As much as I regret missing out on the miserable torment of Wyoming winter and it’s annual Hard Drinking & Depression Festival, I do feel that migrating with the birdies to Mexico has been a responsible decision. Katy, our dog Roadie, and I are managing. I have joined a mariachi band to make ends meet. We play nightly beneath the cathedral on the town square for tips and mezcal. Katy says I look hot in the mariachi pants. Perhaps I’ll wear them for this summer’s northern gigs. Keep warm and cheerful, friends.