Small room. Lots of front tucks. Lots if Castro hats. Teenie boppin’ disco queens. Lonely 30 year old guys at the bar. 2 wanna be opening acts. Weird smells. First dates. Last dates. Super Christians. Agnostics. The PRD. Corona. Feedback. Lots of O.C. Rookie bartender. Fear in his eyes. Sad bartender. Happy college kids. Hurting feet. Tyrone.
The wait was worth it. He made sloppy guitar sound sweet. He was on tonight. I bought some unheard of Worship album he did a while back. It is very…well… not what I listen to. I tried to listen with an open mind. I only made it through song 3 before I got home. Thats because I listened to track 3, 5 times. It was on. His fiancee sings on it. She has a nice voice. But you just shouldn’t mess with a good thing. Tyrone Wells needs no harmonies. I’ll listen to the rest tomorrow.
Cha and I had dinner at Johnny Carinos. It was nice. She went home before the show. Her days have been long and she has another cooking class to teach this Saturday. This means one thing. Saturday night I get to get my grub on.
Listening to good music always makes me want to write. So on the way home I called my office voicemail like 7 times trying to capture this idea I am sure I ripped off some melody tonight. But it sounded good. Any Tyrone fans out there? Let me know.

Dreamin’ Like New York.
Los