Sunday, July 8, 2007
This weekend my band, the E Boro Bandits, played in upstate New York to a extremely jovial crowd of stoned kids, drunk bikers, and geriatric burnt out hippies, all for the love of music and "good times". It was an experience to remember. The camp consisted of a now paved road, a dirt path with a copious amount of jagged rocks to destroy the undercarriage of your car, a stage with a decent sound system and, most importantly, a view that a star-seeker such as myself would kill to have at his disposal. I only wish the nights had been only slightly more sober. The first night was perfect. The altitude kept the cloud cover down, and the field was quiet. Observation was at a peek and it was almost too easy to pick out that ghost white haze that delineated the Milky Way. For the first time in my life, I was home.