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I'm in Las Vegas, Nevada. And, I have VERY GOOD NEWS. My new album "Thirteen Songs About Love" is done! The CDs arrived a few weeks ago, and I have started shipping them out. If you haven't ordered it yet, now is the time! Also, there is a limited supply of signed, numbered CDs for sale on my web site. Click here to get one. I've also set my site up so that you can buy MP3 downloads of songs from the album for only $0.99 each!

My US Tour is almost complete—I will be back in San Francisco in less than two weeks! So, thank you to all the wonderful people who have let me into their lives during the last nine months!

If you believe in what I am doing and want to help support me, please do so! Check out my web site or email me for more information!

US Tour Day 248: The Midwest

Only in the Midwest: The world's largest ketchup bottle.

There are two funny things about the Midwest. (Ok, there are actually way more than two. But, I'll start with two for now.)

1) The words mid and west imply that the area is in a certain place. A foreigner might guess that it is in the middle of the country for the most part with a bit more to the west. This couldn't be more wrong. Starting from the East Coast the Midwest begins as soon as you hit the New York State border—perhaps sooner, depending on who you ask.

That is because the term Midwest no longer refers to a geographical region as much as a lifestyle, a culture, a nation within a nation. This is not unique to the Midwest, though. The South and the East Coast are also examples of regions of this country that are more about culture than location—no matter what the name might suggest.

2) There is a common misconception that there are many, many farms in the Midwest. This is not true. The actual truth is that there is only one farm in the Midwest. It begins at the New York State border and continues as far west as the Utah border without taking a single break in between. It spans rivers, valleys, mountains, canyons, and, well—OK, no it doesn't, actually. It can't, because there actually aren't any valleys, mountains, canyons, or anything bumpy or interesting in the massive farm universe that swallows the center of the United States. Maybe there used to be such landscape decorations, but they seem to have all been bulldozed to make way for more agriculture.

There's a church here and there and the occasional shop. But, it seems as if there is a battle as to which will prevail—churches and shops or the agricultural sprawl.

Driving along the long, flat ribbon of road through the infinite fields of whatever they're growing makes me long for anywhere but here. I find myself daydreaming of places that aren't even good to begin with—Morgan Hill, California, Beatty, Nevada, Elgin, Texas, Rocky Hill, Connecticut.

Soon I will find the way out of this vast Christian farmstravaganza, though. I have three days to get all the way to Austin, and I can't wait to be there.