and boxes showing off more travel clothes, hiking boots and foul-weather gear. Then came bags with sunblock, other skin lotions and stuff from the drug and cosmetic counter. Next were some gifts for us: harmonicas, tees, a cool drum machine, and some notebooks and composition paper. Next came some bags of treats for Santo, which, of course, he had to sample. Finally, they stood up and stripped for us. They each wore a bikini panties with pictures of us on their crotches and their asses were inscribed with "Davy's Ass" and "Mark's Ass." It was very funny, especially with our faces on their pusses, each with a comic tongue hanging out. "We couldn't resist! Want a taste?" they teased us.

Amy walked up to me and rubbed her crotch into my face. I stuck my tongue out like on the caricature. Mark did the same and Deb snapped a picture of us. I pulled Amy back into my face and pulled the panties to the side to facilitate my pussy-lapping. This got her hot and happy. I stood up and lifted her onto my cock while I leaned against the wall. I started to fuck her hard as she dug her heels into my butt. Deb was straddling Mark as they sat on the couch and she was riding his cock as he pinched her nipples. Amy reached her hand down onto her clit as I rocked her. It was a tough position to maintain so she pointed over to the couch. I sat down next to Mark and Amy straddled me in the same way. As we pumped and rocked, the girls reached over to play with each other's clit. Mark and I rubbed their tits, pinching and pulling at their nipples. We developed a synchronous motion and I commented that it was just like playing music but as a quartet. The girls started bouncing a little harder as their fingers vigorously diddled away. The scent of their sex filled the bus as they became squishier. Amy came first and I flipped her around so that she lay on the couch as I pounded her. Mark came next in a rush of violent spurts and thrusts. He pulled Deb off and rolled onto the floor so he could lick and suck her snatch. With a push and some deep penetration, I came next followed by Deb's wailing orgasm. Amy said she was coming again so I stretched her out and we began to sixty-nine. As she sucked the juice from my around by bulbous little head, I burrowed deep into her puss and was rewarded by a sno-cone of cum and pussy juice. We all lay in a heap, cum happy.

"Well ain't this a happy, smiley bunch?" I commented.

"Yeah, but I didn't get to try out the double dildo we bought today. Oh well, there's always tomorrow!"

"I love the smell of orgasms in the evening! It smells of victory!" said Mark.

I flipped on the TV to check out the Weather Channel and was pleased to see that while it would be a bit cooler over the next few days, at least it would be sunny. The extended forecast (which is more akin to fortune telling) called for warmer days but the possibility of showers by the weekend. No matter. I was looking to head east by then. I got dressed and took Santo out for his walk and the RV park was considerably more deserted now. Upon our return, everyone was in bed so I hopped in and snuggled up to Amy.

"Goodnight, Davy!"

"Goodnight, Deb!"

"Goodnight, Mark!"

"Goodnight, Amy!"

"Goodnight, John-boy!"

We set out early for Menlo Park and reached the Tesla plant by 9:30. I had my first bit of trouble with the bus as we rolled down 880. My graphic display went dark and didn't come back on line. When we pulled in, I went over my checklist with Elon and Amy went over her log. They pulled the bus into a dock while Elon gave us a tour. There were a line of Tesla Roadsters awaiting delivery and they looked very cool in the red, silver, dark blue and racing green colors. Elon showed us the new Model S and I liked that model better than the Roadster. We all took turns driving it around the test track and the handling was spectacular. And talk about fast off the mark, this car was a monster. Back in his office, he showed us designs for the next models, including an SUV crossover. He went off to check on the progress of the bus and when he returned, he gave us good news.

"It should be ready in about an hour. The graphics display problem turned out to be no big deal, just a loose grounding wire. We've updated all the modules again and made some modifications to the software based upon your driving readouts...and I must compliment you on the way you've been handling it, you're getting very good mileage and nearly optimal compression ratios...you'll do even better on flat open roads. As per Amy's log, I tweaked a few things but nothing major. Oh, and I had a conversation with Graydon yesterday. I'm flying into New York next week and we're going to have lunch. Maybe I can sell him a Model S."

Mark was tripping over the Model S and asked Elon if he could place an advanced order for one. Elon made a note and said that when Mark returns to L.A., they should meet at the showroom to finalize any custom details, colors and things like that.

"I know one thing," said Mark. "Deb and I love that dark blue finish."

In a short time, we were told that Big Chocolate was ready and Elon took us down to the Main Entrance where it sat waiting. As we approached the door, I noticed some fine writing freshly painted on it. It read "Big Chocolate". "I had to," said Elon. We waved goodbye and headed back north toward Marin County. Everyone let out a cheer - our trip had begun. The graphic display was up and working again just fine and the bus was handling fine.

I called Meg and put her on the speakerphone. "Hiya, Meg. It's Davy. I have you on speakerphone while I drive. I'm heading north on 880 to the San Mateo Bridge and then across the Golden Gate. We should be there in our big brown bus in about an hour and a half. Is that good?"

"Davy, can you meet me at my office in Mill Valley instead of the house in Tiburon? I think I'll be moving into my place here for a while."

"So Larry isn't around?"

"No. Turns out, to my surprise, that Larry is in Seattle. I'll tell you all about it when you get here, okay. I really can't wait to see you and to meet Amy and your friends. So hurry, okay?"

"Sure, Meg. Just give me directions and we'll plug them into the GPS."

Her directions were pretty easy. Take Route 1 past Sausalito to Miller Avenue and follow it north until we reach her office. Mark plugged it into the GPS and then selected some tunes. He put on Van Morrison's "Hard Nose The Highway" album as I cruised back through San Francisco and then over the beautiful redwood colored Golden Gate Bridge.

"Hey kids, dig the first takes, Ain't that some inspiration, When Sinatra sings against Nelson Riddle Strings, Then takes a vacation.

...I was tore down at the dead's place, Shaved head at the organ, But that wasn't half as bad as it was, oh no, Belfast and Boston.

...Seen some hard times, Drawn some bad lines, No time for shoeshines, Hard Nose the Highway."

Along the way, I pointed out sites like Coit Tower and Alcatraz. We drove past the exit for Sausalito and arrived in Mill Valley just a bit later than I'd predicted. Meg's office was a cinch to find and it was a very cool piece of real estate. She'd converted several old western-style clapboard houses into a complex of offices without losing the flavor of the original design. We pulled into the driveway and into the lot at the rear of the complex, which, from the rear, appeared to be a big maze of buildings. Big Chocolate consumed nearly the entire back boundary of the lot.

Meg ran out to greet us and, while it had been nearly 25 years since I'd seen her, she looked like the same fresh-faced colleen I remembered.

"Holy shit!" she declared, "You said 'a bus' but I never expected this! Davy, you handsome hunk, you look terrific!" I introduced her around and she was very impressed with Mark, who, it turns out, is one of her favorite artists. As she led us into her office, she was arm and arm with Amy and very happy we were there. I could hear Amy asking her about the architecture and design of her complex.

"I have no appointments for the rest of the day but the rest of my staff will be busy, thank God." She showed us around and then up into her living quarters which was quite large and comfortable. It was furnished with antiques and knick-knacks, just as I expected it would be. It reflected her taste just the way I remembered. We flopped down around her living room which opened onto an enclosed balcony. There was a large tree that grew up though a large cut in the deck, a hot tub and a meditation shrine in the corner. The whole place breathed Meg. She poured some wine all around.

"So, what's going on with you and Larry," I asked.

"Oh, Larry," she sighed. "First off, he left this for you" She handed me a nicely filled bag. "Larry is such an asshole and lately, a real prick. I filed for separation this morning. Fortunately, it should be an easy divorce because there's no custody and no money haggling. Charlie, my son, lives in Santa Rosa with his family and Clara, my daughter, lives in Chicago with hers. About ten years or so ago, Larry and I got tired of each other, I think it was as simple as that. He became very peculiar and into some dark stuff...stuff I didn't care for. Anyway, we split up the money and the property into his and hers accounts. Over the last couple of years, I've been doing a lot better than he has and he became very jealous. We've actually been living apart for the last year and I've grown to hate the place in Tiburon. It's just not me, you know what I mean? It's Larry's and he's built some weird shit there."

"Like what?"

"Like a shooting range...like a bondage room in the basement...shit like that. Plus he has these weirdos around him, too...big ugly biker-types, guys into being members of militias...and worse. He called me this morning to tell me that he's in Seattle with his skinny little girlfriend - a heavily tattooed biker chick and, frankly, I just don't care. I feel relieved."

"You sound all right about it," said Amy.

"Yes, well it's good to be a trained professional and to practice what you preach. Plus, it's also good to feel alive again. Since we separated, I've become I guess what you might call a MILF or a cougar. For a while, I have a little herd of some young studs but it's been a while. It was my 'Free Again, Free Again' stage. As for Larry, we had some good years and a whole lot of very weird years...so he's moved on and so have I. Do I still want to fuck him? No. But it's easy for me to say, "Fuck him!"

We laughed and congratulated her. Fortunately, Meg was still a fine piece of ass. At about 5'4" with a great set of tits, maybe 38s, with a minimal of sag and a tight little butt, she could still turn heads. I asked her if she's like a joint and she said yes but offered her own saying that it came from a hydroponic grower up in the hills and that it was primo. It was the same as the stuff in my bag. She also asked us if we might want to unwind in the hot tub and we all liked that idea, too. She offered to put us up in the house for the night but she really had her eye on the bus.

"Would you like to see our bus, Big Chocolate?"

"You know, it really looks amazing. Can it climb to the top of Mount Tam?" She pointed toward Mount Tampalais, which you could just see over the deck wall.

"Probably. Why, you want to try?"

"You'll love the view...especially now that we're getting buzzed. It's sort of tradition in these parts."

"Oh, jeez, Meg, you bring+ back memories of lost days in Bolinas...So, you guys want to? The sunset is coming soon. I don't want to sound like Larry but let's show off our yacht."

We ran out of the house and, like a band of Merry Pranksters, we jumped into the bus. Santo was quite surprised at our arrival as we was dozing on the couch. He jumped off acting like he was guilty of something and he was caught in the act. We headed up the squiggly zig-zag road slowly. Meanwhile Amy was showing off the features and giving Meg the grand tour. It took just a few minutes to get to a cul-de-sac near the top. Fortunately, there were only a few bikers on the narrow road and no cars because I don't know how they could pass me. We hopped out to take in the view looking toward Stinson Beach and out into the Pacific. The breeze blew our hair and everything smelled so green. We stood gazing out at the water transfixed. Even Santo, after peeing about ten times stood and looked. My spell was only temporarily broken when Mark passed the roach to me.

"Nice bus, Davy and Amy...nice." toked Meg.

As he headed back into the bus, Amy pointed out the upper deck. Meg asked to see it so Amy climbed up and slid the floor out. "Oh, my God." was all we heard from them. We had to see the view, too and so the three of us started yelling for them to come down and give us turns. "There's room," shouted Amy, "Come on up." Deb went up next, then Mark. More oohs and aahs. I climbed up last and there was just enough room for me to stand, although I was on the top step of the ladder. And they were right. With another ten feet of elevation, and a bit higher than some of the trees, it was truly spectacular. Meg snapped a few phone-photos and then I made my way back down as the others slowly followed suit.

Amy folded the floor back up and mentioned that, in the storage bin was a hot tub and a guitar amp and speaker system. Meg was amazed and asked for a little concert. I passed and told them to get back in. Extremely slowly, I turned the bus around and we made it back down the mountain into Mill Valley.

"You guys hungry? Want to stop for some chow? We can go over to the Balboa. Or Bungalow 44. That's great place, too. Or if you just want to get sloppy, there's Pearl's Phatburgers." As the munchies had set in, Pearl's seemed like a good idea. We voted and Pearl's won. We parked at Meg's and walked the few blocks to the restaurant and let me tell you, this was a loose crowd. Maybe a little too loose for any restaurant but what do I know? It's Mill Valley. And it turned out that Pearl's was a great choice. I had a Prized Bobb with Bacon and Blue Cheese with a side of Frings. Mark had a Mushroom and Jack Burger and the girls opted for an Avocado Chicken Sandwich, a Hawaiian Chicken Sandwich and a couple of Veggie Burgers. I bought a big cheeseburger for Santo. We stumbled and bumbled back to Meg's place. I think I farted steadily for half the trip.

Amy, Deb and Meg went to get give Santo his dinner. She continued to show off the bus, opening the slideouts, playing the sound system and the TVs, and so on. They were all laughing hysterically and silly as they all come out. Santo ran around the parking lot.

"What's so funny?"

"We were just telling Meg about our sleeping arrangements."

"I always knew you had it in you, Davy."

Mark and I shook our heads. "Stoned," he said and I agreed.

We returned to the house and Meg refilled the glasses. As we stood on the deck and took in the Mill Valley ambiance, she turned on the tub and said it would take a while to heat up. I took the opportunity to hit the john and to call George and fill him in on our itinerary. He said that he and his squeeze Sarah might rent an RV and meet us at Yosemite but that he was still working on it. I hung up and joined the lunatics in the living room again. Meg had brought out her old Guild acoustic and asked me if I'd tune it for her. I went out to the bus to get a set of strings and returned with my guitar and Mark's fiddle. When I returned, they were in the tub already. I dropped trou and stepped in.

We passed one of Meg's hydros around and had goofy conversation. Meg was envious of our trip and asked numerous questions. She wished that she had the time to just take off with us but, unfortunately, she had a raft of clients scheduled. "Maybe one day," she opined. The girls got to talking about their skin and their bodies. Amy and Deb told Meg of Lillian's Magic Semen Cream. We told her about the Palm Springs Spa and how she could go there. "Oh, I could never go there alone," she said, so we offered to have her join us on our next trip there. I couldn't take my eyes off her fabulous tits and I knew that, considering her current state of mind, she could eat the boys alive.

The smoke and the tub and the air took it's affect upon us and we all started to settle down. I stepped out of the tub and stood naked looking out at the green hills and the mountain above. A few minutes later, the others stepped out and joined me. In the tub, I hadn't noticed Meg's tattoos but now, naked and next to me, I surveyed the flowers running up one ass cheek to the small of her back, the flowers on each thigh framing her neat pubic buzz cut and the flower under her left breast. We stood in a circle and smoked up. Meg complained that she seemed horny all the time and that she had to keep buying new batteries. Mark placed her in the middle of the circle and we four closed in on her. We began to touch and caress her and she responded with a deep sigh. Standing behind her, her rubbed his cock in her ass. Amy and Deb stood at her sides and caressed her breasts. I stood in front as she rubbed my penis into her belly.

"Can we take this inside," she asked. "I can hardly stand...and I am so horny...I haven't touched skin in a while...dicks and vajayjays...welcome to Meg In Paradise..."

We followed her into her large bedroom and placed her in the center of the bed where we continued our caresses. Her hands flitted everywhere as if she couldn't get enough of us. Amy and Deb returned to suckling her breasts. Mark moved between her legs and began to lick her slit. I sat near her head and watched her hand snake up to my cock and stroke it. She pulled it to her face and she licked under the head right where the crown divides. She cried out that it felt so good...that she needed this...that she wouldn't last too long. Mark moved away and let Deb take over. Amy covered Meg in kisses and caresses. Mark and I just sat back and watched as these three luscious women began to devour each other. Mark reached over and took my rod in his fingers. The women moved around so that they formed a daisy chain, tasting each other and moving in concert. True to her word, Meg began to thrash and jerk her hips which only caused Deb to lick her clit with more intensity. As she began to cum, she spread her legs wide and pushed up against Deb's lips. Her breasts heaved as her orgasm rose. and her head tossed from side to side. Her nipples jutted up and her hands flew wildly to them, squeezing the nipples. She began to peak and emitted little squeals of joy. "Oh, God...oh, God,...ye...ssssssssssssssssssss." She flopped back on the bed smiling.

"Whew! That was great, Deb. Thanks. But may I have some cock now?" I placed my dick at her entrance and slid easily into her soaking cooch. Mark squatted over her head and fed her his baton. The girls watched us fuck Meg until they returned to each other in a sixty-nine. I leaned over Meg and sucked on her nipples. "Harder, Davy," she cried. I sucked on them harder and I sawed in and out of her, sometimes I thought I might be hurting her with my forceful sucking but it only excited her further and made her react more forcefully. In the back of my mind, I considered that a little of Larry's taste in bondage and discipline had rubbed off on Meg. Mark's dick popped out of her mouth as she popped her cheeks around it. Waving in my face, I tasted it, too, much to her smiling pleasure. For a few minutes, she leaned up on her elbows to watch me. "More cock," she growled. We moved around to see what she wanted and she straddled Mark and lowered her ass onto him. Spreading her legs for me, I re-entered her pussy. We were in a tight clutch as we penetrated her. She was very forceful and rough as she bounced her impaled ass. Her pussy was flooding me while her hand vigorously swiped and diddled her clit. I could feel Mark through the thin membrane that separated us and it felt neat as we rubbed up against each other. When we double-penetrated Deb it was different, more sensuous. This was a rodeo.

"Yeah, that's it," she hoarsely growled, "don't stop...almost there...harder...yeah, yeah..." Her bouncing became furious and I grasped Mark to keep her between us and prevent myself from slipping out as she was so wet and slippery. It was difficult but somehow, we stayed together. I felt Mark begin to throb and I could feel his cum escape up her chute. She was pouring now and beads of sweat formed on her skin. She pushed down on him, taking every inch and let out a loud whoop as she began to cum, flooding me even more. I pushed into her as hard as I could and was literally banging her when my cum began to spray into her, producing a warm cum soup. The three of us held tight as we calmed down and slowly withdrew.

Amy and Deb applauded us. "Wow, that was hot!"

"Oh, yes. That was one great fuck, boys." said Meg. "Cream Pie, anyone?"

"Me, me, me" shouted Amy and Deb and they ended up taking turns cleaning Meg out. At one point, Amy was in her snatch as Deb ate out her ass. Meg just lay there cooing until she began to pussy fart and expel her juices. Amy and Deb looked up and laughed at their cum-smeared faces. We all lay for a while until we took turns in the shower. All cleaned up, we sat around on the bed and passed a stub around.

"I can't tell you how envious I am of you guys. You're all so sexually healthy and you heads seemed screwed on, too. That was the first time I've ever had a true bisexual orgy. It's always been one-on-one with me but once I had two guys at once and I always wanted that again. So thanks...and thanks for your fun company, too. I needed to be with a bunch of real hippies again. The hippies here, and while it seems like there are a lot of them, they're all worried about their portfolios and 401ks. Believe me, I know, I hear enough of their whining. But you guys? You just seem to travel on another wavelength and that's very refreshing. Thanks again. If I tell you that I needed that, I'm not kidding around."

"You know, Meg, it wasn't always like this." I said. "It took us all a long time and hard work to get to this point and we're all very lucky in lots of ways but very lucky that we found each other."

"How I wish I was going with you. Not so much for the sex, but that would be nice, but for the freedom - the spiritual freedom...well, maybe someday."

"Someday soon, I hope," said Deb. "You should take a week off by yourself and go visit Callie and Lillian at the spa. After a few days, you'll feel very free and this load will be off you...plus there are all these young hunks looking for a hot cougar."

"Or even Esalen," added Amy. "Davy and I spent a half day there and it was very uplifting for both of us."

"Yeah," said Deb, "but I think Lillian will straighten her out if the Sybian doesn't!"

"Oh, wow...remember that? My pussy just vibrated thinking about it!" Amy said with a chuckle and a big smile. As they described the Sybian, Meg was all ears. Soon she began to play with her pussy. Deb went to her bag and pulled out the new double dildo. Amy slowly rubbed it around the insides of Meg's lips and around her clit. The dildo was a good ten inches on each end and a large fistful around. Amy slowly began to penetrate Meg. She pulled in up and back rotating it a few times. It looked like it was really filling Meg as Amy moved around and inserted her end. She slowly moved forward until they had a see-saw going. I sat behind Amy and helped hold her up. Mark and Deb did the same to Meg. It was very hot when Deb leaned her face in and daubed their clits. Deb got into it as Mark's hand fiddled her hard little nubbin. Meg and Amy were pinching each other's tits and smiling at each other. It was too much for Meg who let out a banshee's wail as she withdrew the monster. Amy was still sitting up with her end of the dildo still securely wrapped. I slowly lifted her up and slid her onto my cock. Her ass sucked me into it and squeezed her sphinter around my root. Mark took over on her clit until she cried out those gutteral sounds I loved to hear.

We stayed the night, fucking and sleeping in a pile. We did all kinds of stuff by playing "What's Your Fantasy" and then fulfilling them. Deb got another DP and Amy got her four-on-one cum bath. Meg got to be blindfolded and tied up while we filled her holes. Mark and I seemed to be the available penises on-call but Meg did request that we blow each other and so we fulfilled that wish, too. In the morning, after a parting orgy, I reset her guitar during breakfast.

We said our goodbyes. Meg said that she would stay in contact and would think about that spa trip. Then we set off for Bolinas, a place where I lived for almost a year. A bucolic little cowboy town on Bodega Bay, it was a magical place for me. Pulling around Bodega Bay and down the peninsula took me way, way back. As I pulled through the village, I was pleased to see that the dirt roads and the wooden sidewalks were all still there. Nothing seemed to have changed since I left it. I parked the bus in front of my little house and we walked out on the beach.

"Over there was where Paul Kantner had a house. I remember a "morning after" where I woke up on the lawn in front of his house facing the water. The fog was thick and white and as I stumbled around, I was lost in a moonscape. Some artist-in-residence had created concrete craters and sort-of-like-stalagmites rising up from the ground. In fact, it was the morning after the Annual New Year's Party that the Dead threw at Winterland. We all hauled up here to continue the festivities. I remember wandering around Bodega Bay and the little community hall where Tracy Nelson and Mother Earth and Aum and The Youngbloods and Carlos Santana jammed all night. I remember catching a lift back down here with Marty Balin and someone in the car handed me a couple of reds to smooth out with and come down gently. Next thing I recall was waking up on the beach here. But if you want to talk about 'laid-back', this is Ground Zero...truly a hippie paradise."

"Can we go for a dip here, Davy? This beach is dazzling." Amy asked.

"Sure, why not. I don't see anyone around so let's go." We stripped off our minimal attire and dove in. Santo set himself up on our clothes and looked like a king surveying his silly subjects. We splashed around and played for a while and then went into the bus for showers. While they putzed around in the galley, I headed back north around the bay and then north to Point Reyes. Several times, we stopped the bus to take it all in. From there it was northeast to Santa Rosa and then east into the Napa Valley. We'd seen several different topographies and eco-environments by the time we pulled up to the Napa Valley Inn in Yountville where Amy had reserved a suite for us.

With views of the rolling hills of vineyards, we found ourselves revisiting France. Amy had made reservations for dinner at the French Laundry but after looking over their sumptuous menu, and after noshing all day, none of us felt that we could handle such a meal nor do it justice. In a town filled with gourmet restaurants offering incredible culinary delights, it was a bit difficult finding a place that agreed with all of us but the adhoc café seemed to be the popular choice. And a good choice, too. We sprang for a Chef's Tasting Meal with a Flight of Wine Tastings and it was simply superb. A little of this, a little of that and a lot of good wine, it was a big win with all of us. Chef Thomas Keller came out of the kitchen and chatted with us as we thanked him for the great meal. We drank a bit more wine, stumbled out and headed back to the Inn. Someone, I don't remember who, said that we have to stop living so well and was met by hoots and catcalls.

The room was just lovely with a large bathroom featuring a Japanese style soaking tub for 2. We all slept soundly and in the morning, after our champagne buffet breakfast. We refueled and headed south, down through the valley. We had a full day of traveling and buying wines and touring wineries. Santo loved this area with all it's fragrant trees to piss upon. It was a beautiful day-trip and clearly a place where I could spend more time soaking in the lush terrain. I called Elon and he emailed his instructions for the Green Symposium in Berkeley. It was night by the time we pulled into a cheesy little RV park in Vallejo. But, as the park might have been somewhat seedy, our digs were not. After tending to Santo, we closed up the bus and turned on a movie. I let them choose and they argued over The Searchers (Mark), This is Spinal Tap (Deb) and Time After Time (Amy). Feeling a strong need to laugh, I voted for Spinal Tap. Amy and Deb had never seen it before and so they were unprepared for all the side-splitting dialogue and riotous cameos. Billy Crystal, as the mime waiter, is still one of my favorite parts. We all roared when Ed came onscreen. We had a great night and truly, my sides hurt and I was stoned dizzy by the time I hit the bed.

The next morning, we packed away our gear, cleaned up Big Chocolate and then drove into Berkeley. Amy made some breakfast (the last of the bagels - toasted, of course, and cream cheese) and coffee. I pulled up to Pimental Hall on the UC Berkeley campus and saw Elon and Ed waving to me. They directed me toward a roped off area near the entrance to the hall.

"You made it! We were getting worried." said Elon, "How'd it ride?"

"Like a dream, Elon. Like a dream." I hugged Ed as the others joined us.

"I hope you don't mind but I made some arrangements for all of you. I have you in the Hotel Durant..."

"It's a green-certified hotel and it's pet friendly," added Ed. "I'm staying there, too."

"...and I have two Tesla Roadsters at your disposal."

"Sweet!", said Mark. "We'll take one and the ladies can have the other. Come on, Davy, let's burn rubber!"

Elon smiled. He could tell Mark was teasing him. He looked sternly at Mark and then snickered, "Yeah, Mark. 'Born to be mild'...Let's get you moved into the hotel. I have a detailing crew to clean up the bus. What we're going to do is set up a tent against and around the front door. I have a computer presentation and some videos of it while it was being built, you know stuff like that."

"I'd love a copy of that, Elon."

"Not a problem, Davy, we'll leave it in the bus. Anyway, nobody goes into that vehicle except me, Ed and the two females who work for me in Sales. During the day, I want to set up the roof terrace..."

"I love that terrace," said Amy. "A couple of days ago, we went to the top of Mount Tampalais and then climbed one flight up. It was very cool."

"...I love that feature, too, Amy. I also want to open the amp compartment and I want to fill the hot tub. I want to show just how sexy Big Chocolate can be while also being so green. I hope it's okay with you."

"Not a problem, Elon. Do whatever you like. We have some stuff to take with us but we're leaving a lot in there so I trust it will be protected."

"Yes, I have two security guards around it at all times. And, by the way, you're welcome to come by and visit at anytime...maybe even sell some product for me."

We started to fill the Roadsters with our gear. I realized that we'd have to make a second trip. Ed gave me directions to the hotel which was right off campus. We made it over to the hotel and unpacked. The girls wanted to drive back into San Francisco to do more shopping. Mark and I thought we might walk around the campus and visit the School of Music. Other than that, we really had no plan except to get more gear out of the bus. Amy insisted on taking Santo with them and we didn't argue. She and Santo made a very cute couple. We waved goodbye as the girls zipped off.

Mark and I drove back to the Pimental Hall where the Symposium was now underway. We left the Tesla next to the bus and locked our instruments into it. We strolled through the Hall and bumped into Ed who was hanging out near his merchandise booth.

"I'm selling green cleaning products and signing autographs. That's my gig. I have a lecture to make in a couple of hours and then I'm on a panel tomorrow. You guys want to hang later...do dinner?"

"Absolutely, Ed. We're pretty loose today and tomorrow. Tomorrow night, I'm sitting in on John Sebastian's show at Zellerbach Hall. After that, we're going to Yosemite and hooking up with Clooney."

"Sounds like fun. You're out of here on Saturday, then? We'll make good use of Big Chocolate until then."

We told him we'd cruise for a while but make it back to hear him speak. We strolled around the hall and picked up little samples and info brochures. We were into an interesting conversation with a couple of inventors and greenies when we saw Ed waving to us. We followed him into the lecture hall and then enjoyed (and I mean, really enjoyed) his presentation which was chock full of great information and some of his witty off-beat humor, too. When it ended, the three of us walked out to the bus where, to my astonishment, was a large crowd. Elon was pitching hard when he saw us.

"Here's the owner and some of his friends...Davy, can you come over here?"

I was peppered with questions and the three of us were inundated with autograph requests. I answered every question posed to me about the bus and my travels. I emphasized that between Bran Ferrin's original design, Elon's masterful technology, Ed's green consultation, Amy's interior design suggestions and friendship made Big Chocolate feel like a very comfortable and luxurious home. I pitched Tesla and told folks that they had seen nothing yet...just wait. I noticed that the tent covered the amp storage bin, still in the bin was my old Telecaster. I'd forgotten that I even had it. I pulled it out of the bin intending to put it into the car when calls of "Play something!" rang out. Elon came over and asked if I wouldn't mind so I agreed to play a couple of tunes. Mark got our axes from the car and I handed Ed my Martin. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when I asked him to join us. As I hadn't tried the amp and mic mixer yet, I explained to the crowd that this was a first time experience for all of us. We tuned up as the flashes popped.

Mark called the first tune. "Hey Davy, do you know "Harvey's Tune?"

"You mean like off the Supersession album?...Harvey Brooks?"

"Yeah, that's the one. Great cat, that Harvey. I think he lives in Israel now. You know, he played bass on The Doors first album?"

"Yeah, his brother, too, Gary...good sax player." He kicked into the song and it just sounded so sweet, we riffed on it for about ten minutes. And that's really funny when you consider that the original track on the album was about a minute and a half in length. "As long as we're having a Supersession, how bout "Man's Temptation?"

<i?"One more time to test the will power of me, You know these feelings that I hold inside, Just won't let me be, Now this woman won't leave me alone, She's trying to ruin my happy home, With a man's temptation...

...I know I've got to be strong, I've got to fight this and carry on, So afraid of what I must do, I got to choose my woman or you.

I'm sorry little miss, That's the way love is, I'm sorry I can't stay, I got to be, got to be on my way. I'm sorry little miss, That's the way love is..."

It sounded very cool as Ed added a bass part and Mark filled the holes. It's such a good song to begin with. The crowd liked it too. After each song, I pitched Tesla and answered some questions about the bus. It was a very loose and easy-going set and it lasted about an hour before we broke. We were surrounded by autograph seekers and well-wishers.

"Davy, how did you know I played?" asked Ed.

"Ed, although I know you played drums with Spinal Tap...(dramatic pause)...I see you as a renaissance man - always full of ideas, talents and surprises." Ed blushed.

Elon was ecstatic. He had a packed house and he even took three advance orders. He just about begged for us to do another set later and then tomorrow but Mark and I waffled. Two kids from the campus radio station, KALX, asked if we would stop by the station for an interview. I agreed but said that we would do it now or never so they led to the studio. The three of us were in a fine mood and the interview was loose, funny, full of green information and plugs for Tesla, Ed's Cleaners and the Breadbasket Project. Afterwards, we parted ways with Ed who returned to the symposium while Mark and I cruised over to the Music School at Hertz Hall. We went straight to the Dean's office and asked if we could use their library which they quickly agreed to. As Mark and I pored through scores and music texts, a professor approached us and obviously knowing who we were, asked if we might be interested in speaking to his class about our profession. We thought it was a great idea as we both love to speak to students.

Speaking to his class was a real gas. It turned us on to feel their freshness, to field their questions and give them advice about wading through the business end. As the class ended, we told them we were going back to the Symposium tent to play a short set and several of them asked if we would like a bass player, a keyboardist and a small drum kit. With our student band in tow, we set up again in the tent. Once we started tuning up, the tent filled. It was late afternoon and we had no intention of playing long but the music and the players were great. Toward the end of the set, Amy, Deb and Santo appeared from the middle of the crowd. Santo looked very tired. I waved them up front and gave Amy the mic while Santo pushed his butt into my leg and sat on my shoe. Amy sang "Talk Dirty To Me", Willie Nelson's "Crazy" and as our final number, "Breadbasket." I thanked everybody and we were done. It was a very satisfying day and it made Elon very happy, too.

We filled the roadsters with the rest of our stuff and headed back to the hotel. Santo was out cold on the floor. Mark and I both fell asleep for about an hour. When we awoke, Ed and the girls were chatting in the living room. Ed said he had the best restaurant in Berkeley. We called for a limo. It was an Indian place, Vik's Chaat, and it was fabulous. I had no idea what it was I was eating - basically I just pointed to different dishes - but it was delicious and filling. Back at the hotel, the girls were going to model for us but Mark, Ed and I smoked a doober and passed out in front of the TV.

The next morning, I awoke from a strange dream and it left me somewhat disoriented. It was a dream about my ex-wife and her family. They were visiting me while I was on the road. They were all angry with me about something although I couldn't tell why. I could hear my children crying in another room and, in my dream, I noticed that they were still very young but they couldn't be, I seemed to know that they were adults and it confused me. I awoke as my ex slapped my face. I had to wake myself so I headed for the shower and shook my head free of those ugly images. I really didn't know what to make of he dream but I recalled that my ex and my in-laws always seemed to be angry with me because I never seemed to make enough money to suit them. How times had changed.

I fixed myself some coffee and joined Amy and Deb on the terrace.

"Wow, Hon, are you all right? You look like you were just beat up."

"I just awoke from the strangest dream. It's unnerved me a bit." I told them about as much as I could recall.

Amy got up and rubbed my neck and my shoulders. She told me to shake it off as it most likely meant very little. Deb, who explained that she dabbled in dream interpretation asked me some questions about my relationship with my ex, her family and my children.

"It sounds to me that you still have some bitterness about how they treated you. This is hardly surprising because no matter what anyone says, feelings like that linger forever. Were there any objects present in the dream?"

"Yes, I seem to remember that my mother-in-law seemed busy reading a magazine and doing her nails. She didn't participate much. Also, there were guitars around the room. One had a big hole in it and there were various Tele bodies and lots of different necks stacked up, electronics on the floor...all the guitars were all in pieces. I remember that my red Stella I had when I was a kid was in the room, too."

"Hmm. It could mean that the guitars are a stabilizing force and that you ex represents destabilization as well as separation. Also the guitars might represent you...it's your room, it's your life, your doing what you do and are on the road away from them...you have your tools with you but you can't use them. Your young children crying could represent feelings of parental inadequacy as well as your desire to be apart from their animosity and your desire to be free. Whatever was going through your head is over now and you chose to wake up and end it when she slapped you. So your mind fought back and separated yourself in that way. You had the freedom to end the dream. And that's what a psych degree will get you! It's over now and you're with us and we love you, Davy, emphasis on the word you, the real person doing what he needs to do and not someone else's image of who you should be. Your dream is pretty definite on that."

This explanation was interesting and it did make me feel better (even though I privately thought it a whole lot of hooey). Also, the coffee helped. Amy continued to rub me and she whispered into my ear how much she loved me.

"You know, Deb, among the many things I love about this man is that he is so honest...there are no agendas or interior motives. What you see is what you get. He knows what he wants and what he likes and he's upfront about it in a gentle way. He very open and inclusive, too. He's very sensitive in a manly way, not like a wuss...you know, like he doesn't bleed sensitivity. He seems very aware of who he is and his space on the planet. I saw it in the way he carried himself when we first met and I was immediately attracted to it."

"Mark is like that, too - now, but we weren't always so open with each other. It took several years of marriage and hard work to break down some thick walls but we worked at it together and I think that today, we've overcome those obstacles. It has made us more loving and much more of a real partnership. But I have to admit, being with you two has made us both more aware of how could it can be...you both are very self-assured and centered and those qualities influence us. It's intoxicating. You two are really yin and yang."

"Deb, we've all go through so heavy changes and sometimes it isn't easy to shed all the baggage. Like Davy likes to say, he prefers 'carry-on' size baggage. But sometimes, it isn't easy and other times it is, you know?...What makes it all matter is where we are at this moment in time...because it will never come around like this again and you never really know what's lurking around the bend."

Mark joined us on the terrace. "Hey! That sounds like a song!...So what's the plan?"

"No plan, baby. We're just shmoozing about love, devotion and ecstacy."

"Yup, no plan, Marcus. I figured that we might just head back to the symposium for a while today and then meet up with John before the gig tonight."

"Sounds like a plan to me!"

We laid around the room for a few hours. Checking her email, Amy read us one from Meg. "You'll all be happy to know that I decided to take your advice. After checking out the Spa online, I impulsively called Callie and made a reservation in a few weeks. I told Callie that you recommended me and she promised that I would be well taken care of. I'll let you know how it goes. Thanks for the tip and thanks for the great night. Meg. P.S. Even a therapist sometimes needs therapy." It made us happy to hear it and we knew that she would have a wonderful time. Even a therapist sometimes needs therapy. Indeed. I have to remember that.

Because a light misty rain had come in early morning, we headed up to the symposium in the early afternoon after it had passed. The girls decided to cruise the campus and find the bookstore for some sweats and tees. We parked in the row of different colored Roadsters in front of the bus and it made quite a display. As we headed for the tent, my phone rang. It was Sebastian.

"Hey Davy. Where are you?"

"J.B., I'm over at the symposium at Pimental Hall. Where are you?"

"I just pulled into Zellerbach around the block. Stay right there, I'll be right over."

The tent was crowded with browsers. Susan, one of Elon's salespeople told us that Elon and Ed were inside doing their panel and that it was almost over. She also told us that they had done a bang-up business with nine orders and a couple more on the edge. She also said that she and the other salesperson, Ella, had slept in the bus last night and that she hoped we didn't mind. "I had the sheets dry-cleaned this morning and the bus is as clean as a whistle. You'd never known we were there." I assumed that she and Ella had shared a bed and my mind wandered to visions of these two beautiful women deep in the throes of passion. I think that she sensed my thoughts and she turned red, as if reading my alleged mind.

"Mr. Harper, really!"

"Does Elon know you two slept in the bus?"

"No, and I'd prefer to keep it that way."

"No problem, Susan. Perhaps sometime you two would like to join Amy and me for an overnight."

She looked at me with a steamy, dreamy look and then smiled. "I don't know about her but I'm ready and willing for that! We left a couple of joints in your night table as a thank you." She gave me a peck on the cheek. "I'll consider your offer but I can tell you that I'm certainly there. Let me give you my card. This way, if you need any help on the road, you can call me and not bother Elon. He's so busy and I'd be more than glad to be of service to both of you. If you really need help, I can fly in." She winked at me as I put her card in my pocket. I walked into the bus and it was so clean, it seemed antiseptic. I sat down on the recliner and put the iTunes on shuffle as my mind envisioned us with Susan. Call it coincidence but "Rainbows All Over My Blues" came on. Mark climbed in a few minutes later with Sebastian in tow.

"I been waiting my time just to talk to you, You've been lookin' all down in the mouth and down at your shoes, Well, baby, I came to give you the news, I'll paint rainbows all over your blues.

I heard you been spending a lot of your time up in your room, And at night you been watchin' the dark side of the moon, You don't talk to nobody if they don't talk to you, So Buddy and me came here to sing you a tune.

"I give up" is all you've really got to say, It's time to find a new life style Cause this really ain't the way.

Let's go for a bounce on my trampoline, I can show you the prettiest mountains that you've ever seen, You better run to your closet and fish out your blue suede shoes, I'll paint rainbows all over your blues. Well, baby, I came to give you the news, I'll paint rainbows all over your blues."

"Nice that your listening to my music but I doubt if I'll be playing that tonight," I explained about the iPod and Sebastian laughed.

I closed and locked the door so I could light up the joint without any interruptions. We laughed and kidded each other and shmoozed about the old days. Then we got down to business and began to talk about the evening's show. John said that he'd do the first set solo and then bring us out in the second set. Mark deferred saying that he'd be there as a member of the audience only but both John and I refused to hear it. It didn't take too much time to twist his arm...but not the bow arm. John asked if I had any preferences and I asked if we could do "Amy's Tune."

"Well, of course! With your beautiful partner in the house, I assumed we would. Do you think we could get her up to sing with us?"

"If we do "Rain on the Roof" we can. Other than that, we'll just follow you, J.B."

There was a knock on the door. I let Ed and Elon in. They each took a whiff of the room and I passed the joint over.

"Sorry I missed your panel today. We just got here a little while ago and a little too late to make it."

"It's okay but you missed brilliance," smiled Elon. "So far, I'd say we're the hit of this symposium. I have a fistful of orders from yesterday and have done another fistful of orders today. Oh, and I heard the interview you did yesterday. I'm going to have to put you guys on the payroll!"

As usual, Ed was all smiles and good vibrations. "Uh, Davy, are you going to do a little set today? I'd love to play with you guys again."

"Sure, why not. What do you say, boys? Let's finish this number and do a little shilling for Elon. We can have a loose rehearsal."

"Okay with me but I don't want to leave this bus. This thing is the shit, man, the absolute shit!" I proceeded to give John the Grand Tour. He was all admiration and astonishment. We went through another bone while Elon peeked out the window to assess the crowd, always counting heads. John ran down some of the songs in his set and told us that Zellerbach was a little more than half sold out. Finally, we stepped off the bus and got our axes. John had his with him so I offered Ed my Martin. Ed smiled and said no. He went out to his Tesla and returned with a DanElectro Bass and a small amp. We all set up and tuned up in front of Big Chocolate. I told John to check out this song Mark had pulled out of his hat the day before. We kicked into "Harvey's Tune" and his eyes bugged out. With John on harmonica riding on the lead with Mark and Ed pinning the bottom, it sounded even better than before. He insisted that we play it tonight.

The tent was full again with an overflow crowd in the lot. I introduced the band and did some plugs for Tesla, for the Breadbasket Project and for John's show. I mentioned that he would have some special guests and that they should tell their friends. John interrupted and said that there were a couple of special guests even I didn't know about. "We might just travel back to the Summer of Love. People on this campus might not remember that summer because you were all too busy marching and protesting. But in the spirit of Mario Savio and the Free Speech Movement, I can assure you that tonight we're going to blow the fucking roof off Zellerbach! Now for a little music, okay?"

As long as Amy wasn't around, I asked John if we could run through "Amy's Tune." Nobody plays the harp like John Sebastian except maybe the late Paul Butterfield. We played some more tunes for about forty-five minutes and then quit. Again, we were mobbed for autographs. It was a nice scene in that intimate tent. Elon was bubbling over as he picked up four more orders. We all went back into the bus to relax and use the john. There were sandwiches and drinks waiting for us. That, Elon, he's a sharp businessman. He must be a good card player as he doesn't miss a trick.

"So tell me, J.B., who else is showing up tonight? Who are the other surprises?"

"You ready for this? David Grisman?..."

"Oh, shit, Excellent," Mark was overjoyed. "I played with Grisman and Garcia years ago. I haven't seen him in ages!"

"...and because they're in town for a gig tomorrow night, Levon Helm, his daughter Amy and Larry Campbell. How's that sound?"

"Oh, how fucking cool. I haven't seen Levon in almost thirty years or so." I was shook. This was going to be some gig. Especially when John asked Ed if he'd sit in on bass. You could see that Ed was near tears of joy. I asked him if he was ready to play John 'Stumpy' Pepys again (his cameo in 'Spinal Tap') and he laughed, killing his moment. I excused myself for a moment and stepped off the bus. I nodded to the KALX radio guy and motioned for him to follow me out of the tent.

"You might want to slip this on the air because I want to sell out Zellerbach tonight." I gave him a run down of the special guests and he took off in a flash towards the station.

I went back in and got right back into the conversation. Someone had asked John when we first met and he was reminiscing about his last days with the Even Dozen Jug Band before the Lovin' Spoonful and how we met one night at The Night Owl. "Richie Havens was there that night, too, right, John?"

We were pretty laid out by this time and John asked if he could take a nap. I ushered him into the bedroom and he sacked out for about a half hour.

"This is going to be some kind of fun tonight, Davy." said Mark. "Are you okay, Ed?"

"Am I okay" No, I'm not okay! I think I shit myself!" We had to control our laughter as not to disturb John. I ushered them out of the bus when we couldn't hold it in any longer. Then we just howled.

Outside the tent, we stood in the sun and chatted with symposium attendees. Some wanted to know if we were doing another set and I told them all no but to go to the show tonight. Some asked when I was going to do a full concert there sometime soon and I had no answer but told them that I would try to set one up for the summer or fall tour.

"Mark? Is that Mark O'Flannery?" It was David Grisman walking up holding his mandolin. "I was told Sebastian was over here but I didn't expect to see you here. How you doin', boy"

"Dawg, you old bastard." They hugged. "Meet my friends, Davy Harper and Ed Begley. We'll be sitting in with you guys tonight."

"Awesome, man I just heard from Levon and he should be here in about an hour. Fucking A, man. We're going to have us a hoot tonight."

Amy and Deb cruised in looking well exercised. "We just took care of Santo. He back in the room...We got sweatpants and sweatshirts...for us and for you two. We also got running shorts. Everything says 'UC Berkeley' - like we went here!" We introduced them to David. I told them that Sebastian was asleep in the bedroom and we quietly snuck back in. Mark pulled out a joint and found himself arguing with Grisman - "Let's smoke mine." "No. let's do mine first."

We had a hard time keeping quiet as we were all goofy and giggly and after a while, John come out from the bathroom. "How the hell can a guy get some shut eye with all this ruckus? Hey there, Dawg! Hi Amy. Hi, Mrs. O'. I see you're rehearsing for the gig. It's nearly five and we go on at eight. The soundcheck is at seven."

"Not a problem, J.B. We're all professionals here. Haw, haw, haw!" There was a knock on the door.

"This here's the tour bus. Damn!" Levon, Larry and Amy entered. It was a good thing that all the sliders and walls were open because we had us a full house. Elon and Susan entered the bus with a bunch of cold water bottles, a couple of bottles of wine and a big smile. I gave Levon, Larry and David the tour. John said that the bed was as good as you can find in the best hotels. He also liked how it formed a little suite. We partied until it was time to head to the concert hall. Amy spent a lot of time with John and Levon getting a Master Class on harmonica technique. I have to admit, I purely love Amy Helm's voice. It's near perfect.

Elon said he'd have the bus cleaned and he'd meet us at the hall. Although Zellerbach was just around the block, we piled into cars and drove over. Probably because David and Levon wanted to test drive a Tesla Roadster...doesn't everyone?

Like a real hippie entourage, we bounced into the venue. The manager was frantic (aren't they always) because we were late but we brushed him off. He told us that there had been a late surge in tickets and that he expected it to sell out from the walk-ups. John was elated. He walked onto the stage and did his soundcheck of just voice and guitar. Then the rest of us joined him as stage hands ran around plugging us in. I had both my axes with me. John insisted that they add another mic for my Amy and he referred to them as "The Angelic Amy Choir aka The Amys." Levon led us through "The Weight" and "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down." Levon insisted that Deb play the tambourine. And Ed? That guy was into it and he was rocking. I ran them through "Breadbasket" and "Talk Dirty To Me" which developed into a sassy duet by the Amys with them breaking up the verses as if they were two different phone-sex operators. It was a quarter to eight and we were done. They closed the curtain and brought John's stool and mic to the center. We all drifted back into the dressing rooms and kicked back. We were all like little kids and very excited. Some one suggested we call ourselves the "Mad Dawgs and Americans."

The show began and we all took seats set up for us in the wing. Elon, Susan and Ella had arrived by then and they joined us. As par for John, he came out and immediately owned the sell-out crowd. After nearly ten songs, old ones and new ones, he brought out David Grisman and they did another six tunes. John told the audience that he was taking a break but he'd be back soon because the real fun was about to begin.

Fifteen minutes later, he was back onstage. "And now, my friends, we're gonna have what we call back east in Woodstock, a ramble. I have a lot of fiends here with me tonight and they're all itching to play so let's bring back David Grisman and please welcome, the best fiddle on the planet, Mark O'Flannery - an angel's voice, Amy Bieler - direct from the Green Symposium, the bassman, Ed Begley and my dear old friend who has a bus with a very comfortable bed, Davy Harper." a roar went up as we joined him on stage. He began to play "Rain on the Roof" with Mark and Ed, I gave him the first verse and then Amy and I joined in on harmony. We took a break as Mark sweetened the mix. The song sounded great. From there, John asked me for a song and I started "Fa-Fa-Na-Fa" to his delight. "What else you got?" he asked. I kicked into "Do You Believe in Magic" and damn if we didn't sound like the Spoonful. John then went into "I'm Satisfied" as he and Dawg took the lead. "One more!" called John and moved into "Younger Girl". David and Mark danced together like the song was made for them and, to my mind, it was the best song yet. John and I sang such a close harmony you'd think we were the Everly Brothers.

"Thank you. Thank you. But we got more room on this stage! Let me here you scream for the greatest drummer I know, Levon Helm...Amy Helm, Larry Campbell and Deb O'Flannery." Levon sat down behind his kit to a standing ovation. He kicked right into "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down" and we nailed it. From there, Larry took us into "Tennessee Jed" and I couldn't help but lay out a Garcia-esque guitar solo which brought a smile to Grisman's big beard. We played about 64 bars of a Dead conversation and we were back into the verse to the delight of the other band members and the audience. Then it was "The Weight" followed by "Nashville Cats" which turned into a complete country jamboree. The Amys stepped forward with "Talk Dirty To Me" and the crowd went nuts. We were all having so much fun up there, I couldn't wait to see what the next tune would be. Levon called for "Life Is A Carnival" and after a quick huddle, Larry and Mark kicked it off.

"You can walk on the water, drown in the sand You can fly off a mountaintop if anybody can. Run away, run away--it's the restless age, Look away, look away--you can turn the page, Hey, buddy, would you like to buy a watch real cheap Here on the street? I got six on each arm and two more round my feet. Life is a carnival--believe it or not, Life is a carnival--two bits a shot.

Saw a man with the jinx in the third degree, >From trying to deal with people--people you can't see,...

Life is a carnival--it's in the book, Life is a carnival--take another look... ...Life is a carnival Life is a carnival Life is a carnival."

Fortunately, Larry played the Robbie Robertson part so I didn't have to sweat much as I noodled out an imitation of Allen Toussaint's horn parts. It started off a little too loose but soon tightened up and ended as an all out Second Line. We all laughed and applauded each other when it ended. "We're pro-fessionals here. You can't fuck with us!" shouted Levon.

John then said we had to bring it down a bit and dedicated the next song to The Amys. He broke into "Amy's Tune" and they were absolutely glowing. Levon played brushes as the rest of us took different parts of the song to solo on. We eased out and let John finish the song on harmonica. It was pure magic. John then said as long as we were doing instrumentals, he had Mark, Ed and I start "Harvey's Tune." Levon let out a slow whistle upon recognition and said "Deep, man. Too fucking deep!" Grisman and Campbell stepped back but joined us in a big finish. John then did a little speech about The Breadbasket Project and asked the audience to make donations. He then added, "This show tonight has been sponsored in part by Tesla Motors so please, let's bring out another green wizard, a man with a very small carbon footprint - Elon Musk." Elon stood next to the Amys (and fortunately off mic) as we did an extended version with plenty of space for riffs. During the second break, Campbell and I laid down a funky riff over which Mark and Dawg flew. And somewhere above that, John's harp come in and brought us home. It was about as good a part as I'd heard yet for that song. It was truly electric. And with John and Levon singing harmony to my lead, The Amys soared above us. I was choked up as the audience stood and clapped along. The show was over for us and we waved goodbye. John brought us out in a line and called each of us out for the ovation. We then applauded the audience and left the stage. The audience clapped rhythmically for more and John, alone with his guitar, sang them "Younger Generation" after which they left quietly satisfied.

Backstage was a happy scene with lots of hugs and backslapping. This was one fun gig. I have to credit John Sebastian because it was his attitude that brought us together and made us a band. Begley was beside himself with joy. Grisman and O'Flannery were like long lost brothers. The Amys were killing each other over their song and my Amy hugged me so tight. Levon, John and I joked that old guys can still kick ass. Levon invited us up to his barn in Woodstock for a Ramble. Someone said that they can't wait to see the show on YouTube. I also told them that I'd be recording soon and that I wanted Levon, Amy and Larry on "Talk Dirty" but I wanted to get Mac Rebennack on that session, too. I asked Grisman if he'd be on the sessions with Mark because I wanted to try to recapture their magic. John offered to play on anything, he didn't care so long as he could have this kind of fun again. There were a bunch of group photographs. Before we all broke up, John made an announcement.

"First of all, this was one fucker of a show. What fun! And damn, if we didn't sound great! It was like a Ringo tour! Shit, we even made it through "Life is a Carnival" and it sounded credible..."

"Better than that, man, "said Levon. "That fucker cooked!"

"Well you guys were just super. I can't want to tell Catherine and blog about this on my site. This was the real chicken skin. And now, as a surprise, I had this show recorded. I have the masters right here. I'm going to check 'em out and maybe even release it, if you'll all approve. I'll send all of you dupes just as soon as I can but I really think that this show is a keeper and one for the books. I can't thank the 'Mad Dawgs and American Ramble' more. This was a special treat and I'm so glad you all made it happen. It was a true love fest."

We all hugged again and made our way out where a clutch of fans were waiting to have their programs autographed. Amy grabbed a bunch of programs and we all passed them around signing them for each other. Levon asked me if we might make his gig on San Francisco the next night but as much as I wanted to, I told him that we would be hitting the road again in the morning as we had a schedule to keep and had to make it to Yellowstone. I did promise him that we'd do a ramble in his barn some time soon. I told Elon that we'd be back for the bus around noon and now we were on our way to the hotel. He was nearly in tears. As Ed stood beside him, he seemed to pause and suddenly took on a very serious air.

"Davy, this has been a great ride so far. A few weeks ago, you contacted me about your RV and since then, it has been nothing but an amazing journey. I hope we do a lot of great things together."

"Yeah, well, the display better not go out again!" At first, Elon seemed to be taken aback but then he smiled at me and said "Fuck you, too." and we hugged. I told him we would keep the log going, we would periodically upload the module readings, we would take great pictures for Vanity Fair in Yellowstone, and that I would write a song about Big Chocolate."

Three Tesla Roadsters drove the few blocks to the Hotel Durant. We pulled them into the garage, grabbed our gear and headed for the elevator. Amy, Deb, Mark and Ed were still bubbling but I was feeling beat - that older than dirt feeling. It's a young man's game, I better slow myself down. These are the kind of thoughts that run through my head after a gig. I've been thinking the same thing since 1965. The elevator stopped on the Lobby floor and two couples entered. They had just come from the show and they were surprised and thrilled to see us in the elevator. They loved the show and begged us to let them buy us a drink in the hotel bar. We finally voted and decided to have a nightcap with some fans, something that usually makes me kind of leery. Still, sometimes it can reward you.

Henry's was a nice, quiet pub. We found a couple of tables and pulled them together. I ordered a glass of cognac and a Courvoisier XO came out. Mojitos seemed to be the order of the day except for Mark, who had a single malt and Ed, who had a Racer 5 Pale Ale. An order of Onion Rings, Calamari and sweet plantains filled the table. There was a lot of talk about the concert, the symposium (which they were here to attend) and the amazing Big Chocolate. They told us they'd heard us yesterday and had to see the Zellerbach show. They asked Ed lots of questions and it was an education listening to him. They asked us where we were headed to next and we told them our itinerary. They were quite envious and it was obvious.

Ed turned to me while the others were deep into a discussion about Big Chocolate. Amy was telling them about some of the features. Ed spoke quietly, for my ears only.

"You know that song about Big Chocolate you told Elon about? Do you mind if I have a stab at it. I have some lines in my head that I'd like to get down."

"Do I mind? You go, girl. I can't wait to read it."

We all made it back to our rooms that night after a couple more drinks. We were all a scosche tipsy. I know that we slept well.

Next morning, we were having our breakfast in the room when Ed called from the Lobby. He was about to head back to the symposium but he wanted to tell me that he'd stayed up late writing and he'd emailed his song to me. I told him I'd check it out immediately. I logged on and clicked on Ed's email. This is what I found.

(The Ballad of) Big Chocolate

"Got a full house, rolling down the street Got my baby right beside me, Got our dog under her feet Got my buddy and his fiddle by his side, Got his missus looking sweet.

Got an upstairs terrace, got a dumbwaiter, too, Got a shower with a lot of heads, to hit you where want them to, Got solar heated water and a cold box full of brew.

Big Chocolate keeps rolling, Big Chocolate keeps rocking, Big Chocolate keeps reeking, Big Chocolate keeps going and going and going and going...

Got tiltable beds and big TV screens, Got a clothing dryer and a washing machine, Got a toilet that flushes when you eat too much pork and beans.

Runs on diesel, lithium and solar cells, With a smaller footprint, it's green to the extreme, With all the extras, whistles and bells, It's the travelers' motorized traveling dream. It's Bran, Elon and Ed's Big Chocolate Supreme.

Got a full house, rolling down the street Got my baby right beside me, Got our dog under her feet Got my buddy and his fiddle, Got his missus looking sweet. And when I pull out my guitar, and light up a cigar, everything's complete.

Big Chocolate keeps rolling, Big Chocolate keeps rocking, Big Chocolate keeps reeking, Big Chocolate keeps us going and going and going....easygoing and going and going and gone."

I was flabbergasted, to say the least. I emailed it to Mark immediately. Amy and I kept reading it aloud over and over and rolling with laughter.

About ten minutes later, Mark and Deb came in raving about the song. We agreed to work on the music on our way to Yosemite and maybe fix some of the rhymes...and 'the pork and beans' verse...too much information! We packed up and checked out of the hotel, still humming and reciting the words. We walked Santo around the block with it on our minds. The Roadsters were stuffed, ready and waiting for us and we drove them up to the campus for the last time. Big Chocolate was ready and waiting for us, too, fully cleaned, tweaked and fueled up. Ed and Elon were waiting for us and they were in animated conversation.

"Ed, your song is priceless." said Amy.

"We're going to work on the music while we travel. Do you mind if we tweak it?" asked Mark.

"Fuck the song, you guys. I sold out all my stock of Ed's Special Cleaners!" We laughed and congratulated him. He told us that he was leaving for LA. in a few minutes because his TV Show was going back into production and he had a movie role lined up in a Judd Apatow movie. Again we wished him well. I thanked them all but I was really trying to get away and they sensed it. Susan pulled Amy aside and told her that they had 'refreshed' the refrigerator with food and that she had left a Bon Voyage gift in the galley tableware drawer. Susan also appeared to be hitting on Amy, who seemed to be enjoying the flirt.

We pulled out of Pimental Hall and headed for the road to Yosemite. It was a fairly direct route and the sky was clearing. Take 580 to 99, through Modesto and straight to Yosemite. Nothing to it. As we passed through Modesto, Amy wondered what the big chemical facility was and after surfing the web discovered that it was the Gallo Winery. I commented that a chemical factory and the Gallo Winery were one and the same and that we should stop and get some Thunderbird cheap but then wasn't it already? Amy pointed out the bus was loaded with great bottles from the Napa...real wine...no light green glass. "What's the word? Thunderbird! What's the price? Thirty twice!" We had a good laugh at Gallo's expense.

George called a few minutes later and said that he couldn't meet us in Yosemite - things had come up but that he and Sarah would definitely meet us in Yellowstone. He said he'd call us again in a couple of days.

We drove along Route 120 until we found Yosemite Lakes RV Park nestled in Yosemite Valley - Ansel Adams and John Muir country. It was a rustic place with good facilities and it was centrally located to the park. We set up Big Chocolate while Amy and Deb walked Santo. I opened the tableware drawer and pulled out Susan's gift - a bag of pot and, holy shit(!), some mushrooms! I lit a doob from the stash and it was mighty tasty. I looked to see if maybe she'd left her panties the tablewear drawer, too, but no such luck!

We sang as we set up the bus:

"Big Chocolate keeps us rolling, Big Chocolate keeps us rocking, Big Chocolate keeps us reeking, Big Chocolate keeps us going and going and going and going and going..."

We already had a good chorus and the makings of a good theme song with some differet beats provided by the little drum machine. Now, we settled in and prepared for our next adventure.

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: "Magical Mystery Tour", Lennon and McCartney., "Tennessee Blues", Robert Charles Guidry., "Hard Nose The Highway", Van Morrison., "an's Temptation", Percy Mayfield., "Rainbows All Over Your Blues", John Sebastian., "Life Is A Carnival", Robbie Robertson. copyright2017 The Ol' Hippie