Hey there, you Stupid Bastards!!

Sorry... Allow me to explain my introduction. I mean that in the nicest
way. I've taken to reading some of the posts during my lengthy bout with the
flu (you gotta read these high fever lyrics) and many of them are nasty,
sarcastic and all around negative. But I have to tell you, there's great
focus and consistency in them!!! There's also the unflinching loyalty that
would have you defend me if anyone really came in to try and do some damage.
And to read how incredibly compassionate and truly happy you were for my
Grammy win, well... I know when the winks come in. I have to say, I kind of
like it. You're all too smart to just blindly love everything that has to do
with me. If you think you're a little sick of me, imagine how I feel. Come
the end of last year I wanted to run my van right into the median barrier of
Interstate 85 just so I'd have something different to sing in Why Georgia.
Hahahahahahaha....

I'm really excited about these summer shows. I can't tell you how much
I love the Black Crowes. No, I know I'm touring with Counting Crows, you
silly stupid bastard. "She Talks to Angels" is on the radio right now. Just
going stream of consciousness. Jeez, relax. What I'm looking most forward to
is playing some new songs and also re(mis?)interpreting the older stuff.

Writing this record has been interesting. I haven't allowed myself to
finish anything I don't actually want to play. There have been ideas that to
listen to are killer, but don't move me when they sit under my hands.
Everything I have written will be unbelievably fun to play. Dela and Chad
have flown to NYC several times since December, and the times we've had in
my studio pulling all-nighters have been absolutely magical. Next week sees
me flying to LA to begin pre-production on the CD. I won't live a day
without working on something for this record literally until the CD is
complete. OK, not literally... I have the Bonnie Raitt show in Boston.

What else has been going on... That's pretty much it. Oh, I bought a cordless phone at Staples the other day and they forgot to put it in the bag with the 3 other extension phones, and when I went back a week or so later (I'm a busy guy!) nobody knew anything about it. I told them I spoke to Duane and that he said I could come in and pick my phone up, but
the manager on duty said she didn't feel "comfortable" giving me the phone. I had to walk through light rain and heavy protest to get to this Staples, and she's not comfortable giving me the phone. Okay, you're right. I'm a major label recording artist who's sold millions of CDs yet I don't feel
complete unless I try and scam phones from Staples on a Friday night. I wouldn't feel comfortable either. Guess I'll go try this flim-flam at Office Depot! I bet you're wondering what I did in this situation. I'll tell you what I did. I bought another phone right then and there. I'll call Duane and explain everything to him come Monday, I said to myself. Then when I got home, I got a loving slap from Lady Karma. There will be no calling of the manager. There will be no explanations of my being slighted and what I demand be done to satisfy me. One hundred seventy nine and point nine nine dollars should cover the cost of those roller ball pens I stole from Staples
in the 7th grade with generous accounting for interest. That was a glorious time, the 7th grade pen trade. A pilot v5 fine tip could get you 2.3 Faber-Castell mechanical pencils, when last I looked. Score zero zero. Life goes on.


I'm going to make a record, you stupid bastards!!!

Love

John