Last Wednesday night I was sleeping in a hotel in Mt. Vernon IL. I dreamed that I was going in and out of different houses on one of the streets where I grew up (Pargoud Blvd, in Monroe LA). Everyone’s doors were open, and there was a big wind shaking the trees. I think I was looking for guitars. But I was already carrying my 3 most valuable guitars in my hands, all vintage Gibsons. And couldn’t possibly pick up anything else.
The new year is starting off well: over the weekend I was able to clear/reorganize two rooms in the house which had become impassible and otherwise dangerous. I actually did my year-end merch inventory at the end of the year, instead of the usual blindfolded dart-toss at a wild guess sometime in April, when the shadow of the almighty 1040 darkens the ground. Yesterday Evan and I delivered an overstuffed garbage can of glass to the recycling center, and after receiving complimentary yet unintelligible instructions from the gatekeeper there (except for one word: “Bordeaux”), recycled our Christmas tree at the East Park community center. We then sped off to Target where Evan purchased with two gift cards one new PS3 game in which one of the characters suffers from a minimal vocabulary, mainly consisting of George Carlin’s seven-words-you-can-never-say-on-TV. In addition to a surplus of firearms, ammo, and enemies. Strategy. Yeah. It’s a strategy game, Dad.
Strategy: I am plotting out the new year much too late. But, I say to self, at least I am doing it. I have what I think is a damn fine record in the can; I just need to find some capital with which to market it. The tour schedule is frighteningly blank, but this too is changing by the day. Thursday I head east, and wind my way through the mountains, into North Carolina, for a few shows over the weekend. Thanks for believing in my efforts, and I hope to see you at a show, or hear from you sometime soon.