Three years ago my guts were twisted about whether to move to Kentucky with my girlfriend or stay in North Carolina with my bandmates in My Dear Ella. I left the band, joined my girlfriend (now my wife), and my life abruptly changed course, as it had numerous times before. I’ve stayed in touch with Eric (MDE mastermind and my closest friend) since my departure, and several times I’ve flirted with the idea of moving back to NC, at least for the nine to twelve months my wife will be doing her doctoral research in Mexico. Per the original game plan, my wife figured she’d be heading off to do her research in the fall of ’06, as in right now, but the vagaries of grad school have been such that things have been considerably delayed, so now we’re looking at next fall at the earliest.
So many twists and turns, and it turns out that Eric recently dissolved My Dear Ella and formed a new outfit, Death of the Sun [pictured above]. It also turns out that D.O.T.S. needs a bass player to complete their line-up so they can take the world by storm. Do I smell the intoxicating effluvium of destiny? Or is it just the same old clump of bull-poop I’ve been dragging around on my boot-heel for years?
I don’t know. Part of me would love to cast off the shackles of normalcy and step out on that thin limb again. Maybe this time things will be different. Maybe I’m ready for greatness. But then again, having been down this road before, I’m all too aware of the costs, the doubts, and the insidious pattern that compels me, every four years or so it seems, to jump whatever ship I’m on in favor of the S.S. Something Else.