August 5th, 2005.

Damn I’m having a nice time. Though we woke up to cursing in Spanish and the rattle of trash trucks and 90 degrees and sweat, we got up, got out, and got ourselves over to Will’s in Warren, pulling up just in time to listen to the local 90’s at Noon program. Helmet and Alice in Chains later, we stepped into the cool, relic-laden dimness of Will’s store-front lair.

This has more to do with Tom. This is Tom's bass. Beautifully abused. God, I just want to sit and stare at his hands as he plays. Though the CDs rock my world, they sure don't capture his presence in person - and they sure don't show off what he can REALLY do.
This has more to do with Tom. This is Tom’s bass. Beautifully abused. God, I just want to sit and stare at his hands as he plays. Though the CDs rock my world, they sure don’t capture his presence in person – and they sure don’t show off what he can REALLY do.
Grafitti for Shane - over the urinal in the Skellig in Cambridge. Our gig there with Tom Bianchi was awesome, and I finally got a couple of his CDs. They're awesome. He's awesome. Tom's one of my new heroes. That's got nothing to do with the bathroom graffitti of course... but ... uh... yeah.
Grafitti for Shane – over the urinal in the Skellig in Cambridge. Our gig there with Tom Bianchi was awesome, and I finally got a couple of his CDs. They’re awesome. He’s awesome. Tom’s one of my new heroes. That’s got nothing to do with the bathroom graffitti of course… but … uh… yeah.

So, we’re playing this house concert tonight, and I’ve been very nervous about being very excited about it. I’ll be playing with a bunch of old, old friends – it will genuinely be an “i love you And I Miss You” reunion. I guess I was worried that I was the only one that had any affection for the nostalgia of such old songs – but I’m a creature of nostalgia – I Love the failing notes of my old voice, and though I’m embarrased by it in present company, there’s a lot of pleasure and pride hidden away in those old 4-track recordings… and a lot of damned good songs.

In any case, a lot of that was running through my head as we sat in the car with “Bones” roaring through the speakers.

The first night in Providence, we stayed with my friend from MICA - Lucky. Ok... she doesn't go by Lucky any more. Jenine. Sigh. Incredible artwork she does....
The first night in Providence, we stayed with my friend from MICA – Lucky. Ok… she doesn’t go by Lucky any more. Jenine. Sigh. Incredible artwork she does….
Some of Lucky's creations, piling high and staring blankly.
Some of Lucky’s creations, piling high and staring blankly.

Now I’m sitting in the kitchen, listening to Will and Carin running through one of Will’s Tin Tin songs – the words slowly come back to me, and I remember so much time in the old MICA coffeehouse, and the pool tables, and the noise of the gatehouse as I was first discovering my guitar and my voice and the idea of twining myself together with another musically.

We even dug up the Playground and tried it out. Dusted it off, toyed with it. Listened to old recordings from college. It’s too hot to get properly excited, but I’m full of vibrations.

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