As I type this, somewhere, at least one time zone away, far across the arid deserts of Nevada and Utah, making their slow, trundling way across Interstate-80, 3/5 of The Brothers Comatose are piloting The Van to Chicago.
I don’t know where they are right now because ever since they loaded that big, shaggy, red lovely up with Lagunitas, they’ve been very hard to get a hold of, and even harder to understand when gotten a hold of.
Myself and fiddle will be flying out to meet them on Thursday night, and the first show will be Friday night. We all could have gone together, but the beer took up two of the 5 seats, and we drew the shortest straws.
We’ll post more as things develop. Let’s wish those fellows safe and happy travels. Let’s hope there’s some beer left by Friday.