|Bob holds court after the show|
Bob seemed taken with the Music Farm and came back out to chat at length with fans after cooling down from his performance. As usual, some fans had driven considerable distances to see the show, Bob's first in Charleston.
With Jon en route to NY, it fell to me to give Amy Rigby a ride back to her motel. The storybook ending to this tour would have been for her to invite me in, but, alas, her storybook must be different from mine.
Friday morning was sunny, but the weather had turned cold. I left Charleston at 8am with a cup of Waffle House coffee. When I got to I-95, I took one look at it, said "Nah...," and elected to continue west to pick up the I-77/81/84 route. I stopped exactly three times during the trip home, to fill the Camry's tank and empty mine, and made excellent time until I ran into a snowstorm in the Poconos. Despite the setback, I covered the 1116 miles in 15 hours flat, reaching home in time for the 11:00 news miraculously unencumbered by any fresh speeding tickets. Bob was less fortunate; he managed to add two new speeding tickets to his collection during the tour:
|Top five things not to say to the arresting officer when stopped for speeding in Georgia:|
|5. Bet I could get that gun away from you.|
|4. Don't take it out on me just because Andy won't let you turn on the siren.|
|3. What's the matter? Run out of civil rights workers to lynch?|
|2. Obviously you've mistaken me for the Waffle House delivery boy.|
|1. It's okay, officer: I'm from NEW YORK!|
My total mileage for the tour was 3289, not a bad week's work, considering all the non-driving-related activities I managed to cram into my schedule. The Camry's developed an even nastier oil habit since April, and I'm not sure how much longer we'll be partners on these adventures. It'll be interesting to see which of us gives out first. Until then, see you on the road.
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