August 4, I-80 Westbound, Nebraska somewhere.

How To Write a Tour Dairy*
(*actual pamphlet found backstage at Uncle Fester's, Bloomington, IN)

TALK ABOUT THE MUSIC EACH NIGHT, BUT BE BRIEF ABOUT OTHER DETAILS

Which means we shouldn't wax poetic about Jason's mom's homemade ice cream sandwiches in Bloomington, the hours spent in the bus the next
day driving up to Traverse City in northern Michigan. We shouldn't talk about the fantastical swim we had in Lake Michigan after our set at the Dunegrass Festival,
the sun setting over the ocean- er, lake- as we pretended we were back home in California and the Pacific had suddenly turned warm and fresh and smooth. If we're going to talk about the music we could talk about Sylvain and Mouzhan playing old
timey mandolin and fiddle for us in the bus, at Nelson Ledges, late night at Dunegrass, and anywhere else we have a spare minute. And then there's Space Blaster, Mike Abraham, Sylvain and Jason's surf-spaghetti-metal band, with Ezra filling in on bass,
which has rocked a 'tweener set in Bloomington and Cedar Rapids. Or maybe we could talk about Aphrodesia, but that would be too easy.

DON'T MENTION DRUGS OR ALCOHOL OR ANYTHING THAT COULD REFLECT NEGATIVELY ON YOUR BAND

Which means we can't talk about draining the keg in the beer tent at Dunegrass, greeting the dawn there and in Nelson Ledges, the champagne on the Lake
Michigan beach, the utter helplessness with which the backstage liquor has succumbed to our embrace on most nights. We should instead emphasize that Mouzhan has
christened this tour the 'Get Fit Tour' and the name has stuck- we are alternating sit-up days and push-up days, getting up early to run laps around the hotel or lake or
campground where we are staying. Earlier tours required decompression afterwards, a regimen of excersize and healthy eating to get rid of the spare tire we picked up sitting around the bus, backstage, hotel parking lots and random strangers' living rooms. This
time most of us look to come home in better shape than we left, reasonably prompting our friends to ask 'who are you and what have you done with Aphrodesia?'

IT'S GOOD TO MENTION OTHER BANDS AND MUSICIANS, BUT DON'T EXCESSIVELY NAME DROP.

Which means we can't mention the late night jam-and-drinking session/parade with members of Cornmeal, Railroad Earth and Vince Herman at Dunegrass, the fact that Buckethead cleared the entire backstage for his set
there just so that no one would see his head without his bucket, the time we almost threw a baseball through the window of Donna the Buffalo's tour bus at the Silver Maple festival in Comstock Park, Michigan or watching Grace Potter try on dresses with Lara
in a tent at Dunegrass.

DON'T SAY ANYTHING NEGATIVE ABOUT ANY VENUE OR PROMOTER

Which means mum's the word about Chicago, where a sports bar named Duffy's mystifyingly paid us to play a near empty room full of TV's tuned to
sports channels and a few nonchalant customers chomping on burgers. We can't mention the sketchy fly by night promoters in Colorado, who have pulled out of our
shows at the last minute, leaving us to scramble for new arrangements with the clubs themselves just so we can get onstage again.

BE POSITIVE, BUT DON'T BRAG OR BOAST EXCESSIVELY

Which means we can't talk about how good it feels to deliver a tight smack in the face from the stage when all 11 of our gears are working in sync the way they have been. We can't mention the fact that the band is
sounding better than ever, the horn section rearing its head at the right moments, the rhythm section relentless, Lara captivating. We can't compare ourselves to the other
bands we share stages with, the trios and quartets of loose funk that look like a bedraggled mob of retirees compared to our crisp marching band formations after we're done with the crowd.

BE STRAIGHTFORWARD IN YOUR TOUR DIARY; DON'T USE CONFUSING GIMMICKS.

Which means we can't make up a pamphlet found backstage as an excuse for being cute with this tour dairy entry. Damn.