As the painting was wrapping up, the Spring cleaning kicked in (even though it's Fall, lots of crap to throw out). It made me think of my song ideas... no, not the crap part, jackass, the throwing old stuff out part. I never throw any song ideas away. Not musical or lyrical. You never know when you need a song, a chord change, or even a line. It's cool to look back and find one line that became a whole other song. I've been thinking of going back to my notes (some are in a notebook, others in a box, page after page on loose leaf, napkins, deposit slips, etc.). There's an old song I haven't messed with since 1996 maybe. It's called "Delaware". The lyrics are on the inside cover of a Hunchback of Notre Dame (Disney's) coloring book my son had left in the car. I'm thinking it might go well on this new CD we're working on. It's funny how a song almost 10 years old could work well with songs just a few weeks old (remember titles such as "50 Miles" and "Six Feet (Out the Door)", they'll be the new "Somekind of Boyfriend" and "April's Lips" for the new CD). Anyway, it just amazes me how a song that doesn't seem to fit at a certain time can fit so well years down the road. Sometimes it's the feel, sometimes the direction of the band, sometimes the way the guys in the band play style-wise. It's so many things. "Georgia Red Clay" was written in '88, and not recorded till 2001. Then some songs are written on a Tuesday, rehearsed on a Thursday, and played out that weekend (eventually being recorded in the next few months). I guess the thing is to never toss anything away. Save everything for a rainy day 'cause when writer's block hits, it's like a hurricane. The rain goes on and on but you're ok, you've got that old milk crate of ideas to help pull you through, get your creative juices back on track. Sometimes all it takes is some forgotten lyric to kick an idea into action. The whole process is very odd, never having a certain formula. I guess that's a good thing for several reasons: it never gets dull or boring, and you never get nervous that you'll never write another song. Hope springs eternal (even though it's Fall). Take care. Later, Butch