On Trust-Falls, Teleportation, and Truth.

You guuuys!

I’ll update you on my status and location and stories from the road and all that jazz in only a moment, but first a link to the interview I did the other day with David Fairhead of Kettle Whistle Radio. I was connected to David through a good friend while I was making my trust-fall into Pittsburgh, and while our paths weren’t able to cross while I was there, we were finally able to Skype each other, which I am told is basically the same thing these days.


To make a little more sense of that last paragraph, let me back up a little bit. Things have been crazy. I haven’t been telling anyone where I’m going half the time because half the time I myself actually have no idea where I’ll be beyond a week. (this made for an absolutely fantastic summer, by the by.) Life in Florida fell apart for a multitude of reasons, but it was high time for it, and I couldn’t be happier. I got to be part of SteelBridge Songfest’s Contruction Zone for the first time, where I wrote five songs in four days with some fantastic songwriters who I have now forced to be my friends forever. (And Ever.) If you’ve never heard of SteelBridge, do so now.

I spent a few weeks back in Saint Petersburg, where my power had been shut off and my car had been mangled and, well, I couldn’t afford my rent or any of those other things and therefore just ditched the place. I am an adult. Saint Pete is always lovely to me, though, and I played the last of my booked gigs with Pete Gallagher of WMNF (one of them was in Limestone, FL– population 20.)

July 11th had me on an airplane back to Milwaukee where I couchsurfed and found odd temp jobs for a few weeks before Mile Of Music and then the ‘Only You Can Prevent Soulcrushers’ Tour with Brett Newski. Which ended in Pittsburgh. Where I made my trust fall.

See, I’d just had it happen where a friend and I were unexpectedly stranded in a Midwest town, and–though these things are stressful, we had a hell of a time. Using the magical powers of social media, friends of friends, and a deep-rooted desire to make the best of a shitty situation, we had an even better time than if we’d been in total control and planned everything, and made deeper connections to the city than would have otherwise been possible.


So I wanted to see if I could do it again. And I did. And it worked. The city was Pittsburgh. I picked up extra gigs, broke into and out of the cemetery twice (this is apparently a trend for me– no matter where I go, people want to hang out with me in a cemetery. Don’t mind a bit) and slept on the couch of this girl I’d once had a drunken heart-to-heart with in downtown Saint Petersburg.

The midnight train to Chicago wasn’t nearly as romantic as you might think.

Also I lost my wallet when Newski and I parted ways. That sucked.

Now I’m in Milwaukee, with an apartment and a day job and plans that I’ll tell you all about as soon as I have something that looks more like a timeline and less like a crazy person who wants to run away from everything’s diary.

oh, wait.