Another Question:

Is it really true that I am really loving the new Dixie Chicks single? It would appear to be.

Also, to my friends who have been trying to convince me for years that Bruce Springsteen is not full of poo, I had a revelatory experience seeing him play his Seeger Sessions stuff in New Orleans with a 17 piece band. By the third or fourth song in, I was sobbing, reverent, on my knees. I got it. (I think it had a lot to do with the fact that he wasn't playing his own songs, but still... it was incredibly powerful.)

I keep meaning to blog about it (what else is a blog for?) and to post the (many) photos I took, but I keep running out of time, so I'll just direct you here, which may lead you deeper into my own professional rabbit hole than you've ever even considered going. Works best on Explorer. I'm just saying.

O Portland, Is My Soul in Thee?

So, I drove to Portland at 12 midnight, arrived at 2:30am, slept in a four star hotel, woke up to an omelette and good coffee, drove to a studio where I saw a roomful of people I love and admire, sang elaborate harmonies on a great song by a great band I am privileged to know, interviewed with a friend whose music I really respect for his band's DVD, then basked in the friscalating dusklight with two of my sweetest friends, who drank pomegranate cosmopolitan after mojito while we shared garlic-strewn artichoke hearts on crusty bread.

Even I can confess that life looks good on paper.