Jul 14, 2006

SEATTLE, Washington: A cold haunts my only week here this month. "Maybe it's typhoid," my buddies snipe. "You should have taken that last vaccine pill."

Not from the airplane toilet, no.

Continuing the unhelpfulness, they throw a party in my apartment, the night before I depart to Alaska. They ridicule my highly professional packing techniques and empty the wine cellar, yet somehow remind me why home is worthwhile.

Some I've known half my life now, others since our ripped-flannel years at university. One lives half a mile away, one in Melbourne, when not touring with the Foo Fighters (when he's lucky) and Yanni (when he's not).

When a roadie says you're traveling too much, well, it's time to listen, eh?

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