Going, Going, Gone
Jamming for the first time after the injury A few years ago, while fleeing the grind and driving over Homestake Pass, on my way to visit some weirdo friends near Wise River, I had an idea for a song. A song about living unconventionally, because you only get one life and you shouldn’t spend the whole thing working just to accumulate money. Typical themes for a mid-twenties kid living out of the back of his Tacoma. I called the song Going, Going, Gone . I promptly forgot about the song for a few years. As one does, I soon found some stability. I would not ever call my life conventional, but there were hints of the normality that a younger me had planned to run away from. I found myself in a stable relationship and we made a smart financial plan to rid ourselves of the debt that sinks so many American ships. I started a construction company and worked six days a week, dragging myself out of the debt that I accrued for a college degree that I hardly use. I love building things, whether