Yesterday I was reminded of my father's lie detector and how, as kids, we got into plenty of trouble. Orange fights. Dummy pranks. Jail time, even. But the kind of trouble I love now is the kind that gets you thinking, listening, doubting what you thought you knew.
Like when you move your speakers an inch and everything changes. When you swap a power cable and suddenly there’s space in the cymbals. When a friend comes over, shrugs, and says, “You’re nuts,” then sits down and forgets to breathe.
That kind of trouble is why I keep doing this. Why we all do. Not for proof, but for presence. Not because we’re trying to win anything—but because we can’t help chasing the moment when it all just… works.
And man, when it does?
There’s no other trouble I’d rather be in.
