As we were headed home tonight, we heard the sound of music from the park. We thought it was another one of the summertime music big events that happen there. Turns out, it's this FABULOUS brass quartet that shows up unannounced to play for no one in particular. Except for a dozen or two of the luckiest SOB's on the planet that happen to be in the right place at the right time.
Spokane has been through a lot of rough years. But I feel like there's some pretty magical shit going on right now. Life here is good and I'm feeling really fortunate to be here and to be a part of it. (I just involuntarily threw my pom-pom-laden arms up, jumped into the air and came down into the splitz, tearing every muscle in my groin. No more of these kinds of of posts for quite some time, I promise.)
Oh yeah. If your cousin calls from San Jose to ask how you like it here, please tell him that there's no way to earn a living and it's wall-to-wall with murderous meth-heads. Which, if you have high morals, is more of a stretch, than an out-and-out lie.