It’s just a flesh wound!
It’s the Holiday season. The time of family, reflection, memories, and laughter. I realize that by writing about the holidays, the timeless feel to this journal entry will be shot, but maybe it ends up in the ‘holiday’ section of the book. The chapter devoted to all the holidays I missed while on the road. Now, I am getting reflective and emotional.
As I sit in the dark at my in-law’s house writing this, I can’ help but appreciate the quiet and start to explore the sentiments of days past in my mind. It’s really funny how events that are supposed to be memorable can fall flat and how the days of stress and less-than-desirable conditions will be the ones most talked about.
One year the band was promised that Thanksgiving night would be one of the biggest bar nights of the year. We packed our sometimes-trusty green van and trailer, and set out across a cold Southeastern Thursday up to Little Rock Arkansas to play at the legendary Juanita’s. I miss that place. The food was on point, and they took great care of the bands. Oh, to play there one more time. Anywho, we were all a little torn about the gig, but when you need the money and the fanbase, you follow the leads. Being away from my family and ‘true’ home in Virginia was always hard for me, even though my rent was cheap ($125 a month!) and the band was cooking, I stayed homesick a LOT. Combine that with a holiday, and I certainly wasn’t happy. I don’t think any of us were. We opted to stop for lunch in West Memphis, Arkansas, which is just west of, well, Memphis. It’s a tough place, with not much there but some chemical plants and a Waffle House showcasing a late night staff working on their egg boiling techniques.
We opted for the truck stop because I think that was the only food option, or maybe we were sick of our daily food intake being sandwiched between a bun and supersized. Either way, we sat at the lonely, worn Formica tables in the restaurant, sort of taking in the sad scene playing around us. There were truck drivers peppered around the room and us. God only knows the stories of the other people in the room. A friendly waitress came out and after lifting our spirits a bit, we all decided to get the turkey special, which was the full ‘homecooked meal’ sort of option. Truthfully, it wasn’t bad, but now we were even more homesick.
We arrived at Juanita’s and did our usual set up/soundcheck/fajitas routine. As we walked through the venue or peeked our heads out of the green room, one thing was abundantly clear. This was NOT going to be a record-setting night of ticket sales. Once again we were the victim. I don’t know if the agent or club owner needed to fill the calendar and needed our warm bodies, or if they genuinely wanted us to be part of the big night, but either way, there was no big payoff.
I honestly don’t remember if we had more shows to play on that run or not. If we did, they were probably fantastic, but the bad ones stick out more than the good sometimes. Although seemingly nothing ‘lined up’ for us that day, as I reflect, I think it did.
We were a band, which means we were a family, and we were together. So check that box. We ate a traditional meal together, so that box was checked as well. Then we played music in front of a few people, several of which knew who we were. To recap, we did the thing we love for people who may have liked it, we were paid some money, which lines up with ‘Working in your field of passion’ (sounds like a Sting lyric). We made a few memories and made it home safely. More boxes.
When we are in the middle of it all, we don’t realize how lucky we really are. I am still in the middle of transition from full-time touring icon to part-time icon. In the middle of the shift, the brain goes into different modes: adaptation, survival, and (hopefully) innovation. One or all of these means the brain is on fire all the time, and whether focused or not, there are moments lost within the stress of the moment. I worry about a lot of things: providing for the family, raising kids, keeping the lights on. It can overshadow everything if you let it.
Family trips are a great example of this. Heck, the holidays in general. We plan, we execute, we stress. We cook, we shop, we stress. We wrap a present the wrong way, or mess up a traditional dish, we stress. We forget the reasons we’redriving halfway across the country to see family. That casserole you messed up may become a new dish of legend. I have become a better present wrapper, but my early days were spent making a tape and paper ball that looked more like a work of modern art than a wrapped present. It didn’t matter once the paper was off. Don’t stress. There are smiles and memories in there.
I suppose the term for all of this would be mindfulness? I’m asking because I don’t know. Be in the moment, look for the good, and be aware of your actions and reactions. I tend to stress over the things I shouldn’t, and I know that worry carries over into life. Hidden within the day to day are beautiful moments worth remembering if you open your gaze to a different place.
The new year brings that feeling of renewal and turning pages. I hope the pages all turn the right way for you this coming year and beyond. Life is short, and there is no reset button. All we have is this moment, for the next is not guaranteed. Of course, this brings up so many questions, the most glaring of which is ‘Why get in a van and drive hours on end to play music?’, to which I would respond ‘Why not?’
Enjoy each moment and be good to each other out there. And go see the band. They did a lot to get there.
