803. To Be With You
Shit. Why did I ask him to come to St. Louis? It sure as hell wasn’t so he could watch me drop a guitar pick and almost crack a kneecap I went down so fast with a spasm in my hand so bad it felt worse than the fucking knife had.
Category Archives: Daron’s Guitar Chronicles
802. Run to You
The anxiety that hit when I got Ziggy’s page with his landing time was like a railroad spike to the throat. In a weird way that was better than the railroad spike to the head I’d been experiencing, though. And it was weirdly better than the stake-through-the-heart feeling that Ziggy-angst used to give me.
801. Tell Me When It’s Over
I finally talked to Ziggy for a good stretch on the phone around lunchtime in St. Louis. It had been like seven in the morning when we’d pulled in, Flip made sure I was tucked in and passed out before he went to bed himself, but he’d apparently slept through all the drama on the […]
800. I Think I Love You Too Much
They yelled at each other for a while. Knock-down drag-out stuff. The details don’t matter, I guess, or I would think I’d remember it better. I curled myself up in a ball in the seat I was in and tried not to hear any of it. Maybe I partly succeeded and that’s why I don’t […]
799. Pandora’s Box
I could have probably titled these chronicles “Things I Know Now that I Didn’t Know Then.” Sure, most of what I’ve learned is things about myself–and relationships. But then there are the simple things like, oh, if you nearly pass out incoherent chances are you should’ve gone to the ER. As it turns out, I […]
798. Live and Let Die
When there’s something on my mind, I don’t think very well. I mean literally, it’s like there’s something in the way of the gears of my brain clicking the way they should. I think addiction is having something on your mind constantly, something that’s not actually beneficial to you at all. Obsession, too–same deal. I […]
797. Mother
I managed to finish the set without falling off the stage, having a heart attack, or passing out. I mostly tried to pretend no one was there in the pit, but I looked at them a couple of times. Claire was smiling and if I thought too much about it I was going to miss […]
796. Fire Woman
The writer from St. Louis drove us to the venue for soundcheck. On the way there Remo said to me, “You better explain about the lounge act.” “Lounge act?” Will asked, sounding slightly alarmed, or maybe I imagined that.
795. Men Without Hats
I felt foolish the next day for having had an emotional outburst like a five-year-old over essentially nothing but I felt good about the fact the only people who knew I’d flipped out like that were Carynne and Ziggy. And in hindsight I felt good about the fact that I had felt comfortable turning to […]
794. Ring Ring Ring
The next day I had a total meltdown. Maybe you saw it coming. I didn’t. (Do I ever?) It was an off day. We were in some generic highway hotel of some kind, a Best Western, maybe? In the middle of basically nowhere. If we’d been in a city I would’ve gone walking when the […]