Chapter 7

I found myself in downtown Sioux Falls at some traveling beer festival after midnight. Mini Kiss
played the headline. I've never been a huge Kiss fan. I tried to get into them when all of my friends were but I couldn't. Not saying here that a couple of their songs haven't been emblazoned across my memory. They have. But to be able to meet this band of midgets or little people or whatever the hell their handle is today, was one of my best times on this book tour. Turned out Joey Fatale, the band's creator and lead, is a writer himself. Gave him my email. I have to read this guy's shit. I really do. Here he's holding a copy of March of Time and Skin that I gave him in trade for their set, which was hypnotizing. If you get a chance to catch them, then catch them.

I sat in a jazz club and had a drink before driving onward. Heading to a small town about 40 miles south. The moon is low and blood orange over the cornfields and plains to the west of 29 south. Sioux Falls Rock City...