Last week I bought a lot of 200 records at the local tiny junk-auction house. There was a Ted curson record and a Keith Jarret record I wanted. The lot was dirt cheap so I accepted the consequences of junk auction lots: A few records I want, and 190ish I don’t, without any guarantee the good stuff will be playable, but a guarantee I will get to carry home and sort through 200 records – which is a solid way to spend a Friday night. Brought the box home and within was a huge stash of late 80’s house 12" records. Other good stuff like a bunch of those restaurant records of orchestral interpretations of pop hits. Trust me that stuff has aged well. To minimize stylus destruction I broke out the spin-clean, micro fiber towels and dish racks and got to scrubbing. Was already running on 3 hours sleep due to work stuff the night before. Confident the joy of a good record sort n wash would see me through. Also decided vodka would be a solid insurance policy against wrist soreness and assorted other tap-out excuses. Lots of stops to listen ensued, lots of staring at labels, hours went by, extreme fatigue set in. I have cats so a half finished wash job with 100 records left in dish racks won’t do. The vision blurred and the lack of coordination got serious. Drank coffee, took a walk, dropped things on the floor, pulled up a chair and tried to sit-wash. That doesn’t work. Somehow my perseverance to finish the job turned into sleep. Only time this has ever happened in my life. I woke up on the floor, spin-clean tipped over, cleaning solution landed on crotchal area. Wife came downstairs – my heroic wash till you literally drop endeavour, seen through her eyes looked suspiciously like drinking until you pass out on the floor and piss yourself. I continued the wash and finished the job. The Keith Jarret sounds great, all the 12" singles play through with minimal problems. The wife situation will take some managing but I feel like i won…

Last month I was driving from Cleveland OH to Washington State, straight through without sleep. I was somewhere in Wyoming or Montana (I can’t remember) and while driving down a back road near dusk, I though I saw a full fledged Minecraft person walking toward me. I was so confused and terrified for a brief second. When I finally got close enough, I realized that it was a Subaru Outback with a cargo bag on top.

Many moons ago, I played in a band that was based out of Grand Rapids, MI. We took a Thursday night show in Lansing, MI (I hated Thursday night shows that were out of town, being that I work a full time job that required me to be there at 5am). I had decided that my BEST option was to work late Thursday (7pm-ish -still going in at 5am Thursday morning) and drive from work to Lansing for our gig. If I recall correctly, we went on at like 12:30/1 am. Then, after staying for the headliner, I would just drive back to Grand Rapids, sleep for a couple of hours, and finish up my work week. So, I left the bar at around 2:30am – sweaty, tired, etc. I think I pulled into Grand Rapids IHOP around 3:30am. I drank coffee by the pot, realizing that I only had about 1.5 hours until work started. I pulled into work around 4:30am, decided it wasn’t worth a “nap”, and went in (wearing the same clothes I wore the day before). I had planned on a full day of work. By 9am, I was asking my boss for a half day. He obliged. That drive home (45 minutes) was possibly the longest, worse drive of my life. Of course, when I got home, I was beyond sleep, and my weekend was basically ruined. No more Thursday shows.

Last year I was on vacation in the States. I booked my trip end December ‘17, not knowing that Jack White was going to tour in April. So when Jack announced his tour I was pissed that I booked my trip to New York and Minneapolis. I checked the dates and I found out that Minneapolis and St Louis wasn’t that far, but knowing that the next day I had to be in Minneapolis for excursions at 11 am at Paisley Park. On April 25th I started my 1,100 miles around trip journey. Around 4pm I was at the venue site and collected my ticket. I enjoyed Jack and his band. The show was different then when he plays in Europe! After the show it was time to drive back to Minneapolis. Driving at night is something different. I was tired, but I had to get back to Minneapolis and go to Paisley Park. Thanks to Red Bull, open windows and loud music I got back at 8am and I even had time for a few hours off sleep, but thanks to Red Bull I couldn’t sleep. I saw Paisley Park and it was pretty amazing and the next day I flew back to Holland with a few nice memories.

My life feels like a hallucination. I’m only ever truly awake when I’m dreaming. If I stay awake too long, I make more sense of the world. I’ve stayed awake so long that I almost considered a job where I had to wear a tie and cut my hair. I slept so long once, I woke up twice.

Elvis Presley came to me during a commercial break of a lousy Night Court rerun. He asked me what I was doing with my life. I told him don’t be jealous. He seemed like he didn’t know what to say and we both kind of pretended the other wasn’t there. Then he made some excuse about forgetting to turn off his Heaven oven or whatever and said he had to go. I dreamed I was an asshole that night and woke up in a state of regret. Elvis didn’t mean any harm. Elvis never means any harm.

On the big island of Hawaii, you must travel, to see a show. Often times to save money I keep the trip as short as possible. I leave after work, and travel. Same day if it’s a show in state, or through the night if it is at a mainland destination. Attend the show, stay up lat from excitement and returning to the hotel. Too excited to sleep, I scrounge food and scour the internet for show reviews. Listen to my newly made bootleg.also I’m picking up all my stuff to go home And usually have a super early return flight the next morning. So my family of 3 get up usually between 3 and 5 am to return home so I can work a full shift the next day. By this time I’m so cracked it on travel and no sleep I don’t need to get high th whole next day.

On the big island of Hawaii, you must travel, to see a show. Often times to save money I keep the trip as short as possible. I leave after work, and travel. Same day if it’s a show in state, or through the night if it is at a mainland destination. Attend the show, stay up lat from excitement and returning to the hotel. Too excited to sleep, I scrounge food and scour the internet for show reviews. Listen to my newly made bootleg.also I’m picking up all my stuff to go home And usually have a super early return flight the next morning. So my family of 3 get up usually between 3 and 5 am to return home so I can work a full shift the next day. By this time I’m so cracked it on travel and no sleep I don’t need to get high th whole next day.

the dancing the night before…and the music still plays in my head this day

So, this past weekend I went to the Ryman for the first time. Olivia Jean was just a name I had read and wondered. After standing in the merch line and here the band starting up in the background I watch the guy in front of me buy the last poster. I bite my lip and get a t shirt to remember the occasion. We walk into an eruption of sound and enjoying finding out what Olivia Jean is and rock my brain a bit in the process. After watching the racs play all of Help Me Stranger I could not sleep as my mind raced with what had happened – would I ever find a poster? when will I get an OJ album? The sun started to part the curtains in the hotel room and I stood up and started to dance – legs still sore from the concert and all