My dear friend Ethan was up this weekend. I miss him terribly. But it only underscored the fact that, while I know a lot of people here, there’s next to no one to bitch to, laugh or pal around with.
I find myself wondering if I’m in a social dead zone. But with no skills other than playing/recording/writing about music (all of which drive me slightly mad) what else can I do?
I know this shouldn’t be a personal blog, but screw it — it’s how I feel. Yes, I’m a lone wolf by nature, but this is pretty bad.
Interestingly, some old friends from before I moved to VT found me on MySpace. After 15 years of no contact, I find I have more of a connection with them than I do most folks in my regular life.
Don’t get me wrong — I’m not asking anyone to call me or nothin’. And please, don’t ever just "pop by." I don’t have guns like Nugent, but I do have the Evil Eye. And a Hand of Glory. And sundry potions and brews.
You know what’s weird? Every classic rock song I heard in the car today was about outlaws. Some were dumb, like AC/DC’s "TNT," or Bon Jovi’s (barf) "Dead or Alive." Others were a little more nuanced, like, well… I don’t remember. But I swear I heard ’em.
Steve at Burlington Guitar & Amp used to call me "The Outlaw Casey Rea" whenever I’d stop in — which used to be a lot. It makes me smile to think about it. But it also makes me sad that I’ve not been in once this year.
What have I become?
Don’t you dare quote any NIN/Johnny Cash on me, "my sweetest friends."