Photo Credit: Sam Battaglia
It’s been a long couple of years, but I’m starting to feel like I’m getting back into the swing of this life. The last few months have been full of reminders about how important the human connections I’ve found are to me. When I’m home I long for mountains, rivers, new cities, battlefields, and even rest areas, but the folks along the way really mean the world to me. I couldn’t pick one single location to ever stay too stationary, so maybe I’ll just live in them all. As I’ve been hitting the southern interstates the last few days I’ve been reflecting on so many of my friends. From Ames to Los Alamos and Sacramento to Tampa there are so many humans who hold space in my head and heart.
There have been too many visits (and French 75s) in Salina to possibly keep them all sorted. But I was pretty well sold from the crawfish boil I first played. The last time in town we had to have broken the weight limit for that front porch. I’d swear there were 30 folks on it. Guitars, cello, jimbe, neighborhood cats, and so much laughter you couldn’t hear a single instrument. I remember thinking “THIS is my job.” I’ve had a grin on my face since that evening a few weeks ago and I might be pining for Kansas a bit.
“Well, you’ve pretty much met all the best scumbags in Salina, Kanas.” - K. J.
Following a show in Rapid City we collected our group and prepared pork chops for a grill as a light but determined sprinkle began. The garage lounge was filled with stories and laughter. Stories of cherished vinyl collections and how they were acquired. Tales of concerts attended and Black Hills driving adventures still ring in my mind as if it were yesterday, but I need to get back to the hills.
“How about you tell me and we’ll both know?” R.R.
In Memphis we grilled in the backyard where bamboo has been thriving so well that they donate it to the pandas at the zoo. We sat on the patio and talked about our journey of music discovery since our youth. Discussions of Texas infrastructure and urban gentrification were punctuated by Memphis gunshots across the city. Chris shared some of his vinyl collection while we played a few games of chess over a few old fashioned. I reckon we’ve got a Mississippi River run to do in 2023.
These adventures are so much more than shows. I’ve run out of fingers and toes to count the places that feel like home. I’m very grateful that so many of you have allowed me to pop into your lives and communities over the years. For everyone who has willingly let me be your couch kid a few times a year, THANK YOU. The time with you is never as plentiful as I’d like, but we sure do have a grand time with what we have. And to those who have helped make sure that my vehicle woes didn’t prevent me from getting to my shows, THANK YOU. Y’all keep me going.
This machine is powered by one cup of coffee and one gallon of fuel at a time!
