My bass player friend has leukemia: blood cancer. It came on so quickly and it has become acute. He said yesterday, "It doesn't look good." So this morning I sat in my studio/ office and looked at my amps and guitars and wondered when I'll stop believing I'll live forever. Right now I still believe this because my not being just isn't imaginable. Oh, I can see the empty seat in my studio. I can see that someone will someday walk into my studio and look at my accumulations and shake their head, "What did he do with all this stuff?" I loved it. I played it. I let it take me along, up and down, in and out, in and through, down and through, up and through: Through until I am through. I hope my friend sat with his instruments and amps and song lists and remembered the wonder piled deeply in the cold tubes and wood and strings. That's where the wonder sleeps until we wake it into a gig. So, it doesn't look good. And I am shaken and sad. In honor of what is, I will get ready for my next gig. What is, is. What is not, is not. God is.
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