Such a good day. Started at 5am, which I wasn’t really expecting, but I can survive that. Left California in mixed spirits, but slowly my optimism about the world as a whole seeped in. If I can get my head out of caring so much about what the future brings so much that I’m screwing up the present, I’ll be in a much much much better place.
You know, sometimes when I screw up lyrics and chords and can’t seem to get my act together on stage, I’m often afraid that I’ve lost whatever it is that I had – but tonight at the Cup I undid my fears and left in shreds around my ankles… er… this being a metaphor that I could probably really sink my teeth into but I’m being distracted by Hellboy.
We played phenomenally tonight. If I could just maintain that – that mood that style that fire – Peter said it best the other night – we’re a cult band in desparate need of a cult. Tonight we could’ve converted Catholics.
Something to mar the night, though – because something always does. My grandfather’s house was broken into while we were in Mexico. His home is a haven of collectable plates and dolls and valuables that are disguised, and many of them are shattered and thrown out the window now as a frenzied search apparently deemed them worthless. DVD players and stereos are missing, along with less conventional merchandise like chainsaws and a power washer.
My grandfather doesn’t even seem to be sure what has happened, just that things aren’t quite as he remembers them.
