After a laundromat session, a heart attack sandwich and a few beers Burri and I ventured home at a decent hour. A decent hour for NYC at least. When we got back to his place, Burri was kind enough to let me have his bed for the evening. I dove in. He opted to pass out in a camping chair instead. I hope he was comfortable, because I sure as hell was.
Today we are bummin’ around Brooklyn, anticipating the arrival of Burri’s mom, Barbara. Tonight we will all head over to Cameo to witness Burman take the stage with Annie and the Beekeepers. Surely he’ll kick ass. In the meantime, I’ll be standing stage-side, sipping vodka sodas and soaking it all in. Since a young age we’ve watched Burri’s music career grow. It all started on a back porch of Front Street in Marquette. He then invaded the open mic sessions at Hiawatha Music Festival. Fifteen years later, you can find him rocking from the stages of NYC. Based on the audio samples that I heard last night, I don’t think that this evening will disappoint.
Day 9,998. Good luck to Annie and the Beekeepers.