into the great unknown

Is hasn't been easy. I've thought about what to say, what to write, how to describe the feeling that MW will being reaching its tenth year. Goddamn that's a fucking crazy milestone. I have to say I've worried about this because every year it just seems to get better. Maybe why I've been so quiet. I marvel how the experiences has been refined, and streamlined. From cups to sixtels. Golf to guns. Plates to buns. From inside to out. But how could it be better? What could top what happend previously. But, it's mid-March. A month and a half out. And my heart begins to race and my hands shake in anticipation. I want nothing more than to smell the smoke and the herb and wipe the pork grease from my lips with my sleeve. I want to feel the burn of the whiskey and hear the shotguns ring in my ears. I want the rain to come followed by sun, followed by clouds, followed by sun. I want my breath to be stolen by the frigid waters. I want my fingers to bleed on my guitar strings. And suddenly I know that all will work itself out. PS. Anyone know if Kurt will make it this year?