Out to Albany for a concert, my friend and I dropped in on a good record store ready for some new used vinyl. It has been months since I last bought a record. That's odd. I usually buy at a faster clip, but I've been on a shopping ban and it has felt good. I've a written plan for the ban complete with an exception for out-of-town records stores, so I was all set to buy something new and throw it on the turntable the next day.
But I found nothing.
Really. I couldn't find a single album I really wanted to buy. I went through the store at least twice. (My friend is ridiculously patient with me.) There was nothing I wanted, nothing I needed, nothing at all. I couldn't believe it. I don't remember the last time I went to a record shop and couldn't find anything to buy, but there I was. I walked out with nothing but disappointment.
We went to [our favorite pub], drank oatmeal stout, ate burgers and fries, talked about everything, watched women's basketball, then went to The Egg for Pat Metheny's Side Eyes show which was fantastic in every way. It was a tremendous night. Even the long drive back to Syracuse was good.
I woke the next morning, looked at the records beneath my turntable, pulled out The Pat Metheny Group, cleaned it, dropped the needle, and settled in to write. You know, it sounded just like a new album to me. Not disappointing in the least.