Boulder, CO – FTS – April 21, 1998

This is my last week of college!  For graduation, I bought myself my very own cell phone!  A potential drummer named Brian McRae was the first person to leave me a message on my new voicemail.  He said he’d be interested in working on my demo.  This cell phone thing is the greatest. 

I did vocal exercises on my way to rehearsal with Tinny Yellow Ducks who sometimes sound really good and sometimes awful.  Last night was awful.  Dave, the bassist, decided he wanted to pull out of the gig opening for The Samples because “it’s not even going to pay for gas to the gig” and frankly I’m done with this whole garage band scene.  The late drunk nights, the cold, the ringing in my ears, the drums so loud that I can’t even hear my voice coming out of my mouth.  I’m sick of the crackheads that jump when the motion sensor lights betray their efforts to break into our cars.  I’m sick of the ceiling stain which drips again.  I’m sick of the infighting, the other bands in neighboring garages that compete for airspace with their never-ending jams.  I’m sick of driving home dodging deer and worrying the gigs I’ve lined up for us (Like these with The Samples) will be gift horses looked straight in the mouth.  God, Please send me my own band.  FTS.