I don't own a dresser.  I haven't needed one.  June of 2007 was the first time I spent more than two weeks in one place since 2001.   I have been on the road for six years.  Musicians go on the road for a few months, maybe a year or two if they're lucky.  We are on the road 35 weeks a year, every year.  Why?  Cause the road is a cigarette.  You do too much of it at once and you become sick, but stay away too long and you start getting snippy with your loved ones. Road stories?  We have a lot of them.  We should.

It was 2001, I think. (Time speeds up on the road. Months become weeks, and a month ago is a lifetime. Yet Sundays always seem to last forever.) What I do know is that I was in Miami, and I was opening for Doug Stanhope...