Okay, okay. Here’s what’s up:

Shows are great. New York really stood up on Friday for our show with the peerless Don Dilego. Daddy Wrall and I “sat in” for a tune off his most recent record, Photographs of 1971 (hint: buy it). From hearing the new tunes, sooooo many of you have been clamoring for a copy of Ooh La La, Sha Sha… which is as yet unavailable. Let me say this as a teaser: something off this record will become available soon. The form and location of this music is undetermined, but we will put something in your hands, believe me.

And Portsmouth, NH: oh how we love thee! Let me count the ways. Can’t wait to get back to the Red Door. See you soon, I hope.

For those of you that braved the rain and cut countless costumed celebrations in favor of getting down mf style: you win. We concede victory.

Many highlights from the weekend, but allow me to relate one in particular:

Driving on I-84 on Sunday, we found ourselves unwittingly in a game of cat and mouse with a family from the great state of Maine. Now, seeing as we travel in a Toyota Camry packed beyond the gills with gear, mannequins and… oh yeah, people. You see, your humble storyteller was packed into the driver’s seat while Misters Nice and Wrall were stuffed underneath a smattering of suitcases, effects pedals, clothing and mannequin parts. There was no room for error. Or sight. Or anything. Anyhow, to said family from Maine, Wrall’s mannequin entanglement looked awfully humorous… the first time we passed them.

As I said, I could not see a thing due to various whatcamacallits and thingamajigs, so I had no concept of DW’s new friendship. Upon our second passing, however, he related the bellowing laughter that we could almost hear over the roar of the open road. Soon, we detected an end game as a camera was spotted and we realized we would soon become the targets of a game of show and tell: “look what happened on the way home from jersey…”

And as we so often must do, we embraced our roles as laughmakers, set aside dignity and a sense of right and wrong, took out the sharpie and pimped our website.

Don’t believe me? Check the sign (you KNOW how we love signs), Samuel looking cool in the front seat and a human reflection from the inside of the other car.

Through the wonders of the internet, we have been found and now have a new friend or four (Hi Brooke!). You can, too. Here are the steps:

1. Start a band. Preferably a really good one. Be fun, entertaining and visually engaging. (Like, say, Miss Fai… you get the idea.)

2. Have an equipment to vehicle ratio well imbalanced toward equipment. Make some of that equipment quirky. (Think: mannequins, colorful clothing, signs.)

3. Book and travel to shows with no regard for comfort, taking the entertainment of the masses as your guiding light.

4. Pass Brooke and her family on the highway much to their amusement and shout out your website on a paper bag.

5. Have good music waiting when they get there.

Sound good to you? Well, the advice is free this time friends, but we’ll see about the future. I might have to start charging for this stuff.

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