NP: Dave Fiuczynski's Headless Torsos, Amandala (MP3)

Okay, I think I've finally started to get back in the groove of being home again. There was some lingering grumpiness, but I think that was just fatigue. And/or a hangover. Anyway, I had less than 36 hours after returning from NYC late Thursday night before I hopped on a plane for Dallas for a corporate gig (i.e., a music gig for a corporate event, not an actually job job, as in "my corporate gig"). The cool part of that gig, aside from being treated like rock stars in the admittedly small pool of a real estate company corporate function was that said company is run by former Dallas Cowboy QB Roger Staubach. Staubach just happens to be my first ever real sports hero, although New York Yankees Chris Chambliss and Thurman Munson could give him a run for his money. So playing for him was pretty effing cool.

Other parts of the trip were, um, interesting. Met some important music business people, lived sorta like a rock star, and saw James Gandolfini while in the Big Apple. Also met the most beautiful waitress ever at the Paramount Hotel. Genevieve, we hardly knew ye. And I quote, "you have to wave if you want something, because I can't tell if people are just looking at me."

Then on to New Jersey and the Meadowlands for the Final of the U.S. Open Cup, featuring the Chicago Fire and the MetroStars. About 25 Fire fans were there, and the camera loved us in general, and me in particular, to the point where play-by-play man Max Bretos actually gave props to my column on the Fire's website. The airtime had the immediate effect of many friends back in Chicago (and points elsewhere) calling all of us, so we were all seen talking into our cellphones in the next shot. As much as I didn't want to be that guy talking on his phone during the sporting event, I'll take that over being that guy who got in Moises Alou's way in the eighth inning of Game 6 of the NLCS.

Which brings us to the Cubbies. I don't blame Bartman. If you blow a 3-1 series lead, there's much more to it than that. I did just realize however, that I was out of town for all four Cub losses. Which means it's all Gillis' fault.

Just kidding, Steve. There are at least four other band members we can hang this superstition thing on. I'm just here to help. Oh, and the Fire won the game, then secured the "Supporters' Shield" with a win back at Soldier Field on Saturday. Two trophies down, one to go.

In mildly related news, I may take an extended break from playing soccer. I'm a little burnt out, and recent events with my squad aren't exactly giving me warm, fuzzy feelings. Also, leagues cost money, and I'm still scratching and clawing for that next payday. Although the job lead leaderboard is looking good on the music side and on the contract work side. We'll see what happens.

Happy belated birthday, mom!