I leave for Nevada again in about sixteen hours or so. I figure a departure time of about 1am will get me to the Nugget in Sparks by mid-afternoon, and give me time to settle in to my hotel room and take a nap before setting up and sound-checking. I'm feeling anxious, getting wound up for a brief two-week run, this weekend at the Nugget, then the next at the Carson Valley Inn. Then another two weeks at home, followed by a seven-week, six-gig run that will (at least as far as I know) really wind up my schedule for the year. After September, I'll only have four gigs in Nevada for the rest of the year (one in October, during the weekend of Joy's birthday, then three weeks in mid-December, coming home on Christmas Eve). Of course, that's always subject to change.
I think that ought to be on my tombstone:
Here Lies Joe Franklin
February 7, 1969 - xxxxxxxx xx, xxxx
(dates subject to change)
I know, I'm being morbid. But at least it's a silly kind of morbid. Hey, I'm the one going through sleep deprivation while trying to come up with some deep thoughts. Well, I need to go get my set broken down and packed up for the trip. I won't let myself go to bed until around noon, so that a good rest will mean waking up around 8 or 9pm tonight. That poor old body clock of mine - it's pretty much just a puddle on the floor by now.
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