Happy Summer, folks,
I don’t know about you, but June crept up on me like a carjacker in the night. Spring got taken while I wasn’t paying attention, but we’ve got the summer ahead in both hands to look forward to, what with vacation time (right?), impeachment proceedings (oops) . . . and all. Per usual like most of you I’m metaphorically spinning a hundred plates in the air while running in place, feeling, as ever, that I’m getting nothing done. But truth is: I am. There’s just a lot to do. Life. I’m not sure this is how you best live it, but it’s here, and there are twenty items on my list for today, including writing to you (which is truly a bright spot among the various chores around the estate.) And I feel luckier every day, just to be able to get up and get on with it.
Hey Because It’s Tomorrow Night Department: If you find yourself in the Nashville area this Saturday night, come on out to the Family Wash. I’ll be playing in trio formation with Ron Eoff on bass and Jon Radford on drums. Really excited about this one–hope you can make it!
Getting to Know You Department/Leaving the Garage & the Paris Agreement: So I go to the doctor yesterday for an overdue check-up–the urologist, if you must know (you’re right: you didn’t ask)–and it’s healthcare chaos in there . . . I know: welcome to the new world. I had a bit of a scare about a year ago, but all turned out to be fine. I’m the youngest guy in the packed waiting room–by twenty years, it seems. Which should make me feel younger but actually has the opposite effect. I feel like I’m at a funeral home, though without the gaudy flowers and impenetrably somber vibe. Something icky too, about how the new graphic “The Continence Clinic” (that particular issue not mine) is written/printed out on the glass entrance door in such a whimsical cursive font . . . like gee whiz this is fun!, like it ain’t no big deal. Or something. Jeez, you wonder sometimes what’s going on inside the minds of the graphic designer and/or management team putting this stuff together. Anyway, I submit my new insurance card to the receptionist; she tells me she doesn’t think the doctor will see me because the hospital in which the clinic is located is no longer taking my type of policy . . . and the doctor’s just gone into an exam room, so she’ll check with him when he comes out and let me know. Fifteen minutes later: a nurse tells receptionist that the doctor will see me, because there’ll likely be no serious lab work done today (Huh? but . . . yippee). $40 co-pay and I’m in. Once the “visit” goes down, the professional’s view is that all is basically well, for now. I like my doctor, but it bothered me a little that his socks didn’t match his shirt. Though I liked the socks. That’s the kind of cray-cray stuff I think about when in a place like this, when I am but “Mr. Gordon”, a name on a chart, sitting on a green paper sheet on the end of the exam table, working through a strange fusion of apprehension and boredom there in Room #6, while waiting for What’s Next. I retrace my steps through the elevator-and-garage maze back to the van, and turn on the radio just in time to hear You-Know-Who read (Mr. Bannon’s) words in the Rose Garden, as I drive back out into the mid-afternoon sunlight. And I want to weep for my country, at the sheer stupidity and short-sighted arrogance inherent in the speech, that too many of us have apparently grown comfortable with, in our contemporary American sloth and slumber. “Believe me.” Ugh. Anyway, moving on to brighter things–
Summer: It’s summer–my tour schedule is woefully vacant. Am I complaining? Yes, but not exactly. I’ve got three shows in Iowa coming up next week:
Thursday, 6/8, The Octopus, Cedar Falls (quartet show)
Friday, 6/9, June Moon at The Brenton Arboretum, Dallas Center (quartet show)
Saturday, 6/10, Vaudeville Mews, Des Moines (KG and Joe V. McMahan duo)
Since I’m working on a new record it’s a good time to have some time off the road–though I sure wish I was getting the kind of exposure that many acts get during this, prime festival season. Also, I’ve taken in quite a lot of new inventory at the gallery, and will be completely revamping that site (http://www.gordongallery.net) over the course of the summer.
The family and I spent the Memorial Day weekend down in Mississippi, visiting my mom and sister. Had a great time–ate like pigs, drank like fish, as one will when in communion with blood relatives, and made it to one of my favorite bookstores anywhere, Lemuria, in Jackson. I bought a signed copy of Tim Gautreaux‘s latest, “Signals: New and Selected Stories”, and I’ve really been enjoying digging in to that. It’s been added to the stack of other books I carry around with me. While we were there, I noticed that I’m listed in the bibliography of Dr. William Ferris‘s latest book, “The South in Color: A Visual Journal“; my song “Pecolia’s Star”, about Mississippi quilter Pecolia Warner (whom I first read about in an earlier book by Dr. Ferris), is listed. A nice surprise.
The new recording project: We continue to chip away at it; here are titles of just some of the tracks we’re in the process of finishing:
Saint on a Chain
Fire at the End of the World
Drunkest Man in Town
Right on Time
Tempted and Tried
No idea yet on release date, but the best bet is likely first quarter of next year; if the timing works out right, those participating in the pre-sale/sponsorship campaign would get theirs before the holidays. That’s a big “if”–I’ll keep you posted on our progress. And I’ll be announcing details re: the campaign very soon.
Mailing list subscribers: look for a special sale offer in the email version of this post–coming a little later today.
All the Best,