Category: update

  • Rochefort Festival Wrap Up – 2

    Music

    The invitation to this festival came almost exactly two years after my last festival experience, Zappanale 20.  I came back from Zappanale 20 drained, disgusted, disillusioned, and thinking that I was done playing covers of Zappa.  When I returned from Zappanale I received the invitation to play bass in Mayhem Circus Electric, and that has defined my playing for the past two years.  These past two years were among the most fulfilling, if not the most productive, I have had as a musician.  Working with MCE and the other New Haven Improvisors Collective events gives me the opportunity to play the way I like to play (instinctively), with people I like to play with.  It is also notable that the last time I played any of the music of Captain Beefheart was the last gig I played with Doctor Dark… at Zappanale 16 in 2005!  In that context the invite to play Rochefort, which came via Zappa frontman Napoleon Murphy Brock, and was pitched as me playing Beefheart music, was in one way a large step backward.  But I also know that I value the connections I made through Zappanale, and still deeply love the music of both Zappa and Van Vliet.

    So that is the framework of the “grand bargain” that keeps cropping up with me and festival performances.  My hope is that gigs like Rochefort lead me toward opportunities to play experimental, improvisational, and world-style music.  Meanwhile, when I get an opportunity that involves playing “inside the lines” in the way that this one did, I just put my nose to the grindstone and do my best.  I *can* play this way, it is just that I don’t play this way naturally.  And no mistake, the gigs I was asked to participate in at Rochefort were very inside the lines affairs.  I thought I was doing one set of Beefheart music, with a few tunes involving Napoleon… uh, no.  The Rochefort gig turned out to be a complete set with Napoleon, and no hacking the corners off the music there.  Play the piece correctly, and play it well as an ensemble.  Then came participating in a Beefheart tribute with ex-Magic Band members.  Beefheart music is hard to play correctly.  Even though it sounds improvised it is not, and the parts are very specific.  I think that I have some very good bass parts for Beefheart music, but they are not exact to the reference recordings.  Next, Moris Tepper wanted his bass parts played very tightly, and that would have involved me reading chord charts, which he didn’t want me to (but happened anyway, just not by me).  Oddly, the closest thing to carte blanche was given to me by blues guitarist Innes Sibun.  I had never heard of him before, but now I have and am thankful for that opportunity.  In a way it was just slinging blues shuffles and Hendrix tunes.  But I was also able to work with timing and dynamics and feel and all the things that I can do when not replicating someone else’s bass parts. The blues shall set you free!

    Napoleon was a real pleasure to work with.

    Napoleon, holding court at Louatre

    He and I are very different, and in the past I have not been able to square-up that difference.  I met him for the first time at a Paul Green School/Doctor Dark gig at the Knitting Factory NYC back in 2004.  After that I met him when we were at Zappanale, or he was on the road with project/object.  The main difference I feel is that Napoleon takes himself very seriously, and has no self deprecation at all.  That is rare, and maybe so rare that I did not know how to interface with it.  I have had some time to reflect on what he does, who he is, and how he works.  He is a professional and a showman.  There is no shoegazing, ennui, or artifice.  What you see is who he is.  Very serious, very consistent, very funny, very giving, and in a way very patient.  Being able to work directly with him, as part of the challenge of bonding with new bandmates, and playing some music I have never played before, was just amazing.  The core of the band was Charly Doll, Nicolas Mignot, and Benoit Moerlen from the band Peach Noise (among other credits).  Suffice it to say that they are all top-shelf players, hard working to the brink of mania, and I can now count them as my friends.  Working with that unit was pure pleasure.

    The Beefheart tribute was a different story, but not a bad one.

    Eric Drew Feldman chats with Charly Doll, Rochefort, France

    Eric Drew Feldman ended up playing a lot of the bass parts on keyboard, and in the end the Magic Band alums did a lot of the heavy lifting.  I played bass on a few things and was more than happy to let Eric take the bass chair.  In the end the huge setlist of over 24 songs never materialized, and the setlist was being cut down on the side stage before the hommage/finale. I got to watch Eric play the bass solo “Hair Pie” to open the hommage set, and damn did it send shivers down my spine.  It was a real honor to watch him work.  Same with Moris.  I believe that the Beefheart tribute was a triumph, and the credit goes foremost to Eric and Moris for making sure the pieces were done in the form and spirit that was intended.

    Innes Sibun was one of the nicest people I have played with, maybe ever.

    Innes, Jamming at the Clos, Rochefort, France

    He is also a real-deal guitar strangler and Rory Gallagher freak!  I think back to that Rory album I got out of the cut-out bin back in the late 70’s and this encounter takes on a deeper significance.  I love the blues, and love playing it and immersing myself in it.  At Rochefort we made a 4-piece with Bruno Bertrand on drums and Or Solomon on keys. That was a pretty rockin combo, and it seemed that Innes was pleasantly surprised that his mutant “pickup band” worked so well together.  Bruno and I got on great, and the same with Or.  At our first gig at the Corderie park Innes created a “secret word” moment by blurting out “Giggity”, in reference to Glenn Quagmire from the show Family Guy.  That led to a running joke and a lot of unintentional hilarity.  WOOT!

    Moris Tepper was the wild card for me.

    Moris at Louatre, France

    He had contacted me early and asked me to play bass with him.  He sent me MP3’s and my impression from our conversations was “get the feel right, don’t worry so much about the notes”, but the more I listened and played along to his songs the more I knew that this wasn’t a person who was going to let anyone freelance on his material.  So I worked my ass off, but what I should have done is asked for charts.  I believe that on Moris’ side of the table he wishes he had just delivered charts along with the MP3’s.  On a personal level we got along fine, and shared some really fine moments together.  Musically what he wanted was so far outside of my comfort zone that I had to scramble, the stress got a bit much, and a compromise was reached.  French bass/guitar player Jeff (name soon) played on most of the set.  I played three songs that has 2-bass-2-drum arrangements.

    Moris’ set was, I believe, one of the most ambitious at Rochefort.  He had Rob Laufer with him, writing horn arrangements, playing drums, directing sidemen, and even writing out a few chord charts for me.  That ambition, combined with the lack of rigid rehearsal scheduling, shifting priorities, and some tricky set changes, made it a very gripping experience.  My feeling is: I could have played his set and done it well, but there would have been compromises on my need for charts, and to a lesser degree on intonation.  Fretless bass is cruel mistress, and if you need super strong fundamental pitches and are used to keyboards and fretted Fender bass, then fretless will always come up short.  And not being the best (I have good pitch, not perfect) I was never going to nail it the way he wanted it.  Moris wasn’t willing to make those compromises in rehearsal, but IMO ended up with a compromised live performance.  Still, the audience dug what he did, and I got to be part of a really cool set by an artist I now have a deep respect for.

    Moris, on the Main Stage, Rochefort en Accords festival

    For the festival program in general: In hindsight it would have been better if I knew what pieces I was playing, and could practice them without working on a load of extra pieces that I never got to play live.  As it was I busted my ass learning a lot of material that I never got to play and as a result I was spread a bit thin.  I also never got to see a few of the sights around the town of Rochefort that I wanted to see.  That is in hindsight.  In the moment I was having a ton of fun and would not have changed anything.

  • Rochefort Festival Wrap-Up 1

    This is the first in what I believe will be a string of blog posts where I will try to make sense of what the past ten days have involved.  I think it it is fair to say that the intent is for me to make some kind of concrete statement, but I don’t think I can make anything like a final statement.  A big part of this experience was taking the lessons I learned from festivals like Zappanale, and applying them. My feeling right now is that I succeeded, and maybe learned some new lessons that will serve me going forward.

    The deal with Rochefort en Accords is that the intentions are very ambitious, and I believe are meant to stimulate both the artists and the audience with unexpected results.  In some cases that is exactly what happened.  You had a mixing of styles and voices and something new emerged.  In other cases there were artists who basically recruited sidemen to replicate the parts they had already either played, written, recorded, or all three.  That is more about the festival promoter not being in the business of artistic enforcement.  This is a fact, not a criticism: the organizational aspects of this year’s festival did not match the ambition, but everyone found a way to get work done.  As I blog along I will, most likely, name names and relate observations of various degrees of success that I witnessed.  Regardless, what I witnessed was an astounding effort by the promotion team, volunteers, musicians, photographers and stage crew, and I can’t leave out the kitchen staff!

    What I write in the following posts is my immediate impression, and subject to review.  I am starting out topically, and perhaps moving into specifics as I feel they are appropriate.

  • napi w/ pianeta talento



    napi w/ pianeta talento, originally uploaded by petebrunelli.

    A photo of Napoleon from the incredible Pianeta Talento performance at Zappanale 18

  • Roy



    Roy, originally uploaded by petebrunelli.

    Roy Estrada performing with Grande Mothers at Zappanale 20

  • One Small Detail (Part 2)

    First, a small disclaimer: people are complex creatures and sometimes good people do bad things, and bad people do good things, and it is a fucked up crazy experience.  I have done shit that I am mortified of, but that was a long time ago and I feel like it was part of growing past adolescence…  I believe that we all, or most of us, hope that our actions remain “right”.  Shit does, often, happen.  I also know that there is a wide range of tolerance levels between people.  I am sure that people will judge Roy Estrada harshly, and I have done my share of that as well.  I can’t reconcile this with the person I met, and maybe he can’t either:

    About a month ago I saw a post on Zappateers.com about Roy Estrada being in jail, with a link to an inmate record.  It looked like the real deal.  It turns out that it IS the real deal.  Also, it seems that Roy has had problems of this kind before.  I don’t know what he did, to whom, and how accurate the info is, and he will have his day in court.  If it is what it seems to be then I hope he has a chance (another chance) to get help and maybe make amends.

    The upshot is that Roy was supposed to play bass at the Rochefort festival.  I got the call because I am familiar with the music of Captain Beefheart, and I have performed some of the music on the festival program, and I lucked out by being in the right person’s rolodex.

    There was quite a bit of drama involving the airline reservations and ticket, and salvaging that and getting me a flight out of the northeast US.  As of today that has all been worked out, and I am on track to be part of this very interesting festival.  From this point onward my goal is to keep the blog on topic as to the content of the Beefheart tribute and my experiences related to it.  Here’s to hoping that the drama is kept to a minimum!

  • France, Here I come… (Part 1)

    About two weeks ago I received a very odd email from percussionist Christopher Garcia.  It was entirely in the subject line and was asking for my phone number, because he had a gig I might be interested in.  My first thought was that Chris had sent it to me by mistake, and I replied to him, telling him as much.  But no!  It was legit, so I sent him my contact info and that began a very surprising chapter in the life of “Pete Brunelli, International Rock Star”

    I met Christopher back around 2007 at a DeManIa gig in Natick, MA.  That group is Alex DeGrassi, Michael Manring, and Chris.  I’m a fan of Manring, and IMO, DeManIa is the best thing I have heard from DeGrassi.  I am the kind of bass player who really watches and listens to drummers more than other bass players, and Chris just blew me away.  His approach, technique, musicality… he is a great player.  It took me a minute to figure the connection, but I realized that he was (and still is) the drummer in Grande Mothers, a group featuring ex-Mothers-of-Invention.  My band DOOT! had just opened a show for ex-Mother Don Preston’s Akashic Ensemble, and I had seen Chris’ name in the lineup for Grande Mothers.  We chatted after that gig, and we caught up again at Zappanale 20 in 2009.  We were staying in the same hotel, and had a chance to talk shop and such. I was fairly perceptive.  Chris was showing me tabla rhythm stuff with his hands as part of a normal conversation… my kind of guy.

    Another notable event was that I met bassist Roy Estrada, one of the bass players who stands out to me as an influence, and as a very hard working player.  Nothing fancy, but no mistakes either.  More specifically, Roy met me, which is accurate but still seems beyond reason.  I was standing in the parking lot of the Horizonte hostel looking for a ride into town and this hand slaps me on the back and says, in a loud and funny voice, “what the fuck ever happened to Doctor Dark!”  So Roy somehow identified me as the former bass player in a Captain Beefheart cover band?  It remains one of the weirdest events of my adult life.  Roy has one of the most distinctive discography/biography lines in bass player history.  Original member of Frank Zappa’s Mothers of Invention, Original member of Lowell George’s Little Feat, and member of a few very good lineups of Don “Captain Beefheart” Van Vliet’s Magic Band.  So I told him: I fell hard for the music, couldn’t get the band to rehearse to a level I was comfortable with, and eventually I had to get out.  He didn’t miss a beat and said “Artie (Art Dyer Tripp) and I had the same problem.  You did the right thing”

    Chris Garcia and Roy hung out quite a bit during Zappanale 20.  Most groups have that kind of dynamic where some members have other commitments, some are loners, and some end up hanging out.  We had some very loud and raucous breakfast conversations with Denny Walley, and I remember standing on grass beside the backstage wings with Chris, Roy, Steve Chillemi, and my wife Sandy during Terry Bozzio’s performance/finale that weekend.  Roy was a very “normal” guy, with no kind of attitude problems or “big time” issues.  I enjoyed the time I got to spend in his company.  On top of that, I felt like I had come to some closure with my Doctor Dark experience thanks to a benediction from the “rejected mexican pope”.

    Via this odd sequence of events and connections, I was asked if I was interested in playing bass in a Captain Beefheart tribute at a festival in Rochefort, France.  The details worked, I am able to get the time off from the jobby job, so I agreed.  There was one small detail to work out…

    Part 2

     

  • Lucky Taco Lands in Hartford!

    The hits, they just keep on a-comin’!

    After a very bleak winter on the Hartford lunch truck scene we have been treated to a veritable deluge of variety and quality since the spring of 2011.  The latest is Lucky Taco, the brainchild of David and Erin Emmons.  Veterans of the Austin, TX restaurant scene, they have taken their skills to the friendly confines of Bushnell Park.

    lucky taco
    Erin and David with the Lucky Taco Truck

    First off, I’ve been “lucky” enough to visit Austin about half a dozen times, with road trips from Houston to the hill country and out as far as Big Bend, and I think I have actually eaten at Magnolia Cafe, where David formerly worked.  That is a hash-slinger of a 24 hour joint known for cheap and good eats.  petebrunelli.com contributor Craig Caldwell says it’s a “hippie joint” and a descendent of The Omletry!  Either way, I have given Lucky Taco as much word of mouth around work as I can, and have also been eating a ton of their food.

    About that food: they do a fairly narrow thing, and do it very well.  The tacos are very tex-mex, very hill-country, and very good.  The ingredients are not beating you over the head with sauce and heat like you might get in combo-plate mexican fare.  The flavors are lighter, cleaner, and more distinct.  You get your choice corn, flour, or wheat tortillas.  The small cups of red salsa and salsa verde are just the right size to compliment a taco without smothering it.  Their Pork Carnitas taco is the most overtly flavorful, and I think it is the star of their pork/chicken/beef lineup.  All three are good, but the pork seems a little better.  That is probably the sear on the shredded pork speaking to me.  They also make three types of veggie tacos, and the “portabello fajita” is the standout in that trio.  In each case there are three very good options, and you can’t go wrong with any of them.

    Did I mention breakfast?  On my visits to Austin I have been indoctrinated into the magical goodness of “migas”.  These are basically torn tortilla pieces, usually softened up with some salsa verde or pico de gallo (or maybe just water…), and folded into fluffy eggs.  They are addictive, and *nobody* makes migas here in the northeast.  If they do, they probably suck at it.  Lucky Taco to the rescue!  The migas alone are worth the trip.  Fluffy, delicious, filling… get some of their very good coffee with it and you have a solid breakfast for about $5, maybe less.  here’s a tip: two migas tacos and a soda or iced coffee for a slammin’ lunch.

    Pricing?  Tacos are $3, and they run breakfast and lunch specials every day.  They make a franken-dog creation that I have not thrown down for yet.  I’m saving that for a special event.  They also make quesadillas, and they look great too.  Just in case that wasn’t enough, black beans and chips make a nice snack or a way to add some variety to one or two tacos.  They also have sides of refrieds, and a chip and salsa side.

    Editorializing: as a fan of both food trucks and efficient catering practices I am fascinated by places like Lucky Taco.  They can deliver their very good ingredients in a variety of ways without it seeming like the same thing in each dish.  That is harder than it sounds.  Dave is a machine behind the flattop, and he doesn’t seem to miss a trick.  I have eaten wayyyyyy more of their food in the past week and a half than I would like to admit and every item has been on the money.

    Conclusion: These folks are setting up right next to the Agave Grill taco/burrito cart, which is also very good and very fresh, and still doing very well.  The two styles are very distinct, but that could easily be lost on the casual eater.  Obviously I am saying “Eat Here, ASAP”.  And I mean ASAP.  Today I showed up early for lunch, was third in line, and there were about eight people stacked up behind me before I ordered.  With food like this they don’t need luck, but they got it if they need it.

  • Bicycles… and the tribes that identify with them

    One thing that has surprised me over the past year has been how differently one is received on their bike by a fellow cyclist and how tribal the reception can be.

    I typically ride in what bikesnobnyc might call “retro-fred” style.  Some form of T-shirt, mountain bike shorts, and sneakers.  If you have seen Time Traveling T Shirt Wearing Retro Fred From The Planet Tridork… you are most of the way there.  No cycling jersey, no aero helmet, no specialty eyewear, no specialty shoes.  Last year I was using clipless pedals and shoes, but I was getting pressure points and numbness in one foot.  Switching back to good platforms and light hikers solved the problem.  As well, I don’t notice a performance difference.  So much the better.  My bike is a bit of a mutant, cyclocross-style setup, fenders, blinky light…Kinda like a commuter setup with no storage.

    What I noticed first was that “serious” cyclists with “serious” clothing and “serious” eyewear would not even give a courtesy wave on the road.  Apparently they were too busy being “serious”.  Then I noticed that if there was any kind of exchange it reeked of a kind of condescension… Like a “I’ll wave back when you get a retro Colagno team shirt and some real shoes” kind of vibe.  Real or not, I still notice it.  I guess the deal is that if you aren’t a Lance-bot, you are not in the Lance-bot tribe, and don’t get the Lance-bot secret handshake.   I am not in the Lance-bot tribe, so fair enough.

    What I am is a guy who rides for fun and exercise, and rides with visibility and safety as a priority.  The roads I ride on are twisty and relatively narrow and you want any kind of edge to allow drivers to see and avoid you.  Helmet, bright colors, blinky light…  I also have a tendency to wave or say hi to anyone else I see on a bike.  Which led me to observation #2: The bike-ninja wearing black sweats and a black concert shirt with no helmet is also telling me that I am not in his tribe… I see more of these folks on bike paths, but they are all over.  Dark clothing, no helmet, no lights, no reflectors… and taking a nice evening ride on a busy roadway.  Regardless… I wave, they have the same response as the Lance-bot tribe… which is *none*.

    The weird part is that the bike-ninja, or “even more casual than me” cyclist, sees me as the spandex guy because I took the time to think out my wardrobe at all.  All I’m trying to do is avoid becoming bumper bait, but really I am just another notch up the “spandex mafia” food chain.  Which is probably right.  I own bike shorts!  I am just one major cycling apparel choice away from capo de regime level fred-ness!

    I may have been naive enough to see “people who like to ride a bike” as one fairly well integrated tribe.  No.  No such luck.  And it would seem that with every bike subculture (aka marketing segment) the result is more fragmentation.  (Don’t even get me started about the urban-fixie scene.  I love the idea, and most are good riders, but every YouTube vid of a messenger wannabee blowing through red lights and crosswalks while riding the wrong way on a city street just makes them part of the problem.) That fragmentation may help marketers of bike lifestyle products, but I think it really puts a dent in the ability of cyclists to work toward safer streets, better bike paths, bike-lock facilities, and the other things that ALL bike people would use.

    So when you see another bike person, don’t feel like you can’t wave, say hi, or throw a half full kinger of Bud at them!  It’s all good!

  • oh, the things that happen at 05:00 on Friday…

    After sleeping pretty damn well, I hear something that I have heard like clockwork for the 20+ years of living in our house: My neighbor Dave rolling down his driveway, truck idling, tires crunching on gravel, as he starts his day.  That particular clockwork happens around 4:30am, and I hear it whether I know it or not. Dave is a concrete contractor and a super hard working one at that.  Check the clock: 4:25am.  The rain from last night is gone, the faintest hint of dawn is appearing, and I am all prepped and packed for the Bike to Work day ride.  No excuses.  Sigh.

    The pre-dawn roll aside, nothing out of the ordinary, with the exception of this being the maiden voyage of the fender kit I installed last weekend.  I bought a SKS fender kit last year and made a few furtive/exploratory attempts at the install since then.  Now that we are in the middle of yet another month of wet spring weather, the motivation was in hand.  In the grand tradition of road-testing a modification under harsh circumstances, I roll like that once again.

    The ride to meet Dan Esty on his route was a blast.  Love that feeling of a totally quiet town, rolling through it like a high-viz ninja or something.  The intercept point is the Planstville end of the original Southington rail-trail, 5 miles from my house and 7 miles into Dan’s ride.  Aside from being dumb enough to stop at a light that wasn’t gonna trip because the sensor doesn’t “sense” a bike, it was a seamless ride and I had 10 minutes to relax and whatnot before Dan arrives at 5:30 with bike guy Pete Salamone leading the way.  Then there were three, as they say.  The Southington rail-trail is part of the Farmington Canal Trail has become a centerpiece of Southington’s “outdoor lifestyle”

    Oh… photos from the Hartford end of the event HERE

    As someone who doesn’t ride in groups, and sees a lot of the spandex mafia out there in some half-baked homage to Lance, I am suspicious of group rides and “serious” bike riders in general (separate post on that soon), but Dan Esty is not that guy.  Dressed for a beach ride!  Well used commuter/hybrid bike, flats, sneakers… My kind of guy.  Dan is also in very good shape and we are pacing at 14-15mph up the trail, pretty much alone.  I am able to lend a little insight into the Ideal Forge area, and the general topography, as we head past Southington High and start making the run north to Plainville and eventually Farmington.  We pick up a 4th rider, Harold Stone, near the old Novak Orchard, and have a nice pace going.

    Pete Salamone is one guy who I give a pass to on the “serious biker” thing.  Old school road biker, nice as can be, and he sets a nice pace just a shade faster than we might otherwise ride.  I dub him: BikeMensch!

    The bike-friendliness of the route declines with each mile and each change in roadway:  Rail-Trail, Back Roads, Suburban Roads, Secondary Roads, Highway Intersection, Semi-Urban Streets, Urban Streets…  All the while the roads are becoming more congested with commuters, trucks, busses…  The impact on my mental focus, both degree and direction, is not subtle.  The transition from observer to participant might be the simplest description. Probably my one verifiable lesson from BTWD.

    We pick up one more rider on Farmington Avenue near the MDC Reservoir, and have a sled ride down the hill to West Hartford.  Snacks and such at Blue Back Square, some media coverage (not much), a few speeches, and then a group ride to the State Capitol a few miles to the east.  The big surprise of the day is that Sandy came down to the Capitol for the 8:15 rally to lend some support and make sure I hadn’t been eaten by tigers or something.  Go Sandy!

    The wrap up, since there is a lot of blah blah blah from the arrival at Blue Back Square onward, is that the Bike to Work trip was a load of fun.  See the photos.  Fun!  It was also easier than I had anticipated, but it is still a 25 mile trip each way.  The psychological hurdle is over.  I can, and I believe I will, commute on my bike on occasion.  It is just too fun not to.  I also know that I could have done the ride home with out a problem, but there was a punctuation mark laid out by Mother nature on this day: a big line of thunderstorms rolled through right at 4:30pm, which would coincide with my reverse commute.  Welcome to New England.  I thought of my friend Paul who was either waiting it out somewhere, or getting drenched as he rode back to Avon.  I had a backup plan for the ride home.  Lucky me.

    The bigger idea of BTWD, as I see it, is to bring some focus to the need for safer streets, motorist education, bicyclist education, roadway and parking accommodations for users other than cars, and the usefulness of other modes for things like trips to work and errands.  I thought about these themes and more, sitting in the car with Sandy, my bike in the back, moving along down Interstate 91, dry…

  • oh, the things you commit to at 08:00 on a Monday…

    Weather permitting, meaning that it will be a few raindrops shy of an easy call, it looks like I am participating in a Bike To Work Day event on Friday. Dan Esty, the guy who had a moment of weakness (or else Dannel Malloy has some photos in a manila envelope that Dan would rather not ever have released from said envelope) and decided to leave the plushest gig in enviro-law to ride herd over a state agency during the deepest financial crisis of the past 80 years, is planning on biking from Cheshire to Hartford, and the route goes damn near past my house. All the excuses I have used for not making the slog into HardFerd by bike are useless against this tyranny of coincidences. The mileage is not a problem: I knock out this kind of ride on a regular basis. The grades will be nothing I don’t see every week in my neighborhood. The route is pretty much what I would pick, barring a dawn assault on New Britain. No… Nothing outside of my comfort range there… but, the Oh-Dark-Hundred departure time is a kick in the you know who. I love an alpine start as much as anyone else, and I am counterbalanced by my wife who believes that 5:00 AM is a mythical place beyond the stars, like Ballouville, only darker and colder. So if this thing actually happens, I will be heading out to join the fun at an ungodly hour of the morning, and I don’t usually sleep well with an impending early start. I am sure that Dan will have already sped-read through the latest Federal Register, written a few Amicus briefs, chatted up Kofi Annan, and checked in on his far-east portfolio, before hitting the road. I will be lucky to not shoot myself in the foot to get out of it.