Los Angeles really is the city of the angels. No kidding. And they were all, visible or not, at Hollywood Forever to give us a grand welcome. I can’t tell you how thoroughly peculiar it is to play in a place where the acoustics are so good, and the audience so receptive, and the ambiance so perfect, and yet all that is overwhelmed by the fact that just outside, resting, one hopes, peacefully, are Valentino and Cecil B. DeMille and a host of other legends of early Hollywood Cinema. Hallowed ground, that. I was working seriously on assuming the proper air of humility when I walked into the auditorium, when the crowd arose and delivered a standing ovation. I kept looking behind me to see who it was for. I mean, I hadn’t even done anything yet. But they were all kind, they truly were, and there were several familiar faces in the audience, including Dale Dickey and husband, and John Hawkes with two musician friends, who came up and played a couple of numbers betwixt and between. And Winter’s Bone producer Alix Madigan brought her mother, and Dusty Smith of Roadside Attractions brought some colleagues, and Matt Sullivan, head of Light in the Attic, which published the WB soundtrack. And my dear and treasured songwriting partner, Robin Frederick was there so we could show her what we did with her songs. Altogether a splendid and satisfying event. We camped out at Matt’s house, which is just a street over from the venue, and slept, those of us who couldn’t hear the rock music coming from a party down the street. The following morning we arose early and headed east on the Long Drive to Phoenix.
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