Another week has passed, and still no word from the LLC. What the hell are they doing back there, that they can’t take five minutes to check in and let their friends know what’s going on? Is everything OK?

Of course everything’s OK. We’re fine, and we appreciate your asking. There are, however, a billion and one things going on right now, such as the booking of yet another tour, the writing of yet another album, and the long overdue redesign of speechwritersllc.com, so we may be a little sluggish when it comes to returning your emails. We apologize for this and assure you that it’s because we’re working around the clock, seven days a week, trying to make your lives as full and happy as they can possibly be.

We realize we’ve been off the radar for a while and apologize for this. Something happened between Minneapolis and Tacoma that we’re still not ready to talk about, and I think we’ve been avoiding you because of this. Which isn’t fair, and we’re sorry.

Misha and I are presently in scenic Ashland, Oregon, seated in the same blurred livingroom that graces the cover of Satisfiction, digesting whatever it was we had for lunch and preparing ourselves mentally for what is to be the final show of the greatest tour in the world. For us, anyway. The next 72 hours are going to be a hectic blur of whiskey and spotlights and gas stations and Mother’s Days, so we’ll get back to you with a full debriefing shortly thereafter.

Cheers,

Dave

The events of the past few days have been many and weird, and I don’t really know where to begin. Boston was an absolute blast — we still can’t believe PJ’s gone, especially when we look around the van and see how much of his stuff is still here. Lewiston and Rochester were the usual knock-down, drag-out, bare-knuckle hoedowns we’ve come to expect, and we met some downright good people in both Erie and Indianapolis. We concluded our work week last night by playing at a hair salon in Milwaukee, then riding a giant electric pepper into the night. Onward to Madison.