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MurakamiI got pretty excited when I had a chance to play at goodbye blue monday last saturday, but the truth is… I was suppose to play there once before.

It was the summer of 2008 and there were many birds in the sky. Too many birds. Toomany. To Mahni birds.

Anyay, where was I?

Oh yeah, that summer I managed to get on the bill for Goodbye Blue Monday’s lovely-memorial-daylong-drinkalong-barbecue-music celebration. I was told there would be beer and food and music starting in the early afternoon. It sounded awesome then and it still sounds freaking cool now.

So I arrive at like 2 or 3 carrying my favorite and heaviest guitar amp as well as many many pedals and a guitar, I guess. I sat with my girlfriend at the time and my good pal ebrownabouttown who, to this day, comes to all my shows and is the coolest guy ever. Watch out for his upcoming christmas musical spectacular. I think there will be an all men shirtless choir? Wow, I like, digress…

The short-of-breath version of this long-winded story is that we sat around and drank until it started to get dark and then there was no music and I felt a little put off by the whole thing. I carried around a weird amount of guilt about this event for a few years. Had I not been rigorous enough about checking on set times? Who else was supposed to be playing? What other info had I missed?

If you know anything about me, then you know that I can get obsessively focused on little poops like that.

It was a bad summer, and in many ways signaled a call to action for me. The failed gig/Memorial Day didn’t cause it, but it was one of many things that made me change direction in my life.

Anyway, quickly let’s move forward to late summer 2012 and the guitarist for the awesome band teribalanamal asks me if I’d like to play a gig with them. It’s their first gig ever and so I want to say yes, but the show is at the aforementioned venue. I get kind of a twangy vibe up my spine and suddenly fear for my future as well as for my children’s future — but NOT THEIR CHILDREN. Fuck ’em, I say. So, I summon my courage, call myself a fool for being so ridiculous, and make the gig mine.

Cutting to the point: the worry was all for naught. The show started on time. The sound guy (Mark, I think?) was awesome and patient and brilliant and spot on.

There is a moral here (something about personal growth and responsibility). We didn’t get paid, but we did have a great neighborhood crowd and a blast was had by all. And later, there was dancing. I wasn’t dancing, but some other people were, so that’s pretty cool.

Later, I’ll post some images or video or something, but for now I’m just content that I was able to successfully end a four-year period of self-wrought regret and shame.

Also melodramatic blog posts (Just kidding; there’s more to come).

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