I’m in Indianapolis. I’m on again in an hour. Fortunately, I slept in today.
Somehow I’ve managed to miss this huge storm system that has the Northeast digging out. Yesterday’s drive from Wittenberg to Cincinnati was a piece a’ cake, despite the frozen rain and rush hour traffic. Two hours in the car is nothing in the face of 8-10.
So I made it Gil’s around 6pm. He and his wife Stephanie were prepping for what appeared to be a fairly adult party: you know, hours d’ourves and such. I got the grand tour — they have an amazing, adorable house in the hills above Cincinnati. Very adult.
Long story short, we had a blast. It was a full-fledged hootenanny. At one point, there were two feeding and two pregnant mothers rockin’ out with me. I met a bunch of really interesting, totally cool thirtysomethings, though I did feel just a little bit like the wanderlusty little brother. My favorite part of the set was singing “Here Comes Your Man,” with Stephanie’s help on the Kim Deal parts.
Afterwards, Christian whipped out his acoustic, Matt grabbed his banjo, and Mike tuned up his mandolin, and we had a bit of an acoustic jam. Now, normally, I don’t jam. I’m all about GCD and EAB. But these guys were great, and made everything sound cool. We played “I Am A Man Of Constant Sorrow,” “That’s All Right Momma,” and even “Friend Of The Devil” (probably the first and last time Gil and Steph will hear The Dead in their home). It was really cool.
And it was precisely the reason I’m doing this whole thing. If ever I lose faith in the power again, all I have to do is think back to jamming in Gil’s livingroom, rockin’ The ‘Berg, or singing along with Heather, Joe, and all their friends.
I slept in ’til 10 — eight whole hours in a real bed! Gil and I hit Everyone’s, the local record shop. I’ve purchased more CDs in the last three weeks than I have in the last three months. But lemme’ tell ya’: sure helps the miles pass between, say, Cincinnati and Indianapolis. Or Indianapolis and Cleveland. Or…