Maybe it worked. Maybe it wasn't a concern to begin with. But it made me feel a little better. I heard voices from the living room of the suite as I a...proached. I stopped, listening at the door. The hotel air conditioning pebbled my still wet skin, but I didn't want to waste the opportunity to get a better sense of what other people knew. The voices belonged to my father and Uncle Jim. "...serious? No, I don't feel guilty. You think our wives aren't having the same thoughts right now? Have you. I changed my position so thatI was lying on the couch, my head on one of the pillows while staring atthe ceiling.What could I write a song about? I'd written about a lot of things, andthey all flashed through my mind. But none of them evoked the feelingthat usually came with the beginning of a new song. I thought about theother parts of my life. I had been through a lot this summer, could Iwrite about that?No. I couldn't find the inspiration there, either. "Mom! Come quick!" I heard Austin. More

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