Hello everyone, everywhere,

This week has been kind of funny. I’ve been looking good, dressing well, and I found out I was pretty healthy. (I love my doctor). But that’s not helping me right now. Because I’m so banged up, I finally got approved for medical marijuana. That’s been great except that between all the screw ups, I won’t get anything for a week. That is not working for me. But Michelle says to keep an open mind. Luckily my friends have tried their best to keep me going.

I’m not telling everyone to use pot–that’s not what I’m talking about. What I’m talking about is the fact that I have so many crippling disabilities, and this stuff is a bloody miracle. It works, and thank god it’s finally legal in Alberta. (But I wouldn’t care either way).

The rules are strange to me, but I guess I have to adapt. My only goal is to  keep my hands moving and get healthy enough so that I can keep playing and writing. Though the pain constantly rages through my body, it seems to affect my left hand and arm the worst. The battle never ends, but it doesn’t know how strong I am. That’s it.

And now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts, if only for a moment…and rest.



Naked, vulnerable, confident, strong…and scared to death–Sam found himself in a flurry of emotions. He was all dressed for the show. He looked at the people who were entering the building and finding seats–heavy murmurs,  great expectations. His eyes closed as he visualized what was to come.

Sam wondered how he got in this position of constant stress. Damn, that’s the manager’s job–I mean that’s what they do, right? He knew what he had to do–he could fool himself into buying into anything. But the crowd always made him wrestle with indecision…and truth.

Sam and the rest of the band came to terms with a look and a nod. They couldn’t lay this one on the crew. It was all them. No turning back, only forward. Face the night, hit the lights, and play your ass off on such a day as this.

That’s all.


By jamesghutcheson

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