The pitter patter of rain from a grey velvet sky underscores polyrhythmic birdsong, and hey, wouldn’t you know it, I’m back in the Pacific Northwest.

We’re rehearsing at a secluded lodge just outside of Spokane, and it’s peaceful and calm at a time when the Al Stone organization could use a healthy dose of both.

We’ve got a couple subs on this run - both friends of ours, thankfully - and it’s been the perfect environment to reconnect, take woodland strolls in artsy-farsty rumination, and zigzag our way through a tight and utterly ridiculous thirty minute set.

Tomorrow, we meet up with the bus and head across the mountains to the White River Amphitheater, where we shall entertain with gusto a sea of day drunk forty-somethings and commence a multi-month Dungeons and Dragons odyssey that’d make even the most resolute nerd try out for the football team.