The perfect world is one in which I can wake up at 9-am with the sound of palm trees swaying in the wind and to the smell of strong Brazilian coffee. Pumping up a 10 meter kite at the beach and knowing that the water will be a warm 80 plus degrees and that in between sessions the coconut water will be ice cold.
At night, time slinging a gig bag with my favorite guitar over my shoulder and heading over to a dark little funky place to play music and tell a few stories. Always have something new to try out on a friendly crowd and, for some weird reason, I really like the excitement of not knowing if I’ll remember the words just written because, even if you can’t tell, I’ll know if I fucked up a new line… I play in lieu of a shrinks couch and for the pure joy of excommunicating demons and in hopes of glimpsing tattooed dervishes floating about…
But this hasn’t been the perfect day, or week or month… Lines are being put to paper, frantic searches over frets abound but without the live opportunity to invade your ears… Silly phases, scheduling conflicts, epic battles, and dead air… A wee bit of life interfering with the order of things… Got a little bit of ass kicking to do, and then I’ll be back.

Yep, it is about a real person, but we all have had the misfortune of crossing paths with that small minded, little hearted, Ogre spirited, big mouthed (we are not so sure they are even human), being.

If the sun shines, it’s always to hot! Little rain… Pre-cursor to the next biblical deluge! Food, too salty! Friend, two faced! Dog, a thing to be kicked when no one is looking! Disposition, miserable (all the time). Life’s goal and ambition, to f@&k up your Karma!

If they won the lotto, if the sky parted and angels threw rose petals, and the planets aligned in harmonic convergence ending wars and people held each other’s hands in unity and love… Well, BIG MOUTH would just know that the bastards are up to something…

Nice thing about writing music is that you can put these sad, miserable people in a place of your choosing where the rocks they throw become secondary to the pretty ripples the rocks create when they perchance hit water…

And the music… Rolls On!

Never been a fan of Kid Rock, although I am not one who would argue the man’s talent specially when dishing out a southern flavored song.  I am  (as those of you who have been nice enough to come to our shows know) a fan of the style of hat used by Kid but am in no way trying to emulate his look.

What we do have in common is a liking of the long hair.  Feels nice to thrown the head back and send water flying while kiteboarding at the Delta.  Kinda of fun showing up to a social affair sporting a pony tail that I know deep down, and sometimes not so deep down, irritates some of my more conservative friends.

The hat symbolizes my  “I’m here to play music” attitude. The gig hat goes on and I am ready to tell you a story, excited to play you a riff,  grateful for that shared  moment of time.

Lastly, and perhaps the most important justification of the dome cover, is simply this: it prevents hair from accidently being sucked down my throat while singing, aspiration can destroy a good song!