What's a Super Bowl?

Yes ladies and gentleman, I’m in a foreign country all right. This time last year I was downing chicken wings and gulping draft beer on 33rd and 8th with birthday boy Tommy Merrill, eagerly awaiting each mind-blowing commercial. Now I’m writing you from a Starbucks in Queens Park, wearing a scarf and sipping espresso. Times have indeed changed. I know I’ve been bad at keeping in touch, please don’t think I’m one of those lousy boyfriends (even though, in truth, I am). This past month was a hectic one: finishing the record here in London, doing photo shoots, planning a music video, renting an apartment, err… flat, finding a band, and perfecting my Rockstar pout. From all accounts I have arrived. I walk into rehearsal rooms now to find my gear setup. A far cry from lugging 88 keys up 4 flights of stairs, stepping over sleeping derelicts along the way. Some things are the same. I feel as confused and bewildered as ever, maybe even more so. Crossing the street is a dangerous proposition here, pedestrian etiquette nonexistent. People constantly step on your heels in overcrowded bars. And I’ve seen enough asymmetrical haircuts to last a lifetime. Women are pretty much the same – moody, brooding, and way more interesting than men on the whole. But I’ve made mates here for sure, one of which is my fellow Friday night solider Miles Christie: suave Ear/Nose/and Throat man by day, voracious master of ceremonies by night. He’s a great companion to have in London, knows every pub, club, and hotspot like the hair on his chin. I keep telling him to start a series of travel books, setup a nightlife information booth or something. Rolling with Miles is like having a walking, talking copy of Time Out at your side. You should definitely look him up when you come to town, he’s well up for it. Am I having a good time you ask? I guess. It can be rough and lonely, but so can NYC. I’m starting to think I’d be rough and lonely wherever I am, even in friendly places like Pittsburgh, Philadelphia, and Indianapolis. Plus rough and lonely makes for good songs. God forbid I get settled and satisfied. What the hell would I have to look forward to then?