Who’s The Good Boy

Logan, Utah…
This is my first time ever playing in Utah… there is something rather precious and sweet about a first night in any place. I remember the first night I set foot in India, rode in to New Delhi from the airport on a 10pm bus… walked straight into the darkness and chaos and smell of piss everywhere… I took the advice of a girl I met on the bus ride. She swore this particular hotel was amazing and cheap. Cheap it was… $1 for the night. It turned out to be the dingiest, skankiest, sketchiest place I’ve ever slept. Bugs and roaches crawling around. A stained mattress (with no sheets or pillows or blankets) sitting in a metal frame. Pulsating, shimmering, florescent lights that barely lit the room. A broken padlock hinge to keep the door closed. The bathroom was worse. I ended up staying awake the whole night on that first night in New Delhi.

Logan was the name of my boyhood dog. The best dog ever. I was about 15 years old. He was a black collie with a white crown around his chest. Smarter than any dog in the world. Loved him more than anything in the world. Funny how a word or memory from your past can give you preconceived, prejudged bias. I can’t not love you, Logan. Who’s the good boy?