Tomorrow night is Fog Night. We’re heading north to Anaheim for another bout with J Mascis and them Fogs. Watt’s on the thunderbroom, Berz on the skins. Very fucking excited to see them Fogs. This has been quite a tour. I saw ‘em back in December up in the big city LA at the Troubadour. It was loud…in anticpation I brought my Dinosaur Jr issue ear plugs to combat the monstrous feedback. But you know what, a couple licks into the deal I pulled ‘em out so I could FEEL the Mascis fury that much more. My hearers rang for a good day or so.

Mascis is it for me. Has been for the last decade.

And Watt…always a pleasure to be a part of his evening. Everytime I see him I try to get a handshake to express some appreciation. Watt lives econo. I like that. I’ve seen Watt go from introductions to full-sail spiels…slingin’ the heavyweight names like D.Boon, Thurston, Rollins in a couple sentences. He’s had an amazing run in the “Punk Rock Navy.”

My experience with meeting Mascis hasn’t been as colorful. And that’s fine. That’s J.

One time at Hood Meadows in Oregon, on our way back from a Dinosaur Jr show the night before, an interesting moment took place. In the lift line I notice this pink fleece hat. It rings a bell, “Hey, the hat from Mascis’ Rolling Stone article.” Hmmm? We trod through the ranks and I keep my eye on the chairs ahead. Sure enough, I see a figure ahead of us, long brown hair piling out from under the fleece, looking sullen. J. We ride up, unload and gauge the moment. There’s J, readying his gloves and goggles for the ride down. He’s on skis. J’s got the winter bug.

I hike over and inquire, “Excuse me, I saw the show last night. Just wanted to tell you thanks.” He mumbled a warbly, scarf-muffled, “Cool, man.” and I was on my way.

I’m a fan fo the Mascis. And the Watt. Thanks guys. See you tomorrow night.