Well, I’f you’d planned on attending Well Gounded Open Mic this Saturday, congrats! You have some free time!

My wrists are in dire need of more steroid shots for tendinitis. After that? Surgery.

I’ve got to wait a month for an appointment because of Trumpy-Dump-Donnie’s obsession with the VA. Damn draft dodgers and their misunderstanding of all things deserving.

Rather than scale things down any further than what I’d already done, I’ve decided to kill it completely.

You see, Dallas is a copy-cat art town. Rather than throw down on the original, the collective mentality of most locals is to produce a watered-down version of the original. Everyone in Bishop Arts was stoked about finally having an open mic in the neighborhood when I was handing out fliers. Then, as expected, and instead of participating in mine, five venues created their own.

No one attended any of them due to oversatuation and diluted effort. Thank you, Dallas, for being “Dallas”.

It was fun while it lasted, even if everyone in attendance thought I played “Dad” rock. Well, it wasn’t called that at first. Just wait until they begin calling Gen Z music “classic”.

In hindsight, it always felt weird because Well Grounded is a Christian organization and I was officially excommunicated twenty years ago. Awkward.