It Came and Went

Thirteen years ago, when the Mike Gunn finally collapsed under its own weight, I began the process of wishing it could happen again somehow, someday, despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary. That band was dear to me in ways that are just simple and maybe not worth sharing. Much of it revolved around the way I felt for the people involved. Yes, we had shortcomings, and we were well aware of them. Yes, our technical prowess, our skills of self promotion, our crowd appeal all lacked something essential, but I also felt, and feel more than ever today, that there was a chemistry there between us that kept it all from being a total failure. Sure we played a lot, and sure you hear the hype about the Texas psych scene, and we have been retrospectively referred to on many occasions as being "legendary," which, in all honesty, is total bullshit. And I mean total bullshit not from a cynical standpoint, but total bullshit from an it simply holds no water as an argument angle. There are no legends surrounding us. We were a band, an exceedingly marginal band that seemed to have won a number of people over who simply got our chemistry and enjoyed the music we made.

The road to Sunday's show has been a long one. Much stood in the way of this not only being worth the wait, but even happening at all. I won't expound any further on the subject as it is not only boring, it is also irrelevant. Suffice to say that it all came together Sunday night.

It feels good when things are working on stage, it feels really good. We had some issues to be sure. Tom's guitar killed itself, and my guitar came unplugged, but none of it mattered in the least. What did matter was that four guys who have been friends for almost twenty years got it together for one night, in front of a dream audience of peers, friends, family, and fans, and played the songs with conviction like they should.

It came together. To be honest, for me, it was actually, no fucking lie, magic.

So much for me converged on that night that to even begin to explain it would just devolve into emotional nonsense.

Sunday night I was glad to be alive. I don't feel that way too much. I think it, but I almost never feel it. I can intellectualize the joy of existence, but it's just that. And when I try to look at what I feel I am often left holding the bag.

There are times when I feel my tenure in this blog has run its course. I write what I think and what I feel, and I write to verbalize the way that I see this life. In the NAP I center my views around music.

With all that has happened in my life of late, the commitment I have to this blog has been shaken. I don't think I am ready to hang it up because honestly at this point my ego still gets something from it. Also, I still enjoy the discipline of getting something out of this insular head of mine on a regular schedule.

I guess what I am saying is that with all that is happening, I am not free, or should I say, comfortable to talk about what I really want to talk about. And so, having to concoct a post about music, when I really don't give a shit about that, is pretty fucking tough. Eventually I will come back with all the power in my voice I need to survive, but for now, I am humble and I am coming from a distance.

Through it all, we made it happen, and in the end, that night was worth it for me. What more can I say? See you next week maybe? Yeah, maybe.

So in closing, I just want to thank Rosa for her hard work, I want to thank Ramon for being a total asshole in a good way, I want to thank everyone who ever supported the Mike Gunn in any way. And most of all, I want to thank Curt, Scott, and Tom for putting so much of themselves into this all those years ago as well as now. It worked for one last night and I won't forget it.

Back then, we left it floundering, because that's just the way it was, but we have ended it on a high note, and I gotta tell you, that is the only way to go out. We should all be so lucky.

So, thank you.