Trust the Driver

everybody knows what we're looking for. take us there.

Ever Been to Darby?

a while back we were driving up the Bitterroot Valley of Montana, on the run from, or maybe, for a change, chasing after a who or a what that by now I can't place.

Bob gazed away, up into the mountains. "They'll never hear it the way we did, Stevie," and I wondered what he had heard, and wished he'd keep his eyes on the road or switch with someone.

Practice at Powers Ave

Something's wrong with Bob's leg.










The Fiddliste in a Dentyne moment.
















The Drummiste--faster than the speed of light or at least the light setting.