The album came out on Friday. The livestream went out Friday, too. One premiered in the top ten on the iTunes rock chart, the other was watched 36k times by the next night. A few days later, the band became the first to play Live Nation’s brand new Drive-In live music venue at the foot of Philadelphia’s shrine to professional sports and entertainment. The next day saw the band getting naked and show ready on the side of a road, because small-town drive-in movie theaters that have never hosted live music don’t traditionally have backstage green rooms where the talent can change. 2020. Rock and roll.

It takes so much hard work and inventiveness to manifest these things. It takes courage and determination and commitment. It takes the presence of collaboration and the presents of friends and family. It takes time. Sometimes it takes a lot of time. You literally write your own list of rules as you go - a list of who you are, who you’ve been, and who you’re going to be - each rule, the title of a chapter in the story. I’m in it, I’m outside of it. I’m present, in the moment, but also anticipating chess moves a million steps ahead. I once acted cool and self-aware so as to seem belonging in this backstage life, and now I command it with the practice of an older, experienced lead. I’m showing people the ropes. I’m succession planning. These are strange times full of monsters and men, but we get through them with kindness, compassion, empathy and love. And thankfully, music is doing what it can to survive. As the first cars started rolling in and we hadn’t yet even sound checked, I noticed a Woodstock vibe to the caravan and could feel their excitement in driving giddily up to the stage for a live rock and roll music show.

It was only when I saw the girl exit her van and amble up to sit cross-legged on the roof in her jean shorts and flowered halter top that I realized, at least as far as 2020 is concerned, that we‘d somehow managed to get ourselves back to the garden.