bells on, balls out

Posted on October 9, 2008
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I was instant messaging with my old friend Danielle the other day, telling her I would have to attend The Wedding of the Millenium “in spirit”, rather than in person. Sucks. Why did I have to go and knock up my wife in February, thus stifling our L.A. travel plans for Dan & Danielle’s wedding in November? Gayle shouldn’t be going to NKOTB concerts at this point, let alone boarding any aircraft. So when I told Danielle that I would be there nonetheless, I said it would be with “bells on, balls out.”

I may have stumbled upon my Life Objective with that statement. Sure, it may sound a little aggro in mixed company, especially the visual of my actual balls hanging out. But what it signifies to me personally is that
a) I will be there any time anywhere for my peoples or for myself and
b) it will come with the added bonus of having deze nuts hanging out. HAHAHHA. I kid.

Balls out refers to edge on which I strive to live my life. Not the edge of danger or of fear, but rather the edge of my maximum potential. It’s too often a place that most of us think about, never to visit. Trust me, myself included, if not first and foremost. I’ve spent so much time (as we all have) doing things that didn’t utilize 5% of what I’m capable of. That would be the “no balls” category, in which in or out doesn’t even matter.

How many times have we uncovered the recurring truth that everything that matters to us, which we are proud of for having achieved, was once attached to some form of risk? The people we share our lives with? The jobs we have, the places we live? The bigger risk is always NOT to move toward the things that move us. To stay at that 5%, “safer” place.  No balls.

September and October have been so good to us here in Ohio. I’m usually 10x inspired during the Fall months, but this has been insane. It feels like finally seeing what I’m supposed to be when I grow up, what to do with with my uncomfortable levels of creative energy, and what to do with all these emotions, skills, gadgets, and tools in the box. Crystal clear end results, to which I’m figuring out how to build the bridge. It’s the great thing about humans though: we always figure the shit out. It’s just the struggle it takes to figure out which direction to move in. More on that later I assure you.

The video in the upper right was my first swing at capturing some of the stuff I’m into these days. It’s a new song I wrote for my sister(s), who seem to go through the typical mid-20’s shit I went through. It’s about finding the strength within to sustain yourself when the poo inevitably hits the fan. It could be hurricanes, or people dying, or anything that feels too big for us to try to control. And all of those things leave us with the clarity of WHAT REALLY MATTERS, and also that our only true power is FOCUS: you only get to choose what you hold on to. 

I’ve been making production notes like a crazy fool, figuring out how to get the audio more dialed, the camera shots clearer, better lighting, production, etc. The goal is to have my full Audio/Video studio completely dialed before Frankie arrives. This will allow me to post a couple new performances a week here, on Youtube, Myspace, and Facebook. I’ll make all of the high-res mp3’s available for free download from here. Collect them all, kids. Trust me when I say that I’m obsessessed with giving you some quality. I’m also more excited than a 4-year old to dig deeper down inside this musical labrynth. We’re going to cover everything from Ska, to singer songwriter, to FUNK to Ambient to STANKFuT, to anything I’ve ever written. And hopefully about 80-1000 sweet covers before I’m done. Oh wait, it’s never done. The request lines are open.

_________________

Perhaps the biggest news of the Day: My Dad’s Birthday. Happy Birthday Gary Carter of Houston, TX. You’re one of the hardest working people I’ve ever met, and your kids owe whatever drive we have to your example. We also owe our rebellious ingenuity to your firm, loving hand. You badass. Enjoy your day today, and know that I realize it’s been too long since we’ve visited.

Once this 2nd baby girl is here we’ll round all of us Crazy Carters up. Until then… I think of you every day. I’m proud to be your son. I’m grateful to have a Father who demanded that his kids finish their higher education. I didn’t always feel that way. Hahahaha. But I think we both knew I’d come around, especially in wanting the best things for my own kids. 66 may not *seem* as monumental as 65 was last year, but I’ll always celebrate another trip around the sun with you. Let’s revisit last year’s little retrospective here.

Happy Birthday Dad.

visitations

Posted on October 6, 2008
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I headed up to the storage side of the attic yesterday, for the first time in a few weeks. I was looking for a firewire patch for our DV cam, which I knew would be next to impossible to find in that cluster of clutter. The attic has swallowed the overage from the floors below, the safer, and dryer alternative to the basement. This has become the final frontier of Family Storage Re-Org 2008.

My soul was in a good place yesterday. I spent Saturday evening over the Woods’, singing campfire songs and playing the Djembe with Cassandra’s parents’ protest and folk tunes. By 2 am I had probably played about 40 or so songs, and friends and neighbors had done most of the singing. Toddlers banged tambourines and the hilarious, formidable Mike-L rocked some ridiculous background vocals. My psyche really needed some musical expression. Long after a marathon of covers and sing alongs (from Jack n Diane to Busta Move), Jason & I played a small set of my songs beneath the stars. Incredibly peaceful and perfect.

I was bummed that Gayle wasn’t feeling well enough to join us, but relieved that she didn’t have to feel like she was pulling me away to get Ellie to bed. And besides, I let her go to freakin NKOTB on Friday night. hahahaha. For those of you who know my wife, just try to picture her ever listening to New Kids. I still can’t. She said that in 8th grade she made the leap straight from NKOTB to Slayer. Few have survived such a leap.

So with all of that musical energy safely expelled, I’ve been obsessing over my latest project around the house. Just trying to wire up the studio for maximum productivity, recognizing that I have a lot of work to do before I feel like playing more shows. My shows will happen at the house. More on that later.

But where the hell is the firewire patch for the camera? When I got up to the attic the sun was coming in through all of the windows, and glaring off the hardwood. The world was glowing all morning yesterday, a combination of Fall in Ohio, quiet living with the family, and feelings like everything was in its rightful place. Tangibles and intangibles, co-mingling. The cable I was looking for was in the most obvious spot, on top of the built-in dresser. Right on, even digging through my disorganization would be easy today. I went over to the corner to rifle through a box that looked like it contained other patch cables.

And when I opened it, for probably the first time since arriving in Chicago in 2004, perhaps since leaving L.A. a few months earlier, this is what was sitting perfectly visible on top of the chaos within…

It’s probably from 1991 or 1992, and I haven’t seen it in years and years.

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It’s only been 2 weeks, and I’m probably still grieving. I’ve known many times that Pops has been with me over the last few weeks. I told Cassandra that it vibrates inside of me, like a feeling of inner approval. So I think he was happy that I was getting all of this music stuff pulled together, trying harder than ever to Do What I’m Here To Do.

Music was my be-all, end-all. The biggest mountain and natural gift. And now maybe it’s found it’s place within all this other stuff I want for my life. It can’t get any simpler than last week’s clarity : entertain/inspire.

———
My mom just called to tell that Newsday published an article on Pops here. This ran on Friday.

special times :: september

Posted on October 3, 2008
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and then there was the one time i wrote an asinine newsletter. :)
how lucky am i to work at a place that let’s my freak flag fly?

love and good thoughts your way my friends.

kc

——————-

THE SPECIAL TIMES :: SEPTEMBER 2008 EDITION ::

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Fall in Ohio reminds me of one thing: my orange wool turtle neck and brown corduroys, gargling hot cider & candy corn, seeing the Browns suck, perfecting my hand-traced turkey, alienating elderly folks on hayrides, cutting wads of caramel out of my hair, Sam Adams Oktoberfest & crisp slacks, breaking out my long johns prematurely, sweating uncontrollably, chasing my pregnant wife with the leaf blower, and too many evil political ads on the telly.

Sadly Ohio has become one of the decider states, which is interesting because we actually drink A LOT of cider here. Political operatives, manipulators, and all sorts of unsavories descend on us like flies circling a steaming… Apple pie. 

<Read More at Link Below>

the-special-times-september-2008-edition.pdf

influence

Posted on October 2, 2008
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It’s officially cold in Ohio today. Fall has arrived. I drove to Columbus yesterday, watching the trees turn on my way. It feels like I’ve been hiding away from the travel these last few weeks, opting to stay close to home to get this zillions of projects happening. We wrapped up a LOT of painting lastnight. Thank God Lizzie & Jess knocked out a ton while we were away last week. Thanks so much y’all. I’m good for it. :)

Being able to see out of the upstairs windows is as profound as I thought it would be. Who knew there was so much color outside? Who knows how many times the neighbors have seen my naked white ass this week? We’re still a little in limbo until the carpet is installed today. Then we can stuff back where it belongs. It’s going to be great to spend lazy days rolling around on the carpet with the girls. We should trade all the furniture in for bean bags. I’m going to try to stay in my PJ’s for 3 months straight. It will be awkward in sales presentations, but my clients will understand.

I was going to say a couple words today about “influence” in the positive sense of the word. Last week, as we headed to NY to say goodbye to Pops I needed to come to grips with the fact that I’ve taken too much credit for the person I’m trying to be. It’s been a busy few years of work on myself to get to this point, and of course the mountain continues to grow. There are fleeting moments throughout the day when I can walk around our house, or look out my office window and wonder how the hayell we were able to pull this off. I’ve tried my hardest to be a boot-strapper and find my own truths. The rough side of that is you get to assume full  blame when stuff breaks.

So anyway, I could piece my journey together through these posts about life and  stuff. I thought I could take a decent amount of credit for figuring this stuff out. Losing Pops reminded me just how much influence  my family has had on the man I became. I don’t know that I would’ve had the confidence to pick up the cello, then piano, bass, guitar, etc. Or write, for that matter. He filled me up with passion and creativity.

The other week I was driving to the studio in Chicago. It was a gorgeous day. I had the day off work and I was heading to Kevin’s to track some vocals. There was a missed call from David Boyles on my cell. He left me an inspiring message about landing a new job, reading my ramblings all these years, and how magically, we continue to influence one another. I was on such a high that day thinking these words connect to people out there… When I got to the studio and we started listening down to the tracks, my Chinese Democracy if you will, it hit me… I met Dave when I was burnt out on playing too many notes in Stankfut. His bass playing taught me how to slow down and leave space. He was a major influence on the bass parts I laid down for my album, which is definitely  my strongest playing to date, in my (not so) humble opinion.

Credit to where credit’s due. We all affect one another, and we’re not nearly as separate as the world would have us believe. There’s no need to feel small or inconsequential. We’re building upon all that came before. I’m lucky to find these strong foundations.

entertain / inspire

Posted on September 30, 2008
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I can’t help but feel like everything is moving at 2 million miles an hour at the moment. We have a couple guys at the house, tearing out the old windows, and building in their clean, new replacements. It’s alright, because we knew they were coming. The entire 2nd floor of the house, plus 3 downstairs. 18 windows I think? Wowsers. We’re carpeting the 2nd floor on Thursday. Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes.

My beautiful, strong Mommy turns 64 today. Happy Birthday Valena. Mom is hanging back in NY with her Mom, helping her through a tough transition. Being a great daughter.

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Thanks to my Uncle “Keys”, I was able to salvage some pictures I accidentally deleted the other day before leaving NY. I didn’t want to say it at the time, but I was pretty crushed by it. It was a complete snafu, and I thought I lost a lot of great photos from Pops’ service.  Finding money is always worth losing it in the first place. Those photos can be viewed here.

So in the midst of things being reduced to shambles, be it the economy, our window casings,  or my concepts of self in light of Poppa’s departure, I am once again digging deeper. Something is leading me through all my origins and forcing me to accept my life’s purpose. It’s just everywhere I look, and in every breath. Gayle often asks me if I’m having trouble breathing. It’s just the work it takes to at least try to be in the moment. There are things we know about ourselves, and much that we’ve long forgotten.

Some days and weeks seem, at best, to be 1 step forward, 1 step back. Good thing I’m in love with my present situation, or I’d be pretty screwed. The challenge this week is to not feel like the world is leaning heavy on the front door, or that the water level is rising faster than we can swim. Certain things feel so insane and chaotic, but the trees keep doing their thing. Bend in the breeze, turn into giant bouquets of orange and red flowers.

These petty issues can’t follow me where I’m going. I’d be fine with living like a monk. A monk with a lot of freakin instruments and gadgets. And a wife and family. And that ornery old turdler Bob the Cat. For maybe the first time ever my thinking is so clear that I asked myself for the zillioneth time what my purpose for being is. It’s just so freaking simple, and staring me in the face: entertain / inspire.

So now on with the complex task of living it. HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA.

Magical Butt Guy

Posted on September 29, 2008
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Yesterday, Aunties Liz and Meghan gave Ellie a buckeye nut they found out in the street. As you probably know, the Buckeye is the symbol of Ohio, or it’s sports, or some shit.

They told Ellie it was a Magical Buckeye, and that she should hold onto it for good luck. It’s not for eating, it’s to hold on to.

I took Ellie out to the car this morning to get her to school. She saw something laying in the street and yelled “Daddy look!  It’s a MAGICAL BUTT GUY!!”

“A WHAT?!”

“A Butt Guy!!!”

And so, today let it be known, that as the markets crash and the turbulence screams in every direction: Today, I am a Magical Butt Guy.

——

Song Lyrics from one of my current faves, Andrew Bird:
From “Tables & Chairs” off of his album “The Mysterious Production of Eggs”. This pretty much sums up my feelings. We can’t afford to tie any of our happiness to what the government does. It’s too upsetting, all this greed and recklessness. The truth is, I’m living better than ever, despite the world.

i know we’re going to meet some day
in the crumbled financial institutions of this land
there will be tables and chairs
there’ll be pony rides and dancing bears
there’ll even be a band
cause listen, after the fall there will be no more countries
no currencies at all, we’re gonna live on our wits
we’re gonna throw away survival kits,
trade butterfly-knives for adderal
and that’s not all
ooh-ooh, there will be snacks there will
there will be snacks there will

there will be snacks.

museum of me :: part 1 of 2

Posted on September 25, 2008
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We made it to NY. Elliott and Gayle are napping before we head over to the wake. We spent the morning at my Grandparent’s house, snapping a few photos and playing with Ellie in the backyard.  Any heaviness is temporarily lifted by Ellie getting to experience this place the same way I did when I was 4.

Full(er) photo album can be found here.

Part 2 can be found here.

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Luis Enrique Bejarano ::::::::::: 08.09.17 - 09.21.08

Posted on September 23, 2008
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 Sunday morning, around 11am, I ran 3 miles down a country road in Amish country. I high-fived the stop sign at the end, turned around, and ran back to Gayle’s Dad’s farmhouse. Fall is starting to show its colors, and aside from the persistent Deer Fly who trailed me for about 4 of the 6 miles, it was a peaceful run. This would be the farthest I’ve run to date, usually opting out around 2-3 miles on typical days. The Akron Marathon is this weekend, and Jason Woods drafted me to run a 10K (6.2 miles) as part of his office relay team.

It takes a mile or 2 to remember that you don’t need to dwell on any aches and pains, another mile to achieve the “flow”, and another to feel better than when you started. The Runner’s high, or 2nd wind. The moment grew more beautiful to me as I narrowed my focus on the foliage, the fields beneath fluffy clouds, red barns and friendly people on tractors.

My Mom called me on the way up to Burton that morning, to tell me that my Grandfather’s condition had taken a bad turn. We would start making our plans to head to NY this week for a funeral. He’s been making his exit gradually over the last 4-5 years, visiting periodically through lapses of dementia. It spared us all the pain of a quick, unexpected passing, which I guess I’m grateful for. It would’ve been devastating to lose him in high school, or College, or before our wedding, or before Ellie arrived, or… yesterday. It would’ve been devastating to drive to work yesterday and realize that he has at least as much to do with who I am as I do. My day at my desk was interrupted with fits of emotion, tears, sobs and smiles.

It was a gorgeous first day of Fall yesterday, and as I looked out my office window to the Akron skyline I could feel my own vibrant presence. There we are, just beneath our own surface. Needing love, birth, or death to remind us how alive we are. Aside from the waves of grief it felt incredibly powerful.

LEB, aka Poppa. You filled me up as a kid with passion and creativity. You wrote me poems, made up 100’s of stories, made me climb trees, and described the landscape of Fire Island from the top of your lighthouse. Our family looked back at the shore from those crazy pirate ships you chartered. Your 4 yr old grandkids at the wheel. It would be a fantasy if we didn’t have the pictures to prove it.

So it was comforting to carry you with me for those 6 country miles. I wasn’t surprised to hear you passed later that afternoon. I’m relieved that you’re free from a 91 year old body that didn’t serve you as well as it once did. The days ahead will be so bittersweet, but sweeter always wins right? You gave us the preference for the brighter sides of life, and you made a massive, positive brush stroke across the Earth.

I love you Poppa. My hero, idol, and model citizen, husband & Father. You nurtured my inner child, and in doing so created a capable man & Father. You will live on as my moral and ethical compass. In all of my travels, you are the strongest example of a life well-lived.

——–

Lessons I’ve learned from my Grandfather :: 09.23.08

 

It takes a mile or 2 to remember that you don’t need to dwell on any aches and pains, another mile to achieve the “flow”, and another to feel better than when you started.

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we interrupt our regularly scheduled broadcast…

Posted on September 18, 2008
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FOR A SWIFT, INSPIRATIONAL KICK IN YOUR AMERICAN ASS.

Now please don’t start sulking, this will be NON-PARTISAN. I swear.

This is all I need to say…

I just realized what’s driven me crazy about the elections I care about since becoming an adult:

It’s all of us who start fretting, worrying, and whining in the 6th inning. Do you know that regardless of which side you’re on (and don’t get me started about US politics further dividing all of us)… Regardless of which side you’re on, that it’s your JOB to focus on things like HOPE for your candidate, on their PROMISES for a better country, on SOLUTIONS they can hopefully bring in troubled times?

Instead, by this point in the election cycle, many of us are glued to the freakin talking heads, and their bullshit, skewed polls. Do you realize that people like ME, who work in MEDIA, actually profit from keeping people glued to news? The closer they can claim a poll is, the more money they’ll make this month. So we get caught up in these polls, and then our focus completely FLIPS. We start worrying about the negative implications of the other guy winning, which actually turns us into VIBRATIONAL SUPPORTERS of the OTHER GUY!!! This is universal law, and a proven fact throughout history. Sorry. When more of your time is spent lamenting polls/leads, hypocrasies, negative ramifications, and “oh no what-if’s..” your vibration is calling the subject of that worry closer to becoming your reality. So cut that shit out.

We can be more responsible information consumers. We can go out searching for the news that inspired us in the first place. We can return our focus to the issues that inspire and engage us, pulling back from the chaos that enrages and incites us. Is this making sense? Do you sense the subtle, yet firm control the “news” and distractions have over us? Can you picture any of this being carefully planned and plotted on a flow chart? Your adversaries have big budgets with smart people at the controls.

The simple truth I keep coming back to, staring us all point blank in the face: Our only true point of power is in what we focus on. Focus on the aspects of your candidate that make you feel safe, protected, hopeful, strong, resilient, patriotic and happy to be alive. Focus your love and respect on their challenger, because they’ve earned the right to be up there. You don’t need to hate or fear them. They’ve contributed more to America than you probably have. Direct yourself toward the information that gives you goose pumps.  Deflect the information that makes you queasey.

I know we’re all smart enough to make that distinction, because it has nothing to do with the false black & white, liberal/conservative “options” we’re given. It has everything to do with listening to what’s resonating deep within. If you’re only out there finding discord and worry, then you need to turn that shit off.

The world I’m living in at the moment isn’t broken. This could change in an instant with my focus. I’ll make every effort to linger here.

——–

And now, back to THE HITS.

upgrading part deux

Posted on September 17, 2008
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I’d like to start this morning with a piece of advice: should you feel a bit under the weather, you are best advised to NOT drink 2 glasses of Emergen-C right before bed. It does not make for a very restful slumber. I exited the bed at 6:30. Notice I didn’t say “woke up”, as that would imply I had fallen asleep at some point. My night was broken up by stupid dreams about the damn iPhone. Finally got that bugger working as my phone. Perhaps I’ll head to the Starbies with the other iJackasses to hopefully be seen speaking on it! :)

So I was discussing my Hypnotherapy session in yesterday’s post. I may have mentioned that I can go pretty deep into the whirly catacombs of the subconcious. And so there I was, being guided through the forests where I spent a lot of time as a youth. The woods in Ohio aren’t done with me yet, and I know this because they call to me whenever I ride through the Metroparks near our house. I can completely understand why Native Americans would settle and build their lives there. It’s a combination of Akron’s “million shades of green” as Harvey likes to call it, coupled with the cool shade and mystical vibes. Up above there’s usually a cloudy blue sky and a bright sun.

My trance was every bit as vivid, maybe even more so. My 10 yr old pals were there: Joey, Joe, Danny, and his late brother Mike. We were doing the usual, which was building forts, lighting fires and then peeing on them, talking about girls and hair metal bands. The sandstone was cold to the touch and I could feel the bark and dirt beneath my nails. This must’ve been my happy place, which I guess is the best place to start.  I felt safe & secure.  This would become my “anchor point” for the session, which is something I could direct my intentions back to whenever I felt unsteady. I was directed to shoot my roots deep into the earth, and know that I’m protected. “Roots” carried a strong double meaning for me, in recognizing that those woods (in the middle of Suburbia, OH) contain so much of my origin. Latch key kids, disappearing for hours after school, talking openly about their big dreams and what not. I’d call it a sanctuary.

The next scene we “visited” was the Dentist’s office in Santa Monica, CA. I was completely unaware that I was a tooth grinder until the Dr. told me so. He could see evidence in light stress fractures across my molars, as well the usual gum recession that accompanies the habit. I was annoyed, but accepted that I spent a LOT of time in L.A. traffic which gave me too much time to think about the following information:

1) I was a new husband, and was really never around. I spent more time at my job and  the studio or rehearsal than I did with my wife.

2) Why did I even have a job? Aren’t I supposed to be living out here, going for broke until I make it?

3) This traffic really sucks balls, and all these people are completely miserable.

4) I can’t believe Lilah ate that pile of catshit.

These little stressors were finding their way into my dreams, and I thought it was natural. The more I know now about well-being and vibe-control, the more abhorrent I find the whole teeth-grinding issue. If you can overcome your busy brain and ego in waking life, why then should it be able to run amok while your body is trying to rejuvenate? But back then, I trusted Doctors and bought the $300 mouth guard they prescribed. It provided a lot of entertainment for Gayle.

We needed to pay the subconscious a visit. This was a murkier place, and it took me a little while to “see” what the hayell was going on there. The images were still vivid, but I couldn’t tell if I was conjuring them up on the fly as I was guided, or if all of it was an actual “location” deep inside. Regardless, here’s what came up…

I’m standing in a grassy field with semi-turbulent weather overhead. I look to be about the 26-27 yr old version of myself. I’m walking cautiously, and the ground turns to very loose gravel. I look over and see myself back in college, working feverishly at a desk. It wasn’t a test, or a paper I was writing, but the old tried and true “Back Up Plan”. I was only doing it for the parents and teachers and whoeverthehellelse that told me The Back Up Plan was mandatory. You just can’t, you know, pursue a life of creative freedom. No one succeeds at that. Even Huey Lewis had an engineering degree from Cornell or some shit. I heard recently that “having Plan B guarantees Plan B”. I’ve also been bombarded with the cliche that “we only build our wings on the way down.” Little did I know the battle wages on deep within. Doubt, Confidence, Knowing. Doubt. Confidence. Knowing. Don’t we all have some version of that cycle in at least, I don’t know, 1000 areas of our lives?

This is already getting long so I’ll have to share the results of my session tomorrow. I need to leave you with the most remarkable advice that I received from the woman who took me under. This is how she described the process we were undertaking:  All of us use computers these days, and we know that we occasionally need to upgrade the  operating system. Many times when we do this, the older versions of the software are no longer compatible.

As we travel through life and start discovering our own “truths” or enlightenment, we can compare these new paradigms to New Operating Systems.  The challenge is, that our culture, our parents and schools have installed all sorts of outdated software since we were INFANTS. There’s Education software, and Guilt software, Religion software, What it Means to Be a Good Son/Daughter software… I’ve worked hard these last few years on keeping my operating system up to date. Going back through that old software is something I don’t even like thinking about. It’s the past. It’s over. It can’t touch me. There are only a few processes available that can help unravel that myriad of wiring and frames of reference.

I’ve been to shrinks and counselors. I’ve received some benefit from all of them. If they had their way (like Chiropractors), you would just continue going for the rest of your life. You’ll somehow never get through ALL of the shit. Not one of them was able to take me beyond what I recognized to be self-limiting beliefs, or unwanted behavior. Saturday was my first glimpse into my murky zones, and I knew when I came to that I was finally on the mend. My inner light bulb is glowing through my skin right now just thinking about it.

Degrees of hell have broken loose since Saturday, which is to be expected following any type of breakthrough. There’s no going back. It’s been nothing but hurricanes, wind storms, coughs and fever, car repairs, and work crap since. But even today with little sleep, no A/C in the Nissan, and an unwritten week ahead of me… I felt compelled to shave the goddamn rat’s nest off my head and get back to the basics. I’m healthier than I’ve ever been before, and there’s still so so so much more to do. It’s back to Chicago this week for my last Cullens show. I feel more comfortable rolling like I did when I was 19. The Funky Monk.

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