Jazz Jams at Noto’s: An Interview with Guitarist Steve Hilger

Every other Thursday night, guitarist Steve Hilger hosts a jazz jam in the lounge of Noto’s Old World Italian Dining at 6600 28th Street SE. Located in the Grand Rapids bedroom community of Cascade in southeast Kent County, the restaurant is easily accessible from the main drag. There, from 7:00–10:00 p.m., Steve provides a topnotch rhythm section for jazz musicians to sit in with and air out their chops.

While seasoned players are always gladly welcomed, Steve is particularly interested in giving high school and college musicians the chance to perform onstage with a live band. That kind of opportunity doesn’t come often or easily in West Michigan. Thanks to the vision and persistence of well-known jazz veteran Randy Marsh, downtown Grand Rapids has had a jazz jam venue for the last two years on Sunday nights, first at HopCat and lately at Speak EZ. Now Steve offers a similar opportunity to the outlying southeast area, within easy reach of musicians in the Forest Hills, Caledonia, East Grand Rapids, Kentwood, Lowell, and Middleville school districts.

This is the kind of thing I longed for as a younger player–and as an older player, for that matter. Let’s face it, West Michigan is not New York or Chicago. There are plenty of musicians here but not many chances for them to get together informally and blow.  So the jam sessions at Noto’s are a boon to developing and even professional jazz instrumentalists and vocalists. The setting is one where parents can feel comfortable letting their teen musician hang out with other players, and the rest of the family will enjoy it as well if they wish to listen.

The sessions have gotten off to a slow start, but there’s plenty of reason for them to take off once area musicians find out about them. Word just needs to spread. So I’m doing my part with this post. I’ve had a blast sitting in with Steve and the guys, and I invite you to do the same if you’re a jazz practicioner.

And that’s enough from me. It’s time to hear from Steve.

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Question: How long have you played guitar? Who are some of your influences?

Steve: I started playing guitar in the eighth grade with a cheap nylon string classical guitar and a borrowed Peter, Paul, and Mary songbook. I started with “Don’t Think Twice, Its Alright.” I actually learned the finger picking before the strumming.

My influences are many. I am a fan of a lot of different types of music including jazz, blues, acoustic folk, rock, and classical. Some of my influential guitar players include Carlos Santana, Eric Clapton, and Stevie Ray Vaughn. I would have to say that the most influential was Carlos Santana, because even as a kid, I marvelled at his melodic lines. It was not the number of notes he played that mattered, but which notes he played.

Yet musically overall, my influences are more from horn players such as Miles Davis, John Coltrane and Charlie Parker. Miles Davis was another example of playing the right notes instead of a lot of them.

Q: You’ve had your own bands for quite a while now, and you’re well-established in the Grand Rapids and West Michigan music scene. How did you get started?

S: In college, I had a friend who I started a band with. We wrote our own tunes and eventually recorded them in a studio in New York. The music took a back seat while I was raising a family and starting a legal career. After a divorce, I rekindled my lifelong passion of guitar playing and song writing. Nothing quite like a divorce to inspire you to write lyrics.

I went into the studio in 2005 to record some of the new tunes, and then we performed them live at the 2007 Grand Rapids Festival of the Arts. Shortly after that, we started to play blues and started performing around town.

Q: You started with a blues band. More recently you formed a jazz combo. What led you to diversify?

S: Ever since I heard Miles Davis’s “Kind of Blue” shortly after it came out, I was fascinated by jazz. Then, in the mid-70s, when The Allman Brothers put out “Live at the Fillmore East,” I discovered the blues. I’ve always loved both genres. So when I realized I had a blues band full of really talented jazz musicians, I decided to do both and started a jazz band as well.

Q: You and veteran drummer Randy Marsh are doing your utmost to uphold a vital tradition of jazz: the jam session. Randy hosts a Sunday evening session at Speak EZ in downtown Grand Rapids. You host one at Noto’s in Cascade every other Thursday, and you’re particularly interested in encouraging high school and college musicians to participate. Why are you doing this and what would you like to see happen? What do younger musicians get out of a jam session that they can’t get other ways?

S: When I was in high school in a small town thirty-six miles west of New York City, I played trumpet in the school jazz band. Our band leader played gigs in New York City and was pretty well known as a trombone player. She was able to attract top talent to come to our school and give clinics. I do not remember all of them, but I specifically remember Count Basie and Doc Severenson.

That was a huge opportunity, and it would be nice to pass it on in some small way. Student musicians need a chance, and have the right, to make mistakes. Once they get past the fear of failure, they can start to experiment, learn, and develop confidence which carries over in all aspects of life. If, for as long as I do this, I am able to reach one student in this fashion, all the effort will be worth it. Young musicians really need a place to come out and give it a go.

Q: You provide a unique tie-in between the Noto’s jam session and the selection of young musicians for this summer’s GRandJazzFest. Please tell us about it.

S: Every other Thursday, my jazz trio, TrioJazz has been performing at Noto’s. We thought that Noto’s would be a good venue for students to sit in and work their chops on jazz improvisation.

I am on the selection committee for musical acts for the 2013 GRJazz Festival. The Board thought it would be a good idea to have students participate in the festival, and we needed a way to reach out to jazz students to see who was willing and able to perform. It’s part of the GRJazz Festival’s commitment to include education as part of its goals. The Thursday night Noto’s gig provides a perfect opportunity to find student jazz musicians who might play in the festival.

The Noto’s gig is really the only way I will get the chance to meet student musicians in the community. And if a young musician feels they did not do as well as they would have liked on a given night, they can always come back and try again. There is no point-scoring here. While we hope to pick some of the top students to participate, everyone who comes out and plays is a winner in their own right. We will be selecting five or so musicians who will be given a chance to jump on the big stage at the jazz festival to showcase their talents.

Q: It can feel intimidating for a high school kid to set foot onstage and play with professional musicians. But you and your musicians are hugely encouraging and love to have younger players sit in. Talk about what a student can expect when they walk in with their instrument. Do you have any advice for them?

S: They and their family can expect a casual, wholesome setting and a warm welcome. They can listen as long as they want, assemble their instrument when they feel ready, and then play the tune or tunes of their choice.

My first piece of advice is, relax. Have fun! Enjoy the moment. Nobody is scoring anything here and you have nothing to lose. All of us started out at some point. So pick a tune, preferably out of the Real Book, or bring charts, and let’s see if we can have some fun!

Q: Jam sessions aside, what are you striving for personally in your own growth curve as a musician?

S: I strive to be the best musician I can be. That applies to all the music I play. I practice a lot.

One common experience among many musicians, me included, is that you always hear other musicians who do something better than you. What you don’t realize is that you yourself do some things better than anyone else. I remember an interview with a jazz great who was so disappointed with a solo he played because he hit some wrong notes, or so he thought. Then he noticed that everyone who was following him started playing those wrong notes because the “wrong notes” had now become hip. So I am always listening, always trying to get better, always trying to hear what other musicians are doing to see if there are any take-away things I can do or use.

Q: A steady diet of nothing but music makes for a great player but a narrow life. You own your own law firm, and I know that you absolutely love what you do. What other interests and activities do you have which round you out as a person?

S: First and foremost, my interests are my three wonderful kids and the lovely Deborah Richmond. They are the foundation of my life.

I truly enjoy my work and the firm I started and have helped to grow. We have great partners and a wonderful group of clients.

I am also an avid photographer and have traveled throughout the United States on photography trips, focusing mainly on nature, wildlife, and landscape photography. I have published articles and photos, and started all that as a news photographer in the late 1960s when photographers were somewhat of a novelty.

For many years, I traveled the country competing in archery, which ended in multiple state and national championships, records, and even the 2004 Olympic trials. Now, my son and I are into the shooting sports such as skeet and big-bore, long-range rifle shooting.

A Universal Chromatic Lick

Universal Chromatic LickThe lick shown here will fit in pretty much any harmonic situation (click on it to enlarge it). You can work it as you please, then resolve it on a chord tone and move on.

I like to start it on the flat five of a dominant chord, particularly an altered dominant or a V7b9. The first measure here, for instance, could pair with an F#7b9, and the next measure with an E7b9, and so on, moving downward by whole step with each measure and resolving finally to an F# major chord in the last bar.

You could just as easily maintain an F#7 throughout the entire lick. It will work fine, with dissonances justifying themselves as either leading or passing tones.

The lick also works well with a minor chord, though instead of starting on the flat five, you might try starting on the fourth or fifth. Really, just experiment and decide what you like.

The nice thing about a lick like this is that you can use just fragments of it–a single bar is nice–or you can coast on it for a bit till your brain finds a jump-off point, then launch into a new creative direction.

Have fun with this little device. And if you enjoyed this post, be sure to check out my many other articles on jazz theory, exercises, and solo transcriptions.

Presenting Big Band Nouveaux

Beginning with the new year, I’ve spent a number of Monday nights practicing with West Michigan’s newest (that I’m aware of) jazz venture: Big Band Nouveaux. Under the leadership of Grand Rapids tenor saxophonist Michael Doyle, this band is a collective of top-drawer jazz musicians that absolutely kicks butt.

Some months ago, Mike contacted me about a project he had up his sleeve. Would I be interested in participating? Mike is a great musician, so naturally he immediately got my attention, but I have to confess that when he mentioned big band music, I felt lukewarm. The big band format has never been my passion. Nothing against it, but I’ve always leaned toward smaller combos: more freedom, more flexibility, more interplay between musicians. That’s just my preference.

But Big Band Nouveaux is a different breed. It is unquestionably the most incendiary big band I’ve ever played in, with great charts that offer plenty of room for soloists to stretch and with some tremendously talented musicians in the lineup: Paul Lesinski, Fred Knapp, Isaac Norris, Louis Rudner, Mark Wells, and Arnaldo Alcevedo, just to name a few. Veteran Blue Lake Radio jazz announcer Lazaro Vega is honing his trumpet chops with the brass section; our fearless leader, the man in the pork pie hat, Mike, is playing first tenor; and Tyler Beer and I are making the alto sax charts happen. The arrangements are uber-hip, and playing with this ensemble has been more fun than I ever imagined.

Last Monday we recorded some demo tracks for the band. (Big thanks to Paul Lesinski for bringing in his recording equipment and then doing the mixdowns during the course of this week. Great job, Paul!) And I know that Mike is doing his best to hustle up some gigs for the band. We’ve still got our work cut out for us in terms of building our repertoire, but keep your eyes out for this molten-hot outfit. It will be making the scene in the coming months, and you definitely want to catch it when it hits the clubs.

Tonight by the Tracks: The Foibles of Practicing the Saxophone When You’re Me

I’ve found a new place to practice my saxophone along my beloved railroad tracks.

If you’ve followed the musical side of this blog for any length of time, you know that I do most of my practicing in my car, parked by a CSX line that threads the countryside from Grand Rapids to Lansing. Living in an apartment has forced me to find a suitable “studio” away from my living quarters, and since I’ve loved trains since I was a kid, the tracks are it. I don’t mind this arrangement at all. I’ve been getting in my practice this way for years, even a couple decades, and I like it so well that even if I owned a house, I would probably still venture out to the tracks frequently.

Anyway, these past couple of months I’ve begun parking in a little turn-in next to the tracks between Alto and Elmdale, which is like hanging out halfway between Huh? and Nowhere. I love this spot. Parking parallel to the tracks, I can see the distant signal lights both behind me in the mirror and in front of me through the windshield and can spot the headlamps of approaching trains from far off. It’s great.

Of course, the sight of a car parked off to the side with its lights out and the dim outline of a person sitting inside it looks a bit suspicious, and once in a while, the cops stop and check me out. I don’t mind–they’re doing exactly what they should be doing, and usually they’re pretty nice about it. The guy who investigated me tonight was a good example.

I was sitting there ripping through “Ornithology” with my Aebersold CD when a patrol car pulled up and melted both of my retinas with its spotlight. Okay, no sweat. I kept on playing, figuring that doing so would provide the quickest explanation for what I was about.

I figured right. When the policeman walked up to my window, he was laughing. “What’s the matter? Wife won’t let you practice at home?” he said. I explained my living situation and how I had been parking by this stretch of tracks for many years. “Yeah, I think I’ve seen you out here before,” he said. “You know, my father-in-law plays trombone, and my mother-in-law gave him crap for playing it last Thanksgiving.”

“Hey,” I said, “someone understands!” I handed him my license and let him run his routine. Then we wished each other well, he took off, and I returned to my practicing. It was a clear January night with a new moon, not very cold, and through my side window I could see Orion the Hunter striding through a riot of stars in the southern sky. In my rearview mirror, a green signal light announced the approach of a train still miles down the line. Such are the perks of practicing by the railroad tracks. Why would I ever trade them for playing indoors?

Diminished Whole-Tone Lick around the Cycle of Fifths

Tonight’s post is low on text but high in content. Click on the image to enlarge it, then print it out and take it with you to your next practice session and start adding a nice new lick to your diminished whole-tone collection.

Not much to say about this little gem that you can’t figure out for yourself, but here are a few points of interest:

    ♦  The lick begins and ends on the flat seventh of the V+7(#9) chord.
    ♦  Beats two and three highlight the major triad that’s formed off of the raised fifth of the parent chord. For example, if you’re playing a D+7(#9), the raised fifth is A#–or Bb, enharmonically–and beats two and three will accentuate an A# (Bb) major triad. You can look at it as chord superimposition.

    ♦  The last beat emphasizes the two “identity tones” of the dominant chord, leaping a tritone from its third to its lowered seventh.

That’s all. Have fun with it! And if you enjoyed this post, check out my large and ever-growing library of jazz theory, technique, and solo transcriptions.

How to Play Chord Changes: Melodicism Versus Change-Running

It was back in my college jazz band days that I first became concerned with “playing the changes”–that is, improvising in a way that insinuated the harmonies of a tune. Prior to that, I didn’t know what changes were. My inner ear had been informed by the blues and the psychedelic, proto-metal, and progressive rock of the seventies–wonderful styles of music, but they didn’t prepare me for the logic and complexities of more traditional harmony or the notations used in jazz charts.

So when our band director, the brilliant Dr. Bruce Early, handed out the first round of charts in my first semester, my freshman mind was fascinated by the lineup of symbols strung across the blowing section of a tune titled “Pygmy Dance.” What did all that mumbo-jumbo mean? An F# followed by a circle with a line slanting through it–what was that? And a B7b9? I recognized B7, but what did b9 mean? It seemed like that might be important for me to know.

Not that I needed to at the time, because I wasn’t playing lead alto. Good thing, too, because the tune was written in 11/8, and I was in no position to do anything with it but follow the rest of the band. When we got to the solo section, the lead guy, Dan Bryska, stood up and blew the balls off of those changes, as he did with pretty much anything I ever heard him play. What the … how did he do that? Amazingly, Dan didn’t even appear to be paying attention to those arcane scratchings on the chart. I’d have been glued to them, but he evidently had internalized them to the point where they appeared to be part of his genetic makeup.

Knowing the Mile Markers

Had I known then what Dan knew, life would have been easier. I’d have instantly recognized the tune as a blues–a long-form blues, as I recall, but still in essence just a blues–and done what Dan did: just stood up and blown. Dan saw the overall form and signposts of the tune while I was trying to figure out its hieroglyphs; Dan saw the tree while I was scrutinizing the leaves. And that knowledge (not to mention Dan’s fantastic technique and musical experience) allowed him to create where I’d have struggled simply to survive.

I soon came to understand the runes of jazz harmony and the scales attached to them. But translating that knowledge into inventive and expressive music was another story. I viewed the written changes as an accountant might, as hard figures which demanded that I justify every note spent, rather than realizing that they were simply guides that suggested certain melodic directions. I still wasn’t ready to do what Dan and other great soloists do: just stand up and blow.

Which brings me to the point of this post: how does one move from the constraints of jazz harmony to freedom and spontaneity?

The question is more relevant for some tunes than others. There’s a big difference between, say, “Cantaloupe Island” and “Confirmation.” The latter, a bebop tune, is far more complex harmonically, and its dense, fast-paced changes are exactly the kind that can hang a player up. But they don’t have to. Here’s why.

Two Approaches to Improvisation

There are two broad approaches to improvising on tunes: change-running and melodicism. In running the changes, a player seeks to outline or imply every chord in every bar, or at least, most of the chords. With a seasoned player, the results can be stunning. But by itself, change-running ultimately is limiting. There’s more to music than glorifying chord tones, and that’s where the melodic approach steps in. Melodic playing concerns itself with creating a pretty or an interesting melody rather than making all the changes. Not that this more scalar approach ignores or disdains a tune’s harmony; it just deals with that harmony more flexibly. As the name implies, it works with scales and melodic lines rather than chord tones.

Most good jazz soloists know how to utilize both approaches. It’s the blend of the two that can take a seemingly tight, demanding harmonic structure and make real music with it.

So here’s the deal: learn the changes to a tune. Work them into your fingers during practice by running arpeggios, patterns, and licks over them. And as you do so, consider whether there are any particular tones that define distinctive measures in the tune, then earmark those pitches mentally. In other words, look for harmonic signposts that you can refer to. You don’t need many of them, just a few, ones that to your ear are the most significant. These will help you get a feel for the broad shape of the tune. The more you work with the tune, the better you’ll get at filling in the areas between those signposts with cool stuff.

The process I’ve just described, which seeks to cultivate both change-running and a broader melodic perspective, requires a good deal of mental effort at the front end, but your playing will become increasingly intuitive as you stick with it. By degrees, the tune will become yours, and you’ll find yourself stepping out of rigidity into exploration and inventiveness.

This holistic approach seeks to balance the extremes at either end. If you’ve been locked into the changes to the point where you’re a change-running machine, maybe you need to lighten up and think more melodically. If you’ve been lax in dealing with the rigors of harmony, think about adding a few more leaves to your tree.

The discipline comes first, then the freedom. Learn how to play the changes, but also know that you’re not enslaved to them. They’re consultants, not employers; guides, not dictators. The better you and your fingers know your way around a tune’s harmonic structure, the more you’ll be able to make judicious choices as an improviser–but don’t get stuck on the chords. The point of learning to serve the harmony is to make it serve you, and you don’t need to be a master change-runner for that to happen. The goal, after all, is simply to play pretty.

So practice hard and practice smart. Then do like Dan: just stand up and blow.

Bob Hartig Plays “Giant Steps”

At long last, I’ve gotten my chops for Giant Steps changes up to speed enough that I’m ready to share a recording with you. It has taken me months of practicing to get to where I’m beginning to convert licks and patterns into original statements. That’s not an easy thing to do with this tune, and I freely admit that there are a few rough spots here. But there are also some ones that I’m quite proud of. I particularly like the opening statement–I don’t know where it came from, but I’m glad it found its way into and out of my horn.

In another few months, I hope to have advanced to where I’m playing still more freely and inventively and am ready to do another recording. For now, though, this one will serve as a mile marker to document my progress. Without further ado, here is me playing Giant Steps

The background, by the way, is Band-in-a-Box, which served fine for this purpose. Big thanks to my good friend Ed Englerth for gifting me with his sound engineering wizardry in his Blueside Down recording studio. You make me sound good, amigo!

Two Giant Steps Licks

Lately, my book The Giant Steps Scratch Pad has enjoyed a modest spate of sales. I appreciate that musicians take an interest in it. On my part, it was a labor of love, and it’s gratifying when you, my readers, find it worthwhile enough to shell out your hard-earned cash to obtain a copy. Every purchase is a shot of morale for me, not to mention a nice dent in my electric bill.

As a way of saying thanks, I thought I’d share with you a couple of favorite new Giant Steps licks that I’ve been practicing. They correspond to the A section of Giant Steps’ A-B form and have a bebop flavor to them.

Since I’m an Eb alto saxophonist, I’ve written the licks out for my instrument. C, Bb, F, and bass clef instruments will need to transpose accordingly. ‘Nuff said. Without further ado, here are the licks. Click on the image to open and enlarge it.

Things a Jazz Musician Never Hears Anyone Say

You see this? It’s a rare phenomenon in Michigan called “rain” (pronounced rayn). It began yesterday as a closed 500 mb low settled in over the state, and it looks like it will be with us for a while, as the low seems content to linger. You can see a hint of cyclonic swirl on the radar.

And that’s not all: as I write, just a quarter past noon, the KGRR station ob shows a temperature of only 57 degrees. After a heat wave that has stretched from June into early August, with temperatures in Michigan exceeding the 100-degree mark at times, suddenly it looks and feels like autumn. Yesterday I traded my shorts for blue jeans. Even during a normal summer, that rarely happens.

After a historic, severe drought that has mummified Michigan and crippled much of our nation, this steady rain and respite from the heat is beyond welcome. It is a godsend, and those of us who believe in God thank him for it. “He sends his rain on the just and the unjust”–and to the just and the unjust alike, it is a great beneficence.

Next week there’s the possibility of a trough digging down from Canada across the northern-tier states, with jet energy bringing the potential for severe weather in the Great Lakes sometime Wednesday and/or Thursday. But that’s far from certain at the moment. The GFS has painted some wildly varying scenarios, and the most I can see right now is that both it and the ECMWF agree on troughing, with the Euro painting the more potent picture.

Okay, enough of the weather. Let’s talk about music. A while ago, I posted a status update on Facebook that struck me as pretty funny. I have a great appreciation for my own sense of humor, which is a good thing because it means that I have at least one fan. What I hate is when I tell a really hilarious joke and then I don’t get it. Then I have to explain the punch-line to myself, and that just ruins it. Fortunately, that doesn’t happen often. Most of the time, I break out into spasms of laughter, and people look at me oddly, and … getting back to my Facebook post: I figured that I’d share it here and then add onto it whenever I feel inclined. Feel free to post your own additions in the comments section. Without further ado, here are …

Things which, as a jazz musician, I have yet to hear someone say:

.
“Could you turn up the volume? You’re not loud enough.”

“For our first dance, we want you to play ‘Giant Steps.'”

“You want $100 per musician to play at my club? Is that all? I’m doubling your rate. It’s about time you musicians gave yourselves a cost-of-living raise.”

“First tahm playin’ hyeer at the Eyegouge Saloon, eh? Well, I hope yew boys play a lot of Ornette Coleman. Folks hyeer get mighty disturbed if’n they don’t get their Ornette. And another thang: do NOT, if yew value yer life, play ‘Free Bird.'”

“I know we’re an all-white church praise team with three guitars, but we only like playing in the flat keys.”

“What t’hell you mean, you don’t have a trombone player? How can a jazz band not have a trombone? Tell you what: you come back next week with a trombone player and I’ll shell out an extra hunnerd-fifty bucks.”

Saying Good-Bye to July

Looks like I almost let July slip by without making a single post.

Almost.

I just haven’t felt inspired to write in this blog lately. Weatherwise, what’s to say?

Right–the drought. Frankly, I haven’t felt like writing about the drought. We all know how horrible it has been: day after day and week after week of relentless, rainless heat. No doubt that’s newsworthy, but I’ll let the news media tackle it. From my perspective, it discomforts me, it annoys me, it inconveniences me, and certainly it concerns me, as it should anyone living in the continental United States. To say it has been disastrous is putting it accurately. But while I suppose this drought is severe weather in its own way, it doesn’t interest me the way that a thunderstorm does. Mostly, it’s something I wish would go away, a sentiment shared by millions of Americans roasting in the Midwestern heat.

Fortunately, it won’t be here forever, and lately the pattern around the Great Lakes has seemed to be nudging slowly but progressively toward a stormier one. As I write, the radar screen for Michigan looks like this (click on image to enlarge it).

I like that: a cold front dropping out of the northwest bringing a nice line of storms and a good dousing of much-needed rain.

Shifting gears to music, there’s not much to say on that topic either. Of course I’ve been staying on top of my instrument, but that’s par for the course. My woodshedding on “Giant Steps” and “Confirmation” continues, along with “Ornithology,” and I’m getting to where I’m starting to shred the bejeebers out of those tunes. But, mmm, yeah, okay, so what. Where do I go from here?

The studio, I think. It’s about time I finally recorded my efforts, put something down for ears besides mine to listen to. Otherwise, why am I bothering with all this practicing of tunes that no one is ever going to call for on a gig? Folks want “Satin Doll,” not Coltrane changes. Still, somewhere out there I think there are people who will take an interest. So I need to get with my buddy Ed Englerth in his Blueside Down Studios and make some noise.

‘Scuze me if I sound a bit cranky. At 56 years of age, I’m rapidly approaching full curmudgeonhood and I am getting in practice for it. The lack of heavy convection and lack of gigs combined is assisting the effort. But a shift in either aspect of that equation will restore my humor and give me something to write about.

No, that’s not right–there’s always something to write about. What I need is something I feel like writing about. Maybe later tonight will do the trick, when that storm line which is presently 50 miles to my north moves in. Hmmm … the cell that is just making landfall near Pentwater is packing straighline winds of nearly 70 knots. That’ll create some interest for folks south of town.

Now to close up shop and see what kind of action we get around here a few hours hence. If it’s nothing more than a good dumping of rain, I’ll be more than happy. But I’m betting it’ll come with a spark and a growl.