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Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.
Remo and I were still sitting on the couch backstage in comfortable silence when Digger came in.
He had a piece of curled-up paper in his hands. “Feast your eyes on this.” He handed it to me–that soft, strange paper that came out of fax machines, smudged black on the edges where he’d held it. At the top was the BNC logo and then a long list of dates and cities.
“Are these all shed and festival dates?” I asked. There had to be thirty five cities, at least.