Yes, life works in mysterious ways.
Case in point.
I have been on the road this week with my friends from NYC, Spottiswoode & His Enemies. Under all accounts, great people to be touring with. Last night, after our gig in Ashland, VA, we headed out about an hour to our mutual friend Chris Keup's house/farm/studio outside of Charlottesville, VA.
Now, since I just moved this past weekend, painted and cleaned for three days, and am driving myself around on this tour, I awoke this morning with quite terrible back pain. Ok, par for the course. I'm not one to complain, but...
So I'm outside in the morning talking with their keyboardist Tony when all of a sudden this gigantic grasshopper slams up against the deck where we are standing, and the conversation that follows goes something like this...
Tony: "I don't like bugs."
Don: "I like bugs."
Moments later I am walking Chris property over to a horse barn they have. Fairly new it is, in fact. And I am sort of in a zen state about how cool this barn is overlooking this large fenced in field, noting to myself what a wonderfully peaceful place this is right here to do some writing/thinking, etc.
I no sooner finish this thought, when WHAM!!! I giant bee dives down and stings me hard on the back of my right shoulder. Damn, I think. Actually, I shout. That frickin' hurt! Now why would this bee have to break up my communal moment of zen, especially after my most recent comments of bug-love?!
As I pondered this irony, I suddenly became aware of something odd.
No more back pain.
Bugs are cool.