One more from Jobe.

Emailing anyone under, say, 30? 35? is like giving large bills to a panhandler: hopeful, but best to remain detached from the results. Now that I think about it, I've probably seen more mileage out of the large bills deal.

A few weeks ago I emailed Jobe to ask if there was anything I could do in making/releasing these videos that might be better for him in one way or another. I thought he might have some social media perspective I don't. I haven't heard back. I don't take it personally. And if I did, just paying a tiny bit of attention to the little bits that Jobe reveals about himself and where he's at right now would shame me into right thinking.

When I was Jobe's age I never called my mom. I thought it was an act of kindness– I know I vexed her; my dad and siblings would tell me that she worried about me, about what I was and wasn't doing, about my safety and my soul. So when my life was the most invigorating, I hid it from my mom. Now I have my own headstrong and distant offspring to muse upon. Karma's a bitch.

In this video Jobe provides a very personal song introduction, but his lyrics, which I can actually make out on this one, stay with me: unlike Jobe, I had my own mother in my life long into adulthood to love, and to vex. Like Jobe, her contact's still in my phone. I don't know whose phone put out that clear "ding" as he introduces the song, who was sending a message to whom, but I know what thoughts crossed my mind.

That's Dayton Olsen with the perfect sparse improv on harmonica. And Jobe Fortner on vocals and guitar. Here's "Call Me Back".

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