on the way to nowhere. Fogerty asked me a bit about the rain, Floyd told me about money, Henley was worried about some boys because it was summer, Frampton kept asking someone to show him the way. I hoped it wasn't me, I had no idea where I was headed. Until I stopped to write this. And when I got here the Animals told me about a house in New Orleans. On the way, between songs I figured out the meaning of life but I didn't think anyone would believe it or me, so I didn't bother to write it down. Now, I can't remember what it was. It will come back to me again, someday, maybe. My eyes are on fire as the sweat rolls down into them. I'm watching the boats cruise by freely from the confines of my car. I think of how my mind is like the water: always changing and it never stops moving. As goes life: the only constant is that everything changes. ...and it hit me again, just now, the meaning of life, and it makes sense to me, but you still wouldn't believe me if I told you. I have to get going anyway. It's a long ride back, but not long enough.