Where is my left foot?

With one of my old pals…

While waiting for Adele and Henry to return from Sea Camp today, some juicy ants presented themselves for portraits on a Coccoloba uvivera (Sea Grape).

(Not really, I had to chase them up and down the tree.)

This weekend I flew to Chicago to record with two very good friends from my days at Quincy College in 1985-86. We had a band, with a drummer who currently lives at an Ashram, but the remainder gathered to record some songs. Mike Dunne, currently of Columbus, Ohio, and salt-and-pepper gray hair, wrote the tunes. Chuck King, of Chicago, hosted, played bass, set everything up including a drummer, and provided hospitality. His wife, Kris, provided hospitality de-luxe, in their beautiful, quiet, and bibliographically enhanced home. Drummer Chris is a refugee from one of Chuck’s other bands, and Engineer Dan Glomski provided skilled, determined, and patient hands on the board, ProTool-ing us for posterity. He will also mix the sessions. Four songs were completed, and it was one of the best weekends of my adult life. With some friends, the distance of time is no issue, and this was the way it was in Chicago.

Some photos…

Mike Dunne and Chuck King, live at The Refrigerator

“Paddy”, an Irish Whiskey currently unavailable in the U.S.

Chuck’s incredible basement

Rehearsing on Saturday

Tors built in an empty lot.

Chuck rocking with his band

Drummer Chris

Mike with his baby.

At RaxTrax with the “turkish guy” in purple. A good turkish guy indeed.

Kris Anstrats on the left, Chuck’s better…1/3? (from a mass perspective)

Dan Glomski, Engineer and Minutemen Fan De-Luxe

Proof that I was there.

Flying home…over the Florida Panhandle

Fuel or some other oily liquid leaks from the plane’s wing.

The lovely pattern provided by oily liquid and 600mph wind.

Almost home, at the edge of the Glades

More Chicago Photos Here

I have been a complete zombie since our return from Georgia, absent of mind, body, and spirit. No amount of rest or dietary infusion seems to help. Tonight this hit my inbox, from my favorite conspiracy website.

Two days of driving with a van load of kids — ours and those of friends — and one wife, have resulted in our return from Camp Coleman, a few miles north of Cleveland, GA.

Some atmosphere from these last several days…

What is incomprehensible to these sweet kids as they painfully, tearfully say goodbye to their friends from around the country, the part of the suffering that is perhaps more difficult to bear, is that these feelings have a life, too. Meaning that just as they came, they will go. The current of the river is relentless, and strong.