Today’s post is about an unfortunate encounter that I recently had with a musician out on the scene. I’m not going to say where this happened and for the sake of this person’s band mates, I’m not going to out the group. But because I’m lazy, I’m also not going to dance around a bunch of pronouns to neutralize gender for the purpose of protecting this person's identity. The musician in question is a guy, but it does't matter anyway. This is a cautionary tale for all…
We completely lost our minds last night. It was one of those “one thing led to another” situations. I was hanging out with Lora and Jeff, my faithful football buddies. Whenever the Seahawks play, we’re together. We yell at the TV and each other. We jump around. We celebrate. We represent. We’re crazy for our team and we rock it hard. Although there are other good fans at our weekly gathering, Lora and Jeff are my mainstays. If there’s a heaven and I go there…
A few months ago, I had a gig at one of my favorite clubs. Leading up to the gig, I did all the requisite promo; I blasted through social media, sent emails to my distribution list, posted on my website and made sure the date was listed on all the local music calendars. Despite my efforts, the turnout was abysmal. As any sensitive artist would do, I left the club that night feeling crestfallen. Although the band and…