Those who are forgiven much love much

    The above clip is my friend Danny Cosby. Danny is very much in the category of those who have been fogiven much. I would like to stop for a moment and say that he has not been forgiven one sin more than I have, although our sins may have been very very different. Danny was in prison, facing 10 years of hard time, when in the midst of his affliction, the Lord heard his cry for help and lifted him out of the miry clay. I consider Danny a brother, with a heart as sweet as honey. He also sings like the Devil is chasing him, and I am in awe of his talent.
I hope you enjoy this short clip of my brother Danny.

ABC gum anyone?

   












      According to Wikipedia: "the Market Theater Gum Wall is a brick alleyway wall now covered in used chewing gum. Parts of the wall are covered several inches thick, 15 feet high for 50 feet"
I can vouch for this! 
     On a recent trip to Seattle, Abi and I found the "Gum Wall". It's not far off the beaten path around the Pike Place Market In downtown Seattle. From just a few feet away, it is beautiful, with colorful, mosaic areas of pictures made with blobs of used gum. In some places it resembles the eyechart test for color-blindness, with thinly disguised names and sayings squished into place by hands that fear no germ, neither foreign or domestic.
Up close, it is quite another experience. Although still very colorful, it is gross, yet it almost draws one in, much like the tractor beam of vintage Star Trek episodes. You can scarcely look away, Only the quiet, persistent "vibe-out" of other would-be gum admirers is enough to move you along, till you are just outside the power of this altar to a chicled entity. Good times, good times indeed. 


   

Wanna See a Cannon Fire? Battle of Collierville

 My daughter Abi, is a blossoming photographer. I have been taking pictures since I was a kid, and over the last couple of years have branched off into serious video and documentary filming.In an effort to help Abi hone her already accomplished skills, we try to get out and shoot various events around the city. We actually just got back from Seattle, where we spent a few days shooting some very cool stuff all over the downtown area. We saw a re-enactment of the Battle of Collierville today. It was out at Schilling farms. It was cool to see those guys dress up in the field clothes of those Civil war times and watch them fire the muskets and cannons.
Spoiler alert: The confederate lost the battle.








   

Sometimes 49 is NOT the new 39!

     

     Contrary to popular belief, 40, nor any derivative of it, is not the new 30.
And in my case specifically, 49 is NOT the new 39!
I discovered this wonderful truth about 2 weeks ago, while helping my daughter Abi, work on her Lacrosse skills. We were out at her usual field of play,  trying to get "really real" with the conditioning, in preparation for the coming season. In the 14 years of Abi's existence, I've always prided myself on being completely supportive and involved in her activities, and Lacrosse was no exception. Unfortunately, I'm 14 years older than I was when she entered this world, and not quite the spring chicken I was then. In the midst of returning a ball to her, I attempted to run and throw at the same time, tripped on the Astro-Turf (Do they still call it Astro-Turf?) and fell, jamming my elbow up into the top right side of my ribcage, tearing the cartilage in that area.
Oh well, Just torn cartilage, I thought I'd broken 2 ribs AND my arm, so a little torn cartilage should be nothing. Wrong. I was out of work for a week, and was so jacked up on pain meds I can barely remember the week. Nice, nice. 
As soon as I recover from this, I'm on a comeback tour.
Oh, it's gonna happen,
Or I'll die tryin'.
Over and out.

How Time flies...

I can't believe how long it's been since I last blogged here. I think it's probably because I've been putting my thoughts into songs for the last couple of years, rather than online here, and I've kinda let my non-rhyme-ing thoughts escape me, instead of stopping here to let them breathe. A few things have happened since I last blogged. Probably the biggest thing is that my grandmother, "Ma-Ma" passed away in November. She was a wonderful grandmother and prayed for me everyday of my life. I miss her quite a bit these days. I did about 150 years, year before last, then took most of last year off musically. I'm trying to get back in the saddle with it, but haven't been nearly as motivated as I need to be to jump into the local show scene here in memphis. I miss the guys I spent so much of that year with, but they are around, and will be for some time. I will find them soon, and we'll pick up where we left off.  I have been so inspired by my sister Amber's blog.  She is a brilliant humorist, and should really be writing a column somewhere. I'm hoping to get back in the blogging groove and try to be more consistent, but I can't commit to that!

Peace.

Waxing philosophical

I just got in from sitting in a smoky bar for about 3 hours, waiting for my turn to play at the open mic around the corner from the University of Memphis. And before that, I sat around a coffee bar for a couple of hours across the street from the other smoky bar, enduring a seemingly endless run of local artists butcher cover tunes from the 70's, while I waited to share my nuggets of original music with the masses. Recently, I've been trying to really focus in on why I do what I do musically. I was not born a musician, and although all of my family sing in some form or fashion, since as far back as I can remember, I started late, in my late 20's, and have continued to build on that for the last few years. I think the most important thing for me to remember in my music, is to love people, and make sure they know that God loves them, using words only when necessary.

Avoidance behavior

Weird. Just a blink of any eye ago, but what really turns out to be a little over 3 years now. I was sitting in this same spot on my couch, sitting in a darkened room, waiting for the phone to ring. Waiting for a reason to leave my house. Waiting for affirmation that I had something to offer this life. I had pretty much let my local friends wander off, and had kept in touch with but scant few of my friends out of town, and if it weren't for the internet, would have let them disappear altogether. I had so wrapped myself up inside another person that I had forgotten me. It is amazing to me now, just a short time later, that life could be so full of...LIFE. My CD has been out since January, and I've sold a few. It's tough to promote a project on your own, but I'm learning some things and trying to figure out the shortcuts to promotion and marketing. But more importantly, I'm living. My schedule is full these days. My job of course, keeps me busy full-time, but on any given night of the week now, I may be sitting at home with my guitar, working on new songs, or working on perfecting the ones I already do in my shows. I may be doing a show, or going to see some of the great new friends I've made in the memphis music scene play a local club. Or hanging out at the Starbucks that has me do a monthly show there now. Or exploring a new local coffee shop, drumming up a chance to do a show there, and perhaps help drum up some business for the struggling new owners. There the singles group I work with, there's church on sunday, there's the men's group I have breakfast with on fridays. there's my best pal Jamie's band I try to see whenever possible. There's phone calls, text messages, voicemails, emails, snail mails. So many different things that communicate to me that I am valuable, and valued, and loved, and needed, and the best part, wanted. Speaking of wanted, there's my baby doll, Abi. She's the part of it all, we talk on the phone every day that we're not together, and I live for the days I have her. It's tough to put the juggernaut that my life has become on hold for her, but we do it, and that's when life is the sweetest. She's now a part of my music when I play out, by writing out the list of songs I'm gonna play, making suggestions, asking how she can help with cords or smaller pieces of equipment, just wanting to be with her daddy. I've got to do my weekly paperwork now, which is the bane of my existence, but I have been so busy with life lately that I haven't had a chance to blog, and I miss that. Stay tuned for more...

Blog is, as blog does!

I have no real theme here today, uh, tonight. I just haven't blogged in awhile, and thought it was time to share. Nothing too intimate, I'm not feeling the need to purge, but I would like to mention how irritating it was to go down to the fitness room at the hotel I am staying in tonight, only to find, (for the second night in a row!) a skinny woman on the treadmill. Now, I understand, skinny people need love too, but they DON'T need a treadmill. Not when there's a guy with a few pounds to knock off standing in line, waiting for it. I don't like lines, not at all. I don't like them in a box, I don't like them with crackers and lox, I don't like them in a tree, I really don't like them when I have to p... nevermind, that was right on the cusp of being an "overshare". Suffice it to say, I don't like lines. I have bored myself, I shall now promptly go and rehearse some songs for an upcoming show, lest I lose another 10 minutes of my life I can never get back.

This chapter is finished.

As I sit here typing, I have my newly arrived CD sitting right in front of me, and although it came in friday, I have not been able to look at it without a strange surrealism fogging my brain. It took 2 full years to complete this project, but it is a strongly autobiographical representation of the last 10 years of my life, the most painful, devastating 10 years I have ever lived through. Despite the trials, the last 3 years have been the very best of life. I have maintained a few long-term relationships, like my friend Shawn, who I've known since 83'. She is my favorite blogger, a wonderful artist, and one of the most creative, and colorful people I've ever known. I've Re-kindled some other long-term relationships, for example, my friend Steve Cubine, a real, live movie producer in California, who has been my best childhood friend since around the 2nd grade. I've made some incredible new friends, like Steve and Angela, then There's Jon Joaquin, my journalist friend in the phillipines, and dozens of great friends I've met being active in my church over the last 9 years. Life began for me at 40, I made some huge, painful decisions, that at the time were difficult, but looking back now, I cannot help but marvel at God's mercy in bringing me to such a wonderful place in my life. Least favorite parts of the last ten years? My divorce, broken relationships, and recording my CD. Some of the best parts of the last ten years? Getting divorced, unhealthy relationships that didn't last, and finishing my CD. God's timing is always impeccable. And although no trial seems pleasant at the time, it cultiivates in us a harvest of righteousness. If you get a chance to check out my websites: DaveNicar.com, or Myspace.com/davenicarband, write to me and let me know what you think about my music. I hope those of us that are hurting can find some healing inside the words or music. It was very emotional for me to write and record, so I hope you all enjoyt the CD. Thanks for the support this year, Dave Nicar

2 years and counting!

Well, it's pretty much finished. My CD project, my obsession, for the last 2 years has been completed, and has gone to the duplicators. It was originally supposed to take 6 months, but due to reasons I'm too irritated to write about here, it took much longer. But it is now finished, and I couldn't be prouder. It is extremely auto-biographical, and was a very emotional project to do. You can check out audio clips, and a video of a live performance I did of one of the songs at a show here last month. the site addresses are: myspace.com/davenicarband, or davenicar.com

Mom always said, "always wear clean underwear".

Years ago, just a month or so before my daughter was born, my wife (then) was very pregnant, and had been craving dairy products like milk prohibition had just been enacted by congress. I, being the attentive, and gracious husband (then) ran out the door, in a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt, hopped in to my car, and up the street to the corner convenience store to fetch the aforementioned dairy treasures. "Strange." I noted, "there's never been a line at this convenience store before. And there was. 3-4 people lined up to purchase their smokes, their oreos, their lottery tickets, and me. So as I stood there with a gallon of milk, a pint of ice cream, and various other comfort foods, I happen to glance down at my shorts to remember that which pocket I had put my wallet in, when to my horror, I realized that I had walked out of my house in a pair of gray boxer shorts, not the publicly-accepted short pants any normal human would have worn. Suddenly these words flashed across the marquee in my mind, yea, even my soul. "MOTHER OF GOD" I thought, "I've walked out of the house in my boxers." "Stay cool Dave, stay cool. None of these 42,000 people here know that you're in your underwear." Fortunately, I did have my wallet in my hand with my cell phone and keys, stayed the course, bought the food, and went home. I double check now, cause sometimes, things just happen. I'm just sayin'. Peace. Dave

Drive like no one's watching, dance like Paula Abdul is.

I'm sitting in the parking lot of a McDonalds in Franklin Tenn, just south of Nashville. I've driven 26 miles, one way, to come here. No, not for a delicious order of golden brown fries, no, not for a double cheese, my current burger of choice. I'm here to use the internet access they offer. A "Hot spot" it's called. My work computer has to be linked up to our home office every night, before 11pm central time, or the world blows up or something goofy like that. So no problem, I'm at a Hampton inn, a great place to stay, and within my budget, the only problem is, over the last 2 months, I've been unable to link my computer to the mother ship. So I drove across the street to Holiday inn, no wireless access. Comfort Inn, password needed, Biff's no-tell motel, nope. So I'm driving the almost 30 miles to the closest town to link up this computer at Ronald McDonald's Place. Sidebar: do you think Ronald McDonald the clown is related to Michael McDonald the singer? Anyway it's pretty sad when you can go to a freakin' Macky-Dees and get a better internet hookup than you can at the 80 bux a nite hotel.Maybe I'll drive through, and reward myself for being such a faithful employee. I shouldn't, I'm on a diet, kind of an atkin's-type thing, I've lost 16 pounds, but gained back 5. I'll lose it again, and more. But in the meantime, I should have a burger, no bun, no mayo. Yes, no, yes, no, yes...no. well, okay. My computer has completed it's upload, I can drive 30 miles back to my awesome hotel, that doesn't allow me to link up my computer. And I'll have to unwind a little now, which means I'm up another couple of hours. Whatever, I just heard the bell ring, and the frycook dude, just announced, "Fries are up!" I'm outta here. Nitey nite.

Pebbles-1998

Every day, I walked down to the ocean, to wait for my love to come. But my love never visited. And though I came every day of my life to this same spot, I did not see my love coming for me. So every day, as I waited, I threw a few pebbles into the water, knowing that in time, I would throw in enough pebbles to take me to my love, and yet afraid that I'd never find her. Every day took me a little further, and a little further away from shore. And I became a little more, and a little more lonely, and a little more desperate, knowing by now, that I'd never see my love. For by now, I had traveled too far to return, and yet, so weary, I hadn't the strength to continue. So I lay down to die, broken in spirit, that my love would not be there to share my last breath. Then, just as I felt myself starting to drift away, I heard a sound. It was the sound of someone throwing pebbles into the ocean, a few at a time, venturing out a little more, and a little more each day, coming to find her love. Dave Nicar-1998

There is no pain so deep...

He was a tragic figure, and although he carried himself with dignity and fullness of character, he walked as though heavily burdened. The burden that only comes from a broken heart and a lost love. He said his name was Shelly, but he never told me if that was his whole name or short for something. I met him at the Pike's Place Market, in Seattle, Washington, back in 1983. I was supposed to be meeting my friend, Ted Berrett, and his wife, Lily, but they called at the last minute and had to cancel. Rather than leaving, I decided to stay, as I never tire of the Market and it's atmosphere. For some reason, it always makes me feel more alive. But that day was different. I had spoken with Shelly before, as he strolled by the the vendors and wandered in and out of the produce and flower carts, gazing toward the throngs of people, as though searching for someone in particular. When I asked him if he was waiting for someone, he never turned from his search, but began to sing the chorus of a song to himself, or rather to the one he searched for, but couldn't find. "For my love is on her way, and I know she won't be long, My love is on her way, to the place her heart belongs." And in that moment, it dawned on me what was happening, and for once, my heart seemed to lose that wonderful, full feeling I always find when I visit there. One of the old-timers there told me Shelly had been an artist, a wonderful, colorful artist that used to set up his easel there and paint away the hours, as tourists and natives alike, stopped to admire the ease with which his colors seemed to leap onto the canvas, as he could scarcely keep up with the back to back patrons that would sit in the subject's seat almost as quickly as the previous one got up. One day, apparently, the love of his life sat down and for what seemed like a year, time stopped for them. Even the Market took on a hush as the two souls rushed to meet each other, and make up for the years they had lived without knowing each other. Shelly closed early that day, and the two of them walked away arm in arm, to begin what appeared to be a story book love affair. One day, after several months of their romance seeming to be without end or ebb, Shelly got to his place at the market to set up his paints, but glancing around at the crowd every few seconds to find his love's face, as she sought to sneak up on him, but never could. Instead, he found a note on his easel, which simply said, "I love you, but I can't stay. I know you're disappointed with me, but I have to go." And she was never heard from again. Shelly never painted again, but came to the market every day to sing his little song and search the crowds for her, but she was never to return. And as the vendors began to close up shop for the day. They quietly patted Shelly on the arm or back, as he walked past their carts and stands, headed home to a house that no longer held any color for him. "There is no pain so deep, nor an emptiness so vast, nor a tear more deserved, than that which comes from a broken heart."-Dave Nicar, 1983.

First Love, you only have one!

I got an email from my High School sweetheart today. I'd been trying to track her down for a couple of years, but to no avail. She finally joined Classmates.com, and I was able to send her an email. She responded that she is doing well, married for 9 years, with 3 children, and happy. I don't know why, but I worried about her for many years. She'd had a rough first marriage, and had a few ups and downs in the few years I kept up with her after that. So to find out that she is doing well was like finishing the last chapter of a mystery where the ending resolves and the main characters all end up where they should be. It changed my whole image of where I thought she'd be: homeless, and broken, because things between us hadn't worked out, and she'd made a really tragic life choice that went horribly wrong. She was my first love, and I was absolutely smitten with her. In high school, I was a bit of an ugly duckling, and she, going to another high school, was very popular, and beautiful. I don't know why she dated me in the first place, but she did, for our senior year. We lived 50 miles apart, and being that there was no internet or cell phones back then, I hand wrote her a letter at least every other day, sometimes 4 in a week! She didn't respond quite so often, but I didn't care, I belonged to someone wonderful and pretty and sweet and talented. She was a great artist, and ended up as a graphic artist later after college. I remember that I was listening to "IF" on the Bread's greatest hits 8 track tape, (shut-up, I know!)and writing her my first letter, and coincidentally, she was listening to that same song as she read my first letter, which mentioned that I was listening to that song as I wrote! That was the bond that brought us together immediately. It was a typical first love, and then the typical, "she went to a college out of town, and met someone else the first month" type ending. But despite my hurt, I've held a sweet spot in my heart for her anyway. Unfortunately, that would not be the only time I've encountered that type of ending, but life is what it is, and you move on, hurt for awhile, then thankful when you look back and realize the bigger pain you avoided by tasting the small one now. I'm glad she's doing well, and glad I am too. Dave Nicar

davenicar.com

This is the proposed style for my new website. I have one online right now, but I don't care for it much. It's okay, but not as dramatic as this one. I love drive-ins, we have one here in Memphis. My daughter and I go to it about once or twice a month in the summer, and a little less in the off-season. It's the exact same drive-in my parents took us to when we were my daughter's age, which is 8 1/2. I saw the Beatle's "Help" there, as well as "Song Of The South", which was great. I don't remember any others there, but I remember it as one of my best favorite childhood memories. Abi and I load up on junk food, and usually buy a lottery ticket at the convenience store across the street from the entrance, as the powerball drawing is held while we are in the movie, and it gives us something to look forward to when we get home, and want to dream about winning a kabillion dollars and not having to work or go to regular school. We pretend that I could just homeschool her, and not have to go to work, and that she would never have to leave. Her mom will be dropping her off at our house in the morning at 6:15am, or her way to work. We will spend a good part of the morning negotiating how we will spend the day. I, will be lobbying for a day outside the house, while she will be horse-trading for a day indoors. We went to a teapot exhibit at the museum just about 10 minutes from our house. There were hundreds of rare and unusual teapots on display, and Abi got busted by the rude security guard for leaning too closely on the EDGE of the display table. Not even the actual display area, just the edge of the table mind you. So we showed them. I pretended to look at a teapot right by the door next to guard, blocking her view, while Abi, in a deft display of rebellion against the "man", reached over and touched and actual teapot! Oh yes, bare-fingered! skin oils, dead skin cells and all. And amazingly enough, the teapot did not explode! We beat a hasty retreat, cause I think the lady was wise to our shenanigans, and was getting weird-er. I hope my baby does not take up a life of crime now... Dave nicar

Be Still...

I went for a ride on my bike today. I've had trouble running lately, so I've tried to spend more time on my bike. I rode thru the little suburb I live in, to the really nice running/bike trails we have here in Memphis. I rode on the paved trail thru the forest to get to the Running/biking trails, and although it is literally "over the river, and through the woods". Sadly, it does not lead to Grandmother's house as the song promises. Anyway, as I entered the woods on the dirt trail, dodging the puddles the rain had left in my path, about 5 minutes in, I was suddenly struck with the amazing stillness that I felt inside the woods, only minutes from thousands of cars impatiently making their way home from work to begin the weekend. The dull roar of the traffic was barely discernible in the distance, and the sun, bright and unrestrained by clouds, created a silent symphony of colors and shadows and contrast. And I stopped, turned off my MP3 player, and stood there in the middle of this quietness, overwhelmed by the hugeness of my God, and how in the midst of His GreatBig-ness, He cares enough about me to stir my heart, and remind me that His love for me, truly is better than life, bigger than life, so much better than the sweet life He has brought to me. So I took several amazing moments with my eyes closed, and my head thrown back, and my arms outstretched, to not ask, or plead, or need, or want anything from my creator, but just to BE His child. It was the best part of my week. Dave Nicar

"I'm sorry for your loss."

Hey, I didn't realize I'd been so long since blogging til' my friend Shawn, the author of my favorite blog, gently reminded me! Thanks Shawn! On a sadder note, the subject of today's blog is loss. I "lost" two friends this week. One, my cousin Eric, a really kind-hearted soul of 32, died of gastrointestinal hemorrhage this past weekend. The other, a friend of mine from work, Benny White, another amazing dear brother who died from respitory complications, possibly from asbestos exposure, some 30 years ago. Without going into too much detail, as I'm preparing to go to my cousin's funeral. Coincedentally, both funerals were today, so obviously I had to pick the fam first. Both men were good-hearted, kind men, with a ready smile, and listening ear. My cousin Eric, was a guy who always found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time. Benny, I didn't know as well, but I understand he has always been a great guy. There are no real words that I can offer their immediate families to take away any of their pain. I'm not a "gusher", although I feel very deeply for people. But I have concluded, over the years, that the best thing to say to someone in this situation, is simply, "I'm sorry for your loss." They won't rememeber anything you say later, only that you cared enough to share their hurt. I already miss these two guys, and I will think of them from time to time for a very long time, and miss them. Goodbye Eric, I love you. Goodbye Benny, I loved you too.

My how time flies...

Hola! What's up folks? I have been so consumed lately with working on my CD, that I've totally neglected my blog, and quite frankly, the uproar has been deafening. Riots on the streets of Memphis, Congressmen, actually getting UP and OUT of their chairs storming the capital to protest my dereliction of blogging duty. I'm humbled by the response, really. You never know how much you are missed until you step away from the wheel for a few days, and then POOF! You're no longer living the dream, but you are a victim of it. I'll do better, really, give me another chance, I need mercy. I'll come through for you, Back soon, Dave.

Coming Soon!

Coming soon! davenicar.com My CD release is June 2006, Until then, check out: "myspace.com/davenicarband"

Closer and closer!

Hello to all! Thanks for being so patient. (notice how I write this blog as though thousands of people are just chompin' at the bit to read my every word!) I'm getting closer and closer to releasing my next CD, entitled, "Castaway". I'm expecting to have it finished and duplicated by May, so keep your fingers crossed! I've got my "myspace" page up and running now, so check it out at myspace.com/davenicar and drop me a line to tell me what you think. I should have my website up in the next month with song clips loaded for you all to hear. Other than that, nothing else is going on, life is good. I'm hanging out with Abi, my daughter tonight, so I'm gonna end with this. I'm not feeling very introspective lately, and that's a good thing for me. I'm running the Little Rock half marathon on Sunday. This race boasts of having the largest finishers medal in the world, cool huh? I'll write a blog about it next week with a picture of the medal. Check ya later! Dave

Poor little guy, never knew what hit him!

I was sans "significant other" this year on Valentine's day, and that's okay with me. Although I can vividly remember a few years back, when I was with my soul-mate,now affectionately referred to by my daughter and me as "Who?". In the beginning, when our love was new, and the world was still no match for our sense of connection, our bond, our "soul-mated-ness", we would accrue little treasures for each other beginning well before February,and V-day. We found things that we had in common, things that so beautifully reeked of "US", often times finding the same little items for each other, without any suggestion or hint. Then after the kids were down for the night, we'd exchange gift bags, and marvel at how in love, and compatible we were.We were spectacular together, We were "Love Story" without the cancer, "The Notebook", without the Alzheimer's, The Ying WITH the Yang, The Captain WITH Tenille. But things change, as do people, and sometimes things don't go as we hope they will. Oft times people move on, and unfortunately sometimes one person moves on without telling the other one. Me bitter? nah, disillusioned is probably a better word. And on that note, I can just say that I hope that my ex-girlfriend and her new girlfriend are completely miserable for a long time, and I only mean that in the most positive, christian love. Poor little guy, he never knew what hit him.

Nitey Nite, special angel...

You are slowly slipping away from me. A little more every day, you get smaller and smaller, like the image of a childhood friend, shrinking in the rear window of our car as we, packed and loaded, wave goodbye for the last time. Though I am the one who is leaving, going on to a better place, a place of growth, and fullness. And you are staying right where I left you, but only because you chose to, sadly. I don't remember how good I felt with you much anymore, and I don't remember how good you felt. Thankfully, I don't hurt much anymore either, and sometimes I only remember that I'd hurt, and not how bad it felt. And though I do miss knowing you so completely, I don't miss feeling so completely betrayed. I think you may have been only a dream anyway, as I dreamt of you for a lifetime before I knew you. Please go, and take the curse of loving you, with you. You are slowly slipping away from me, a little more, every time my heart beats.

Writer's block

Hello there. I feel like I've neglected my blog for the last few days, but not really, I've thought alot about it, but I just couldn't seem to come up with anything relevant to write about. So I tried to pretend that I was a paid columnist, and that I was getting a check for writing a daily article. I wanted to see if that would jar me into reality, and motivate me to spew forth words of some eternal value. I also thought that if I just got started, that some real creativity would begin to flow, but it isn't happening. I guess that's okay though, sometimes life is like that. It can't just "Rock" all the time. There's up time and down time. So I write this on my laptop, in my secluded little hotel room in Columbia, Tennessee, just outside of Nashville. It's kinda weird to think that just a few miles from where I am, possibly hundreds of very well known musicians are right now, doing some very ordinary things. Reading junk mail, maybe eating a TV dinner, maybe working crossword puzzles, or sleeping. Ponderous, very ponderous.