Good morning, and happy Saturday. So great to see Jo Ann's four days of posts! I've gotten very into writing every day. But the kind of focus it takes is the exact kind of focus that is eroded by a long day (or week, or series of weeks) of mind-numbingly-insane work. It's funny, reading four straight days of Jo Ann's posts has allowed me to be the observer of our experience. Totally different from being the narrator. A welcome relief from a job—writing—that I love. Jo Ann's blogging also makes me feel supported in a time when I have literally been coming home every night and working until midnight on the computer.
We are in an amazing period at Dangerbird—just moved into our new buildings on Sunset, launching the Eulogies and Silversun Pickups records, hammering projects for our producer clients, and cranking away at the plans and budgets for Eagles of Death Metal tours all over the world—and Jo Ann has upped her support of me as I have felt and voiced my feelings of guilt for not being with her, Pablo and Grady as much as I want to be. The guilt is quadrupled when Pablo is in the hospital for chemo.
Ultimately, we both know that I have to work—for all the obvious noble reasons of providing for my family and all that, plus, there are a lot of people counting on me in my professional life. What Peter and I do is a lot like pushing a giant effin' boulder up a mountain. If we lose our rhythm with one another, or the artists and employees around us, the boulder will simply roll right back over us. Not my idea of fun. Jo Ann's emotional and practical support is (and always has been) a cure-all elixir for me when times get tough like this.
This morning, I'm up early to hit the road on two wheels with my friends Piero, Jeff, Diarmuid, Jeff. We're climbing the mountain that Lance Armstrong and the rest of the riders in the Tour of California will ascend this afternoon. Very exciting to have all the biggest names in cycling from around the world climbing the same mountain passes that we do all the time. I'm going to go up with them, and descend into La Canada right away. The rest of my crew are gonna stay at the summit to see the race fly by. Not me.
I'm gonna cruise home, shower, and take Jo Ann (if she's feeling better) and Pablo down to the finish line at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena. Matt Solodky, our GM at Dangerbird, got us VIP passes for the bleachers at the finish line. This is ridiculously amazing—and pretty much the only way for Pablo to do it this year. He has to be near a potty, and the bleachers make it possible for P to actually see the riders as they fly by at speeds of 35+ m.p.h. I want Pablo to have this experience. And I want to have it with him. Being at Baby Luke's memorial last week framed beautifully the importance of creating experiences with Pablo—actually for any parents with any children.
I hope Jo Ann's sore throat subsides overnight. We went to the ToC last year with the kids, and it was super fun. The anticipation of the peloton, the screaming announcer and then the unbelievable rush of 130 riders flying by in one massive ball—it's a sight and sound explosion. This year is a one-of-a-kind moment with Lance being back on the bike.
Speaking of Lance and me and bikes, I received confirmation today that I will be riding with Lance at an event in LA in early March. He's going to be walking the fourth floor cancer wards at our VERY OWN CHLA! And then will ride down Sunset Boulevard with 699 other riders. Not sure if it's been announced yet, so I will leave it at that. I can barely contain myself. But you already knew that!