Society of Broken Souls

I want to talk about Lady Gaga. I also want to talk about my first piano teacher. And I want to talk about how those two seemingly disparate personalities are connected. 

First off, I love Lady Gaga. If the truth…

We met a man by the name of Lucky during a show in Mississippi on this past tour. He introduced himself as we were loading into the venue by showing me a guitar pick and saying “I’m in the club…

We’re heading south on route 45 in Mississippi, on our way to New Orleans, and I’m writing this post from the passenger seat of the Rialta. We have four shows under our belt, four more left on this tour of…

I’m not sure how to begin this missive. I have no anecdotal approach to start this conversation. I only have this cold and painful truth. Last week, I learned that someone I was once very close to took her own…

It's a cold, raw day in one of the most bizarre winters we’ve seen in a long time — temperature swings of 70 degrees, snow, ice, rain, and everything in between — and I’m tossing the logs Dennis has recently…

Connection: “a source of supply for goods, materials, etc., that is scarce, difficult, or illegal to obtain.” And, of course, (slang): “a person who sells drugs directly to addicts.” 

Of the many definitions offered by dictionary.com, those were the two…

The last time I showed up on the blog was in December, 2017. Over a year ago. The title of that blog post was “What a Year It’s Been” and boy, we had no idea what we were in for…

At this very moment, I reside on the edge of anxiety and acceptance, a familiar crossroad of a recognizable and well-worn route and the proverbial path less chosen. While there are challenges to be faced in any career, the peculiarities…

The year is winding down and while our calendar appears to be rather calm, things are anything but that here at Society of Broken Souls headquarters. That saying about no rest for the weary or the wicked? Feels pretty appropriate…

Shit is breaking down — in our 22 year old RV, in my ability to deal with the challenges of traveling in a 22 year old RV, in Dennis’s patience with his wife’s inability to deal with the challenges of…

We are parked at soggy, muddy campground just outside of Eureka Springs, our first day off in what feels like many, many moons. It’s spring in the Ozarks — which apparently means cool temperatures and a good healthy mountain wind…

It’s 11:03 pm on Monday, January 16th. Martin Luther King Day. I type these thoughts of gratitude, counting my blessings, amazed at my good fortune — all the while with a bruised and battered rib cage, a brutally stiff back…