THE BAND PLAYED ON

10/03/23

Oh well here it is: I missed you all. I missed this desk and this coffee and the sound of the water running from the lion’s-mouth-fountain while writing about the state of my affairs, bobsledding down memory-tundra-vehicle-in-the-ditch-lane, sewn spoiled oats, hardcore synth pop, chaos rains, muse chasing, mainstream/downstream, ready set go. I missed it all.

The world is different now. The roads look mostly the same. There is an air of anxiety floating around every sentence spoken. The toll collector smiles next to new machine installed. So many failed personality tests resulted in useless collected data. It’s October now. Rainer and I were talking yesterday about the greatest three month stretch there is… we decided it’s Oct/Nov/Dec.

Anyway - Thank You. Each and every one of you. I met so many of you out there who read these letters and that means the world to me… You are not alone.

How are you? Let me know below.

I had this penciled-in plan on how writing on the road would go, which as we both know, didn’t really happen. Even now that I’m home for the third day, I’m still spinning in vehicular mindslaughter, my face vibrating on the highways of last week… maybe sing well most nights… maybe just okay another… maybe meet a kind soul… maybe a vampire to slay. I’ve found it difficult to navigate anything outside of drives and shows and promoters and numbers. Joining you here has been from a place of love and those early moments of peace before police sirens and the litany of hailstorm that is sustaining your own dreams… There’s so much to say and so much to reflect on… I’m working full-time, full-time. Rant:

The first half of the Cold Cave tour was so giving and rewarding and confirming and deep in the heart of all doubt or denial or worth, through twisted temperatures and backwater characters, it was wonderful. And even more so because we are absolutely crushing live right now. 111 degrees in Dallas watching a parking attendant’s brain melt on the spot, tropical rains along the east coast, one of the least tropical places of all time. Albuquerque, San Antonio, Miami, Orlando, Atlanta, Boston, DC - the shows coming to my mind now.

Sipping coffee. I wonder if Massimo is alright. My ears have been damaged. I brought too many bags full of nothing and need to repack for the next part.

Notes from phone:

Looking for the North Star on South Beach.

Smoke a cigarette in the blinking hazard lights of a broken vehicle, in the mist of midwest night, I hope someone sees my light.

Wake up in some gutter
Missed call from your mother
Lord I love you anyhow
But she's my moon
And I'm her sun now

I’m in an Uber headed from our hotel in Sandusky to Cleveland to get a rental car at the airport there. It’s dark out still but there are pink ribbons slicing through the gray in the direction I’m headed East. Then I’ll drive the car back to Sandusky and on to Chicago for our show tonight. The Mercedes sprinter we have been traveling in seized and died yesterday on the Ohio turnpike around 5:30 pm. It was still light out and we landed on the shoulder with large trucks barreling by us, 6 to 8 feet away at 80 mph. On the highway we always move to the lane away from vehicles pulled over. No one is doing that for us. We called the van company and ended up living on the highway until 8:30. It was dark and raining. They told us to call an Uber. You can’t do that there. Eventually made it 5 miles to nearest hotel via two angel tow truck drivers. One had recently been released from a hospital after slipping on black ice and being ejected from driver side window in a truck crash, pinned and left for dead. He has a wife. i’m happy he survived. Anthony hit up Adam from Choir Boy who lives in Ohio now. He saved the day by borrowing another band called Pillars van to get us to the Chicago show on time. Van company met us at show with new van. All mentally exhausting and to be honest, felt very amateur to me, depressing - the sort of situation that was commonplace on a first tour but has me pondering poetry or the bus tours of Europe. We survived and pulled through due to the kindness of others, strangers and friends…

Food has no taste and then some and tongue buds rely on imagination the way you curve the truth in and out of favor, gaining and losing weight with each waking moment. Field after field. Cows walk acres to wrap their necks around the wire fence. I work harder on a day off. The give and the take have taken the gift and the band played on…

Photos just for you:

Hope to see the rest of you out here. More soon…