July 31st, 2009.

The rain is hammering us, pinning us to Maryland. Passing a hearse and a funeral caravan, looming out of the storm, I guess that corpse is getting an appropriate day. I remember my father’s death was accompanied by beautiful April weather and I wasn’t sure if he’d have prefered it or if it was inappropriate.

Craig and his son Philip performing at the Coffee Amici open mic in Findlay, OH. Both have strong, powerful voices and when Philip performed solo later in the evening he proved himself to have an exquisite, emotive strength that radiated from the smooth curves of his face like… well.. I’m gonna stop right there. Little man crush. Shh. He was really good. That’s all.

We’ll be headed strangely north for this trip. Having to pick between highway and tinyway, we’ll be headed nearly an hour north above our destination in order to keep to an interstate and avoid a state road. It’s always frustrating when there’s some realization of “you can’t get there from here” given to you by multiple mapping apps. Looking at all these serpentine lines, wriggling across my screen, I don’t see any way of outsmarting the sheer distance of it all, wishing not for the first time for a teleporter, a helicopter, a way of folding the space as easily as folding the map and tunneling through the substance of it all backed by scifi physics and a newly installed Improbability Drive in my Saturn.

I’m not sure what other toys I’d install if I had my pick from books and movies. Some sort of robot servitor to set up the sound gear (the non-rebelling sort, please), of course – and a carbon fibre guitar or two – and a bag of holding would be nice.

Oh – and new tires. New tires would be good too.

I hate how old I look when I’m squinting into the sun. As we race Westward (I know, I know – we’re ALWAYS racing SOMEWHERE) I’m aware of my reflection staring out at me from my laptop, and of my tired eyes contorting into slits to fight the glare of the sudden sun. We’ve fought our way through rain and mists most of the way, only to have the sun spear down as it nears the horizon, pressing into our eyes as we head on in. Soon we’ll turn South and with that change will come a lot of occular relief, but until then I’ve got to face this gargoyle-caricature of me staring at me from beneath my words.

Coffee Amici was fantastic. What was “just an open mic” turned into something pretty amazing with some of the most exquisite male vocal talents I’ve ever heard. It was a great room with nice lights and a big sound system and a pleasant rug to stand upon. Warm audience and friendly owners – fantastic cookies, even.

This worthy member of the rabbit army was lying in wait for my orders in a glass cubicle across the street from Coffee Amici. I whispered orders through the barrier and told him to wait. He was doing an excellent job.

And of course, it doesn’t hurt that after driving 10 hours to get there we sold a LOT of CDs and got offered a hotel room and a gig. That’s the way it’s supposed to frakkin WORK!

Okay – 4 hours to Columbus, Indiana (such a confusing night… we came from Baltimore, MD and passed through Baltimore, OH on the way to Columbus, IN through Columbus, OH. We left everyone in our wake geographically confused.

And that’s the way THAT’S supposed to frakkin’ work!!!