Maybe you remember (the era has become mostly a blur to me), but during the 1990s the Universe slipped into a real sweet spot. That much I remember. There was a beautiful synchronicity at work—or perhaps at play is more appropriate. I don’t want to call it The Grunge Renaissance because there was so much more to it than the music of the era (and so much more to the music of the era than grunge), but, for better or worse, it’s impossible to discuss the nineties without cuing a backing track of some kind.

For perhaps the first time since the late sixties, everything in the world made perfect sense. More specifically: nothing made sense (that much was normal), but Art had once again become the healing catharsis characteristic of renaissance periods. It had to be the music. Makes you wonder who was jamming back in ancient Rome.

Unpopular opinion: I always preferred Alice in Chains to Nirvana.

*Shrugs.

I dig them both, but Alice in Chains always bordered more on metal—and so do I for that matter. There’s just something about Jerry Cantrell’s guitar playing—and his songwriting. A lot of people don’t realize that: while Layne Staley (rest in peace) was one of the best singers of our time, Jerry wrote the music and the words to basically every song. And he’s a wonderful singer in his own right.

So, we’re off to see the Rooster before life snuffs him like he’s been taunting all this time. In the past several years alone we lost many amazing artists: David Bowie, Chris Cornell, Scott Weiland, Chester Bennington… On and on. Jerry Cantrell is just about the last of my favorites left. So many fallen heroes who devoted their lives to art—many of them at prices higher than anybody would have liked. Nevertheless, the show goes on.

Got my beer. Got my whiskey. Got my tickets.

Got my pills ‘gainst mosquito death…

The rest remains a blur I’m still mentally unpacking, surreal as it was. Like living a forgotten dream, one from childhood. I didn’t think the show would affect me this much. And yet, I hadn’t seen any live music in a while; I was getting hungry. Now, here I am, literally laughing until tears remembering that second guitar solo during Man in the Box when the entire world and all my stupid problems fell away and everything did somehow all make sense for a brief, brilliant second; and how, now, spontaneity like divination places me back into the present moment with a renewed sense of urgency. And purpose.