Who Cries Over Dead Spiders?

It's been a weird week. Nothing really seems to satisfy me and, like Jennifer Lopez after her hips go out, I'm not able to shake it. It's a bizarre state of despondency where everything feels mediocre and imperfect. Anthony Weiner. Quite possibly the best choice of name for one who sends lewd photos via numerous outlets. It's like a perverse play on the subconscious. Everyone hears it, then second guesses themselves, then confirms it, then laughs, then the cycle repeats. I don't want to touch on Weiner too long, but it's a stiff situation but I'm sure he'll pull through it with Clinton-esque form. I found this picture of myself by searching something to the effect of "Nashville Street Music" on Google the other day ------------->

It's a cool encapsulation of what I've been doing when I'm not on a stage or at work. I broke my tambourine in half that day. I've played 14 shows in the last 10 days and still stand out here whenever I get a chance. Friday I played three times; 2:30p, 6:30p, played on the street awhile then across town at 11p. I found a recording I did last june during a time when everything I'd built was in a painful state somewhere between cracked and shattered. It's like eight minutes long but there's something strangely beautiful about the whole thing. It's an emotional journal entry, begging things not to break and somehow set to music. I remember recording it. It was live in downtown Ybor City, FL, June 22nd, 2010. I'd dropped a Zoom H4N on the piano and completely made up the whole song on the spot. I'm so glad I caught it on tape. I was crying my eyes out and was terrified to try to play that night. You can hear every emotional strain in my voice and by the time I finished, the tension in the air was so thick you couldn't breathe. I finally let out this huge sigh of relief and everyone started clapping for what seemed an eternity. I've never had so many people hug me after a show as I did that night. I haven't been brave enough to listen to it until today. I'll email it to anyone who wants to hear it. Ironically enough, I found that recording on the same day that I wrote a song (on the same subject) called "Who Cries Over Dead Spiders?" touching on fact that the whole thing doesn't really matter. I like where I am right now. I've never been happier with my life, friends, family, music, opportunities, etc...((starts singing))...//my my my a man can't ignore the signs; depression will kill you just as much as dying. My my my a man can not deny that sometimes it's not even worth the crying...// 

I'm not playing for the first time in 10 days so am super excited to check out Nichole's show tonight then trying out my new tunes "Loneliest Tonight" and, the previously mentioned, "Dead Spiders" tomorrow. Gonna be a good time. They're considering inducting Johnny Cash into the hip-hop/rap hall of fame for his contribution to violent lyrics with Folsom Prison Blues' line, "I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die." I hope to God it happens. Nothing cooler than Johnny Cash touching all three music halls (Rock, Country and Hip-Hop/Rap). My truck smells like a civil war era plantation. It's a cotton-pickin' good, ol' fashion time in the modern age aluminum covered wagon...