Stefush

Austin, Austin, Austin…heard so much, now it’s time to go. Seattle has played out it’s welcome and the dreary Northwest skies descend.

If you’re reading this, tell me about Austin. Cheer me and welcome me!

What is there to say? Here’s a man who plays guitar like most people breathe. Unconciously and without effort. Someone who’s personal life down to the minutest detail is a matter of public record.

I’d love to meet him, do up some lyrics and hit the road. Lindseys’ the real deal, man.

Imagine: you’ve got a stool, a case of water, and a microphone set up right on second base at Mondo Baseball Stadium, USA. The next two hours are yours. The place is packed and you can feel the throb of the crowd through the green room walls. You’re sitting there, rocking back and forth until a soft-spoken person tips their head in and says “It’s time, sir.”

You get up, straighten your shoulders, and walk down a long concrete hallway into blinding flashing cameras and a roar from the bleachers that sounds like Armageddon chanting your name.

Yeah, baby, this house is MINE!