I remember being 3 years old and voluntarily and excitedly following the nurse into the operating room, with Barbie in tow, for security. I remember hoping on the bed, laying back and a minty flavored mask being placed over my nose and mouth. Barbie got one too. I remember being carried outside to the car, in my father's arms. The sunlight was painfully bright, but I couldn't see a single thing, due to the patches placed over my eyes. I'm not sure if my first memory was that corrective eye surgery, but it sure stands out.

I remember sitting next to Meme in the car, squeezing her doughy hand, on the way to Beavers Bend. It was one of the most comfortable places I could have been. My family was on our way to one of the numerous traditional trips to the beautiful Oklahoma state park. I don't remember how old I was.

It was my 17th Halloween. I remember slamming on the breaks of the blue Taurus Meme willed to me after her death, three days after my 16th birthday, only to crash into the passenger side of the tiny car. I was going 55 miles an hour and pushed it all the way into a pole on the other side of the street. I remember the air bag inflating and my adrinaline pulsating through my body. My immediate concern was my 13 year old sister in the passenger seat. I got out, went around and pulled her out of the car so fast, it's the only part I don't really remember. We stood shaking, then sitting, as cars began to slow down and stop, then ask for my parent's phone number. The male driver from the other car emerged wearing a dress, high heels, and a blond wig. His absent passenger would have perished, I'm certain now.

I remember our family trip to Anchorage to visit my aunt and uncle. We went salmon fishing and I caught my first and only fish in life, thus far. My uncle was so proud, he gave me a kiss on the lips. I don't remember my age.

I have lots of memories. But the reality is, I've lost most of the ones I've made. It's the simple truth and unfortunate fact of being a human. And without audio, video, or film documentation, even more of them could have vanished. When I discovered writing and drawing, an entirely new creative form of preserving memories was at my fingertips. Even more confusing, though, is the idea that bad memories seem to stick around longer than the good ones.

I'm certain there are many memories from this tour that I will not have to write down or take pictures of in order for them to remain imprinted in one of my brain wrinkles (to take from a lyric in one of the songs from our gracious hosts' band French Films about Trains in Cologne, MN). However, as one may be able to tell, I'm not taking too many chances by posting these online thoughts, taking pictures and keeping my own little personal journal.

Minneapolis was awesome. I'm glad we visited and they played in September, because I don't like the cold, and the weather was perfect. Same for Cologne and Chicago. We've had beautiful fall weather and have been really really fortunate. The show was successful in Minneapolis, even though it transformed from practically an acoustic show to a straight up techno dance club within minutes. Our hosts were so so wonderful. They shared their food, cooking more than once, floor space, bicycles and wisdom. I got to see an old Okie friend and ride around on a bike for about 2 hours, along gardens and creeks and through greenways. I did yoga and picked up some tidbits for the book.

In Cologne, our hosts played music, loaned us their family canoe, gave us each our own beds, not to mention cooked the most amazingly delicious dinner of vegan chili and beer bread and breakfast of muffins and hot apple granola crisp before we made the long drive to Chicago. I went running along the farm roads lined with corn and marveled at the leaves changing to colors of yellows, reds and oranges that I forgot even existed.

Chicago has been so nice and familiar and relaxing. I'm staying with a friend from my Peace Corps days and it has been enjoyable to have freedom and alone time. I'll be making the drive back to Norman in a couple of days to renew our rental car and attend a good friend's wedding, before meeting the guys in Michigan to head onto Buffalo, NY. Detours in life just help to get us back on track, right?