Wax On, Wax Off...

For the last four years or so, Banjo the bass player has practiced an interesting physical routine. For the first half of each year, he cleans himself up. Dead sober. No drugs, no cigarettes, no booze. He exercises, plays in a baseball league, rides his bike everywhere.

From January through June, the transformation is amazing. You can see him shedding pounds. His skin clears up, he looks younger. It's astounding.

I don't know what his plans are this year, but in the past, he's taken all the money he's saved by living this way and traveled; through Europe, around the US, stuff like that.

As we rehearse for the next Regular album, the clock is ticking. Somewhere around the end of this month, Banjo opens his personal flood gates, and the shit hits the fan.

The artist in me sees this as one of the most brilliant ongoing performance pieces I've ever witnessed. The discipline, the commitment, the consistency. Beautiful...

The friend in me, however, worries for Banjo. He will take a wrecking ball to himself. Every time I see him, he will be wasted, high, hung over, sick, or all of the above. And from time to time, at various parties, he will start to politely ask if it "would be cool if I got naked".

Amazingly, he will keep his job. He will pay his bills, maintain friendships, and his bass playing will not suffer.

Nonetheless, I will urge moderation. I will remind him of all the money he saved, and how good he felt. I'll encourage him not to stay up for days - to get some rest, goddammit. He'll understand my concern, and will even agree with me.

And it won't change a thing...