ST. LOUIS

I was in St. Louis a couple weeks ago. St. Louis has surprisingly nice architecture. Like a mini-Chicago, with that distinctly American combination of solid, boxy functionality and fragile, organic detailing. There was an autumnal kind of cold up there - rainy, in the 40s and 50s; something we don't get in Texas until - I don't know - January? It was great. I like to wear a jacket.

I started my first real band in the fall, as a freshman at a northeastern university. Cold by the end of September, with a sobering premonition of the coming winter. The humid, romantic, color-saturated summer was over - the ol' brain dries out, sharpened by clear purpose and cold weather. The fall is the real New Year, marked by the unshakeable back-to-school clock set in childhood. Work waits out there for us.

I always feel this way in fall. Sometimes it feels great, all possibility. Sometimes its a reminder of what I botch-job I made of the preceding year. At any rate, the weekend in St. Louis - with its cool weather and rain - reminded me of the Great Blank Slate of Fall. Sinners, Repent! has lots of work to do right now: booking shows in Texas, recording a new EP, getting the old one pressed and released, new songs to write, adding new folks to the band, working with folks that we've played with in the past. I like to feel the cold in the air: it reminds me of my first real band and how quickly we leapt from the starting blocks, filled with excitement and no trace of doubt.

That indomitable spirit is, of course, eventually crushed into a fine, domitable powder. But it's still a fun hat to put on now and then, even if it's just to laugh at the reflection of your optimistic self. The glass is always half-empty, unless it's totally empty.