Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.
I’m not sure if Martin and Flip took it on themselves or if they were assigned to talk me down. When we got to the hotel in Indianapolis at four in the morning I was off the bus like a shot, but I didn’t make it to the elevator before they caught up with me.
“Dude, did you have dinner?” Flip was asking.
“For fuck’s sake, Flip, I…” Fuck. “I had some yogurt,” I said weakly.
( Read the rest of this entry » )Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.
I found a payphone and left a message at Sarah’s saying I hoped they weren’t worried, I was fine, and I’d fill her in when I got there and hopefully she’d be there when I arrived… She had the kind of voice mail you could call to retrieve messages, so if she and Jonathan were out searching for me they could at least check to see if I’d called.
Then I called Jonathan’s, in case he’d gone home, but got his machine, also. I left him a similar message.
I wasn’t quite ready to talk with anyone yet.
( Read the rest of this entry » )Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.
Jonathan called a little while later. I took it on the kitchen phone and Remo made himself scarce.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey. I…” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to check in.”
I kept it light. “Like to a hotel?”
He let out a little huff of breath and I knew he was smiling, though he hadn’t gotten all the way to a laugh. “You want to come get some lunch down here? I’m at the place down the hill.”
“Why, so I won’t yell at you like I did last night?” Well, so much for light.
( Read the rest of this entry » )Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.
Playing as an instrumental threesome felt distinctly weird. Like missing a limb, or something. We often played without Ziggy in rehearsal for a minute or two at a time, but to go a whole hour without him? It just felt strange. On the other hand I could hear things I normally couldn’t. Maybe because we were each trying to fill that missing space. Maybe because we were a little rusty. By the end of the hour it felt good, but it had sent my brain spinning in a way I hadn’t expected.
I didn’t expect to keep discovering new things in songs we’d written years ago and had played a million times. But somehow I did. We only played for an hour–didn’t want to overdo it. We headed back to town in the van and I hardly said a word the whole time.
Ziggy being absent worked out in an odd sort of way, then. For more than one reason. You see, after we got home I went straight back out again. I took Green Line into downtown Boston to meet Jonathan, who was coming in for the weekend on the train.
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