"I'm thinking of a dream I had."

"Maybe you're right."

I'm thinking of this song and its words, and how Simon interpreted them: "Sometimes, someone out there is worth it." I believe this, and as much as I craved and appreciate the stability of the Day Job, the best part of having one remains the luxury of coming home every night. ("On a bus back home to you.") I remember occasional fantasies about being in a band, and feel quite fortunate and grateful that I had the experience, but I am relieved to have made it through with a whole life ahead of me.

Sometimes I think it might be nice to take a business trip, perhaps once or twice a year. After all, it wasn't the leaving home that I hated
-- it was the being away from home for six months of the year (though I can't say I didn't have a lot of fun) -- and I kinda like staying in hotels every now and then.

It's funny how being in a band involves business trips of sorts; tours are often just as strategic as company excursions, if not always as organized. Really, we were like travelling salesmen, going from town to town, hoping to convince people that they needed our product in their lives. We peddled every night! We put everything on the line. At the end, if we did our job, we'd have people sold. If we were lucky, we'd have a little something to take home. (Unlike other businesses, these trips weren't primarily about financial profit, but we aimed to break even. Of course we were happy if we were able to pocket a bit of change as well!)

The product, obviously, was our merchandise -- the records and t-shirts we laid out on small tables at the back of the club -- but in a greater sense, the product was us. Our hearts were truly, literally, in it.

TRACK LISTING: The Walkmen, "Thinking of a Dream I Had"