In Memory of a Prisoner By Lalove Foster Dovey Smalls looked much the way I had imagined her from her name—small and slender, alert and watchful, like a brown dove. Her hands shook periodically during our interview, a feature that … Continue reading →
Category Archives: Pocatello
One thing people quickly learn about me is that I have “railroad blood.” My fascination with trains has been lifelong. When I was a toddler, my father Chilton Phoenix, a World War II vet, was studying law at Stanford University.
One day I wandered away from the student housing where my folks were living. Soon after, the search party my mother organized found me a few blocks away, in diapers, with my little red wagon, waving to a commuter train. Dad had once taken me there to see trains and wave at the engineer, so I knew the way. Continue reading
We loaded in early to the Flipside Lounge in Pocatello, parked the rig, and hit the closest espresso joint to shake off the cragginess. It’s the first gig on a nineteen-date tour, and everyone is getting along. So far. This time out we have two bands—RevoltRevolt and a punk band supporting us called Mindrips—which means eight guys in a RV pulling a trailer. It sleeps six in beds, one person takes the floor, and I take the roof. Viva la stench! Continue reading