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Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

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So we got to see more of Boulder than we otherwise would have. That afternoon Bart and Chris and I had lunch and wandered around the pedestrian mall in the center of town, poking around stores selling nifty Western minerals and kites and mountaineering gear. In a bookstore we saw our publicity photo was on the cover of Rocker, what do you know. I didn’t buy it. We hung out for a little while in the mainstream record shop where Jason worked, shooting the shit. He was looking forward to tonight, and I guess I was, too. The mountains stood like a curtain on one side of us and I found myself kind of orienting to them as we walked around, like knowing where downtown was in New York by the World Trade Center.

We went back to the hotel to change clothes and pick up the guitars before heading over to the hall. I was sorting through T-shirts when Ziggy came to the door of my room. “Hey,” he said, and sat on the bed where I was laying shirts out.

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