From A Couch In Leadville

Two hours before show time in a tiny mountain town. It is snowing. This is an indifferent universe and we have to make our own meaning, I think.


I'm sitting on a couch in scenic Leadville, CO. One of the highest towns in the US. 10,000+ feet high. The place where we're playing got us rooms at the Leadville Hostel (http://www.leadvillehostel.com/). It's a sprawling house right off of main street filled with mostly skiers crashing here because it's cheap. I like these hostel situations... they always throw people together who would quite likely NEVER be together... the cute european couple, dating, dealing with each other, cooking soup in the kitchen. The middle aged guy who is looking for somebody, anybody to talk to. The hostel manager/owner guy who is clearly suspicious of these 'band types'. (Frankly, I don't blame him. He's probably cleaned up enough twenty-three year old bass player vomit from his hostel floors and walls to last a lifetime.) The couple up from Colorado Springs because they want to get on the slopes really early. The wireless-addicted band guy with earphnes on, sitting on the couch, listening to music, writing a blog entry to somebody, anybody... in 10 or 20 minutes, I'll hit "publish post" and feel like I've chronicled a small part of my life.

We're playing here tonight at a bar/venue named... actually, I don't know what it's named. But I do know that it is located under the town's only cinema/theater. At load-in, it felt like we were setting up to play in some hippie frat boy's basement. The bar is a wooden box that magically enhances ear-splitting treble. I am anticipating ear bleeds, drunk locals, drunk out-of-towners and handfull of friends who drove up here to see us play. God bless them all.

It feels good to be awake and aware and alive and headed into a night where I'm fairly sure what's going to happen... but you never know, do you?