The Politics of Dancing

[ceciliatan]

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

I was neither worried nor upset by the fact that Ziggy was nowhere to be found when we left the hotel. Digger and Carynne were both around, and managing him was their job now.

As it turned out he was sitting on the loading dock of the music hall when we pulled up, holding hands with Susan Walsh, who looked much more comfortable in a UC-Berkeley sweatshirt and jeans than she had yesterday. The crew and gear had arrived some hours ago and I walked onto the stage to find my rig already set up and Colin half asleep backstage with his Walkman on. He opened his eyes when I tapped him on the shoulder and quickly hit the stop button.

“Hey,” he said opening his eyes wide like they were yawning.

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