DK, Sandi, Jer, and Brock ~ the early birds. 

Post-mimosa lounging before the concert started. 

Stern Grove...sorry, Lucinda!

Thinking. Consideration. Strategizing. Calculation. Self-Reliance. This should really come a bit easier. Last night, I was at the second worst bar in San Francisco, called Butter. Having exhausted all social outlets at Mezzanine during the Moving Units / Film School show, I took Jer up on his invite to a friend of a friends birthday party at Butter. In indie-rock havens, even with its manufactured sloppiness and posturing, I feel a hell of a lot more at home than in Spring Break-reincarnate factories like Butter, which have kept the manufacturing of beer bongs and roofies a profitable line of business. Outgoing and gregarious are adjectives I don't necessarily include in my Friendster "about me" section. But I didn't have a fucking clue how to act in that joint. And in the ascent through Maslow's H of N's, I found that examining my total discomfort in a place like Butter should not really be considered.

On the other hand, I was absolute chatty-cathy at Stern Grove last weekend! The thread of determinism which led to a Court & Spark show followed by a long night at a house party in the Mission, alternately kept me fatigued Saturday night, which was perfect for getting out to the Lucinda Williams show early on Sunday morning. Six blankets, five bottles of wine, three hunks of cheese, and LOTS of friends elevated a normal hangover recovery day to one of the best days I've had since moving to San Francisco. I felt bad for not giving Lucinda my full attention, but it was futile to even try. Too many things to talk about!

Andrew and Chris at the reception. This was the first time the three of us had hung out together in nearly seven years! 

Best Man's Toast - Laura's Matron of (dis)Honor, Laura, Shawn, and Eric at the reception. (The weird colors are due to my complete inability to take indoor photos with backlight...) 

Laura & Shawn's Wedding

The flight from Florida back to San Francisco was one I'd planned on sleeping through completely. With only four hours of sleep under my belt, and a belly full of beer from the previous evening's excesses, I was quite surprised by my utter inability to slumber. But my new acquaintance, Tom, had injected some words of wisdom into my head the evening before. Tom was a road manager for Whiskeytown back in the day, and currently tour manages Train. He used to be in this old-school NC punk band The ANTiSEEN. Some kid had come up to him after a show and asked, "How can I do what you do?" To this, Tom answered, "I can tell you, but you're not going to like it. You are going to have to wake up in the morning and start thinking about what you want and how you can get there. Then, you have to work on that all morning, noon, and night. Then, at night, go to bed, and think about it some more. The next day, repeat. That's going to happen for two years. Then, tell me where you are." Advice is something I usually discard with little consideration. But Tom barely spoke at dinner, and it struck me that he was as full on intention as anyone I'd met. Thus, his word resonated with me the entire way home.

The wedding was a gorgeous indie-rock fairy tale. The ceremony took place outdoors under a huge oak tree. Laura arrived in a horse-drawn carriage, and followed two little rose bearers to the alter. Lacking my glasses, I couldn't really see Shawn's expression, but I'll bet he was beaming. After the first prayers, Rosie Thomas sang October. More prayers and ceremony-speak, then Sam Beam of Iron & Wine sang Naked As We Came. It was one of the single most beautiful scenes I've ever seen in my life. My friend Andrew Paynter got a two-shot of Laura & Shawn standing, smiling together, looking on as Sam was singing the song to them. Unbelievable. The ceremony ended with their vows, and everyone pressed on to the reception.

But it was the late-night at the Topaz Motel pool that was the most fun. All of the old-school Mammoth Records peeps, bunch of Shawn's Sub Pop friends and colleagues, Chapel Hill friends, Laura's family, Rosie, Shawn's best men Blake & Eric Bachman (Crooked Fingers, Archers of Loaf), Sam, Laura, and Shawn. Such a stew. Listening to what everyone was doing now was intriguing. There were Chapel Hill indie-rockers who were now doctors. There were record label folks who now owned restaurants or sold real estate or were librarians. It made me ponder my own situation at length. Mostly, I feel like it re-aligned me with feelings that had been stirring inside for a long while. And the long talk with Andrew and Tom did a lot to bring those feelings to light.