He figured the wide screen perspective would set the scene for an epiphany that would finally make sense of this place and his place in it. So he gazed over the expanse, inhaling the suspense. But LA, always in character, refused to make sense. Yet, when the dawn came calling his thoughts congealed into a whole: “It’s morning in America. Sunrise in the fishbowl.”


…head fulla all kindsa crazy ideas ’bout life and oh dont know what jus’ always questionin’ everythang that didn’t have an answer…


…she mighta settled domestically but she never settled in her head…

something we used to do at berkeley rep…

It’s los angeles again
Just south of the 10
Messiah Baptist morning
Hope and Grief
Pain and Belief
Were the bridges of spirit forming.

The church hugged him and held him
And welcomed him home so tenderly
That walking took no effort
For he was floatin’ on their energy

Then the organ whispered
“Son, put your burden on my shelf
I am the trembling voice
That gives you no choice
But to listen to yourself.”

Then the whole congregation
Got to listening and waiting
For it’s pilgrim son to sing.

But his morning song was a eulogy
So there’d be no melody.


this shit is crazy…

go to amazon and see what our 1st record is selling for…it’s the version released on our own label, Aerial Flipout.

last sunday night…

…it was so hard to focus cuz i couldn’t see anybody…except the first row…i prefer a sweaty little club where i can see what kind of drink yer holding…and where your eyes are looking…and where it feels like we’re all in it together…in it…together…

that said, i had something close to fun…

i didn’t like the absurd backstage situation where NONE of my friends got backstage and i was too out of it too realize until it was too late…

more later…i guess i’m trying to get back into the blog thing…