The morning traffic in LA isn't bad at all when we get moving out of the city. We scoot right up 101 and catch I-5 with no problem, driving in the dry mountains with those huge water-pumping tubes that always remind me of the movie Chinatown. Then we hit the long flat central valley and make good time to San Francisco. At a rest stop we coincidentally run into the Purrs. I guess we're synchronized bladder buddies now. I do most of the driving but hand off to Herman to bring us into the city. Though its nothing compared to LA, San Francisco gets you with its density and crazy moves. It is at war with all drivers, no parking ever and 15 rules on every signpost. Only New York City is as hard as downtown SF. We pass the Hotel Utah, see a spot right in front, but cannot manuever over in time. We crawl around the block back to it, and miraculously the spot is still there.

The Hotel Utah is really cool, we had already heard it was. There is a huge wooden bar with arches and mirrors and a very Western saloon vibe. The stage area seems almost carved from the wall, and theres a really cool balcony where you are right over the stage and up close. Anyhow, we have tons of time to kill, and there's no way we're getting rid of our parking spot, so we have some beers and eat. The club is nice enough to feed us from their "traveling band" menu and we chat with the bartender Tracy a bit. She's a super-tall gorgeous woman and she tells us how she used to play pro women's basketball in Switzerland, which is certainly a fascinating detail from inside a freaky San Francisco bar.
A bunch of old friends start trickling, including a bunch of friends of mine from my Champaign record store days. Rob and Herman had some legions of old skoolers show up too. Oh we took a lovely stroll down memory lane, what good times. Anyhow, the show is great, a bunch of people show up ready to rock out. I friggin' love San Francisco, every show I've ever played here has been awesome, it is just populated with great fun curious people. A big fuzzy bearded wierdo comes up and starts bugging me for a cigarette. He keeps buggin me and I keep telling him I don't smoke. Then he pulls up his shirt and shows me his Little Pieces belt buckle. It is Robert Ragle in disguise, our beloved friend and architect of many amazing parties in the Bay area. He and his wife Cathy need to be cloned to make this world a better place, but I'm sure I'll get to that in the San Jose blog, because we're playing one of those madcap parties at the end of this tour.
A group called Mad Denizen opened the show, it's two guys with acoustic guitars and a drummer. Some of their songs were constructed almost like a metal band, with fast acoustic rockouts. We play second and it is fun and rocking, with people right up front and balcony filled right above our heads. It is pretty darn perfect. All of our new stuff is so fun to play and totally zapping folks. After us, a local band called Hey Brontasaurus played, it was a big five piece that seemed like a wall of people on the little stage. They were more of a country/smoky nightclub style of ensemble. The Purrs then played and had a good set. They are smart enough to bring their own lights, which always sparkle up the drums, wall, and the 30,000 guitar pedals they use real purty-like.
We were kind of casting our net out all night to see where we could stay. We have a place in Berkeley, but it just seems so far for our plans the next day, which are downtown and then south to Monterey. Security is a big issue too in this town, so many bands I know have been ripped off here. Stunningly, we are offered a free hotel right downtown from Rob's high school prom date Leah, who now lives here. As unreal as it sounds, we end up with secure valet parking and a top floor room at the Westin, overlooking downtown, Golden Gate bridge, and Alcatraz Island. That's what happens when you treat your prom date nicely I guess. It was pretty sweet waking up as Little Pieces in the morning. Thanks everybody!