TOUR DIARY: SAN FRANCISCO – DAY ONE OF FOUR

Oh well, this is quite nice indeed. Oh my goodness yes. They’ve put me up in the Argonaut Hotel, which is right at Fisherman’s Wharf. It’s an old cannery but has now become a swank hotel. They replaced all the cans with swank. I can look out of my window and see Alcatraz and boats and lots of tourists. The only drag is that I packed my toothbrush next to the deodorant. And the deodorant's cap came off. Aaaaand then I brushed my teeth.

Last night, my media escort David Golia drove me two hours (!) down the coast to Capitola, California, which is indeed right near Santa Cruz. Across the street, they told me. I was appearing at the Capitola Book Café and my name was up in reader board letters. Not quite a name up in lights but still new and thrilling to me. We had a good turn out as I spoke from a round information desk thingy. I read parts of the book about the Rexburg, Idaho mayor who renounces the Republican Party, the dawning of my Nixon man-crush, and I added my Toby Keith concert chewing tobacco hallucinations. That last part was new but seemed to go well.

In the front row was a guy in a cowboy hat, grey camouflage (I’ve never understood that – is it to hide among trees made of cement?), and , I kid you not, a toothpick in his mouth. So here I was making all these jokes about the right and all the while thinking, “I wonder if this guy is a representative of a lynch mob? And if so, what are the odds that the hippies in attendance would be prepared to fend them off?” But nope, just a regular guy.

David, the media escort, is a musician and big time music geek. In the four hours of round trip driving we had plenty of time to talk rock. It sometimes stuns me how much information about pop music I’ve amassed over the years. Perhaps this is my next book, something about pop music. Or I could leverage all that sports knowledge I’ve gathered up.

Just got off the phone with a reporter in Milwaukee who is doing a print piece on the book, then off to sign books at various stores, and finally read and sign at Books, Inc. in San Francisco.

I find myself with time on my hands for the first time in a while. Family’s at home. There are readings and interviews but they’re spread out. So I instantly convert that free time to stress: now is when I should accomplish ALL those things I’ve meant to do. Now. In the next two hours.

CONTEST: FIRST PERSON TO SAY TO ME “YOUR BOOK IS LIKE A CHALUPA BUT STUFFED WITH INSIGHT” AT ONE OF THE READINGS, GETS A PRIZE.