Touring always renews our faith in humanity. We're essentially a band of roving hobos (and, really, all hobos are roving hobos. I've learned that there are three brands of homeless people: bums, tramps, and hobos. Bums don't travel and refuse to work (see: San Francisco, Market Street). Tramps travel but also refuse to work. They are not to be confused with traveling college student. Then there are bums: they travel and work. Mostly, I think, they paint fences. That's what I've been led to believe).
Where was I? Hobos. Faith in humanity. Right. We go to towns, we've got no place to stay, we've got no food to eat. Granted, we have money, which I understand can be exchanged for these things, but you get the idea. We simply arrive.
But see, sometimes, people take care of us. They feed us, they put us up, they clothe us in the soft furs of their livestock. One of these people is a man named Kevin. He has a blog called So Much Silence. He also has a lovable but decidedly psychopathic bulldog named Oliver that David often threatens to abscond with.
A while back, he was nice enough to ask me to scribble something for him. And guess what? I done did it. It's about music and I think you'll like it.
Check it out.