It's like family, only weirder…

Good Morning, Sunday

As I write this, I’m winding down to sleep after a strenuous day. I played in Athens today at Kidsfest as mentioned previously. Although no longer or hotter than last year, we were in greater demand this year. We played almost 5 hours continuously. That’s a lot of skin slapping, and we were all beat. I worked primarily with the doumbek (a new one), so it’s my fingertips that received the punishment. I was suprised that I was able to relax my body and arms so much while playing it with fury. I don’t have the same experience on the djembe any longer, so I’m obviously putting more effort into the doumbek. An old friend, Rickie, showed up as I was setting up. He drummed with us almost a year ago and picked back up as though he had never left. He’s really great and I think we’ll be seeing more of him in the Buford meetups.



I’m literally falling asleep now, so I’ll have to pick this up tomorrow when I can.

*UPDATE* I got up this morning at 8:00am feeling refreshed. That’s certainly a comfort, as it’s been awhile since I got some good sleep. Yesterday was strenuous, but I’m not feeling any repercussions today. After drumming, we all went to De Palma’s Italian restaraunt across from UGA. Their food was really good. Expensive, but worth it. Unfortunately, Amy spent a few minutes with her head in a trash can afterwards discarding it. She was feeling rough when we went in, but she assumed it was the heat and hunger. Maybe it was, but heavy Italian food was not the remedy. We sent Matt and Rickie along their way while we sat and rested on the street. As soon as they were out of site, she dove into a nearbye trash can. I tried to convince her that nobody even notices such a thing in Athens. It’s a college (ergo party) town. People were probably just impressed that she was so hammered at 8:30pm. Of course – she wasn’t. Not in that sense, anyway. She was utterly embarrassed by the incident (and then the incidents on the side of the road), but I told her it really wasn’t a big deal. Everyone pukes. As I write that, I can’t help but mention that I don’t puke. I did plenty when I was young, but I can count the number of times I’ve puked on one hand since high school. My wife, on the other hand, is a bit of a victim to stomach viruses. We’re both hoping that Balthazar doesn’t inherit the acid bowl from his mother. Mine is running at 18 Molar HCL, if you know what I mean.


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