Seven months home and the rhythms of tour are as clear in my recollection as the food I ate 7 weeks ago tuesday and even if I mind-smunch my brain deep enough to retrace my steps, I could not possibly recall more than rudimentary guesses as the sensations and aromas have long ago drifted into oblivion. Where does my time go? And why do I let running around in daily circles sponge my life away into gas receipts. How is that important? Yet the desire to get there or here can seem so desirable and crucial and looking back all I see are tail lights and patches and broken things and a few smiles at the moments when I broke free of the pattern. Oh to look forward to a magnetic future that pulls happiness from the monotony. A single phone call holds the power to shift drudgery into closed-eye bliss or to obliterate euphoria into a slap-stinging reality of the past haunts I've created. Run away! but I wont as I have chosen to stay. I have stepped off the moving ship that allowed me to live in the disconnected reality of motion. Sir Isaac Newton, the falling apple on the head guy, once said "an object in motion will stay in motion till acted upon by an outside force and an object at rest is bored." Or something like that. Do we watch the movie or do we strive to be actors? Ooooh! The beauty of disconnected observation. And ooooh, the temptation of jumping into the limelight of celebrity attention. Each with their downfalls both so alluring depending on the moment. Claps and cheers for those who ramp up and are willing to crawl out of their defeats on the way to success. Boos and hisses for those that crawl shifty behind deception to force their greedy goals. Am I wrong to remember gas was $1.50 a gallon when "we" (in the soft and broad unfortunate form) elected that slurring annoyance? Ah, but is it so wrong that the spiraling bumblefuck around us is reinforcing we humans into getting our shit together and bumping up our minimization of crapping on the earth about us? Ah the "Barney Syndrome," the purple dinosaur so bent on happy-cheery and perfect it invigorates resentment in even the most kind hearted observer. A peon propped into power so bent on ass kissing his indebtedness away to the string-pullers that all he touches begins to decay, creates the Barney syndrome in reverse. Here we sit at a hopefully a zero crossing upward as the natural oscillation from dark to light, fight to fun and falling to climbing enters the next stage. Speaking of the cycles and competitions of life, check this out. I would like to say nothing makes me cry but I have spent too many plane flights with sunglasses on watching sappy movies to say that with any integrity, anyway, this video made me smile with watery eyes so I figured I would subject you 'all to it as well:

And out of the ramble and into midst lets go for a wander to see what we can find in the world of France. Meet Christian Heil, the big kahuna creator of the modern line-array sound system configuration. For those of you outside the audio realm and maybe some within, in the mid to late 90's a PA created by a French company called L' Acoustics began gaining considerable traction on large tours with a system called V-Dosc. Immediately all the major players in the speaker building industry started coming up with reasons the line-array systems do not work and are inferior. Then they realized that there profits were in jeopardy so they all copied it. Today, with only three manufacturers that I know of,