the past is the present

This could be chicago, or this might be PVD circa 1997. The airport said O'Hare, but the presence of Simone Mikolich, Phil Eil, and Sasha Nelson (and the anticipated arrival of Sam Miner) make me question my own vision (and the Continental Stewardess's announcement that we had arrived in Chitown). So here we are in Wicker Park, drinking Sammy Adams' sweet beery concoctions with familiar faces in Simone's cozy apartment, sharing stories about the past and catching up on each others present lives. Tomorrow, we will rise earlier than we would like and head out towards the Badlands. It could be a 14 hour marathon (or we could fall into one of Minnesota's one million and five lakes). Whatever tomorrow holds, tonight we feast with the best sorts of friends: the ones who we've seen in headgear.