Mon., Dec. 1, 1997, Boulder Station Casino, Las Vegas, NV -- We had headed out from Phoenix at 9:30 this morning with me driving...I had gotten the most sleep. Seems Joanna was having pregnancy-related trouble sleeping. She was just drifting off at 6:30 a.m. when Darnell, who had been slumbering peacefully, suddenly sat up in bed and began talking in a strange voice that Joanna identified as her dad, who had died last April. It freaked Jo and Darnell out, but putting on my minister's hat, I indicated to Joanna that her dad had been following her around and not moving on. Her dad had been repeating that he was sorry through Darnell, and Jo said her dad had been trying to say something to her as he was dying in the hospital. So I told her to forgive her dad and to tell Darnell if it happens again, to tell her dad to move on into the light. My reverendly duties completed we arrived in L.V. around 4 p.m. just in time to load in and set up with a sound check before the 5 p.m. deadline (here's a view from behind the drums after I set up). The Station Casinos are a chain, this one on Boulder Avenue, thus the name, recalling the old gambling trains in olden days. The place is absolutely huge with literally acres of slot machines and other systems of depriving ne'er-do-wells of their cash. We were the blues band for the casino's Monday night blues series, which now was up against Monday night football shown on no fewer than SIX big screen TVs on the stage, so we didn't get started until about 10 p.m. Correspondingly, the crowd was small, but the sound was great and the people very nice and helpful. After the gig, Joanna, Darnell and I followed the sound man, Bob, to the Sand Dollar Blues Lounge jam. I sat in on the last three tunes with a fun little band with a great stand-up bass player. Check out time from the casino-hotel was not until 1 p.m., and our next gig isn't till Thursday, so we took our time, pigging out at the truly decadant buffet.