This Yellow Taxi Cab In Which I Ride

I came across an old blog entry that I had written while searching for an entry about a concert I supposedly attended some time ago. I usually write about all the concerts that I attend and I save tickets, photographs, and other artifacts in scrap books. Someone asked me who opened for Train at the Palace. I couldn't find the answer and I'm not sure which is is more disturbing to me: That I don't have a ticket or blog entry about the concert or that at one time I liked Train. Anyways, the blog entry I'm talking about is this one here . A brief summary would be: A whole bunch of women that I had been in contact with at one point or another all disappeared from the earth. I read this blog entry, as I often do when some time has gone by, as if I hadn't written it. And I laughed because I'm hysterical sometimes. I recalled my mindset around the time that I wrote it. I was fresh in the dating scene after a long hiatus and was really, seriously surprised at how

By the time you read this, I am most likely in Virginia Beach with some friends. This trip was more planned than my Hard Rock Cafe road trip. There are four of us and we are riding in a car together. Four. Of. Us. I really enjoy being on the road with nothing but my thoughts and a great playlist. When you travel with three other people, however, you have three other brains coming up with thoughts and three other playlists, leading to a lot of arguments over whose music choices are the least tolerable. The upside is that you have others to take over driving duties from time to time and, if you brought ear plugs, you can attempt to nap through intolerable playlists. I suppose I'll write about VA Beach when I get back, but let me move on to the exciting conclusion to the Hard Rock Cafe road trip. This posting is a continuation of earlier postings. Read those first: Part I Part II Part III (The itinerary)

My evenings, lately, have been sitting quietly in my apartment listening to the two Jackson Browne, solo, acoustic, live albums that exist. Man... this guy has melancholy down pat! Fountain of Sorrow ? Listen to that without getting sad. I dare ya! Anyways, there is also a tribute album that was recently released in which a bunch of different musicians cover some of Jackson Browne's greatest songs. One of the best covers, and best songs, is Running on Empty. I'm sure most people are familiar with the original, but have you heard the cover by Bob Schneider? It's wonderful and even more melancholy than Jackson's version. Loving both versions, I noticed something in the lyrics. Schneider changed two things. In the original version, Jackson sings, "In sixty-five, I was seventeen..." and "In sixty-nine, I was twenty-one..." I don't know without googling, if Jackson really was those ages in those years, but Schneider sings, "In eighty-five, I

Continued from here . Before I knew who J.R.R. Tolkien was, I saw countless cars with bumper stickers that advertised the line, "Not All Who Wander Are Lost." Mostly, the cars were in rough shape and belonged to hippies... but that is really neither here nor there. The line struck a chord with me, as I'm sure it does with many. Alone, the line is pretty deep and introspective. It's somewhat empowering to the loner who seems to not have a focus or path to follow. In the context that it is written -- a poem or song that a god-esque wizard uses to describe an exiled king who protects hairy footed short people from tormented elves and goblins and a dark lord -- seems to suggest that we may not be advertising our true purpose or path and that when we do, look out. I used to feel connected to this line and felt pride in my wandering ways, because, someday, my path will be revealed to all and my wandering ways will suddenly make sense. With utmost confidence, I can share

I took a somewhat spontaneous road trip this past long weekend, because I needed to get the heck out of here ("here" being a physical and mental state of being). The sensation of desiring an adventure slowly seeped into my consciousness over the course of a few days and so I asked for Friday off from work, giving me a four day weekend with the Labor Day holiday. Back in 2010, I took a couple of days and roadtripped to Washington DC via Philadelphia and Baltimore, stopping at Hard Rock Cafes along the way, busking, and exploring some of the cities. I wrote about that trip here and here . Shortly after that trip, which was a lot of fun, I researched and mapped out an itinerary for a much longer trip heading to some big cities to the west. This past week, as the wanderlust began to creep in, I cut out a couple cities and shrunk the itinerary down to something that I could manage in the span of the four day weekend. First Leg: Broadalbin, NY to Niagara Falls, NY. 274 Miles