Better Than That

The guys are gone. The empties are lined up like dead soldiers. The instruments are tucked away. The cables are bundled and hung. I’m watching the sun set.

Chris, Tony, and Ryan left a few minutes ago, and with them a kick drum, hi-hat, cymbals, upright bass, electric bass, and acoustic guitar — all of which was crammed, along with us, into my tiny bedroom.

Late in the aftrnoon — after Chris and Tony tracked “Wide Awake” and “Downer,” after Chris, Tony and I put away two pitchers of Bud and three hamburgers, as Chris, Tony, Ryan and I drilled for Saturday night’s show, Tony turned to me for a perfunctory check-in on rehearsal.

“You ok?”

“Dude, I’m drinking beer and making music with my friends in my bedroom,” I said. “I’m better than that.”

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