Saturday, February 10, 2007

...and i dont even know how I got off the track.

For the last few days we’ve been getting all our shit together for tour again. Joey, Bryce, and I set up in a practice space for a few hours and played all our songs, talked about how we spent our time away from the van, from the stage.

Goddamn it feels good to play with a band again.

We're working on a cover song that may get added to the set.

more to come..

Before I left for practice the other night, I spoke with an old friend of my father who spent his entire adult life sailing on cargo ships and oil tankers. Over the phone he has the grit in his voice of a man that has walked and drank and fought amongst the cranes and shipyards in every bustling seaport in the world, has seen desperate men and women do the most desperate of things, has felt shit that most of us are not meant to experience. He summed up life in a way that hit home for me - and he always does, he has always had the air of a working class philosopher. He would sail through Oakland (which is actually a pretty big port city) and visit my family. Standing nearly seven feet tall with an alcoholic cologne, His presence would fill our house: always rolling his own cigarettes and smoking on the back porch, always bringing my brother and I strange gifts from across the world, telling us stories in a language we were barely old enough to hear, relating his thoughts on life - never talking down to us.

He says to me that happiness is the most important thing, that maybe we never get to experience pure bliss but living is just dealing with the shit that life throws at you - this thing and the next and the next and the next. If that’s your existence, you gotta be doing what makes you happy above all.

I hung up the phone and went to practice.