Keep-Alive
There’s a guy in my band at School of Rock – funny, good taste in music, takes the playing seriously without being precious about it. We get along well. After rehearsal we pack up our gear, say “good one tonight,” and go home. We’ve done this for months.
I know what he does for a living; we’ve talked about it in the green room on performance nights. But I don’t know much beyond that. I don’t know anything about his life outside the room where we play music together. And I’m pretty sure he’d say the same about me.