This is currently in regards to the Atom editor that I dutifully filled out an “invite” request for. It could be about anything, though. I get this same feeling every time.

It takes me right back to high school gym class and waiting to get picked for a team. And waiting. And waiting. And God this is embarrassing, will somebody please fucking pick me already?

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This is a piece of software that you install on your computer. Not a Saas thing that'll buckle under the weight of too many users. I thought Mailbox actually did a pretty cool thing by providing that countdown that gave you all the visibility you really needed into the process, and removed that feeling from the waiting.

And waiting.

And waiting.

#random #memories

I've been so busy lately that I forgot to wish you a happy birthday yesterday. I'm sorry. I thought today was yesterday, and I really have been looking forward to this day, er yesterday, for a while now.

We've both been through a hell of a lot in the last five years, I seriously can't believe it's been that long. You were born in the RRE tour bus between Stroudsburg and Easton on our way to play the GA Theater (the old one!). You only stayed in Blogger for all of a week before I whisked you away into Wordpress. I've moved you a lot, and you've helped me keep a handle on where I've been over this vastly more difficult and private and rewarding section of my life. Thanks for sticking with me.

#memories

I totally forgot to take any pics of the shows, but I got some good mountain shots.

Bottom of the tram. Yes, I skied that shit.

Waiting for Thorn to come up the next tram.

#memories #bluegrass

Did Telluride last year. 'Twas a blissfully awesome return, particularly since a year earlier I thought my music career was over.

So they pick all us rockstars up at the Montrose airport. I waited around for a bit because the other dude that was getting picked up (who turned out to be Michael Daves) got in about 30 minutes after I did. He showed up and I was getting ready to walk out of the airport when somebody called my name. I turned around to see an old neighbor of mine from Boone, who I hadn't seen since. Michael Jordan. That's right. MJ was my neighbor in Boone. Anyway.

Anyway, we're riding up, shooting the shit. Daves lives in Brooklyn, I live in Jersey. So he asks me, “where you from originally?” to which I replied “Atlanta”.

“Really? I'm from Atlanta. Which part?”

“Avondale. The next town over from Decatur.”

“Yeah, I'm from Decatur.”

So then it was where'd we go to school, and I went to Boone, so we knew a bunch of the same Atlanta born Boone musicians that used to go to a pick session at the Freight Room. This was before my time as far as bluegrass was concerned. My last paycheck cashing job, incidentally, was right around the corner 10 years later at the Raging Burrito. It didn't exist then, but it was pretty cool going back to the day. He went to Decatur High, right around the corner from my parents office. I bought my first several basses at Emile Barron in Decatur. Just found this old video of Bill – the man himself.

So after about 3 minutes or so he goes,

“So if you grew up in Avondale, you must've been on the Avondale swim team.”

Hell yes I was. Swim team and the Avondale pool was the best reason to live in Avondale, as far as I was concerned. God knows most of the other kids were fucking assholes just like their parents. I digress.

“Well, we must've swam against each other then because I was on the Decatur team.”

So anyway, that was cool. The I caught his set with Thile the next day and I've been a fan since. Definitely my favorite stuff from Thile.

#music #memories #bluegrass

To speak into the void.

So I've had this idea simmering on the front burner of my brain for several months now. But first, I should probably introduce myself, or do a bio, or something. Maybe this will take several parts, because I've never tried to write a bio, and I feel like I've done a good job living unconventionally with my first 30 years here...

I was born in ATL, Georgia, that is. No brothers or sisters. Great parents. Always totally behind me for some reason. I got pretty mediocre grades at the private school they sent me to, and spent most of my time getting in trouble. Nothing big ever, no real cause for concern, I just didn't really feel like fitting into their mold over there. I realize now in hindsight that I left high school with pretty low self esteem after being told for half of my life what an underachiever I was, how much potential I had that if I just “applied myself”. I had some really good friends, though, and at some point found music.

I'd been in the school band since 6th grade, trombone. I realize now that I never knew how to read music. I think I learned the parts by listening to whomever I was sitting next to. That amazes me in hindsight, but nobody picked up on it, least of all me. I was that into the trombone anyway, I was much more into the drums. I used to get on my band directors nerve because as soon as we got into the room I'd be back in the percussion section, not learning the trombone parts.

“Why didn't you just switch to percussion?” you might ask..

“Because we need trombones” was the answer I got for years and years whenever I asked to switch to percussion.

There was one time that I was really into building model planes. I didn't use plastic cement, for some reason I used a hot glue gun. It was messy and my models turned out looking like crap, but that's not the point. One time I'd set my glue gun down, with it pointing into my glass of water. It had dripped some hot glue into the glass, apparently, right before I took a sip. I burned the crap out of my top lip and had a huge ugly scab for weeks. The band concert was coming up that week. I couldn't play the trombone. I got to be a percussionist for a week. It was like heaven. I couldn't read music for the bass drum either, but I damn sure could make the part up. Nobody ever knew, and I never told them. I totally forgot about that until now.

Anyway, at some point I got more or less kicked out of the band. I skipped a mandatory concert to go on a youth group trip with my church. I asked them if I could skip the concert to go on a youth group trip and they said “no”. This would've been a reasonable answer, except that five minutes before my best friends James had asked them if he could go on the exact same trip that I was asking to go on, and they told him “sure”. So I went anyway. Now I remember why. Amazing this blogging...

Anyway, now I'm in a band, and right now I'm on a tour bus heading to the GA theater in Athens. I've got some time to kill, so I'll keep catching you up, whoever you are. At this rate, I'll get to my big idea in another 20 posts or so.

#memories #the-idea