072018 Tom said “it might be the last one, I don’t know” at the end of drumming tonight. Estelia was beautiful (as was Michael of course) and she told me “put down the whip” and stop being so hard on myself. She tented her fingertips on my left shoulder and said, “I’m a lot older than you—no, I am—and I wish I could just transfer directly to your brain all my wisdom. Like Spock!” She said I should be compassionate with myself. Joe from Jersey who I used to think was so obnoxious, turns out was like a normal person who really needs some company— —just like me. Shannon played the dun’s (sp?) and I listened to her. When I listen to the women, I tend to play better. There was a girl from Germany who said “I’m glad I get to come to places like this, so I know not to judge Americans.” These two guys came in from the bar next door—one was like a construction worker lego man, and the other was a frizzy, grinning, alert, myabe gay(?) tall skinny black guy with a black shirt that said “SWITCH” in gold sparkling letters. They drummed with us for a while and then left in good spirits. Estelia’s from Colombia. Did you know that? She said “this is how hispanic people say goodbye” and Tom said “by not leaving?” because the four of us had lingered and talked for like a half an hour. Tom said, “that one was special.” It really was.