Greg Ehrlich, my former compatriot with Allen Stone, was a guest on the podcast today, and it was everything I hoped it'd be and more. Greg was and remains the heart and soul of the band, and it was so much fun passing the ball over to him and the myriad stories of which he's chief protagonist. They are, of course, amazing, which is why I'm grinning ear to ear like a dingus.
Greg and I've buffooned around together a whole lot over the years, and we discussed how our being insanely lucky's emboldening rather than anxiety inducing - the Allen band's success doesn't make a lick of sense, but, then again, what does? Given the whole thing's preposterous, to a borderline insulting degree, why not push back the curtain of that random ramen shop in Tokyo, take a chance on the anarchist ping-pong bar in Berlin, and sky dive with strangers in rural France? Somehow, life's dropped us off here, so less thinking, more doing and, above all, celebrating friends made along the way.
Thanks, Greg, for reaffirming why I've chosen this whacky life, and always inspiring me, in your words, to "book a ticket and just go." Should we all be so fortunate, having legendary maniacs in our lives.