July 19: We stayed at the Hotel Weston (i.e., Bob's house), pleasant as always. Slow getting out of town, picking up some gear. Picking up some sandwiches. Watching the endless rain coming down and feeling sorry for everyone who is at Pitchfork today. What can we do -- we're playing in Detroit tonight.
Well, there's one thing you can say about Michigan -- it's one helluva lot flatter than Massachusetts.
[We asked Roger Miller to give us an insider's view of Mission of Burma's trip to this weekend's big Pitchfork blowout in Chicago, and thence to Detroit. The words and photos that follow are all his.]
JULY 18: Airports: fuck 'em. Before 911 (Bush's illegitimate ticket to bring that glorious "1984" idea to fruition: endless vague fear), airports were bad enough.