Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.
I pride myself on being honest. I feel like I worked hard to stop lying to myself and to undo the damage of people lying to me all the time, so if I lie to someone else I consider it really bad.
So I’m very not proud of the lie I told in Cleveland. One particular one. Except that what I said was true, if misleading.
I should just tell you what happened, eh?
( Read the rest of this entry » )Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.
I insisted we get together and play some of the old material the next day. Ziggy never made it back to his apartment that day. He discovered everything in the bag had been laundered. I didn’t remember doing it but I must have, when I was freaked out. That whole week was a blur. Week? However long it was before we went to Mexico. He changed into clean clothes and we hung around all day. I showed him the Mac in the basement. We walked to get a late lunch in the middle of the afternoon at the Vietnamese place I liked.
While we were walking back he said, “I’d forgotten how nobody in this town gives a fuck who we are.”
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