so i'm at hard rock cafe...

yesterday in denver with robyn and her parents. i was comenting to robyn on the weirdness of hard rock cafe's. they seem to be filled with a bunch of crap... a whole wall deticated to seal, an alanis morrisette autographed sweater, regular not hard to find music posters, basic junk. every so often, however, tucked away neat in a dark corner, you run across an amazing gem or two that should be in a vault. denver did not disapoint. while walking up a flight of stairs to get to the restroom, i spied- just below a ticket to a mid-seventies moody blues concert- a photo of gram parsons. just to the left of the photo, opened to a page of his hand written lyrics of wild horses, love hurts, and other assorted ramblings, sat his personal journal and lyric book. it was pretty cool. i was quite excited.

song on at the moment: a fine romance, the dave brubeck quartet, brubeck time, itunes on random.