Often our band weekends together start with a little conversation that goes something like this:

Megan: “What are we working on this weekend?”
Steve: “Oh. Well, you know, I thought we could maybe…”
Megan: “Look, I need you to know that I have been sick for two weeks, am utterly sleep-deprived, dealt with crazy people at work until 20 minutes ago, don’t have any food in the house, really want to take shower, and can only imagine what kind of mood Trevor might be channeling.”
Steve: “Oh. Thanks for telling me.”
Megan: “So, I’ll probably cry.”
Steve: “Right.”

And my sole purpose for posting this, dear reader, is to warn you that we will soon be embarking on a Fashion Discussion on this here blog. Fashion. Good Night, States. Clothing. Image. Discussion. Rock’n'roll. Oh My.

It’s okay if that makes you want to cry, but for heaven’s sake, at least look at some beautifully dressed people while you are having your little sniffle. The Sartorialist is a favorite blogger of mine.

I’ll return to this topic soon. Fashionably later.

to be fair, we’ve eaten fairly well today. my wife packed joe and i excellent homemade breakfast sandwiches and a thermos of strong coffee this morning. that carried us through the 1 o’clock show pretty easily this morning, but we were ready to eat by the time the five of us (with tim tobitsch, band friend and megan business partner, as a stand-in for trevor, who had to return to work: they have similar hair) drove off to get some lunch at tessaro’s in lawrenceville.

other highlights include fantastic guitar tone from both myself (new speakers, KT77s) and joe (new speaker, mojo), seeing part of meeting of important people’s set, and some good laughs at tim’s idea for a “tutoring & repo” business (your scores improve or you lose your house!).

on the whole, though, this is the part of the plot where The Real Meaning of the story’s events are really called into question. the moral is unclear. after all, joe and i can have excellent guitar tone, eat well, and fine each other $129 at home and without 13+ hours of driving.

dear reader, even for those of us who believe in more than coping, some days feel like a page of hemingway.

whence, dear reader, the hero will shortly enter the scene with flourish, very possibly from a conveniently placed rope.

or something like that. in our case, the real version would now include a very polite state trooper. although we are still on track to wow the passersby at WPTS Day, the speed of our progress and the height of our spirits are both somewhat reduced. this has now become quite an expensive trip.

ah, troopers. how faithfully you discharge a duty of such immorality. if only you could be persuaded of that which we, the frequent travellers of pennsylvania interstates, know in our deepest parts: your law is no law at all. it is bare graft, collected with undisguised coercion, only designated a “tax” by the ultimate destination of the lucre squeezed from the common man.

if only i wrote protest songs.

dear reader,

that’s right; it’s me. i’ve missed you all. i decided some weeks ago to return to blogging here with a vengeance, but now it’s happening and i couldn’t be happier.

actually, i could be somewhat happier. the occasion of my first post in over two months is not, truly, something about which i’m particularly excited. owing to some not entirely unforeseen but certainly uncontrollable externals, joe and i will be departing shortly from nj to play a c. lunchtime show in pgh, and returning shortly thereafter to nj. (go ahead, check the time. i’ll be back here by 9 tonight.)

so… though i am sadly without brilliance or insight at this hour, you can look forward to blogs and tweets throughout the day that will no doubt keep you informed of our progress in an entertaining way.

ps. did you like “in the impossible tension?”