Snow Station No Duh

I'll spare you the gory details, but winter's here and any reprieve is just a tease, a false reality if you will.

The big news about town is I busted ass this morning on the black ice that coats everything when it snows, freezes, melts, freezes, melts, freezes, melts....you get the idea. The real bummer was that, true to Murphy's Law, I landed on the exact same spot that I did back in August when I broke a rib - same spot, same pain...laying on the ground, vision blurred, focused on nothing but the intense and nauseating pain that occupies and overflows your entire world at that moment. Oh, yes, and trying to catch your breath.

This black ice...not to be confused with Black Ice. or Black Ice, or Black Ice...and its probably a toss up between falling like I did and getting run over by Black Ice.

Ok..enough of that.

Last night we went to see Maceo Parker at Suede.

Full of hints to his James Brown days, it was a semi-sad scene...these performers, full of life, talent, and energy, playing for a whitebread Utah crowd doing the white people chicken dance. For once I missed the days of Jazz Fest in New Orleans, even though I would still be the white bread common denominator just the same. We forgot to go to Fiona Apple on Wed, but won't forget Cut Chemist on Saturday or Del the Funky Homosapien next week.

What's the most disappointing is a) people still smoke and b) we let them smoke around other people.

For any of your Pro Tour riders who might be reading, if you're going to SATX next week, hit me up as I have some insider information for you.