Hey Jakey,

Your Nana and Papa have a place to stay until Sunday; there was a cancellation at the motel that they're at. That's a big relief. Also, Rita seems to have made a jog to the east, so the Corpus Christie area probably won't be hit as heinously as we at first thought. I don't wish a hurricane on anybody, J, but I'm certainly relieved that my parents may at least have a home to return to.

I can't imagine being in their motel room at this moment, though. Four big dogs, three cats and three adults. Ugh. They sounded much happier on the phone this morning. What a difference a few hours makes.

Cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon,
Little boy blue and the man in the moon.
When ya comin' home, Mom?
I don't know when, but we'll get together then, son.
You know we'll have a good time then.

Work was a joke today. First off, another three-hour meeting, then C and I scooted out to attend a live concert taping for local musician Luke Stevenson. He's making a DVD and releasing a single sometime this month.

What a change of pace from all the other shows I've been to recently. Luke is more in the vein of the "John Denver" stuff that your daddy accuses me of listening to. But he's warm and engaging, and quite talented. He performed a few original songs, and a bunch of "soft rock" classic covers, and it wasn't difficult to act excited and energetic for his camera crew. When he played "Cats in the Cradle," I teared up, thinking I should really be home with you instead of in a Hyatt banquet room, listening to Green Day covers rubbing elbows with James Taylor tunes. Sigh. He mines some of the same territory as another local Tahoe musician, who shall remain nameless, but does it with tons more panache and class. I wish him all good luck with his new single.

Afterwards, Cosmos and appies at the Lone Eagle. Then back to work to check my email and fart around for about 45 minutes, then home. All in all, not a bad day.

I usually don't much notice the age difference between C and myself. She's eight years younger than I am. Today, though, she made me feel like a frickin' dinosaur. She was writing a story on Luke's performance today, and every time he played a cover song, I supplied her with the song title and original performer. Harry Chapin, Don MacLean, Crosby Stills and Nash, Cat Stevens, Jim Croce, James Taylor. Not only did I know the titles and singers, I could sing along, word for word, to every one of them. I've got eight years up on her, of listening to AM radio and Kasey Casem when I was a kid. Or else she just prefers to listen to cooler and hipper music than me. Probably the latter.

Weekend's almost here, baby. Big one on tap this time around. We're taking you to the company picnic at Mills Park on Saturday, then hitting the Genoa Candy Dance on Sunday. If at all possible, I want to try and make it to the Emmylou Harris show Saturday night in Reno, but that probably won't pan out. So... rest up! Love you!