I can tell it’s almost time to end my self-imposed quarantine - my mind’s starting to explore truly asinine insecurties. For example, in high school I used to be able to dunk a basketball. Like, in a game. I can no longer dunk a basketball (I'm pretty sure I pulled a hamstring just writing this sentence) and last night this was genuinley keeping me up. I eventually settled on opening for Stevie Wonder as an acceptable exchange for losing some hops, so life's not all bad. It is, I think, time to be around other people.
Which is fortutous, because tomorrow night’s Sunday Night Soul features my incredibly talented pal Mike Hicks. Mike’s day job is playing keys for Rascal Flatts, which is one hell of a day job, and he’s truly a renaissance man - a soul dude through-and-through, one of the most gifted keyboardists on the scene and an inspired poet. Mike’s schedule is, to put it lightly, demanding - he doesn't play solo often, and I jump at every opportunity to catch him doing his thing with his band. Tomorrow night’s going to be special, and I encourage all Nashvillians to swing through the 5 Spot and check out the Master in action. You'll never want to practice more in your life. Music's at 6pm.