Before you ask – the answer is “yes”. a. Tom Collins is the great-great-grandson of Tom Collins, creator of the eponymous gin cocktail. Other notable relations, near and distant, include British monarch Anne Boleyn, second-man-on-the-moon Buzz Aldrin, fictional detective Hercule Poirot, and saxophonist Clarence Clemons. But here we are, in the present moment, the only time that actually exists – according to Zen Buddhism (and The Stooges) – and a. Tom Collins walks among us; taking note of the wilderness of horrors and occasional blips of joy that are this waking Life – and turning them into boozy, moody, stomp-and-wrangle-worthy anthems of the Now Times. With inexhaustible insight and a smoky voice, Collins slithers, smooths and seduces his notes into your skull and soul; lilting and tilting the moments between awareness and suffering; the hot potato game of tragic flaws; leaning on and propping up love, alternately. When not hammering at a piano and caterwauling the damnable Truth with his amazing band, a. Tom Collins enjoys raising rare and endangered cacti (and select other succulents) in his sprawling conservatory, non-competitive baton-fighting, and sitting alone in a darkened room smoking bidis and watching 16mm loops of WWI newsreels.