life is a carnivore...

"when you're on tour eating is the only thing
you can do that isn't immoral or illegal."
a. belew

if it seems that food and drink
rule our world of creativity
that's only because: they do!
eric and julie are vegetarians
(I'm more of an octogenarian)
but all of us appreciate the dining experience
perhaps a bit more than the average person because
so much of our lives revolve around 3 things:
traveling aka the work
dining aka the pleasure
and performing aka the reward.

musicians are forced to be social creatures.
the work we do (creating) is often a group effort.
the pleasure of breaking bread is all important to our bonds,
which may explain why food and in particular dinner
has always been so important to me personally.
many people have commented that I seem obsessed with it.

martha once discovered a letter
from my mother Louise
from a time when I was still an infant
in which my mother revealed
that I had actually been starved
for the first two weeks of my life.
evidently breast feeding didn't suit me
back then
so the doctor switched me to feeding formula
and I've been a happy boy ever since.

my family rarely, almost never, ate in restaurants.
in fact, the first time I tasted steak I was 27 years old!
when we did dine out it was at a little place in Covington, KY.

the Anchor Grill was a real treat,
a true slice of Americana.
the dining room walls were crimson red.
mounted on the walls were large stuffed fish,
swordfish and marlin covered in nets,
and there was a light ball which made
slow revolving rings of light float around the room.
in one corner of the room there was
a toy bandstand, about two feet wide.
it was enclosed in glass.
inside was what looked like a big band jazz band
with figurines playing instruments
while swaying from side to side.
each booth had a small jukebox,
(we always sat in a booth)
the kind with buttons with letters and numbers
and a full list of current (and not so-current) songs
like love letters in the sand and beyond the sea .
when you put money in the jukebox
the little band would start up,
when the song finished they'd magically stop.
my parents would feed me coins,
causing the little band to sway
and with the rings of light floating around
the crimson fish-covered walls...
I felt like I was in an underwater heaven.

the Anchor Grill still exists today,
a bit tattered and greasy
but the little bandstand still hangs in the corner.

starving for the first two weeks of life,
never having tasted steak until my late twenties,
these things could explain my dining obsession
but I prefer to think it's the lifestyle I've chosen.
since the Anchor Grill I've been fortunate
to eat some of the best and most varied food
from all parts the world.

and now to be served great delicious food each evening
by the bass player in my band seems full-circle-fitting.
I'm thinking of putting up some netting
and getting out the old disco ball...