Hi BK! I hope that you are relaxing in the (relative) comfort and security (burp) of the Midwest. I commend your move, I hope it does ya well and keeps ya rockin'. You are a great drummer ... We got the beat.

Thought of you the other day because I was invited to play baseball again with that rag-tag team of Euro-heroes. 10 am game. Got on the underground at the crack of dawn, to out-wit the greedy controlleurs. Beat 'em to the punch, before they punched in. Bastards. Got on that early mourn train with me Ghost Exit 333 mug, full of a think, black cup o' Joe. (Coffee.) Slurp. slurp. Ya know that mug, the one we got on that amazing journey-ride through the Arizona desert, to go mix those killer songs at that killer studio. And this time (a few days ago) I met a weird/cool backpacker with a mohawk, who was flying in from somewheres, and I was sipping coffee on that train, and I tried to direct him to the hostel that he wasn't looking for. He was from Slovenia. Told him that I just read a book by Paulo Coelho, where the premise from the book was that no one knows anything about Slovenia, very funny and interesting. He said, "Hey, this is great - wanna go for another coffee?" To which I said that I had to meet my friends because we were playing baseball, no time. He said nothing, but looked at me as if to say, "Dude ... it's 7:45 in the morning, and it's RAINING!" So he coaxed me into going for mo coffee. I mean, this guy looked like a Moroccan mohawk-ed reject Sonny Rollins or something, and I was out-weirding him, heh heh! So off we went to coffee, indeed, and we had some really wonderful musical discussions. It was a MOCHA MORNING. Wish you were there! (But I know ya are ...) And the cute turkish waitress flirted and giggled in approval. (Now, as I write this, a song from a little-known solo CD from Chris Cornell is playing, 'Seeking a friend for the end of the world ...') After coffee and topical musical musings I met my buds, and was shuttled off to some remote location where we played another rag-tag team. I hit two home runs. It was an old Stalinist-style park, very grey. But it was funny, cuz everyone wanted to know about the mug, asking things like, "What's the Chieftain?" (big Indian head on the front) and "Where is Exit 333?" And I told them the short version of our adventure, and how we saw those ghosts, and things. Told them, "It's the Year of the Ghost." Thought provoking, that one. They were excited about driving on Route 66. A dream for some, I imagine ... One more thing, why don't you come and play with us on New Year's Eve in Switzerland. It's gonna be great. They have great fondue down there ... Peace, -Todd