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Mary Lynn is my sister’s oldest daughter. She spent the first week of June with us. When she asked if she could drive up for a visit I said “sure, but I don’t think there will be much to do…” I was wrong. The first thing we did was play Golden Axe on my arcade machine. She was the Valkyrie, I was the Elf. After that we went in the backyard and she hung upside down on the monkey bars.The rest of the week we did the following:
–went to Mickey’s Surplus where she bought dog tags, a backpack, and a grappling hook
–hiked 2 and a half miles over and under Johnson County streets
–found shade under an old canopy tree
–stared at murals by the clocktower
–discovered a concrete “submarine” in a local park

Ronda Bond will be the 11th guest on an upcoming episode of THE EPILOGUE CABIN. After Chad’s show I reached out to former guests to see if they could suggest someone to be on the program, and Missy said “call Ronda!” So I did, and she said “ok.” Here’s a promo!

I was scrolling through instagram when I saw this post from from the retro pic people at gotweird. This yellowed image was originally printed in 16, a fan magazine for teenagers. Half of the people that commented on instagram said they would gladly kiss that poster from 1965. The other half couldn’t pony up the cash, and got sick at the thought of kissing “lips” on a germ infested smartphone.

Recently I started drawing faces that I see in my formica table. Herb and Mo Neck were the first two and they were easy to spot (I think). They even had little fictional histories. The third one that I’m posting is more of a challenge. I saw the Chainless Monocled Sneer Man With a Comb Over a few weeks ago when I looked at the table below……but now I can’t remember where he was… it’s as if he slipped back into a crowd of circus freaks, and every time I think I see his mouth or his eye it’s a different part of somebody else’s grotesque anatomy. If you see him on my table let me know… and if you see him on your table tell him to come back home.

The rain has been steadily falling all night and into the morning. I know at some point the chorus from my Winnie Pooh record is going to start singing “the rain rain rain came down down down…” Who am I kidding? They’ve already started singing it in my head. Time to save the honey!

Frozen in Time was the name of a geocache that we looked for yesterday. Jenny, me, Warren, and Andrew drove to DeSoto looking for this abandoned house that has a large geocache nearby. Warren parked his jeep by a railroad crossing and we walked on the tracks until we were 100 feet away from the house. There was a creek to cross and a lot of undergrowth to bushwhack through (the picture above was taken in February by another geocacher), so we agreed to come back another time and picked up 20 rail spikes on our way back to the jeep. It felt like we were in the movie Stand By Me.

Glenn Shipps wrote a beautiful song called Shelter In Place, and invited all of his musician friends to add something to it. I’m fortunate to be inside of this circle and sent him a harmonica track. Here’s a little bit of what that sounds like. This photo was taken a few years ago at a club house where Glenn & I jammed with Matt Hawkins, Dan Vogler, and his daughter Griffin.

My new favorite band is this guy and his three children. I can’t remember how I found Colt Clark and the Quarantine Kids, but the first time I watched them sing and play in their living room I couldn’t stop smiling. They have around 40 videos on their channel right now. The one I’ve posted here is Sweet Caroline originally by Neil Diamond. Another good one to watch is Hooked On a Feeling. I love seeing the kids go “oogah cha cha oogah oogah oogah cha cha…”

Back in high school Chad Emmert sat a few rows behind me in a class that bored us both. That’s about all we had in common, but I never really talked to him until we set up a sound system 35 years later for our class reunion. Chad is today’s guest on THE EPILOGUE CABIN.

When Hoovie called a couple of nights ago I didn’t know it was him. Sometimes my phone ID’s him as “Private Number,” and I don’t pick up. When that same technology displays a voicemail icon, I know my smartphone is trying to win me back, and atone for its error. Here’s Hoovie’s message.