when the rain washes you clean, you'll know

africa and karma police are to howie day as:

(a) thunder only happens when it's raining and will you still love me tomorrow are to tom conlon,
(b) annie's song and la isla bonita are to jon rodgers,
(c) all of the above.

what is it with these adorable musicians and their bizarre choices of covers? I'm not quite sure, but I'm lovin every minute of it.

tonight found me sleepless and starry eyed from the beginning. after a one shot tall and a great meeting, I rushed off to the space on steve's recommendation that I check out tom conlon. walking in at the end of opener number three (did I mention kristin not going to bonnarroo?), I frown at the ten dollar cover. hmm... oh, that's right! I don't have anything to lose. I fork it over and claim my seat, front row stage right.

it's the end of the first song and my jaw is slack. another moment of being tuned in so perfectly, I should have known - the first thing he did was take off his boots and the second thing I did was move from my chair to the floor. I'm cross-legged and back in the land of bumper stickers, mailing lists, back stage passes and combat boots.

the next two hours are brilliant, with a few religious undertones but put so universally you don't even notice. a song about a cousin who legally changed his name three times, then a story about sadness and hiding out for a whole year. and in the midst of all of it, moments of covers so perfectly chosen like they fit there all along and just needed to be spoken aloud.

after the show I waited patiently, not wanting to go without giving thanks. I wander up to the merch table, sign the mailing list, and notice a sign next to the cds:

there is no set price, what you can afford is what they are worth.

I pick up a cd and throw in a twenty. today has already yielded a fifty dollar piercing (plus tip), a two dollar brownie, and a ten dollar cover. I'm fucked anyways, like when you're trying to sleep before an important day and it starts hitting four, and then five, and then why don't I just stay up? there's no point in napping.

back to tom - I'm so tongue-tied in these moments, I only get a few sentences and forty five seconds at best without breaking into stutters and sweaty armpits. I manage:

hey everything tonight was perfect and I haven't been sleeping because I've been writing alot and it couldn't have been any better or any more perfect and thank you, please just keep making things

and with that I threw my arms around him, and ran away. to messages from kristin and threeimaginarygirls and hey, I pierced myself today and mexico is coming and maybe I'll get to see charlie post and frames and more writing and photo gallery and...

wow. keane on saturday night live. good for them.