No Surrender/No Retreat

I've lived in a truckbed for nearly 6 weeks now and, honestly, can't think of anything I'd rather be doing. It's amazing how efficient one becomes when stripped of everything that most consider necessity. With systematic regularity, I've figured out how to shop, cope with weather conditions, stay hygienically acceptable, store food/clothing/guitars/amps/etc, sleep, cook, travel, practice and do virtually anything else quite comfortably in the confines of a 4x6 truckbed. It's bizarre. It's gotten to a point that I don't even think of it as abnormal anymore; although subconsciously I'm well aware of the fact that it's as abnormal as a paraplegic kick boxing champion. On the other hand, if it's really true that musicians in Nashville go from having their truck repossessed to making two million in the course of a week, I'm pretty sure my next home will be a 6500sqft beach-house on the coast of Florida. Regardless of housing status, I know where I want to be and I'm not dropping my fists until I've fought my way to the front and have everything I've worked my life for. No surrender, no retreat. I'm supposed to be playing every night next week and have a bucket full of new material I'm dying to play out with. I met this girl the other night who looks eerily similar to Audrey Hepburn; and not the adopted redhead version of Audrey Hepburn that's really Paris Hilton in a Breakfast at Tiffany's outfit. I got my movies back last night; all things are right in the world once again. It was really good do see my grandparents. I hadn't seen a familiar face in so long I'd nearly forgotten that people had recognizable faces at all...