That was a fucken nightmare. You know, your website goes down and you expect the problem to fix itself within an hour or two like it usually does and the next thing you know seven weeks have gone by and it’s still down. Meanwhile there’s a woman holding your mailing list and website information hostage and she’s changed all her phone numbers, she’s dyed her hair a different color, she’s making a dash for the border …
Getting Guster Dot Com back online and operational required some pretty outlandish maneuvering, and one would be naive to think that recent natural disasters in Asia, suspicious resignations in the White House, and the extraordinary size of our guest list at the Fillmore in SF are not all somehow tied in.
It appears a few things have changed since I last contributed something to this diary.
1.) You now have to pay for Napster? Oh well, nevermind my last entry.
2.) There’s some photo at the top of every road journal? Featuring my ass? Loyal readers have already seen that thing in the flesh. They don’t need it hovering above each and every entry.
3.) The Gusters have written a batch of new songs. Most are in a mangled state, missing choruses here and there, needing some divine intervention to give us a clue how to translate it live, etc… we should have a few in working condition by the time our spring tour rolls around.
For those of you who have been awaiting a progress report on my ant farm, only four of the original fifteen are still alive. The rest died, and have been neatly stacked in a corner by the living ones, who seem to enjoy spending their days schlepping the corpses around on their backs. It is all quite depressing. I will take a picture of the stack of dead ones and try to upload it with my next entry. It is good to be back. Thanks for your patience, everyone.