I Love My Whiskey And I Love My Gin

So, I've been off the grid for a week now and that was all awesome and stuff, and there was lots of nature (read, bugs,) and quality family time, and blah, blah, blah, but I'm back and I've got a ton of random schizer stuck in my head so get ready! I'm sure all five of my readers have been anxiously awaiting my return with bated breath, so let's just jump right in here. Somehow during our time in The Natural State my cousin tricked me into listening to a lot of Old Crow Medicine Show and enjoying it. I must have been distracted by all the cuteness he was doling out on Bug. He drew him this picture at Bug's request. Both of them seeing no reason why an Air Whale (our new family band name, btw) can't exist in real life. (First single, Lonesome Hay Bale. Gonna have a wicked harmonica solo. Get into it.) Anyway, the combo of this new found friendship and the copious amounts of red wine I'd consumed had me happily tapping my feet along to the OCMS version of Cocaine Habit (or Take a Whiff on Me.)

Now this little piece of Americana has been covered by everyone from Woody Guthrie to the White Stripes, Jerry Garcia to the Flying Burrito Brothers (and a whole slew of others from the late 1920s to the present date,) but the Old Crow Medicine Show version had us all kicking our boots in the mud by the fire (while we were discussing the possibilities of string theory and theoretical physics...I kid you not. Staring at so many stars for so long tends to shift your perspective on things a bit.) Anyway, my point being that no matter what you're doing or debating or discussing right now, you can kick your boots a little bit while you listen. It feels pretty good. 'Specially if there's mud on 'em.