Times Like These, Time And Time Again

In February, my wife and I are moving out of state. We're headed back to the Midwest. The California Dream was incredible. I've lived half my life here. But home is calling, and we're going to answer that call.

This Saturday will be the final time I get to play with dad's impala.

It has been unspeakably sad, saying goodbye to all of our amazing friends in the Sacramento area, but perhaps the toughest Zoom meeting ever was telling the guys Cyndi and I are going home.

This all started at a 2016 backyard party at my home. We had no idea what we were doing then, we just knew it was going to be tremendous fun. That party was the genesis of dad's impala, and since then we shot a silly music video, played in some strange and amazing places, and enjoyed the hell out of being together.

It's been said there are only two kinds of bands: ones that break up, and ones about to. It wasn't always easy, but unlike many who try this endeavour, we've managed to keep it together. The pandemic sidelined almost all live music. From the clubs and arenas who book bands to the millions of amateur musicians who play out, everything ground to a screeching halt. Our last live show was a year ago. It's been a tough year for you and your family. We've been quarantining, distancing, masking, avoiding - all the stuff which has upended our normal.

We're going to do this gig in a parking lot in Historic Folsom: distanced, a little chilly, and absolutely just for fun. I'm thrilled we can do it, however. You can come see us, and the local businesses who are hosting us would appreciate your support. It's been a horrific year for them. Gathering is not allowed. We get to do this because we'll be away from "people," a concept that is sad but necessary. But you can grab a table, order a pizza and/or a margarita, and safely rock out with us.

I have enjoyed every minute of this journey, and I love those boys like brothers. We did a couple of rehearsals this week (masked and distanced) - our first time being together in months. The same jokes and snarky comments returned. It felt normal-ish. It was great.

dad's impala will carry on. And when it's safe and sane to do so, you'll be able to see <them> again. Same for the "acoustic" version of this band, Nothin Brothers.

As for me, I'm excited to announce the release of some original solo material within a week, with my side hustle The Causeway. I expect to get a new band together when we get settled in the Midwest, post-pandemic. Music is what keeps me alive. I'm not done playing. And neither are they.

When we played at The Purple Place in El Dorado Hills, The Powerhouse, or any of the area spots, you always showed up and we always packed 'em in. We appreciate you.

It's not goodbye, it's see you soon - on social and other places. Stay safe, do the best you can, and dad's impala will see you on the other side, the good side, the best time.