The Mountain Goats sensed that their fans in the western United States were feeling neglected.
The Mountain Goats, sensitive to the needs of their fans, set out to make things right.

 

Texas was first. This is Lubbock.

 

Lone Star unaccompanied by United States flag, a common sight.
In what other state does this happen?

 

Texas is big.

 

Texas frequently defies explanation.

 

Dressing room, Dallas.
I've written, "Please stop drawing cocks & balls
in dressing rooms. Thank you. It's bumming me out."

 

More desperate, futile pleas: Houston.

 

Children dressed in medieval robes swordfight beside
Mark di Suvero's Bygones outside the Menil Collection in Houston.

 

The Art Car Museum, Houston.

 

Baptist Generals soundcheck, Austin.

 

Empty, empty Texas.

 

Arts district, Phoenix. Seriously.

 

I got a Cardinals antenna ball with two tacos in Phoenix.

 

California, the world's fifth largest economy, second largest collection of morons.

 

The Pacific Ocean.

 

We did a photoshoot overlooking Chavez Ravine
with Dodger Stadium in the background.

 

The photoshoot moved to an empty apartment overlooking this strange back yard.

 

Max took our pictures. Max is awesome.

 

Ah, the Valley.

 

Cardinal Jack was only slightly worse for wear by the time we passed Mt Shasta
and quietly slipped out of California. Four days later the citizens of our former
home state elected Arnold fucking Schwarzeneggar as their new governor.
Congratulations, idiots — you win!