Driving down the highway between tour stops and seeing everyone else on Tour driving with me, us vs. the rest of the traffic; that nervous energy that begins to build a couple months ahead of a show and reaches a sweetly unbearable fever pitch in the moments before They take the stage; that audible second-long moment of quiet in an indoor venue when the lights go down and everyone inhales at the same time in order to scream that scream we all know and love...

Knowing that a show is about to start because someone just brought out drinks on stage and set them in their proper places; waving at Kuroda at set-break and giving him a big ol' smile and thumbs up; watching Trey talk into the microphone-cup; the tattered mu-mu; the fight bell; the Trey moves (at least we still get to watch those); watching Carini pull people off the stage; the people who ALWAYS find it funny to go "moooo" in the mass of bodies leaving after the show--every show--you know who you are; ice-cold mountain dews just outside the gate...

Meeting new and old friends, almost every single day; that guy with the red hair that makes all those funny faces while he plays the poop out of his custom made guitar with a drawing of his late best friend on it (who is she? who is she?)... he stands next to that guy who sort of bears a resemblance to Russell Crowe and plays sick drums next to that other guy with the coolest Rock Star hair on the planet (if you ask me, he is THE Rock Star--no one else comes close) and who once practiced playing his bass in a large black cube suspended from the ceiling of his bedroom... he stands next to that conservative looking guy with a penchant for making really funky noises on his keyboards and some of the most beautiful melodies on his sleek Baby Grand Piano (we'll call that one Leo, for now)...

All the nick-names: Chairman of the Boards, Cactus, The Good Lieutenant, The Bad Lieutenant, Greezy Fizeek, Norton Charleton Heston, or Henrietta, sweet Henrietta; the head-bob and those hooded eye-lids, never budging from that trance-like stance you could recognize from a mile away (like mike, if i could be like mike); the golf cart near-misses; finding your buddy his extra ticket, dashing inside to meet your other friends about 15 seconds before They take the stage; that beautiful purple glow radiating from the stage and glinting off of the drum kit prior to the show and at set-break...

CALLS, CALLS, CALLS!! Opener? 2nd Set? Encore? What shirt is Trey gonna wear? Are we gonna get a Fishman tune? Is there a special guest in the house? We haven't gotten a Tube yet this tour, don't you think we're due? [at first i thought they'd go the Also Sprachs route for the Show # 1 P.H.(post hiatus) Opener, now i'm leaning towards a brief run down of "The Boys are Back in Town,"--and why not?]; when They are sooooo On, REALLY ON FIRE, and hitting some sick groove that makes you feel like you're soaring through the clouds or walking amongst the stars and you have that realization that there is no where else on Earth you'd rather be at that Moment than right where you are (i was checking out the SOAM from Big Cypress the other day for the first time in a while--omigod, go for a revisit at once)...

the thrill of spontaneity in a jam--you never know where it's going to go (well, that small space where my small voice lives sometimes knows, but not all the time); when they're playing that music that was once spoken of: "if hell had music, it'd sound like this" (read that somewhere, an attendant said it i think) and knowing that if i end up in a hell, at least the music will rock; being in a parking lot 1,000 miles from your house and feeling completely at home...

not being at a show and watching the clock at home all evening thinking "let's see. . they probably just took the stage... probably in the middle of a raging Antelope right now... probably Breaking Out Destiny right now... probably playing Taylor's Halley's right now... probably playing my Peaches or my Harpua right now... and then waiting on edge until the setlist was finally posted; picking the drive-in music a good 2 hours before time to go to the Lot, then changing it, then changing back; being the first one in line and the first one through the gate, only to walk inside and see that somehow about 25 Tapers are already in and setting up...

giving out the B&P and a tasty treat to one of those guys for spinning the show for me; the three cheers and the note in the middle of Divided Sky; my first YEM; Fish starting a Hood; early glowstick wars; the sound of those woodblocks at the beginning of Antelope; that special DWD riff that will always send chills up my spine; the Phunk, wherever and whenever it decided to show up; Keyboard Calvary; Forbin's Raps (until that one in Vegas--why did so many of us cheer at the announcement?); shouting "Hey!" during PYITE and then watching a brilliantly executed Landlady Shuffle...

playing rummy in the lawn before a show; pepe lepeu or deset patenent or one of the crew neck sweaters he was wearing at the end, the green or the red long-sleeve shirt and the rolled up jeans with high-tops, the baby-blue polo and khakis, the Italian suit (for a little while) or the colored circles and duct tape; the single wood block hit or "The Note" in YEM; vocal jams with CK5 on visuals; the whirling loop effect calling a Ghost to the stage; riding the high-hat to summon a Bowie; getting that long overdue Suzy that you thought would never come, and having it be a scorcher; "shirley temples"; Mule Duels; the samurai-sharp piano roll that gets a Chalkdust moving...

Character Zero closers (you know you'd kill for one right now); T. Marshal zaniness; any and all songs I ever took a break during (except maybe Jennifer Dances); waiting in line at the lame-ass water fountains to refill water bottles at Set-break; carrying a notepad and multiple pens inside, but not to draw or get phone numbers; having someone say, "you guys ready to go Inside?" and being able to respond with, "yeah, i wanna go get Low tonight, let's go ahead and go now," and having nods of agreement all around; travelling to the corners of the country to spend a few days with Phriends... 

having Page be the one to say "thanks, had a great time tonight" after the kind of Coil solo to end the 2nd Set that makes you cry like a baby and laugh like a loon in amazement of a man (a great man) who can weave melodies the way that one does; all the planning, the maps, the supplies, the lodging, the gear, the tickets, "Ticket check"--"check," "check," "check," "Aww man, wait a second, i'll be right back"---that's why they're done; hearing six-up calls; making six-up calls; watching the joy in someone's face when they get miracled...

getting my entire night's wish list-except for that one song; hearing the opening chords of Mike's and knowing that the next 20-30 minutes are probably going to blow me away (you gotta love the smoke machines); teases--small or little, confirmed or not--and the look on Ernest's face when he feels like he's slid a good one in; stopping boogeying for a moment to look around at my favorite people on Earth, my Phamily, laughing, crying, dancing, swaying, hugging, loving, breathing, leaping, all of us with Ignited Souls from that Contagious Silence, absolutely and positively alive without fear, shame, or self-consciousness, committed to being Human and Real and never ceasing in our Quest of LIVING THE MOMENT... 

all because of four guys, four guys who share their love, four guys who provide us with the framework within which we can stretch our wings to fly, four guys who rejoice with us in the good times, four guys who help us get through the bad times, four guys just like you or I, but with the willingness to open themselves to each other, and through that act, to us. Four guys who are currently ensuring that the Honesty between all of Us is able to endure the passage of time. 

Four guys that my Phriends, even those of you I don't know yet, and I refer to as -The Boys-. Our Boys. The Home Team. Page, Jon, Mike, Trey: I miss you guys. I miss what you create and what is created through you and around you and the acceptance involved therein. Not to mention that I currently have way too large of a gap of shows without a Mike's Groove. I think that if I have to see too many more of these stagnant funk-driven jam bands that never stretch out or explore but rather keep up the same groove all night long with little or no deviation, I might just go a little crazy. 

To those of you who just sniggered at the crazy comment: i actually am quite sane, i just want to see The Boys together again on stage, enabling me to dance to that fine, fine Music, you know MY life was saved by Rock and Roll. How about you, Phine Pholks? Yes? Good. Now... Ticket check? Check. Good. All set. So, how about that "Boys are Back in Town" Opener. Anyone?

I am...

- DonRob Robinson (donrobiii@hotmail.com)

Editor's Note: All I can say is that this story is a work of art... definitely threw my mind for a loop or two.