Twenty-six states; four provinces; one piano; thirty feet of a chool bus named Pearl: this is the simple, oft-awkward story of a most extraordinary escape from the mundane. Here, three old friends telegraph a bleak, prescribed economic present into a reckless, hand-built future; as if by kismet, a dream in yellow-and-black rolls into the picture. Soon, the friends find themselves soot-smeared on a Californian ranch, bolting a junkyard piano to the bus' inner wall, discussing hopes and fears with limited concern for what the future might portend. Steered by a revolving pack of as many as seven, each reeking badly of whiskey and sweat, Pearl glides her way across North America, inspiring concerts, love affairs, and icy pools of rooftop vomit, coasting triumphantly into Los Angeles on one smoggy September afternoon. Behold a group of middle-class vagrants. Behold a band of dreamers.