So, here is a Tank story from the early 90’s. A musician friend wanted to follow his dream in San Francisco, and his wife wanted to continue her life here [in Colorado]. On a Friday night, our two children, my wife, and myself got into the Volvo station wagon (its back setup as a bed for the children), and followed them to Rangely. We got to the Tank way after midnight. My friend played his tenor sax for his wife until the daylight was shining through the portal. They said goodbye, and we drove her back [to Boulder] as he continued to drive west. Our children were 10 and 12; I always thought, in a world of messy and painful divorces, it was such a blessing for them to witness a romantic separation.