My friend Pam is coming up from Tampa with her new beau today and The Church is playing at the Variety Playhouse tonight. These are things that make me very happy today. Pam and I have not seen each other in five years so I'm looking forward to that a wee bit more than the show.
Packing is going slowwwww - I hate moving. I have decided to refrain from taking even the small kit I usually travel with on shows. My lappy, Cubase, Absynth and my work headphones can assuage my muse for awhile. So, I pack everything but a mountaineering pack filled with clothes, camping gear, snowboard, and fishing tackle. I pack. And pack. My 4am runs to Kroger for boxes have almost put me on a first name basis with the stock clerks.
It looks like I'll take the high road, I-40 because I hate driving Texas, and my time. I've driven cross country to or from LA four times and ridden twice but every time it was for work and so was a rushed journey. Spring will be springing in April so this time I will take it slow and enjoy the trip, camping along the way and taking a side trip or two.
There is a feeling of uncertainty that has been dormant for some time. Unnerving at first it develops into a familiarity and I begin to remember the point behind this trip and everyone before it. I have missed it - this feeling that reasserts itself more and more every day. The unknown outcome, unfamiliar terrain, the faces of strangers - the familiarity of the unfamiliar, the certainty of the uncertain outcome. A Quixotic unknown harkens me back to treehouse adventures when everything beyond our own back yard was a foreign land waiting to be explored in the upcoming epic adventure that would be our adulthood. It was a time when a visit to the little blond girl in the adjacent neighborhood, a princess from another kingdom, required a journey across strange foreboding lands. It as a time when friends were fellow adventurers, comrades in arms whose sense of adventure was as unbounded as our own. Quixotic, indeed, when so many forget it was always supposed to be an adventure. An adventure led by the adults we were to become.
TTFN, Cheers, Peace Out, and Piss Off!
Packing is going slowwwww - I hate moving. I have decided to refrain from taking even the small kit I usually travel with on shows. My lappy, Cubase, Absynth and my work headphones can assuage my muse for awhile. So, I pack everything but a mountaineering pack filled with clothes, camping gear, snowboard, and fishing tackle. I pack. And pack. My 4am runs to Kroger for boxes have almost put me on a first name basis with the stock clerks.
It looks like I'll take the high road, I-40 because I hate driving Texas, and my time. I've driven cross country to or from LA four times and ridden twice but every time it was for work and so was a rushed journey. Spring will be springing in April so this time I will take it slow and enjoy the trip, camping along the way and taking a side trip or two.
There is a feeling of uncertainty that has been dormant for some time. Unnerving at first it develops into a familiarity and I begin to remember the point behind this trip and everyone before it. I have missed it - this feeling that reasserts itself more and more every day. The unknown outcome, unfamiliar terrain, the faces of strangers - the familiarity of the unfamiliar, the certainty of the uncertain outcome. A Quixotic unknown harkens me back to treehouse adventures when everything beyond our own back yard was a foreign land waiting to be explored in the upcoming epic adventure that would be our adulthood. It was a time when a visit to the little blond girl in the adjacent neighborhood, a princess from another kingdom, required a journey across strange foreboding lands. It as a time when friends were fellow adventurers, comrades in arms whose sense of adventure was as unbounded as our own. Quixotic, indeed, when so many forget it was always supposed to be an adventure. An adventure led by the adults we were to become.
TTFN, Cheers, Peace Out, and Piss Off!
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
That sense of renewal and wonderment will be all too keen as you blast along the 40 (easily the best choice, IMHO) through the deserts of New Mexico and Arizona and finally see the high desert stretch of California unfolding before your very eyes. Six trips later it's still a religious experience for me...plus I like AZ and NM a lot anyway. I never thought I'd "get" the so-called "beauty of the desert", but although I'd still never live there (he says presumptuously), I now certainly do get it...
Was the Church show all you'd hoped? Is Steve clean? Details!