I am flying back tomorrow - will sing  w/ Joe Craven and Jack Joshua in Brian Joseph's band at the lovely and outa' the way Millpond Festival Friday and then up up up to the Humboldt Homeland.  Funny (s'not the word), but, all in a weeks time my computer died, my phone developed some disabling phantom-digital-twitch, and Ian got hit in our little blue honda (and is okay!!) - but the car is not. 

Superstition ain't the way.

Last night the cat at the house where I'm staying here in Nashville was up torturing a small unidentifiable creature.  I, being squeamish by nature neglected to intervene.  When I awoke there was a frog sitting on my pillow, fully intact, but stunned.  What was I s'posed to do??? Kiss it?

Playing in Nashville is funny, 'cause everyone in Nashville plays, writes, sings, does-music-related-thangs in some fashion-er-another.  Some folks speak in name-drop so thick it's unintelligible.  There's something rich - some thick southern deliciousness about it here, though.  I spent some time listening to Top-40 radio and feel suddenly enlightened about Justin Timberlake.  Not to mention reading Rolling Stone and Vanity Fair and realizing for the first time that the articles are really good.  Who knew.

I do miss the quirky and anti-corporate sentiment of home. 

There is just so much of this country to love and hate.

(Here would be a picture of Iowa, in all of it's flat glory - half blue, half green.)