1, 2, 3, Breathe...

I have spent the better part of the afternoon severely decompressing after my small touring stint with The Decemberists. It has been a double-Duraflame, green-curry-with-tofu kind of day. I haven't updated this blog in months (except for my random blurb from yesterday - an attempt at overcoming the mental hurdle of writing by committing to writing nothing of any value at all), as you know. This dark, dark month of January was slated to be uneventful. Maybe as a testament to subconscious determination to NOT be depressed this winter, a slew of little projects came through and more or less saved me from the doldrums. One of these being a couple of dates tour-managing The Decemberists - a band I have known throughout the years at Bigshot Touring and had commonly joked (with their old tour manager) about how I'd leave the booking world behind and be an assistant tour manager for them. Funny how things turn out when we're all drinking at a Kevin French soirée. Having offered myself for merchandise, they offered me more. And it seems to have gone over well. Maybe they'd hire me back?

It gets difficult to do these big tours (especially if there is a bus involved) and then to go back to doing small tours (i.e. getting back in the van). There's a bunch of romance that surrounds a van tour in the way that you really FEEL the road and are way closer (emotionally and physically) to everyone you're traveling with. However, the bus allows for a lot more free time, physical exercise, and peace of mind and that's a bit hard to walk away from. Incidentally, I will be tour managing a spring tour with Jens Lekman, which I pursued in a very straightforward email to Jens (and then a similar email to my friends at Secretly Canadian) and somehow it worked out. Though I have to drive the length of this country at a time when I'm recommitting myself to good physical activity and good food (neither run in great abundance on the interstate highway system). Isn't it always like this?

I spent a great weekend with my friend, Casey Dienel, making food, attempting to hold my own body weight through a yoga class (I received a C- in yoga that day), and drinking lots of wine and champagne. Her best friend is a pretty amazing jazz singer and was performing with the Portland Symphony at one very beautiful theater in Portland. It was more or less a blast from my past as we sat in the balcony where I had sat through many orchestra field trips, watching my orchestra teacher's husband play 3rd chair from the Concert Master. He's still there, bless his heart. After the performance, we ate at a great happy hour in the bar next door (french fries, seared tuna, and a Bellini), watching coverage of the presidential State Of The Union address. I'm glad the TV was on mute and there was no close-captioning. I might have lost a perfectly good drink to a blur of emotion and an inaccurately-aimed trajectory. Things changed pretty quickly when I looked up and saw a split-screen of Barack Obama and Anderson Cooper. When did politics get so handsome?

Oh, there's this fun little music video that we were all in. Maybe you should watch it. It is a particularly vivid snapshot of our music scene, much like "16 Military Wives" for The Decemberists. I won't compare the two at all. But the sentiment, the desire to see it succeed, and the fun were the same.

I've finished my jaunt through the Leonard Cohen novels - thank you for those, Jesse. I understand Montreal that much more, though my fondest memories are eating food with you and Ang in your kitchen (and playing Guess Who? over Hoegaarden pints with Joan Hiller years ago). Does it ever not snow there?