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The road is long, the road is rough. The road can beat a man down. The road can stretch on and on and on, and one day you look in the mirror and you look like Willie Nelson.
For me, the road is a never ending thrill/hell ride that stretches nearly 3/4 of a mile. From Trumbull Road to The Elevens.
A lesser man would hire a bus to get him to his destination of rock. Not this trooper. Nothing primes me for a gig better than the repetitve rhythmic sound of rubber sole against city pavement. They can stare. Oh, and they do. They DO! What?

Ok, I'm gonna have to stop here to say that I drove to this gig. But I had to--I had to bring my drums. Just go away and turn on the house lights on your way out.

Alright. A marathon show. Good to see the Caroline Know. Max hit it on the head when he said "this is the classic Baystate mid-90's sound". And suddenly I could imagine it all. I'm sure I saw thm back then. But, to paraphrase that stupid saying, "If you can remember the Baystate, you weren't really there". Thank god I kept journals back then.
Thane freaked when Nate did a Paleface song. Now I know of 3 people who like that guy. Beck being the 3rd.

Our set ran the gamut. Ken was calling em off. We seemed to do a lot of the fast ones, which was good. Omnivore had the spastic end, as opposed to last show where it was the tight end.
Uncomfortable and Soup brought me back to 2003. What else happened that year? Oh, right. War. And I went to Scandinavia. And started living alone.

The break in "Thinking of a Time" makes me wish I could practice the drums once in a while. I do Ok ,but I want Buddy Rich, bitch. (I only just said bitch because it rhymes with Rich). Damn.

I will end this entry having not really arrived at a