Closing Time

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To quote the band, Semisonic, “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.”

There is something really surreal about closing time at a bar, especially when you just finished playing a gig. The place is clearing out. The staff is cleaning up. Usually, you hang out with you friends and fellow musicians for a few minutes talking about music and equipment, delaying the inevitable load-out that we all dread so much.

Legendary Houston guitarist Terry Green, loaded with Buddha-like wisdom, once said to me about the horrors of loading out of a club after 2am, “I think of it like having sex and agreeing to sleep on the wet spot. Sure, it’s uncomfortable, but at least you had sex.”

As we were loading out tonight, we made our way through the usual maze of people hanging out by the door, not quite ready to go home but kicked out of the club. George (my singer) and I were loading one of my cabinets into my truck and a guy turning the corner yelled out of his car, “You are all going to HELL!!!” Ok. Thanks.

Then, Chris calls me to tell me about the conversation he just had with some “white guys in a Mustang listening to rap music.” He pulls up next to them and the conversation goes like this:

Chris: What’s up?
Guy in Car: What’s up, pa’dnah.
Chris: Ya’ll are so gansta.
Guy in Car: Fuck you!

Chris just laughed as he drove off.

Something so surreal about 2:30am on a weekend after a gig. I’m glad to be home.

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