The culmination of....a really long time.

Cross-posted from Facebook:

Chances are if you're reading this, I've tagged your sweet, sweet ass. I forewarn you that this will be long, I will babble at times, but if you've got the tenacity to trudge through it all, there's a definite reward at the end. It will all become justifiable, I assure you.

I was a little late to the whole Ryan Adams game (which I am to almost everything, if you know me). I fell into fandom by sheer coincidence, an aligning of the stars, if you will. (Maybe someday, when you're older, I'll tell you the story. It's pretty neat.) Over the last week and a half since I've been home, I've been wrestling with the state of transition that my life has been immersed in for the last 6 or so months. All around me, the people I know are breaking up, getting engaged, staying in love, uprooting their lives, moving on, having babies, getting sober, getting drunk and getting on with the day to day circus that life somehow manages to be. Seems as good a time as any to be writing this, as this marks the end of a four year chapter for me. In those four years, my life has been defined by working and saving vacation days to fly to the ends of the earth to see a band that has become like a bad junkie habit. What follows are four years of memories of what I've seen, what I've done, how I've changed, and who I've known along the way. If your name is in this note, there's a definite chance that there's a memory (or two, or three...) in here about you. If there's not, you'll most likely identify with some of it. You've lived it too. A good majority of you have become like my surrogate family. I talk to most of you more than I talk to my real life friends. We've probably been to a show or two together, laughed at the same shit, or maybe you're just a voice on the phone or an email in my inbox. Regardless, I'm sharing this with you because you've been there, done that...just like I have.

"There's this kid, Ryan Adams...you ever heard of him?", Elizabethtown (the movie), Winding Wheel (first listen), "My brother is a fag for Ryan Adams.", discussions about Gillian Welch and Kim Richey in between shots of Old Crow, "When you live in the shadow of insanity, the appearance of another mind that thinks and talks as yours does is something close to a blessed event. Like Robinson Crusoe's discovery of footprints in the sand.", message board song breakdowns, name twins, English (Irish, really) guys (and girls for that matter), the kind acts of strangers (Orestis!), front and center (short but stacked), 13-minute What Sin cherry breaker, "That new bass player guy sure smiles alot...is he stoned?","No more love on the run...", romance novels and plans for the new "Chicken Is Da Bomb" eatery, "On a freezing Chicago street...", crazy cab drivers and their lost Manilow/Diamond/Streisand tape collections, Mulligan's, Jameson, texting across the table, my dog's obvious affinity for Irish men, staying up late to read setlists, harmonicas chocolate cupcakes and Barry Manilow records, porch sitting listening to the Elizabethtown Sessions on someone else's iPod, Patron and Neko Case, the 5am bar blitz at Midtown Billiard's, returning the Louisville karma to Orestis, Carolina Rain blue cave, "This is a girl's skate only.", getting stoned and walking to the Santa Monica Pier, swimming in the dark, Mango margaritias, cravats and frilly shirts, Abuelita's in Topanga, Red Stripes and Jamaica, War Memorial on a rainy night, Doug and Tara, wine and skyline in Brooklyn, Union Square, searching frantically through all the sex shops in Greenwich to buy hooker heels, " ...of red devil wigs and eyelashes", Michele, Kevin, Chip, Sheikh, Chrissie, Darth Hipster, the Greenwich Village Halloween parade, my better half's awesome other half, Doug's balloons, "No, the Stanley Cup is bigger.", Letterman at 11th Street, Phil Lesh at Nokia, Bob from Cape Cod, running into random friends in random places in Manhattan, the drunk flight home, clutching Kevin through Ryan's Salem buzzsaw of a show, Mockingbird shout outs to Michele, tripping on High Street post-show, "You look just like my room mate. It's so weird, I think it's freaking me out.", "Here, let me light your cigarette. Going to Seattle? Good. I'll be looking for you to light your cigarette again, ma'am.", actually getting said promise standing on the corner outside the Paramount, warm fuzzies second row, Down In A Hole, never seeing Michele as beautiful as she was dancing in the dark corner, 8 rum and cokes and a dance party back at the hotel, heartbreaks and heartmends, people that don't get it, people that get it better than you'd expect, keeping Shangri-La in business, running unexpectedly into friends at every show you go to, Cold Roses on vinyl (specifically Meadowlake Street, on a record player on the front porch with a bottle of whiskey and a pack of Camel Lights), Santa-fucking Cruz, Ludwigshafen (!!!!), Exit/In, Hatch show print, Wilmington, Shane, the Plant/Krauss show that never happened, tattoos, blog updates, blog meltdowns, Neal's pictures, Jon's pictures, Oh(io)!, song improvs, skinny scarves and sunglasses, Indiana, 5 hour energy shots, "Indianapolis: the Paris of the midwest!", conversations about poop (don't ask), overflowing glasses of Guinness and Stella, gum garnishes on drink glasses, lucky shirts, texting exclamations mid-show, Meadowlake Street 9/29/08, "And she's got the brown eyes, yeah and they're pretty as hell...and they'll burn through your shirt if you're holding her still...", Michele: "Twinkle, twinkle!", Changes (official tour mascot), Dave, Shannon & Matt, Graboff's shoes, "That Sink Ships is a pretty tune.", gyros on Broadripple, the genius that is the iPhone, Bartering Lines (every single fucking time), Tennessee (home), "The end is nigh!", War Memorial part 2, Jen & Angie, button down shirts and cowboy boots, promises of Jameson consumption, dancing so frantically to Shakedown that I had the shakes for the rest of the night, Francesca & Susan, "While it may be nostalgic to those raised in Nashville's nascent indie scene, my first impulse upon reacquaintance with Shadow 15 is to turn on today's youth to this under-appreciated band.", Marna Taylor is quite possibly the most beautiful and endearing woman I've ever met, Elizabethtown (a great place to stop and pee), The Brown Hotel, beer for lunch, lucky lighters, obsessive gum chewing, Stones '73 European tour, bbq, St. Patrick's day, retardedly ridiculous tricked-out pimp rides, bowling shoes still smell funny, Jethro Tull karaoke, Pentax cameras, Killian the Silky O'Sullivan mascot, running into ex-boyfriends at shows, earnest misunderstandings, running into people at gas stations (hello Joel!), scotch and those that sip it, speeding tickets, the long horrible drive to Mobile, The Battle House hotel, the acoustics in the Saenger theater, "That's what the fucking presale was for...idiot...", drinking free Heinekin on the street corner, piano bars, texts of encouragment, hugs and cheek kisses, trudging til the end with every fiber of strength and grit, my cousin and his beautiful new fiance, crossed fingers, 4th row carnage with Carrie and Joel, Brad drumming like a man possessed, ridiculously sick-o pedal steel, Goodnight Rose and the tears that followed, a most graceful final bow if I ever saw one, raiding the minibar, Monteagle TN, home.

Love you all. It's been a helluva sweet ride. I'll be seein' ya.

"...and if I close my eyes, I can still see you dancing, laughing loud and undiminished."

As pretty as a song
A song could ever be
Like Christmas on a river
Without a boat or Christmas tree
This afternoon with you was something like a letter
The kind that someone writes but never sends
And when you look at me
You remind me that someday it's gonna end
And when you pass on
I bet you miss your friends
As simple as a breeze
Tugging hard upon the sail
Been moving through these streets forever
From Baltimore to Amsterdam
This afternoon with you was something like a letter
The kind that someone writes but never sends
And when you look at me
You remind me that someday it's gonna end
And when you pass on
God, I bet you miss your friends
As pretty as a song
A song could ever be
Like Christmas on a river
Without a boat or Christmas tree
This afternoon with you was something like a letter
The kind that someone writes but never sends
And when you look at me
You remind me that someday it's gonna end
And when you pass on
God, I bet you miss your friends
Miss your friends
God, I bet you miss your friends