Hokey smokes Pablo! Everybody's been wonderin' what happened to you. Get in touch! I'm at -

reggiemiles at gmail dot com

I'm certain Artis and Crow would like to know you're around and still able to communicate.

meself, you may not hear back from Pablo in the next 30 years. It's been about that long since last we met and played together in The Music Circus, aka The Buzzards, aka The Street Buzzards, aka, and the final rendition, The Space Buzzards. I'm surprised that he'd surface after wandering so long away and apart.

One of Pablo's band mates, after he parted from our company and started his own trio, lives nearby and I bump into him at various events. He's not even heard this much in as many years. It'll be interesting to share this with the remnants of that flock.

We've all gone our separate ways from those long ago days of sleepin' in the bushes on the sides of the road, on top of the exhaust vents of city skyscrapers or sneaking onto overgrown hillsides to establish our own little hobo paradise. We stepped up to the plate to play together on as many streets as there were to play and even had some fun in places where only the crickets could hear us.

I posted one of my early recollections here a long time ago when I first visited this place and have penned a few more of the adventures but nothing written down or told as tales could really hold a candle to the life we led. It was right out of some smoky fantasy, like a hazy dream only dreamed of by the many who settle back and enjoy carefully planned lives. We took the big dare and stepped out on the road with our thumbs pointed skyward and everything we needed in a backpack or an instrument case. We tracked the snowbirds south to their lairs in the deep desert and made our way on to the voodoo queens to the Deep South to spare change the French Quarter and Mardi Gras. It was a helluva thrill ride.