I have played a couple of shows with Alex Mejias as his percussionist lately. A month ago Stope and I drove up to Alex’s home church in DC for a sunday morning worship service. We played two weeks ago at the Gravity Lounge in downtown Charlottesville. Justin Roselino played with us too. Tonight, we played at third presbyterian and rocked. Its fun to be back in the music scene / on stage. I could do this for a long time.
Check out High Street Hymns. The ep I recorded is on there, I think. It’s pretty awful, but anyways, its there. And also check out Alex’s upcoming project: High Street Hymns Full Length. I am not on that record, but Stope is. It was done in Nashville and is a quality production. Lots of studio magic and supernatural wooshing sounds. You’ll love it. Alex’s other music is at www.alexmejias.com
Last weekend was our Phi Delt St Patricks Day party. An eventful night. Steve and I wore milwaukee’s best case helmets on our head, grabbed lances out of the yard (long sticks), and had a medieval duel in the middle of the party. Davis also had a birthday a while ago and that was crazy. His dry heaves are no fun at all. After that night at 130 am, Jimmie comes waltzing into my room and suggests that we jump into his car and drive towards Lake Gaston to watch the sunrise. I agree. So does Steve. Davis does not. He gives us the finger. So we drove all through the night, met the Massey girls at Jimmie’s lake house in North Carolina, I had some psycho dreams in the back seat and on the couch, then I fell asleep with my head on the dock while everyone else watched the sunrise. I slept all of the way back too. I didn’t even see I-95. Overall: Six hours of sleep. Jimmie received: none. But we both went to class.
I went to camp willow run this weekend for the April Super High Retreat. Not much occured except I caught up with Luke and Catherine E and Scott and Brent and Gabe. I decked a kid in capture the flag by accident. Well… not really. Ok I meant to. And then later, “Hot Rod” the maintenance man, told us that if we didn’t stop throwing the ball against the gutters on the dining hall porch he would:
“Jump down our throats and do a tap dance on our tonsils.”
In other news: It was a Damien Rice sort of drive home today. And you can only pull out that cd when the worst has come to worst.