Spent the night in Boise, Idaho, with my college roommate, Jim. He’s a lawyer and also the king of an island in Idaho.
I met him in the bar of the Modern Hotel, which seemed like the kinda place that would happen if somebody went to the Standard in LA and said “We should do this in Boise!” and then they went back to Boise and bought a really upscale Motel 6 and fixed it up. It was great.
Then we had dinner at the Saint Lawrence Gridiron . Delicious. Except. We got these tequila drinks that weren’t quite margaritas, but one of the ingredients was rock salt, and then they came and THERE WAS NO SALT ON THE RIM! So Jim asked the waiter where the salt was, and he told us it was actually mixed into the drink to give it a creamier mouthfeel. “Exploring the roots of American cuisine” indeed. Who can forget when Merriweather Lewis first tasted the waters of the Columbia River, and turned to William Clark and said, “This is great! Taste this…” and Clark was like “It… needs a creamier mouthfeel,” and then Sacagewea was ll like “Oh FFS you guys!” Also when they brought the roasted chicken I ordered (which was good) it LOOKED like when a chicken loses all its feathers in a cartoon- just a naked, glistening, white, headless chicken carcass. Like, it didn’t look cooked. It WAS, but it didn’t look it. Anyway, the mouthfeel was fine.
Then we went to a bar and solved all of each other’s and everybody’s and the world’s problems.
It’s tough when you live far away from people you care about, because you don’t get to see them as often as you would like. That’s been one of the great things about this tour so far. Last few years, Jim and I have done pretty well at seeing each other once or twice a year. This was a great excuse. Even though I didn’t have a show in Boise, it was one of my favorite stops yet.