It was the night Brotpen came back to the jam. A black fiberglass cast just below his knee and a Herman Munster boot protecting it and enough metal in his leg too trigger a code orange at Kennedy airport if he attempted to board a plane. Nevertheless, Rich hobbled into Deadstein playing like nothing had happened, Good to see him back. As for the rest of us, we were there in Smash Studio A. Trister was having some technical difficulties after his equipment and blue wires all melted down after his last public gig. He would wrestle that and the amp's crickets all night long. In addition the beer machine was out of order so there was nothing good to wash the Gentleman Jack down with.
There were no guests in the room and we played up to the closing bell at 11:00, five minutes after the red light came on. We played a few less songs than we have been playing for the past several weeks but it seemed like a full night of music anyway. My left shoulder that the guitar rests on was aching all night long.
Kevin, Coffee-Bro and I met at the Fresco Taco where I had a couple of steak fajitas. There was little traffic getting in for me, Trister had a different experience. I stopped a Paulies for a couple of slices on the way home. The temperature was still frigid as I chose to park a block away to save $10. It was the nights of President Bush's State of the Union following the big John Kerry upset win in the Iowa Caucuses over the front running Howard Dean who made an idiot of himself screaming to rally his troops to victory.