Twenty Seven

Taillights like domino dots, only red. The anticipation of what a summer night could yield as palpable as the humidity at the intersection of then and now, where I idle. At least there’s a breeze. Windows down, the heat backed off enough to coax me out of my air-conditioned, sensory deprivation pod, arm dangling out the window, hand air surfing, dipping and diving, ribbons of warmth weave through my fingers like batter. Moist. Night. Air. Motown streams from the … [Read more...]

Brave Enough to Sing Our Song?

I went to a concert tonight. The headliner was a kick-ass country, alternative band called The Old 97s. Most of them hail from Texas, ‘nuff said. The Old 97s, and their touring manager Mike, had graciously allowed me and my scrappy band of videographers (a.k.a. my stellar son Nathan, some sweet guys at Bad Dog Video, who loaned me gear, and both sons Nate and Pat, plus a film school buddy Phil who edited) the chance to shoot a pilot for a reality TV show which I’d cooked … [Read more...]