Maxwell Drummey

I’m sitting here. At this desk. At MY desk. Listening to music and tallying up the disappointment. There are the typical items found on a desk. Plus a hat (disappointingly won at an In & Out Burger promotional roulette where the clear score was a burger, animal style), a two-thirds empty bottle of Irish whiskey, a AAA tote bag filled with the disassembled pieces of my sleep apnea machine, and an old bottle of lotion. My toothbrush is on the floor I’m pretty sure and I’m in no hurry to pick it up. The warm embrace of a comfortable home for many reasons missing for me on this overcast morning home. I hadn’t been home in days. I haven’t been home in what seems like years. I’m not even sure there’s a home to have been to at all. 

I feel like I’ve been on a harrowing vacation. I guess in a way that’s how you can describe life. The details get fuzzy over time. The sentiments calloused. And there’s always one more mountain top before home. 

I want a real vacation! Not like a hyper-exploitative, climb these ruins, swim with these dolphins, ride this assorted beach vehicle, visit this sad market full of shit you don’t need but feel guilty not buying, watch our native dance while you enjoy your frozen enchiladas and salt-rimmed margaritas, swim-up bar type resort thing. OK, maybe a swim up bar from time to time. But really being able to afford like a dope romantic vacation to Europe, or Japan;  the trip of a lifetime.

And GODDAMN IT! if Maxwell Drummey’s silly little muffed-up ditty, named for the very phenomenon for which I so desperately pine, “Vacation,” didn't move me to emotions. I bet a vacation with Maxwell Drummey would involve wanting to go to Tahiti really bad but deciding The Tiki Room at Disney would be pretty cool too. 

Look out for this song on Drummey’s new album titled, 10 Perfect Songs, because why the fuck not!? 

And not to be outdone by that whore time herself, Drummey is dropping Gay For Yoda, a totally separate whole ‘nother solo record that just autocorrected to “Gary” for Yoda, which sounds potentially AS homoerotic but honestly just doesn’t have the same joi de vivre.