Guest Book

OK, here's how this works. this is, in truth, a fan site, watched over by 2 people, and us. those 2 are on their honeymoon. no one watches over this store but us. no paid help, no hired hands, nothing. sometimes, we have to step up and remind people of that, so here i am. if you want to discuss it, send me a PM and i'll send you my home phone number, and we can talk tomorrow. i'd suggest that people do whatever they see fit to do, but otherwise, you know, if you think YOUR needs aren't being serviced, take a deep breath, a step outside, and a look into your own head and heart, and ask yourself why, at this rare and unexpected confluence of the river of life, at the bend of joy and sorrow, hope and remembrance, you're angry at customer service. me, i'm sitting in the music room -- some of y'all have passed through here and blessed it with your talent and your soul, and -- a long chain of unlikely coincidence, somehow directly in a sequence leading back to be Phil Walden -- i'm listening to the train pass through the mid-south. what was an urgent whistle blasting when i began typing this is now a faint echo on the wind, moved on down the line, to places and darknesses different and unimagined. how sad & romantic & apropos. goodnight, phil, and god rest his soul. PS: ann, you know i'm not directing this at you. my admiration and respect for you is boundless. PPS: lefty, some of the women say they feel free to travel because there's a rare quality of respectful, sensitive, masculine, protective, free-thinkin' man that comes to the Brothers' shows again and again, and makes certain the women know their pleasure in the music and the moment is more important than anything else in this mean old world. (how i infiltrated that bunch of A number 1 guys, i'll never know)