Visiting parents, learning to cook, bombing on comedy stages and writing albums in my home town.
I miss John, Dani, Brandon, Kyle and Popsicle.
I wish I could hangout at their brand new house, but I'm happy to be back in the place where it all began for me, music, art and love, that is. This is not my birthplace. This is not Germany.
I'm rummaging through the storage room. Finding my baby clothes, old toys and teddy bears, songs i've recorded to cassette in the back of my Dodge Ram van, scribbled lyrics and poetry that I both revere and marginalize, set lists for punk shows I played in high school, "I'm about to call a girl" cheat sheets