It’s cold and dark outside, and perfectly clear. I wanted to jump and grab one of the stars. But I’m nestled into this 300-year-old cottage typing by candlelight. It’s autumn and everything smells good. I am in Port Jefferson on the north shore of Long Island, New York. I landed at Kennedy airport late this afternoon to speak at Infant Jesus Catholic Church. It’s been a blessed, unpredictable day.

Clark picked me up from the airport and we trekked across Long Island in rush hour traffic. Clark has a voice like the guy on “Prairie Home Companion” on NPR, which I usually listen to when I drive around on the weekends. So here we are stuck in traffic and I feel like I am talking to the radio, and it’s talking back.

Clark is a music teacher at an excellent Catholic school. You can tell he just loves music and loves his students. I wish I had him as a teacher. Just talking to him I felt smarter.

When we pulled into the parking lot, I could hear a punk band through the brick walls. I knew it was going to be a good night. I walked inside and these guys, Patent Pending, were tearing it up. It wasn’t a traditional opening act for the Mass, but it worked.

After speaking to so many large groups, it’s refreshing to be with a more intimate group. There’s no frenzy about Matt-from-MTV, but a chance for me to make some new friends. There were so many great people to meet. The evening ended with a jam band warming up the place. They were all talented musicians and enjoyed music more than being rock stars.

Granny next door invited me over for tea an hour ago. She told me that the original room in the house was built in the 1600′s. My house in Phoenix is 30-years-old, and I am pushing to get our neighborhood to become certified historic. She shared about all her children and grandchildren. For 71, she still has a lot of fire.

This is another wild night. I’ve gone from the desert to New York City, from a punk band to the Mass, and now I am on Little House on the Prairie.