WRECK

There is a little acoustic cafe in Galveston. And the owner loves animals, loves our Humane Society, always considers us first when giving. He sends out the most cryptic, hilarious music calendar emails for the cafe, a jumble of dates and websites amid stories about life, love and politics.

His weekly email popped in today and I skimmed it. He ended it, quite abruptly, with this story:

This was 1996, I quit my only high paying straight job
I ever had and was so relieved to get out of a
mediocre blues cover band I played in every freaking
weekend. The band was worse than the job.
I bought a beach house on Bolivar Peninsula in 1993.
I spent every weekend fixing that place up. Townes
came through town several times and Harold always
brought him down here to get away from the ever
present "Motel" crowd that always haunted Townes.
I was simply driving back home one sunday. I recall
Richard had played at a place call the Acoustic Cafe.
I pulled up and the doors were open and all the furniture
was pilled up in front. I walked in and asked what was
going on. Don and Liz Kenney told me they had moved
out and paid no rent for several months. I said, is it for
rent, they said yes, and I said I'll take it. I drove back to
Houston thinking wtf had I done. I called Townes
immediately and he said he would play. It didn't take long to
decide and I gave my 30 day notice. I really didn't want
to die on I-45 with a tie on. The rest is future. Wow,
what a wonderful endeavor this has been and still is.
I'm a lucky guy. Wrecks

Wouldn't you be lucky too?

Lucky to follow a dream, take a chance on something that doesn't make a whole lot of sense? Something that your heart tells you to do?

It's called FAITH folks. What a humbling, respectable thing.

Thanks to Wrecks for reminding us all.