We’re all itching for transcendence. For that Big and beyond. For the phone call, the particular pathway, the treasure train, the High day, the cigarette, the show, the nostalgia, the good stuff, the embrace, the whatever kind of thing that makes you feel OK  and sometimes while scraping for that prime cut of meat we forget about that humongous vat of grace in the sky… tipping and pouring out over our geography, our lives, our California….. From here to Sunday to Memphis and Eastward we’re all kicking up dust and lobbing midnight darts.  There’s clowns and wolves out there and you don’t need either to rave about you.  Just sit in a circle and learn each other’s songs , the ups and downs of em’, the sweet places to put a lick and the good spots to stay quiet…

-Welch