in about twenty minutes, i will head out with rob to the airport to fly back to new york and resume the tour after a magical week about which i will divulge nothing unless asked point blank, and even then i may lie if the mood strikes me.

i feel that i should be the first to admit that during the week before the break, i was trying something new. i was trying, on some level, to re-imagine myself, but i have realized that the phoenix that sprung from those ashes was both stupid and unattractive (not unlike certain bandmates), and i wish to smother it before it takes flight.

i was considering making the change from jack to jackson. maybe at first just as a stage name thing, but perhaps as a life change as well. this last year has been host to numerous awakanings and bouts of self-realization for me, and since i didn’t have a real concrete idea for a new tattoo, i opted to change my name as documentation of these epiphanies.

as i said, stupid and unattractive, though not entirely without noble intent.

i will be getting reams of shit for this from the band for weeks innumerable, and i thought it only fair to to confess to you before you hear it from onstage in the poor vernacular spewing from the mouths of my esteemed frontmen. i’m truly sorry for any pain this whole fiasco may have rendered like fat from a duck breast.

my sister made me two-bite cupcakes with vanilla frosting and fresh strawerries tonight. so many angels wandering around.

also, currently listening non-stop to we are scientists (which comes as a surprise to no one i’ve actually spoken to in the last year and a half), and we get to see them in vermont for a ski retreat, ice cream feed, and beard growing competition. i am fucking giddy about this.

also reading denis johnson’s “jesus’ son”, and perfecting the oatmeal breakfast. that’s about it, really. i’m ok, how are you?

i feel it’s important to address first the fact that i was soundly beaten at rbi baseball by the extremely talented eric donnelly from the alternate routes. the bounty on his head his substantial, and interested parties should feel free to contact me at any time, preferably by way of smoke signals.

i am presently in boston doing my usual post-show cool down routine which involves abusing friendships, milking wireless internet hubs, misusing hospitality in general, and trying in vain to not spill granola and raisins all over the floor that james just mopped. tomorrow we make for new york for what will undoubtably be an in-the-park-homerun of a show with the mighty throwback and the alternate routes. after said show, nitzan and i head straight to jfk, leaving dave and misha to almost certain debauchery as we the rhythm section head for the hills of the west coast, as it were. dave and misha will follow shortly after, but, being frontmen and all, planned a little better when buying plane tickets.

for the next week, i will be spending my time with:

1) my beautiful, cuddly, wiseass girlfriend
2) my big old fat cat oscar
3) my bed complete with
4) my pillows
5) my pick of sopranos re-runs and the huge amount of six feet under i have to catch up on
6) my kitchen
7) clean clothes

this will be spectacular.

i am effectively killing james’ computer with this post, as i have spent large amounts of time staring blankly at the screen as i try to make this not sound contrived or ridiculous.

fuck it, i’m going to bed. i hope you all sleep well and if you have weird dreams about chasing alanis morrisette around in a dungeon slowly filling with water you should wake yourself up and remember that it’s ok, you’re just in boston for another night and maybe in the future you should eat corned beef hash in the morning like a normal person and then this sort of thing wouldn’t be an issue.

it cannot really be put into words how elated we are to be in this paradise off cogswell street in virginia. after the miserable weather and molasses traffic and burger king dinner that comprised the last 6 hours, to be here once again is like climbing out of the roman lion pits and onto those on of those sofas that you just sort of lounge sexily on in a toga while nubile, soft-stepping people bring you fruit and soothe your lion wounds with the cool breeze of palm fronds. so now that you’e all there with me, a quick recap…

the last show was a few days ago in columbus, ohio, and there were both good and bad things about it:

-good-

• for a variety of reasons, it was decided that dave and misha would do the show as a duo. this approach lent itself much more suitably to the quiet, sparsely populated underground venue than our usual deep groove-oriented, metrosexual rock. as a result, the seven or so audience members got to enjoy an intimate evening of songs that clearly look good naked as well as in the designer jeans and fitted shirts that nitzan and i provide.
• this also meant that i could watch the yankees gasp their last breath before going under, which now sets us up for potentially the most boring alcs in recent memory. however, at least it’s one i won’t be bitter about watching. eric from the alternate routes said it best from the bar stool next to mine when the angels cinched it – “…and the loser is…major league baseball”.
• the alternate routes are marvelous. tim could be the funniest commentator in sports if he wanted to, chip and i have eerily similar sandwich preferences, eric and i share the same team on rbi baseball for the nintendo, and steve is my vinatge shopping consultant. these fine lads playing great music are now also, officially, fun to hang out with.
• aaron is a generous host with a dog named otis.

-bad-

• the arena district in columbus is the most vapid and lifeless place i can remember being on this tour. nothing but anonymous glass and brick office buildings that had belched out junior executives with their blackberries and marlboro lights and amstel lights and fanatical collage foorball loyalty and leased humvees all over a strip of psuedo-ethnic irish and italian and mexican caricatures of restaurants and bars. if you cut these guys open you would find nothing but straw and a few grams of coke dust, and it depressed me to no end.

so that aside, we’ve had a few off days in new york. bass in drums in brooklyn, guitars and vocals in the village, which is just about as appropriate as it gets. i stayed with tyler-who-defies-explanation and we had a typical date that involved torrential rain, a sylvia plath and ted hughes exhibit, dominoes, coffee, salsa verde and charles in charge. it culminated in a pizza/ice cream/horror movie/pajama party with tyler and my new friends bo-flex and laurel while it pissed rain all over bedford avenue and we sat warm inside. meanwhile, nitzan got his coat, keys, and cell phone stolen at some bar with some sort of vodka drink special and a really cool piece by neck face on the gate. nitzan has really been roughed up by the big apple the last couple of times we’ve been there. the big apple as yet refuses to be coated in the silky caramel that is nitzan. but then, it is the only apple that bruises back, and the rest of us have just managed to escape relatively unscathed of late.

and dave got a great haircut. i mean it, he looks really good. although misha, as always, just looks better than us somehow.

needless to say, it is wonderful to be here at the aforementioned post-lion paradise, and although weary tonight, the dawn will find us limber and rested, and our show tomorrow at jammin’ java will be whispered about in the hallowed halls of the stuff of legends for years to come or something.

goodnight, neverland.