I woke up, put in that last load of laundry, finished some last
minute errands, and met with some friends, as is the custom. I went and finished recording
a song I was commissioned by Scott to write for his wife Jen. It was to be a Christmas
present for Jen. Though I am sure she has had this notion for sometime. The final product,
I assume though, is still a mystery. I am excited to play this song live with Scott at the
release show, whenever that may be. I then returned to my current residence to find my
laundry was dry. So I packed my bags, had breakfast, two cups of coffee accompanied by the
subsequent cigarettes. I fitted my suit and guitar case on the bike and headed out on a few
pre-adventures. I got to see Amanda, one of my lovely roommates on the way. By the luck
of lady fortune we crossed paths. She on her way home and me on mine, though it be
circuitous. With several embraces and pecks on the cheeks she bid me a fine farwell, and I
to her, since she was headed back to Pennsylvania for the high holy days. Then it was off
to Bob's to drop off the bicycle he had lent to me for this last week. I have intentions to
purchase said bike but have neither the funds nor the time to finalize the deal. I just
might upon my return. There is a tender yearning in my heart to slowly caste out the
demons of oil and gas. Afterward I headed back to 55th and hoyt to say hello and goodbye
all at once to the boys. As usual Stephen was hammerin' away on some very dominant chords.
Kevin tossin in some very tasteful licks, and Jakob bangin' oh so sweetly on his
snare-tom-bass with the splish splash of his hi-hat-ride. Wang-dang and Kevin rolls into a
really hot riff raffin with Stephen clappin down on the ivories. The lyrics though drowned
out by the ordered chaos were extolled with such gusto to render ones ear to perk and
attempt the impossible. I said my peice grabbed a few last things, books, sleeves, and
blank CD's, which are now my only currency. I was offfered a spoonful of medicine and
washed it down quickly with a spot of wild turkey. It was but a short stroll to the train
line just north of 60th and glisan. There was no rush at all so I stopped at a convenience
store to procure a pack of stoggies and some snacks for the 15 hours of the first leg. I
arrived at Union Station in plenty of time to have another cupful of joe and handful of
smoke. The Photographer was impeccable with their time. We lounged and chatted for quite
sometime catching up since our last adventure which almost brought us into the custody of
the Portland Police. We lined up, got my boarding pass and then lined up again awaiting
depature. The Photographer holding my pillow, and I carrying all I dare to need. They
agreed to be my fluffer, though I doubt the inuendo gathered much steam. Though it did get
a laugh and a squeeze of the pillow. There were a few more photos taken on my way through
gate 6B. The crowd behind me wondering, no doubt, what sort of strange ax-murder they were
about to board with. A quick embrace along with the words, "In bocca al lupo". I settled
into car 13 and took note of the days events, so far.
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