I know I oughta do this more often. When I got near the end of my set, having brought six or seven other musicians up, and pulled the cord out of my guitar to go tearing through the audience I felt about as good as it's possible for a body to feel. Lynn knows the drill, and was at the stage to plug me back in for a roaring finish. No matter that it was 2:00 in the morning and on any normal given schoolnight I'd be sound asleep getting ready to do the director thing in the morning. I do love taking over the club like that.
I haven't been to one of Marty's open mike nights in -- what, a year or more? Having Richardson in town gave me the excuse -- I booked a room at the Radisson four blocks away so that we wouldn't have to deal with the drive home. We met Richardson at Sakura for a little sushi and then walked over and put our names on the board.
It was the usual eclectic mix -- a couple of newbies who were tentative but earnest, one or two who were maybe a little too rambunctious for their own good. There was a devil of a young mandolin player that I brought up to play my set with me -- he was magnificent and I would look forward to playing with him any time. Richardson was in fine voice. Bestwick came down and did an excellent set. He and I need to do more of this together. Maybe in June I can carve out some time.
Lynn and I woke up about 10:00 this morning. I was disoriented, forgetting that we were in a hotel and not at home. I was hungover, sleep deprived, hoarse, and reeking of smoke. I felt as fine as frog's hair.