We are at gate C17 at PDX. It's 730 am, and we are waiting to board our 8:30 flight to Philly. Kenny is sleeping off his morning sickness on the floor of the terminal. (Kenny has strange eating habits, including the inability to eat in the morning; I'm told that he drank Ensure every breakfast in high school). We are killing time by talking to a nice lady with glasses and curly, knotted brown hair. She has a pentagram and an upside-down cross puff painted onto her bag, along with the words, "No gods, no masters." I guess she's a Satanist? She doesn't look it though; she has a tie-dyed sweatshirt sticking out of her bag; she's wearing glasses; her knotted brown hair isn't reminiscent of a Satan worshipper—more of a librarian. She's kind of dorky really. She seems awfully nice for a Satanist—kind of like Roman Castevet, the sweet old neighbor to Rosemary in Rosemary's Baby who turns out to be the most worst and most terrifying Satanist of them all. She offered us cherries awkwardly while spilling water on her pants and becoming embarrassed. She's originally from Philly and was looking for a place to live. Just like everyone else, Portland was her first thought for a new place to move. She said it wasn't quite the vibe she wanted though: "It sounds really trite to say, but I want something more radical." Don't we all?

In other news Josh, is starting to read his first book in nine years. He's borrowing The Hobbit From Kenny. Josh started reading it when we were waiting on the tarmac. As the plane took off from the runway, Bilbo's adventure began. Josh felt that this was symbolic of our journey. Josh also feels he is a hobbit now. He is now on page 90 of the book. We will give you page updates on each subsequent post.

Corey, who did not travel with Kenny, Josh, and me, spent his time making friends from L.A. He sat next to someone going to medical school in Newcastle, England. Corey is reading David Foster Wallace's Oblivion. This is what Corey saw in the Dallas: 

The flight for Kenny, Josh and me was quick and painless into Philly. Josh and I read the whole way. I'm reading Musicophilia by Oliver Sacks. We don't really know what Kenny did for the entire flight. He says he pretty much sat there next to a couple of old people and drifted in and out of a dream state.

We landed in Philly and ate some horrible MSG and corn syrup "Chinese" food, then felt immediately sick. In order to recoup some of our losses, we busked in the airport for about an hour. I don't have a bass with me, so I played Kenny's mandolin. We made 10 bucks each.

We boarded our international flight to find a completely insane woman sitting next to us (my guess is some combination of mania, booze and benzodiazepines). She talked a mile a minute incoherently while consistently claiming she was sober. I was happy to have my noise-canceling headphones. We landed and met up with Corey and our tour manager, Owl. We went for a run, ate some food and went to the yard to pack up the van. I installed a pickup on the bass I'll be using for the next month.

Tomorrow we play our first show of the tour: a 400-capacity venue in Shepherd's Bush, London, called Bush Hall. The plan is to get some good sleep then go to an interview with BBC London, then head over to sound check. Hopefully some London people will show up.