Bags are packed, ready to go, taxi’s waiting…

I’m on the go these days NYC (featuring a insider, underground stroll through West Greenwich Village), San Jose (featuring a herbal medical stop California style) and now London UK where i am surrounding by folks yabbering in mobile phones (among other things) …

I reckon i am a bit annoyed and grumpy from not sleeping. I cut my finger on a trade show sign and overfilled my bathtub at an absurdly fancy hotel almost causing a major flood. Couldn’t sleep so took a long walk around grand buildings (i recognized the House of Parliament from the picture on HP sauce bottle) and considered other ways to benefit the world from such immense labours whilst sitting in a quiet St. James park where i found a massive weeping willow tree which completely disappeared the world momentarily.

Thought about Robert Hunter (Grateful Dead lyricist) writing about “Going to plant a weeping willow, On the bank’s green edge it will grow, grow, grow. Sing a lullaby beside the water, Lovers come and go, the river roll, roll, roll – Fare you well, fare you well, I love you more than words can tell, Listen to the river sing sweet songs, to rock my soul.” He wrote Brokedown Palace (as well as Ripple and To Lay me Down” right here in London while his amigos were out carousing.

House of Parliament in London

Came back to schmancy hotel with achy legs and still couldn’t sleep so ordered french onion soup and a Guinness from room service (insert pound sign here to denote that this was some damn expensive soup and drink) and watched car racing on the telly – all freaking night tossing and turning (do you know i am a finicky sleeper?) even after hand-fulls of tablets and moments of meditation. ugh – not complaining, just observing.

Of course my podcast-o-rator machine is usually in tow so much nonsensical observations and infused ramblings coming down the Choogle on pipe one of these days …the editing part sucks.

Missing my baby in North Van so much that i am singing John Denver songs in my head and because i am a shameless romantic, i am telling you this:

All my bags are packed
I’m ready to go
I’m standin’ here outside your door
I hate to wake you up to say goodbye
But the dawn is breakin’
Its early morn
The taxis waitin’
Hes blowin’ his horn
Already I’m so lonesome
I could die (cry? sigh? try?)
So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you’ll wait for me
Hold me like you’ll never let me go
cause I’m leavin’ on a jet plane
Don’t know when Ill be back again
Oh babe, I hate to go