Last night the nearly-complete 2010 model of Sid Luscious and The Pants rehearsed for the first time.
Getting a band back together and playing for the first time is always a little nerve-racking. It's like meeting an old lover.
Will they be so fat they're nearly unrecognizable?
Will they be shockingly ageless?
Hotter than ever?
Appropriately, The Pants are like putting on your favorite pair of old jeans.
Dante's got a new drum kit. Pony's got hair again (and I think it's his, this time). Foxx Trott is holding down the low end. Naturally, there's a new keyboard player. We sounded surprisingly good, and by the time our big festival gig comes up, we'll be in fighting trim.
I slept well last night. I had a dream.
I was in a house. It had recently been renovated. New bathrooms, with beautiful, soft white towels with teal stripes. New carpet that felt like beach sand beneath my feet. New paint on the walls. A few pieces of elegant, minimal furniture in the rooms - coming or going? Either someone had recently moved out or was about to move in, or both.
Oddly enough, balled-up newspapers and magazines were stuffed in all the air vents.
I heard voices as I wandered through. Out the windows I could see trees gently waving in a Spring breeze.
I found people in the living room, waiting for me. Some dead friends and relatives, drinking wine and chatting. My parents, together, and happy - before my near-success and the money and everything else drove them apart.
I was suffused with a tremendous and rare sense of peace and well-being. And as the alarm sounded reveille and the dream began to fade, I finally realized where I was:
So many people have come and gone
Their faces fade as the years go by
Yet I still recall as I wander on
As clear as the sun in the summer sky...