(oldest dream, newest dream)

Indifference was not an option - something was down there, something alive. It would be risky to investigate, the walls were tall and it would be difficult to get out...... Now I see it. It's just a thing. A shapeless blob with dark, empty eyes. No limbs. No form. Mouth like a grouper. He lies on the dirt, disgusting, pathetic and void of purpose. I wiggle my thumb above him, teasing. Somehow he manages to lick me, the bastard. But I can't even kill him. He's like a balloon that won't pop. This was a bad idea.

I tried to leave the situation. I tried to be civil but that fucker just kept coming at me. So I taught him a lesson. I stood over him, beating his face into the ground. I screamed at him "why are we doing this?!" I genuinely wanted to know. And he wouldn't even answer me.

(why we don't have nice things)

Detrimental entertainment:



Portland friends Honduran are also on the show.

(starting is always the hardest part)

I suppose this is as good a place to start as any.

The French Quarter trio (+ Daniel) embarked on a Valentine's weekend tour, playing a handful of shows in SoCal with James Fella and Foot Ox. Broken laws and broken hearts were par for the course as roads were driven, laughs we bellied, possessions were misplaced, beaches were bummed, tears were shed and drinks were drunk (drank?).

Since Teague, Kelly and I were all in the same place at the same time, The Tradewinds ended up playing an unrehearsed (and sloppier-than-normal) midnight show to a rowdy and receptive assemblage of punks at KCBR in San Luis Obispo. The next day's Broad Fest provided opportunity to enjoy the SLO community and to see a throng good bands at a pair of well-oiled punk houses. I especially enjoyed Pangea and Punch, the former being a garagey pop band from Newhall and the latter, San Francisco hardcore. But the highlight for me was Fell Voices, a black metal trio from Santa Cruz.

See...