Our rickety tour bus barely makes it up the meandering mountain road as we approach the Bilboa BBK Festival in Spain. I remember thinking, well, if there was ever a place for our brakes to give out, sending us careening down the sheer cliff to our spectacular death, you could do far worse. The Biscay province of Spain is inspiringly beautiful. It’s 360 degree postcard vibes, as if the Colorado front range took a beach vacation. I feel lucky. Music’s taken me here.

Somehow, our Port-a-Potty on wheels lurches into the bus parking area, and we’re cheerfully escorted to our dressing room. At festivals, there’s a certain leveling of the playing field- our dressing room’s next door to Phoenix’s, for example- and, for a day or two, you feel like maybe you’re invited to the party. Just don’t try sitting next to Joe Bonamassa. But that’s another story.

I disappear for an hour or so, bouncing around the festival, taking pictures, gorging myself on chorizo. You know, getting “show ready.” When I arrive back, it’s relayed to us there’s been a mix up: we’re on the bill, just no one bothered assigning us a stage. Whoops. But don’t worry, there’s an opening in the EDM tent during the afternoon, we can slot you in there!

Great. A soul band. In the EDM tent. During the afternoon.

We show up, and the attendance is predictably anemic for the poor noon-1pm DJ. He signs off, the couple dozen people hanging around scatter in search of face drugs, and we start playing. For 10 people.

A couple songs in, I see people working their iPhones, and soon there're 50 or so new faces. Then a hundred. Then two. Half way through our set, people are literally running down the hill, climbing over barriers, dancing and smiling and clapping and, boom, the tent’s packed. From ten to a few thousand in 45 minutes.

There’re a handful of moments I can point to and say ok, this was it, this justifies my not pursuing the actuarial sciences. I'm looking forward to sharing them.

Music continues to inspire, confound and challenge me in ways I never imagined.

I’m thankful for-

-My friends

Living these experiences with brothers/sisters in arms makes my life immeasurably full.

-These experiences inspiring me to take more chances

I wouldn’t be releasing my own music, writing this, or co-hosting the Not Famous Podcast if it weren’t for experiences like the one above.

-This breakfast crepe

-Sunrise crepe with bacon at Red Bicycle. Go get it.

January 8! It’s me!