You’ve Got Three Hours to Live.

Would you be okay with that?

Seriously, if you knew the clock was ticking, and you had little more than the length of a Kubrick movie to roll over the highlights of your life…

What conversations do you still need to have? What burned bridges would you want to repair? And would you really be able to look back and see the good you’ve brought to the world?

We experienced something like this first hand when Lori nearly died last year. The folks on that JetBlue flight experienced it for three hours. Lefsetz tells us that, with all the peril around us, folks in L.A. are on the edge.

Life is too short to hold yourself back.

A few weeks ago, I told you that you had work to do.

So, if you’ve been bickering with your bass player, fire his ass and start something on your own. If you’ve been waiting for the Magical Booking Agent Fairy to call you with a slate of gigs, hop on the phone yourself and plow through the zone strategy. If you’re staring at a map of your region and wondering where to play, touch base with your ten biggest fans and rally up some house concerts.

That way, if your three hour warning really does come, you’ll be totally ready for it.

They say that nobody on their death bed wishes they had worked more… except, perhaps, a working musician.

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