back in 2004, clayton and stevie had just joined paul and me in the van gogh brothers, and the band had really started to hone our sound. clay’s 3-part harmonies had emerged and our roots-meets-pop songs were getting stronger, having completed our first album with producer anthony resta. we were looking for a place to play regularly- like every single week. we were road tested by then, having toured with pals, the Swinging Steaks, and aside from my touring days in my '20’s, paul and i had played countless gigs in LA, nashville, the midwest and throughout the northeast- in bars, ballparks, arenas and the like. how many below-zero wednesday nights in january in an empty bar does it take to polish a band?

as usual, summer is flying by and it’s almost back to school time again. i’ve been enjoying life at summer house and i’m trying to ignore the call of responsibility, at least for another few weeks. i haven’t TOTALLY unplugged this summer, but i’ve dialed it back a lot. the ocean air and expansive view has really put me in a different state of mind, and the prolonged northeast heatwave had accentuated everything summer. i love the fall, but like many of us, there is a nagging sense of “doing” that comes with it, and this is the first year in many that i’m not ready to let go of these summer daze!

once in a while, you get lucky in life, and i got lucky this summer when i found a pristine cottage on 150 acres of salt marsh on the south river on boston’s south shore. it’s one of those magical spots where there’s usually a breeze and the wind chimes play in the great white oak that shades the house. i’ve been here for four weeks now and my soul and spirit downshift every time i walk through the gate. i am immensely grateful for this little slice of paradise and it feels like a life saver. i’ve named the cottage “summer house.”

writing songs is like catching fireflies. on the lookout, we notice the light in the corner of our eye and, ever ready with the jar, we swipe at it. once in a while we get lucky and we capture the little prize where, for all to see, we parade it through life showing it to friends and onlookers and memorialize it in a recording where it can shine forever. but for us, one is not enough. we continue looking into the darkness for the next, and the next after that, and the next after that. sometimes the fields are filled with fireflies, and sometimes there’s not one to be found. that’s just the nature of things.

at last! we’ve released “backroads” and “ghost” to the streaming services… (here’s a link to backroads). we’ve felt that these are companion pieces— “ghost” being created during the height of the pandemic and “backroads” after the peak, as a reflective tome on so many of the themes we all contemplated as the world shared this common experience. pal john baldi graciously described backroads as “a perfect companion for your Spring/ Summer road trips,” and we hope it will be!

“sometimes the universe conspires for us,” i was reminded recently, and that sure seems to be true as i look at the view from my new kitchen window. i’ve been fortunate to have lived in several beautiful places over the years, and my luck seems to be continuing. one of the things i’ve missed about the west coast is the light and space of california. the east has its own version of beauty, but light and space is rare; and to get it, you usually need to be a millionaire. but, by coincidence, association and miracle, i got an out-of-the-blue call about a little place on a little piece of land next to a hundred acres of light and space— a songwriter’s dream— and within minutes, it was to be mine. i see it as a birthday present from the universe and it feels like a giant safety net in a tiny package. thank you, universe!

back in the times of the last cold war and before, our language included agricultural references for day to day events. a late snow in the northeast US was known as “farmer’s (or poor man’s) fertilizer” because it was close to planting season and expected to melt quickly. this seems quaint in the age of “bandwidth” as a description of mental capacity, but it is more than that; its absence represents a disconnection from the earth, and from the physical world of which we are a cellular part. i miss this language because it made me feel grounded, and part of a larger humanity. it made me feel connected. isn’t that what we all want?

i’ve never been a “good old days” guy. life has always been about the here and now and it continues to be. i mostly feel fortunate to have this perspective, as it usually allows me to experience life differently as time moves on. i was talking with some friends about bliss this morning, and how my experience of bliss has changed in recent years. there have been places that gave me a sense of bliss, and then i’ve lost the sense of bliss that those places gave me. my initial instinct was to go back with a “good old days” mentality, only to experience disappointment. once i let go of the expectation, bliss came in other forms. and so it is with all things, with very few exceptions.

i’m choosing change for ‘22. there’s so much we have power over- our outlook, our choice of friends, our pursuits, and, to some degree, our health. my life over the last decade has centered around geographic change with lots of travel and 9 (!) moves. i’ve tried to spread myself around as much as possible. i’ve “shown up” for work, friends and family. it’s been fun and exciting, and i don’t regret any of it. but i feel the winds of change now internally and externally, and rather than fight it, i’m listening to it. as usual, music led the way- predicting the future- and so it has again.

i recently joined the millions to watch peter jackson’s “get back,” a revised look at the famed beatles footage of the making of “let it be” and their legendary last “rooftop concert.” this viewing closely followed a visit to the immersive van gogh exhibit, complements of my daughter and son in law., and, interestingly, a late birthday gift. as is often the case in an observed life, these two pieces of art provided clues to the answers for questions i’ve been asking myself in recent months.