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

Ziggy and I didn’t have sex for like a week. This is significant because I felt I was holding out for something but I wasn’t sure what, and he was obviously holding back, too, because when have you ever known Ziggy not to make a move in an entire week? I think we were both waiting until we felt like it was safe to go back in the water.

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

That day we were scheduled to have the full band, every single one of them, for six hours, and Ziggy for three. I showed up maybe a half hour before noon, the rest of the band arrived and noon, and then I warmed them up with some blues.

Some of them were surprised. Some of them were not. It was the first time all of them were there at the same time and I thought, you know what? What they have to do is start appreciating each other and reading each other’s minds. There’s nothing like a bunch of improvisation to force people to pay attention to each other and rise to the occasion.

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

It was just me, Chris, and Courtney from the Allston house, and we picked up Bart in the van. Carynne and Bradley were getting back to the city on their own schedule–in fact maybe they’d already left a day or two earlier. I don’t remember. It was a Sunday night so there wasn’t much traffic and we grabbed dinner at the deli in Vernon.

Connecticut was long as usual despite the lack of traffic. I had some weird flashbacks in the van while we were on I-84. I thought about asking Chris, who was driving, if he remembered much about the partying we’d done while Nomad had passed through the area a few months before and then decided that was not the best topic for conversation. I didn’t want to seem to be callously disregarding his sobriety nor rubbing his face in it, by talking about how hard I’d hit the bottle that time. But something about that dark stretch of road reminded me of how far out on the edge I’d gone.

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

Ziggy and I went home and fell easily into bed. The only time in my life I’d had this much sex with this little effort or argument about it for this long was while I’d lived in Spain. Well, maybe right at the beginning with Jonathan, too, but as we all know, the easy part didn’t last.

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

(Have you checked out the fun rewards in the Kickstarter, yet? See more news below… -ctan)

Later that week Ziggy and Barrett and I met at Barrett’s office to go over some things. There was a new, very airbrushed, very difficult-to-ignore poster of Ziggy on the wall. He was wearing a white oversized jacket, his chest bare underneath, white jeans, and white boots, a microphone in one hand, his head turned to the side to sing into it but his arms in a “W,” thrusting his chest forward. Along the bottom were the South American tour dates.

“Horns?” Barrett asked, trying to bring my attention back to the discussion.

I had to move so I was sitting under the poster so I wouldn’t stare at it.

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

We slept in, had a late brunch at the little place Ziggy liked, did some shopping, met Bart and Chris for dinner, scrapped plans to go to another live musc show, and ended up at Limelight. Well no, actually, Limelight was just another stop on the way to Jordan’s loft once again, with about a dozen people I didn’t know.

I wasn’t completely sure I wanted to know them, either, after one guy said something about the guitar being passé, calling the electric guitar a quaint relic of the Elvis age. One of the others answered that the reason the electric guitar was so dated was because guitarists had been elevated to godlike status during the prog rock era but the golden calf had been tumbled down by punks who proved any idiot with three chords could play the damn thing and now no one cared about it.

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

(Another Saturday bonus post! Want to do it again? Click here to give. Thank you everyone for your support! -ctan)
—
After getting Bart and Chris’s suitcases settled at a hotel, we went over to the rehearsal space to check it out.

Sarah’s team had been using it before we moved in, but it still looked much more like an abandoned industrial building (which is what it had been) than like an arts complex. The floor was rough brick in a lot of areas including the big main room where an entire full size stage could be assembled including lights and everything. Right now there were a few road crates sitting off to one side, one lone piece of truss as long as a semi, and some empty cardboard boxes lying around in there and not much else.

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

Fanworks challenge submission #2, by Chris, featuring Daron/Ziggy/Colin. Delicious.

***

Daron usually tells our story. Yes, it’s our story, not just his. We’re all in this together, even when we’re physically apart. When Daron told his fantasy about a three way with Colin, I don’t expect that he thought I’d read it. Well I did. Guess what? I think we’ve all had thoughts about what a three way between Daron, Colin and me would be like. What surprised me most about Daron’s fantasy…besides how freakin’ hot it was, and that he actually talked (eh…wrote) about it… was that it was totally different from how I’ve thought about what it would be like to have them both. And believe me, I have thought about it. You can’t be stuck in a rolling sardine can for weeks at a time and not fantasize about the hot guys right there in your face.

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

Okay. Here’s something that happened in New York that wasn’t a meeting.

That night, after we’d eaten, and danced, and drank, and fucked, we were lying side by side in Ziggy’s living room bed, listening to the ambient rumble of wee-hours New York, and he said, “Couple of years ago?”

“Mh-hm?” I thought he was starting to ask a question.

He wasn’t.

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

The guys had not left town. They’d crashed at Jordan’s and Jordan was playing host, therefore we caught up with them at Limelight–Carynne included. Bart had clued her in to what we’d done and so she came down to put her head together with Jordan and me to figure out what the fuck to do with a record we weren’t expecting to make.

“It’s fucking brilliant,” I heard Jordan tell her. We didn’t actually talk with Jordan at Limelight, though, just celebrated.

I did tell her one thing, though, while we were lying side by side on a tuffet in the spacey trippy room when we got tired from dancing.