Chapter 1

Those two weeks in the fall of 2006 had changed lives. To start with, all of the 3 Amigas have tattoos which in one way or another commemorated their time together. Coded dates and cryptic references in 2 of the tattoos contained all three of their initials. A third tattoo that applied during that weekend when they all got together was hidden (usually) under another's hair. They were, without question, bonded for life. Brought together at first by an interest in star musicians, their friendships had bloomed into something much more that an appreciation for Dave Navarro. So when Navarro's band, The Panic Channel, had announced they would actually tour and play shows in New York City, it was natural that the three would begin to scheme and dream about an opportunity to recapture some of that buzz that had occurred during Miffy's American Adventure.

But two years is a long time and much can change in that time. For Miffy, it was time to go back across the Atlantic Ocean and write Chapter Two of her American Adventure. Her health was as good as it had ever been, her cat Dude had settled into his life in her cottage nicely and Miffy was restless. Frequent jaunts into London to see major rock acts soothed her some as well as awed her American friends, but she couldn't get that time she had spent in America out of her mind. The freedom, joy and rejuvenation she had experienced was something she hadn't known since before her health turned and personal challenges that some were refer to as tragedies had invaded her life. Fall 2006 was an indelible memory that had altered her life, although if pressed she would not be able to explain how, really.

Jenn had traveled further than she had ever imagined was possible for her weekend away, in more ways than one. Leaving her son behind had been difficult, but the benefits she derived from that time with her two amigas was still paying dividends. Life had suddenly become more intense, with sensations and joys easier and richer. What had been SO traumtic before was now something that could be rolled off her back like rainwater on a duck. The young mother had mellowed, although she would call you crazy and threatened to kick you in the nuts if you suggested it to her. But the trip from New Mexico to Virginia had been cathartic for her and the two year interim had given her time to build up sufficient pressure inside for another adventure. Her son had been to visit Donna's family (they had sons the same age) and Jenn felt the urge to continue with her life's adventure, too. New York City was an unrealized dream whose time had come.

Donna had perhaps had the most difficult adjustment. Her oldest son had graduated from high school in June and was making plans to leave the nest. Her other son was preparing for fifth grade and certainly was no longer reliant on her for everything. Her husband continued to work nights and their time together, while precious to both of them, was awkward. And then there was the mountain thing.

Donna had never enjoyed living on the edge of the mountains. Born and raised there, in some ways they formed a prison wall she couldn't scale. Whenever people came to visit her in that part of the country, she felt obliged to take them to see the scenery visible from the park roads with the scenic turnouts. But the stress on her had been getting worse and now it was impossible for her to journey out of her corner of western Virginia by car. The routes through the hills and/or mountains created uncontrollable panic attacks which were accompanied by sheer terror. She felt trapped and could not get anyone in her family to understand. She had made excuses for the last few years why she could not go on vacation. She couldn't get time off from work. There wasn't enough money. She needed to help Scott get ready for his move to college. The reality was that she didn't want to experience the feelings she had when the 3 Amigas went up in the mountains that day. She didn't want to remember grabbing the wheel of the car while Scott was driving, nearly killing of them while while turning her greatest fear into reality - plunging through a guardrail and plummeting several hundred feet down the mountainside through heavy forrest.

No, Donna had been more or less content to stay in her town and live out her life through the worldwide contacts she had made on the Internet, especially through The Panic Channel's message board and her other friends. Donna lived vicariously through her other Amigas' stories and revelations about the things they were doing and seeing. She was plugged into the web and all the music of the world was available to her through the high speed connection she insisted on keeping whenever her husband brought up the idea of saving money by getting rid of unnecessary expenses. Her life seemed stuck to her and she would rather give up dessert than cut off her link to the outside (exciting) world.

So it was with great anxiety building inside that Donna read an email from England. Miffy had decided the recently announced The Panic Channel show in Madison Square Garden two months hence would be the perfect time for the Amigas to have a reunion.

"We can meet other Panic agents there, too." (Agents was how fans of the band referred to themselves) "Like Peebs and NYFan and others. I bet Angel will come, too, if we give her enough advanced warning. Plus who knows who else might show"

The next day the email still burned in Donna's mind's eye. Not that she wouldn't want to go; no, New York City was certainly a dream for her. If there was a TPC show involved so much the better. The problem was the damn mountains.

Miffy sensed there was something bothering Donna when they were chatting on the internet the day after sending the email suggesting NYC as a reunion site. Over the years of communicating through instant messages with Donna, Mffy had learned to read her moods through Donna's choice of words. That and the amount of contribution she made to chat rooms. If Donna wasn't happy, it wasn't hard to see. She wouldn't be rude or contrary. Instead she just retreated a bit while sorting things out. It was apparent to both the other Amigas while they chatted.


Miffy (9:25): OMG I am so excited about the show. I was checking air fares and I think I can do it this time!
Jenn (9:25) : Fuck. I won't have any money until I pay off getting my car fixed.
Jenn (9:25) : OH!
Jenn (9;25) : Did I tell you about the new sunglasses I want to get?
Jenn (9:25) : They fucking rock and they are only $250!
Jenn (9:25) : I know I won't lose them or break them if I pay that much for them!
Miffy (9:26) : Jenn, you could use that money for a plane ticket...
Jenn (9:26) : Eh. Those bitches probably won't let me off anyway. Besides, that is past tomorrow and I refuse to think or plan about that far ahead.
Miffy (9:26) : Don't you have any holiday time left?
Jenn (9:26) : I used it when I when camping last weekend. OMG. That was the BEST.TIME.EVER. BITCHES!
Miffy (9:26) : I remember you told us.
Donna (9:27) : I think I remember it, too.
Jenn (9:27) : Shit. That was two days ago. I can't remember who I told. It rocked.
Miffy (9:27) : Yeah, that was the weekend I saw the Reunion. Although without George or John, I'm not sure how they still call themselves The Beatles. Although George's son was incredible and looked just like his father. I think Paul was only doing it for the money, though. He got totally screwed by Heather in their divorce, even if it took her three years. He had to give up three of his castles!
Donna (9:28) : oh
Jenn (9:28) : Castles! That reminds me of a fight I got in last weekend! This other bitch was talking shit to my other bitch and I was like, no way! She was all looking at me, like, you wanna go? And I was about to get in her face when my friend Nancy hit her!
Miffy (9:28) : How does that remind you of castles?
Jenn (9:28) : pffft. Bite me.
Donna (9:29) : I can see it....

Anyway, it was discovered in their conversation that each had mad desire to go to the show in NYC. But it still came back to the mountains and Donna's reluctance to ride out of the valley she was in. Finally, a couple days later, during a three way phone conversation, a possible solution was discovered.

"Fucking Donna," Jenn ranted. "I can't believe you don't want to come with us."
"I want to"
"Jenn, get off her arse," Miffy interjected. "I don't think she can ride out. You saw how it was with us. We nearly died."
"Gahdamnit Donna! You should ride a fucking burro to get there if you have to!"
"A what?"
"A burro! A fucking donkey. Ass."
"See? I TOLD you it was arse," Miffy interjected. Following along when these three started talking or chatting on the net was like listening to a foreign language.
"Seriously, though. All my people rode burros everywhere. Until we learned to steal cars. I'll even ride with you some if it'll get you there." Jenn liked to make light of her Hispanic heritage.
"Really? You would? Whay about you, Miffy? Would you?"

Suddenly, against all their better judgement, a plan was hatched. Donna was to become the TPC Burro Lady, and she would catch shows between Virginia and The Big Apple during her four week ride. Miffy would meet Donna in Delaware and Jenn would catch up in Atlantic City (she said she had lots of casino experience).

With only a few months to make arrangements, things took on a frantic pace. Donna arranged with a local tack supply store to have the TPC logo, or sigil as they preferred to have it called, embroidered into the four corners of the black saddle blankets each of their burros would have. All of her tack was purchased black, with silver metal studs lining the bridal and reins. Her saddle featured a picture of the band AFI painted on the seat pad. She told the other Amigas that it was a dream of hers to sit on their face....

Sombreros and vests were arranged (to make Jenn feel at home), sized for their different heads. Donna's was all black, with a ring of silver stars studded around the top of the brim. Miffy's sombrero was also black, but she had some fringe stitched around her brim; the one inch pieces dangled below the wide part of the hat. These fringe pieces alternated between red and white. On top of the brim, visible only to the helicopters that would begin following them as they neared Manhattan, was David Beckham's national team jersey number - Miffy always felt the footballer had been forced to cede his spot on the roster too early and for political reasons rather than diminished skills on his part. Jenn's sombrero was adorned with a plethora of sequins around the crown of the hat. It was a weird combination of urban fashion, ethnic chic and girly fashion.

When Donna was arriving to her fourth show outside Dover, Delaware, there was the (by now) usual staring at her as she guided her burro to the very front row of the parking lot, right next to the handicapped slots.

"Giddy up, Dusty, you ass," she said as she dug her black boots into the animal's sides. She had to be careful when she did this, as she learned the first day. If she pointed her toes at the ground while kicking, she would scrape her toes. Her burro was very short (like Donna herself).

A group of young rocker-wannabes was standing off to the left, waiting for the gates to open when she arrived.

"Whhhooooaaaa. She DOES exist! It's the Goth Burro Lady!"
"I told you, dude. She was at the show last night, too."
"Bro..... I just thought you were high."

The stoners stared as Donna jingle jangled toward the special entrance her husband had begun arranging for her at all the shows. He was amazing and surprising her more and more with his supportive attitude about this trip.