It Was a Long Time Coming

When I came to California in 1984 my friend and ex-bandmate Jeff, from Minnesota, was already here, and he kept saying, “You’ve got to go out to the desert, man, come on, let’s go to the desert,” and I thought, what kind of idiot purposely goes to the desert? I pictured what everyone who’s never been to the desert pictures: endless miles of flat dirt and blazing sun. No life anywhere, no breeze. Or the Sahara desert of the movies: giant sand dunes and blazing sun and camels and Bedouins with swords to lop off your noggin. That’s what I thought of when Jeff said, “desert.”

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