Dearest Dry Ink,

Flew first class into Santiago. A direct flight, very nice. Orange juice and Champagne and several glasses of Pinot Noir. I watched “Curb Your Enthusiasm” and ate a filet. The flight attendant fed me ice cream and fruit. Fell asleep to Femi Kuti.  More

Dear Dry Ink,

Years ago, when I met Paul, I never imagined I would live in a place like this…I hadn’t really even given any serious thought to the existence of Australia. It was out there, I knew, but it couldn’t matter to me.  More

Marlow kicked in the back door

and Mike had the beers

Pot smoke filled the air

and reggae was the beats  More

Dearest DryInk,

Winter is fine in the NYC. Although, the weather is not… I mean it is, but it’s not. 60 degrees in February feels good on the skin, but it just doesn’t seem quite correct. We’ve even begun our spring cleaning. Speaking of that, last weekend we cleaned out the office, getting rid of unwanted books and magazines, and the latest DryInk mix-CD was playing in the background. I dusted tables to Alicia Keys blaring in the background; I organized drawers to the Prowling Wolves. My neighbors banged on walls. They stamped on floors. They screamed, “Hey, turn down that racket.”  More

Dear Dry Ink,

I landed in Phoenix as the sun was setting. Hit the hotel for a quick shower then off to Trader Vic’s for rum drinks and laughter. Jumped in the rental car by 10 a.m. for a trip to Beverly Hills. Drove through the Mojave Desert and Joshua Tree National Park. U2, the Clash and the Rolling Stones played on the FM radio. Saw a bobcat tear apart a jack rabbit and a yucca night lizard battle with a sidewinder.  More

Dear Dry Ink,

Here’s my brief glimpse into my state of perpetual inebriation: What a ride so far. Opened for the Cramps in L.A. to a sea of people in the streets. Bled like a 9-11 stockbroker for that one.  More

Dearest Dry Ink and Friends,

We played a show on a cruise ship in New York City, sold out crowd and lots of young girls. Drank some Guinness and got a little sea sick.  More

Dear Dry Ink,

Beats were blaring and the gas tank was full, got to Memphis as it was getting dark, the town reeked of barbecue sauce,  More