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I am thankful for The Chicks

Today is not the best.

I’m down. I’m battered. It’s hot as fuck and I’m tired of not having plans.

Truly, that’s one of the big takeaways from COVID-19 life: I miss plans. I miss seeing people. I miss going to a pizza joint and sitting down with two slices and an icy Coca-Cola. I miss the gym. I miss coffee shops (God, I really miss coffee shops). I’m not an introvert, which is weird because writing books is an introvert’s life. But, well, I’m not. I’m a guy who feeds off of others; who longs for engagement and energy and vibe.

I digress.

About 45 minutes ago I turned to The Chicks’ new album, “Gaslighter.” And fuck, it’s so good. Just rich and deep and angry and compassionate. The voices are beautiful, the harmonies magnificent. It may well wind up alongside my five or six all-time favorite albums. And, in a way, it’s saving me from a complete meltdown.

So, hey.

Thanks, Chicks. I needed you.

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