While it was nice to have a life *offline* for a month, I’m now burdened by an overabundance of pent up frustrations and outrage that needs to be vented. The blogging will resume at its previous pace, and perhaps even exceed that. We can hope.

To catch up, the New York trip was fantastic, albeit it far too short. It’s an amazing city, and I barely scratched the to-do list I put together prior to the trip, meaning a return is one hundred percent necessary. Yokel that I am, I spent much of my time in the Big Apple with my head craned upwards, spewing bumpkin cliches like “Lookit all them tall, purty buildings,” bumping into annoyed New Yorkers and spending far too much money. I even took a giddy little thrill out of mastering the subway system and navigation of the city in my first day there, so by the end of the second I was able to meet up with some friends at a local watering hole, get half in the bag, stay out until bar time and then find my way home to Brooklyn from Manhattan ALL BY MYSELF.

Leave it to New York City to make you feel like an eight-year-old again.

I then went back to work for two days, only to fall victim to the dreaded H1-N1 flu and go down like a ton of bricks. The timing was worsened by the fact that I had promised the Portage Daily Register the first of what’s to become a regular column , which I did complete by deadline while under the influence of a 101.5-degree fever. You can go to the PDR’s website to read the column, and watch for it every month in the publication itself.

Since my brush with the flu, I’ve been working to kick the lingering cough and stay on top of my schedule. The band is practicing a lot in preparation for our first home turf show this Saturday at the High Noon Saloon in Madison, opening for the Shabelles. We would all love to see as many folks out there as can make it, and promise it will be a good time. If not, you can throw eggs at us. Honest to God. Eggs. Saturday, 6:30. Eggs will NOT be provided.