Backflung, Deb.

I *finally* managed one of my own encounters.

Pick it up

I was doing vocals because I was the keyboard player's chick. The band sucked, but joyfully. It was a pretentious little get-up of Appalachian and rock instruments doing Celtic versions of hymns. We were inexperienced and too impressed with our own novelty. We played around regional churches and coffeehouses, repeatedly explaining our blasphemous name. Elders shrugged wisely, noting our lack of understanding.

Later, the band would implode in a fit, taking ourselves too seriously.

But it was all roses and footlights when they said, "We need a bassist. Do you play bass?"

"Well, no," I said. "But I could learn."

I'm totally gonna be borrowing all those murder books. And I'm on every lefty list there is...write me at Gitmo, ok? (I wondered what in my life I would have to write about...)

write me at Gitmo, ok?

I love having pen pals.

Cool. And maybe the wife can send cakes with files in them. (I do have, in my favor, that despite having demonstrated several times, I've stopped short of civil disobedience. Which either makes me a pragmatist or a chickenshit, but I've never been arrested.)

My sister figures she's on the slow boat to Gitmo, erika, so you'll kinda know someone there.

Well, I guess I won't be alone... Yay?

Much later, but back at you, Deb.

Liese! WHEET! Lovelovelove. And boy, does it rings bells. You would get on well with my world-class bassplayer.

Lilty, got it, and many many thanks.

I figured out who the singer in the story is, who the best friend was, and why the singer's silence is ironic. Hoping to finish the story by the weekend; I need to get moving on "Cruel Sister" and also some on "Burden of Memory". It's possible I am slightly overextended, what with the going to Seattle to kick off book tour next weekend.

And maybe the wife can send cakes with files in them.

Honey, if you're heading for Gitmo, I'm going to be in whatever charming little oubliette the Bushies use for prisoners they want less visible. Send lawyers, guns and money! (warren zevon love)

This is true... maybe I could hide a file in my chair somewhere, convince 'em it was Wheelchair Parts...ABs never understand about that stuff and those guys won't, for sure.