I Should Introduce Myself

Leaving makes everything more meaningful. When you’re leaving you even cherish the annoying things.  Everything is special because it won’t be there tomorrow. I can see how that might be disturbing for some people, but I love how it deepens the experience. Increases awareness. Living in a way that I am frequently leaving, everything has that shine to it. Pay attention to every detail, take nothing for granted. 

In every town that we go to, people say they have the worst allergens in the country.  

Hays, why are you so far away?  We left at the ripe hour of 9:30pm last night.  This morning I am ready to burn through Kansas.  We had a hell of a time finding a motel in Eureka last night - all were full but two.  One motel's front desk person's hairy leg could be seen pointing out of a bed, along with very loud, enthusiastic snoring.  We rang the bell several times and David even shouted.  The other motel had a buzzer and a little lady who complained about us buzzing her...we said we'd shop around and then left.  Grumpster in the dumpster.  We wound up waking the sleeping man, who charged us $50 and let us check out at 1pm.  Win.

We slept on the front porch and it was cool and breezy. I woke up next to a pile of broken glass beneath gigantic sunny trees swaying peacefully. I sat up in my sleeping bag and a business man waved at me. It was 11am in Kansas City. 


We're in upstate NY, camping.  A gorgeous place to look at but good lawd, the highway screams all night.  Yesterday I was still in the shape of the van seat long after the drive was over.  I went for a run and now I am me-shaped again.

He sat at a table with his total bombshell of a girlfriend. Neither of them said much of anything- to each other or anyone else. She brought out the sex in everything. Even the slimy bricks of the green room wall looked more attractive with her sitting beneath them. I formed an opinion about her and I was wrong - which is great.

We’ve been working on so many new songs in the van. Banjo in the back seat, mandolin in the front.. It makes everything more magic.

Afterwards we stay at the table talking with Alex about Austin, touring, 9 to 5ers.  The bar tender finished wiping down the tables and unplugged the machines.  Alex drew a map on the table with his finger, directions to the Rat House from Pancos Mexican Restraunt, the only other place that we have been in Kansas City.

No wifi here, a blessing in the midst of the work we 'have' to do 'right now'.  David and I slept on the front porch of a beautiful KC house.  We laid down as the sun was coming up and life began to stir into a commotion.  Now we're at the Broadway Cafe and there's a tattoed man outside with a Chihuahua under his arm.  I couldn't make this stuff up.

Waking up dog barking
In David's face
Confused
I'm on a couch
Shut up morgan
Can we wake up
Kevin now?
Wisking Waffle batter
So close to the station
Toys or trucks
There are always sirens going by

We'll leave Denver a day early so the drive isn't as long.  Meet up Wednesday afternoon, glue a bunch of CDs and cook dinner.  Today there is no rushing.  We'll park the cars at the Warehouse, then swing by my apartment (I forgot my passport), hit Steiner's on the way out and grab the microphone.  I-70 for 600 miles.  Find a motel when you get tired.  

He was playing Ski-Jump.  Pre-digital.  Less of an angle.  The ball floated almost weightless, catapulting off of the crumbling pop bumbers.  The points climbed up like the gallons on an old gas pump, shifting the wooden box on it's skinny metal legs.  I was at Cyborg, newer and flashy.  Replay at 3,900,000 - keep hitting that left ramp.  The game has a glitch, thinks it's multi-ball, 20 second window to hit the jackpot.  You have the extra ball lit, ya see that?  Toggle the the side with the flippers.  It felt like Mickey in my corner, pep talking and sizing up the machine.  I only had 760,000 after the second ball but on the last one I kept looping the ramp, each a b-line up the robotic spiral, lights kicking on everywhere.  The madness couldn't have lasted more than a minute, I looked at the display.  End of ball.  Magnet bonus: 300,00.  Cyborg Loop x10: 100,000.  Dual gate open: 750,00.  Total.  9,700,00.  I heard that thick metallic click.  He looked up from his game on the older machine and gave a barely noticable nod of approval.  

She's sitting on the steps after our gig and I race across the street with my snifter of Chardonnay, breaking the rules.  She's crying and we have a Real Moment Together - thank goodness, for I was getting thirsty.  I want to tell her that she's all-powerful, and she's most of the reason I like this place so much, and it's going to be ok.  That if she's not happy she can move, she's never stuck, she can always change and leave and grow and learn and this is only the beginning.  But I sit and listen with one hand on her shoulder, one around the base of my glass, and I can't help but like this moment.  

We just made dinner by a lake in an Indiana state park.  The highways of (my) youth.  It's been a truly great day.  Woke up on a beautiful farm and fell into a song hole right after breakfast.  Every song we played was alive and we gobbled them up one after another, relishing the tastes and textures inside.  It's easy to get in the zone right now and stay there.  Hard to remember to stretch and eat and go outside.

Now, moving on down the road, I am so coated with music that I can't hear anything but melody - by the marsh, in bed before sleep, in the moments of quiet on the in-betweens.  Listen to what they're saying.  It's not about you or me.  Listen and write down what I hear if I have a pen handy. We are always pen-less in times of need.

...And then we had breakfast in WaKeeney.  Mediocre but satisfying.