Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Cary Brothers just yelled at me and said I have to write a good blog because Jim Bianco wrote a good blog. Nothing like a little interpersonal competition and comparison to start your day off right. So here we are. And here I am in the back lounge of a 12-sleeper bus with my headphones on trying to think of any way possible that I could sum up this experience for readers that aren't here. (just realized that there's no music playing in my headphones. I'm just keeping them on. I think they help me concentrate? I don't know. This is a new phenomenon for me.) I'm also trying to figure out how I could possibly put this experience more eloquently and viscerally than Rachael did in her last blog. The truth is I can't. She cast light on this motley crew of characters perfectly and anything I did to try and build on that would really just be ripping her off. And I'm no ripper-off-er. So I'll try to give y'all (thanks, Texas) my perspective on things. Not that you care or it matters, but because this experience is truly unique and nostalgic and incredible. One of those things that makes you want to write it all down, so you can make sure that no moments slip thru the cracks, though they always do. But we're thankful for them anyway. Thank you Jack and Coke. Thank you gas stations and truck stops for somehow being beacons of comfort. Thank you Cary and Johnny Merch for pulling that rickshaw in Corpus Christi. Priceless. Just priceless. Thank you Corpus Christi in general. Thank you late night conversations and junk food. And Doritos in particular. Thank you bad movies. They're sometimes better than the good ones. But let's be honest - either take up a couple of hours of a long drive, so thanks for that. Thank you ALL songwriters for putting your guts out there. Thank you music lovers who make this tour and these artists feel like we make sense to someone. Thank you hecklers at shows that give us the opportunity to show off a little fuck you. Thank you Borat for some great quotes that have accompanied this band of humans for a thousand miles or more. Thank you for the moments where I stood alone by the side of the stage and watched everyone make music together on stage and I welled up with some sort of pride or excitement or both for being allowed the opportunity to be a part of this whole thing. I flew in to Houston by myself, and met up with a crew of people that had been loving each other for 5 weeks now, long before I came into the mix. So if I'm really honest, I would admit to having flashbacks to being the new kid in junior high and figuring out who the cool kids were and just really wanting to belong. But then I found out that these cool kids were also silly and strange and so so smart and hilarious and musical and sweet and loving most of the moments of this whole ride. And they made me feel cool too. So thanks for that, guys. See you next year. (I'll probably see you before that, but it's more dramatic if I end it the other way.) So.. See you next year. (wink)