Sleepy and abdominally disgruntled. Heather and I left late from Warren, RI due to a twin punch of bad weather and bad food. I took my time getting out of the bathroom this morning. And again a little later in the morning. And again a little later…
I feel that the ability of the human body’s tendency to need to use the bathroom JUST before the alarm clock goes off is obvious evidence of our mind’s natural prescience. Some would argue it’s coincidence. Others would argue that there’s nothing to this beyond the body’s subconscious ability to keep rather more accurate time than we’re usually given credit for (especially musicians). I’d buy that if we ever woke up at a regular time… but no… the body senses the probabilities of the future, and knows that the alarm clock is imminent. Knowing that consciousness is about to arrive ANYWHO, the mind bullies the body by triggering one phyical impulse or another. My hyphothesis as to WHY it does this lies in the fact that in the eternal battle between mind and body, the brain always seeks to make its ambulatory meat-carrier its bitch.
Anywho. We’re on I-95 heading south to Pennsylvania, not too far from home. The sun is setting in our eyes and we clearly need to wash our windshield. We just narrowly avoided an SUV who’s tire blew out in front of us, and now we just want to get back to Maryland, have dinner, watch cartoons, and SLEEP.
Sweet, sweet sleep.
Listening to the dulcet tones of Chris Capaldi from our show together at West Side Arts in Providence, RI. Friday night’s show was very low-energy, and I was disappointed to see no-one that we’d played to over the previous week. For all the effort we’d put into playing the local open mics, advertising the show, pushing it to people around town, we got no-one to come out, and that was pretty depressing. On the other hand, we had one woman, upon hearing we were in town, leave a batchelorette party leaving her credit card to cover her expenses. That’s pretty flattering. I guess small but devoted audiences are pretty good. It’s just that when the space is HUGE like at the Armory, well… it makes you guys look so very, very tiny.
We’ve progressed to Delaware, where they’re successively closing two lanes of traffic on the right, then the left… the minds of highway engineers are intentionally unfathomable: presumably to prevent terrorism against our nation’s great interstate system. Where we’d previously hoped to be in Owings Mills by 7pm, I think that time has been pushed back to 8 or even 9pm. Traffic is one of those mundane evils that makes me so very angry. Somehow I feel that if I’ve given up my commute and the accompanying paycheck, I should’ve been able to opt out of highway congestion as well.
