A brief conversation over text

Mark: Well as you probably guessed, I never made it outta Omagh tonight.

No joke, every time I made an attempt to leave something else crept up and dragged me back. Even after finally making it onto the outskirts of town, I got stuck in what seemed to be a never ending traffic jam that was stretched out for miles. I had to just turn back. It was like that scene in Truman show when he keeps trying to leave the island but can’t. Yessir. There was definitely some external forces (or maybe internal?) stopping me from leaving town today. There was a reason for it that I don’t fully understand yet. It’ll all make sense some day. Anyway. Hope your show went swimmingly swell. It woulda been great to hang and see you play, and jump up and jam for one or two. But hey, I’ll see you in a couple weeks, when the heavens allow.

Howe Gelb: All true and understandable. I’ve been there. Some day I’ll tell ya bout the time Matt asked me to join him in Phoenix opening for what’s-her-name. And I couldn’t get outa town. Hilarious! As for the gig tonight, the crowd won us over and were with us every step of the way. What a relief. You could feel the crowd ‘getting’ every nuance. That always surprises me. And cheer like we were a football team. That’s always very fun. And as a result we played better. Ireland is the best. Now it’s time to go get some Guinness in us!

Mark: Enjoy the pints. Wish I was there. But perhaps best I’m not, as I’m still not right after the other night in Belfast. Stringing a simple sentence together is a struggle. I wouldn’t be much use in way of conversation. We can make up for it when I see you in a couple weeks.

By which point I’ll have already been to New York for the shows with Matt. Then I fly back into Dublin on the day of our films next screening, so I’ll be a little lagged and disorientated. And Geoff arrives shortly after that to begin the horror. Then, uh oh, it’ll be Christmas!

Howe Gelb: Yes. No time for rest. Because right after that you better be ready for traipsing through the desert on a tour of cantinas. So pack your bags mister. Giddyup. This party ain’t over yet.