Notes from the Road – The Age of Entitlement

Notes from the Road – The Age of Entitlement

When I’m off the road and working at home on new material, recording, rehearsing, etc., I spend some time trying to work through piles of stuff that I collect at conferences and other places, reading what seems useful and tossing out what isn’t.  In a pile of material from past Folk Alliance conferences past I came across the May/June 2009 Issue of Elmore Magazine.  I took a few minutes to scan the pages and let me tell you, this is a rag worth taking a look at!  Check them out at www.ElmoreMagazine.com.

A couple of articles particularly caught my attention as they dealt with subjects that fall into my “pet peeves” or “personal soapbox” categories.  First was the regular column of Carl Gustafson, “Kickin’ in Your Stall” titled “the unwarping of entitlement.”  The theme of the piece is a rant about what we as a culture now expect from life, i.e., what we think life at a minimum owes us in today’s world.  He points out that in our modern society we enjoy unparalleled comforts and conveniences (the crummiest jalopy sure beats a horse; there is no such thing as wearing hand-me-downs these days; etc.).  In his words: “Our culture is a fireworks display of opulence and arrogance that would retro-stun the imagination of every two-legged creature back to Adam or amoeba, depending on your beliefs.”

Gustafson doesn’t feel much sympathy for folks in general in this economic climate.  In his view, the average musician has always been and always will be an expert at surviving in lean times (a constant condition for them) by managing expectations.  “I hear radio interviews where some poor bastard is crying that he has to take a job beneath his education level in order to get by.  Of course to him get by means not having to sell his boat, second car, lake cabin and having his kids actually work to get through college.  It may, God forbid, mean 13-year-old Suzy-Q has to keep the gap in her teeth until she’s old enough to get her own job and doesn’t get that boob-job that’s been the fashion these days for a graduation present.”  Tough words, but there’s a whole lot of truth in them.  I’m constantly shocked at the number of kids driving new expensive cars in high school and college that their parents obviously bought for them, setting a standard of living for them that the economy may not support in coming years.  And, people that I know don’t have the cash resources are living in houses, driving cars, dining at restaurants and taking trips that I know has to be going on plastic or some other form of “maybe someday I can pay for it, but right now I want it” currency.

There was a time when a good life was having the opportunity, with hard work, to support a family with food on the table and a roof over head (even if it was only one or two rooms) that didn’t leak.  Everything else was a plus.  Now it’s iPods, iPads, iPhones, HDTV connected to a vast array of cable or satellite gathered channels, stylish new cars (financed or leased), large houses (even the smallest hovel is grand compared to what was the norm 75 years ago), foreign vacations, Starbucks coffee, smoothies and name brand clothes.  Anything less is considered abject poverty and cause for serious depression / shame / anger / blame.

This sense of entitlement is revealed in our general tendency to avoid responsibility and look to others, principally the government, to extract us from the mess we, at least in some significant part, created for ourselves and to blame others, principally the government and anyone financially successful, for whatever financial distress we experience.  We borrowed 120% of the value of the house we were buying when any idiot with a command of third grade math could tell that when the payments reached their peak we would not be able to make them based on our income.  But when that day came it was, of course, the bank’s fault for lending us too much money.  We make choices and are largely unwilling to pay the price of those choices.  We are Enititled.  Our own government, both parties, tells us that the solution to our current recession (I think it’s a depression, but what do I know) is freeing up credit so we can borrow more and buy more.  Maybe I’m just an idiot, but isn’t that how we got here in the first place?

I’m as guilty as the next – I’ve clung far too much to material things over the years and I’m trying mightily to cure myself.  Fortunately I kicked the debt addiction in the last economic malaise we weathered and don’t have that monkey riding my back this time around.  Now I’m in the process of shearing down my burden of accumulated stuff, most of which I never needed in the first place – extra music gear, hobby gear (fishing rods by the bundle, etc.) and other assorted “driftwood” I’ve picked up along the way.  I’m trying to simplify, economize and focus on those things which are truly important and preserve those things which I truly value.

The second article in Elmore dovetails with the first and actually ties into my recent musings on the treatment of original or unfamiliar music by today’s society.  In “I Me Mine – The Economic Incentive Plan,” Alex Lyras berates the digital phenomena of “free music” as one of the symptoms of our “Entitlement culture.”  He argues that the immediate gratification of digital music available for theft through file sharing platforms and simple copying has devalued music as an art form.  While I see many benefits of the digital age of music in terms of the ability of artists to have their music heard without the backing of the commercial music industry, Lyras strikes a chord with me on the “ripping and burning” phenomena that impacts independent artists on an even greater scale than it does the monied music mainstream which has taken legal action to try to stop it.  I hope we all know better than to file share artists’ music on the internet or burn copies of their CDs for friends, family and neighbors.

Where Lyras connects with my prior musings on society’s trend to be indifferent towards music that hasn’t been played ad nauseum on commercial radio is when he quotes some philosophers that before now had escaped my attention.  Adorno and Horkheimer, key members of the Frankfurt School, coined the term “culture industry” in their book Dialectic of Enlightenment, 'The Culture Industry: Enlightenment as Mass Deception' in 1944.  Lyras explains their theory “. . . that popular culture was manufacturing standardized entertainment to manipulate the hoi poloi (us!) into complacency; the easier it is to consume these popular pleasures, the more docile and content we all become.  They admonished that mass produced products posed a direct threat to the higher arts by manufacturing false desires (“creating demand”) that mass produced, standardized products could then satisfy.  The toxic side effect is an atrophied sense of quality.”  WOW!  Now THAT says a mouthful to me and, to a large extent, provides an attractive, though tragic, answer to my question posed at the outset of my ponderings on original music - What is it that makes original music less instead of more?  DISCLAIMER: this is still NOT intended to apply to those exceptional classic songs and traditional folk songs we all know and love.  To the extent they arose out of the “Culture Industry,” let’s just say that even a blind pig finds an acorn now and then!

Lyras drives his point home with a quote from Chrissie Hynde, the leader of the rock / new wave band The Pretenders.  “Rock used to be a secret between the artist and the audience.  Now, it’s turned into a sport.  Musicians are hitting gyms because image is more important than content.”   I think we’ve all seen that happening in many, many phases of the arts – and in society in general.  We have become a very image, appearance conscious crowd as a whole.  That’s one thing I admire about nudists – they accept each other as they are without hiding behind adornments, disguises and facades.

In any event, Elmore Magazine is definitely recommended reading.  It covers the art of music across all genres (except, perhaps classical, opera, etc.) and is bi-monthly (six issues for $18).  Another new music magazine, available only on line, is Driftwood Magazine (http://driftwoodmagazine.com).  This comes from the former editors of Dirty Linen, a great print magazine which seems to have gone down the tubes.  Driftwood is heavy on music reviews in folk, world, roots, alternative, rock, and indie music.  I’ve just gotten my first weekly digest edition which features an article on Cheryl Wheeler and reviews of releases by Audrey Auld, Grant-Lee Phillips, Peter Case, The String Cheese Incident and Tom Fisch.  Subscription is (at this point) free so check it out.

Doug
"It's not how far you've come, it's what you've done with the miles"

Doug Spears

36 Interlaken Road

Orlando, Florida 32804
407-257-4242

dcsnole@yahoo.com

www.dougspearsmusic.com
www.reverbnation.com/dougspears
www.concertsinyourhome.net/artists/dougspears
www.youtube.com/nativetroubadour
www.facebook.com/dougspears
www.myspace.com/dougspears
www.sonicbids.com/dougspears

INTERESTING FLORIDA FACTS:

 

·        There are 882 islands or “keys” in the Florida Keys which are large enough to be recorded on the maps of the U.S. Coast and Geodetic Survey.

·        The total recorded length of all streams in the Sunshine State is 10,550miles. 

·        The St. Johns River is the longest river in Florida. Its length is recorded variously as 273 miles long (U.S. Geological Survey) to 318 miles long (State Board of Conservation). The reason for this confusion is that the river’s headwaters are so ill-defined that it is impossible to determine with any certainty the river’s point of origin.

 ·        Florida has 4,510 islands ten acres or larger in size, which is the second highest total in the United States.  Only Alaska has more islands.

What is it that makes original music less instead of more?

Notes from the Road – What is it that makes original music less instead of more?

One of the things I contemplated as I traveled from gig to gig on this most recent tour is the reluctance or disinterest of the general public when it comes to seeking out or listening to new original music. In this context I’m using the term “original music” to mean music written by the performer which has not received extensive commercial radio play and is, therefore, generally unfamiliar to the listener – i.e., new, different, etc. In those gigs I played which were not true listening rooms (places people come to listen to music, not just to talk and drink) I invariably had someone ask if I played any songs by (insert name of mainstream artist whose songs are played twice in any given hour on commercial radio). The answer is, of course, “I can, but I don’t.” It’s not what I do or what I have of value to share with an audience.

Now, in the folk music tradition I would understand this completely if it were a case of people wanting to participate, sing along, dance, etc. However, that wasn’t the case. These requests generally came from folks who were listening to the music “with one ear” while socializing, etc.

It seems to me that the majority of our society has come to treat music unlike any other art form. Whereas we will not usually read the same poem 20 times in a week, watch the same movie 20 times in a month, read the same book 20 times in a year or sit and carefully absorb the same painting or photograph 20 times in our lifetime, we will routinely listen to the same song or group of songs multiple times in a single day and then go out to hear “live music” hoping to hear those very same songs performed by someone else who will make them sound exactly the same as what was on the radio. Even then we don’t stop and listen to it to the music, but continue our conversations over it as loudly as necessary to relegate it to mere white noise in the background. Why is that?

Why is “live music” in a venue considered preferable when it simply consists of a commercial radio playlist performed by a band which may or may not perform it well? Why do people prefer venues with live music when they go primarily to drink and socialize rarely focusing on the music itself? Why not just have the radio on, a jukebox or karaoke in the corner?

Now, don’t get me wrong – I love the work of Jimmy Buffett, James Taylor, The Eagles, Willie Nelson, Merle Haggard and the current parade of performing songwriters of that ilk (those that truly are songwriters) as much as anyone. I’ve spent my share of time playing their songs for loud disinterested bar crowds too. And, I begrudge them nothing of their financial success – good for them, truly! But at some point it begins to feel like commercial radio, Nashville and the established music industry (emphasis on “industry”) has trained us as a society to behave as sheep. They tell us what to listen to, determine for us what is “good” and who has “talent,” and we simply swallow that without leaving room for anything else, i.e., the independent artist plying his craft on the back roads, in the small listening rooms and house concerts. We sit at home in our Lay-Z-Boys in front of our flat screen TVs and computers while the art, the true art, of live acoustic music passes us by.

Are we, at this point, simply a culture with an ever-shrinking attention span and increasing disinterest in music that doesn't immediately explain itself or with which we aren’t nauseatingly familiar as a consequence of continuous bombardment at the direction of a radio culture driven solely by sponsor dollars and the record industry’s dictates? I am a big fan of a large number of singer-songwriters whose CDs I own or whose mp3s are on my iPod. As much as I enjoy those songs I don’t listen to them multiple times in a month. And, I’m always most excited to hear something new from that artist. However, I seem to be in a diminishing minority in that regard and I suspect I’m preaching to the choir here inasmuch as those of you reading this are likely fans of the same music I am for the much same reasons.

Why is it that fewer and fewer people come out to hear something fresh and new in smaller, more intimate concerts by enormous songwriting talents like Chuck Brodsky, Jonathon Byrd, Jack Williams, Michael Smith, Cheryl Wheeler, etc. at a mere $10 - $25 per ticket when they continue to pay $65 - $125 and more to hear music they’ve heard incessantly on the radio being blasted at them in an arena with crummy acoustics in the midst of 10,000 screaming people who aren’t truly listening?

I’m observing, as I know all independent artists are, diminishing audiences, CD sales, etc. And, to the extent that I’m just not reaching people’s hearts and minds with my music so be it – that’s part of the deal and I have no complaints. However, since I get such gratifying feedback after every performance and I see it happening to artists, like the small sample I’ve listed above, whose work is so good that there is simply no debating the quality of what they offer, the smaller audiences, etc. must be the result of musical apathy or lethargy. Of course, the economy has its substantial effect, but it seems that money for the monthly house concert or small venue outings gets cut long before the daily smoothie, Starbucks latte and big name concert tickets. I find that disappointing, even disheartening.

What do you think? I’d love to hear your thoughts. It seems in these troubled economic times the trend would be different. It looks like people would be connecting to the grassroots, back road music that is out there. Let me hear from you!

All the Best –

Doug
"It's not how far you've come, it's what you've done with the miles"
Doug Spears
36 Interlaken Road
Orlando, Florida 32804
407-257-4242
dcsnole@yahoo.com
www.dougspearsmusic.com
www.reverbnation.com/dougspears
www.concertsinyourhome.net/artists/dougspears
www.facebook.com/dougspears
www.myspace.com/dougspears
www.sonicbids.com/dougspears
INTERESTING FLORIDA FACTS:
 
·There are 882 islands or “keys” in the Florida Keys which are large enough to be recorded on the maps of the U.S. Coast and Geodetic Survey.
·The total recorded length of all streams in the Sunshine State is 10,550miles. 
·The St. Johns River is the longest river in Florida. Its length is recorded variously as 273 miles long (U.S. Geological Survey) to 318 miles long (State Board of Conservation). The reason for this confusion is that the river’s headwaters are so ill-defined that it is impossible to determine with any certainty the river’s point of origin.
 ·Florida has 4,510 islands ten acres or larger in size, which is the second highest total in the United States.  Only Alaska has more islands.

Notes from the Road – Schedule for Fall / Winter 2010

Now that the SE Summer Tour is over I've emptied the travel trailer and am sealing it up for a couple of months.  I have no more camper friendly events until the Sunshine State Music Camp in November where I'll teach songwriting for the third year.  However, I have plenty of shows on the calendar between now and the end of the year and I will be adding more.  Check and see if any of these are in your neck o' da' woods and get it on your calendar.





I will be headed out to Mountain View, Arkansas in mid-October for the Southeast Region Folk Alliance Conference.  I was an official showcase artist last year out there and don't know what my status on that count is this year.  However, I already have a full plate of private showcases booked and I'm looking forward to the trip.  I've been working on bookings after I leave Mountain View and head east.  I'm hoping to pick up something for Sunday night, perhaps in Memphis or Nashville and probably hang around Nashville on Monday.  On Tuesday I'll pick up Judy at the Tri-City airport outside of Johnson City, TN and we'll head to Mount Mitchell for a couple of days in the peak of the leaf change with friends who live there.  I've got a Wednesday gig there in Burnsville at the Mt. Mitchell Country Club.  For my return engagement, Chef Teo has planned a Florida Cracker dinner program in a separate dining area and my show will follow the meal - an ideal set up!  Friday we head down to Saluda for my return to The Saluda Inn and Wine Cellar.  This is a much better date and Joni is very pleased to have me returning for the fall season.  Saturday night is tentatively scheduled as a house concert in northern Georgia, but it is not confirmed as yet.

In November I head back out to Texas.  I'm waiting for my schedule to firm up before booking my flights so I know whether it makes more sense to fly into Houston or Austin.  Two shows are confirmed and several more are in the works.  The weekend days are not hard to book, its the week nights that are tough.  However, I have a number of musician buddies out there working on those and I'm looking for some "Dinner and a Song" gigs as well.

"Dinner and a Song" is the name put to smaller weekday house concerts by Fran Snyder of Concerts in Your Home.  Essentially, it is a brief, relaxing dinner gathering that feature music and conversation with a traveling artist. The host gathers 8 - 15 attendees for a low-effort dinner, followed by a short, unplugged concert in the living room. Attendees donate $5-10 each for the artist and also have the opportunity to purchase CDs after the performance. The host provides dinner and overnight lodging (guest room, etc.) for the artist.

Dinner and Song is perfect for you if: 1) you love the idea of house concerts but feel your space or number of friends is too small; 2)you’d like to have dinner parties but need a “Wow!” reason to do it; or, 3)you’d like to support traveling musicians and see them perform in a special environment - your house. These events are designed to minimize setup and preparation, so that you can have a wonderful, low-stress event on a weeknight - lasting only 90 minutes from start to finish.

I've done a number of this type show here in Florida over the years and am always available for them when I'm in your area. If you're anywhere near my routes of travel and would be interested in hosting a Dinner and a Song evening with me just let me know.  I'm a firm believer that its the quality of your audience, not the quantity which comprises it, that makes a show rewarding.

I left September open in my schedule intentionally.  Preparing for conferences like SERFA is a time consuming process.  I'll be recording a demo of some new songs at Gatorbone with Lis & Lon Williamson in September for Ron Litschauer to combine and master with some existing material.  This will be something fresh for me to give presenters and Folk DJs not only in Arkansas, but also in Memphis in February 2011.  Plus, there's writing, working on the presentation of new material, updating websites, preparing PR releases and all that other stuff that comes in between the joyous opportunities to share some songs with you guys.

So, that's how things sit for now.  Let me hear from you if you have shows you'd like for me to be part of in the coming months and on into 2011.  I'm always booking and looking for the next new gig.  Don't be shy!  And please stay in touch!

Doug
"It's not how far you've come, it's what you've done with the miles"
Doug Spears
36 Interlaken Road
Orlando, Florida 32804
407-257-4242
dcsnole@yahoo.com
www.dougspearsmusic.com
www.reverbnation.com/dougspears
www.concertsinyourhome.net/artists/dougspears
www.facebook.com/dougspears
www.myspace.com/dougspears
www.sonicbids.com/dougspears

Notes from the Road – The Journey Home

Saturday, August 14, 2010 –

And so it ends – another Southeastern US Gas Hog Tour is complete.  No flat tires or serious issues (other than that camper leak which it appears I’ve plugged) and some great shows with friends old and new.  You can’t ask for much more than that.

I woke this morning ready to get underway.  Even as the coffee is brewing I’m putting things away and getting the interior of the camper road ready.  By 10 am I’m hooked up and ready to travel.  On the way back from Asheville last night I put a couple of gallons of pricey NC gas in the tank, just enough to get me over into SC where I know prices will be 15 to 20 cents per gallon cheaper.

I roll southeast out of Hendersonville on I-26 and in less than a half hour I’m in South Carolina.  It’s cloudy, but not rainy, a pretty good day for driving.  Sure enough, gas in SC is $2.47 as opposed to $2.66 just 40 miles back.  I stop and top off the tank and motor on across South Carolina.  I usually play a show on this route in SC either in the St. George area or up near Columbia, but bookings didn’t work out for that this year.  All of the town names are familiar and I don’t need the Navagatrix to get me home from here.  However, I keep her tracking my progress with the sound off so I can gauge where I might want to stop for the night.  Because it’s slow going with the camper it would take me about 10 hours to get all the way home and that’s farther than I usually like to run in one day while towing the big rig.  Nevertheless, I’d like to get as close as possible so that I have as much of Sunday to recoup as I can.

Much of the time on the road I ride in silence.  It’s almost like meditation for me.  I can let my mind focus solely on the road and shut everything else out.  Or, I can mull over a single subject at a time – booking for upcoming months, song ideas, lyric refinements, stuff at home, etc.  Silence is a valuable thing to me and long distance driving affords me that luxury when I’m out on the road alone.

However, sometimes you need some tunes.  And, I’ve had great ones to listen to on this trip.  In the CD player has been The Claire Lynch Band “Whatcha Gonna Do”, Lis Williamson “Deep”, a collection of tunes by Frank Serio, photographer extraordinaire who has had the opportunity to co-write with many great writers, 3 Penny Acre’s new disc “Highway 71”, Stevie Coyle’s solo release “Ten-In-One” and some compilation CDs for variety.  On the iPod I’ve had Bill Morrissey (what an extraordinary writer), the new Merle Haggard CD “I Am What I Am” which I recommend, Jorma Kaukonen “River of Time” and “Blue Country Heart” (exceptional), smatterings of Guy Clark, Johnsmith, Jack Williams, Jonathon Byrd, Cheryl Wheeler, Allison Kraus, Mary Chapin Carpenter, all favorites of mine, and many more.  Song ideas, rhythms and melodies begin to percolate and I periodically turn off the music to sing into my little digital recorder I keep handy just for such inspirations

The haul across South Carolina is a long one.  You’re basically starting up in the northwest corner and driving all the way across to the southeast corner, so it takes a bit.  But the drive is easy, though traffic around Columbia gets a bit dicey.  And, of course, anytime someone pulls over for any reason everyone else has to slow to 20 mph and rubber neck hoping to get a glimpse of a gory wreck of some kind.  Rubber necking ought to be a capital offense with serious jail time attached!  However, I’m soon on I-95 and bearing down on Savannah.  Time to fill up again before crossing over into Georgia.

I roll on through the tidewater area of South Carolina with its vast expanses of waterways, grasses, birds and trees.  It’s about 3:00 or so as I approach Savannah and I know from past experience it’ll be 4 1/2 to 5 hours from there home at the “towing the camper” rate of speed, a lumbering 60 mph.  I’ll be in Jacksonville in 2 ½ hours.  I’m starting to think that stopping just 2 or 3 hours from home, incurring campground fees, etc. makes little sense.  Plus, I’d love to get all the way today, sleep at home tonight, see the family and have all day Sunday to rest.  Hmmmmm . . ..

Georgia’s on my mind as I roll I-95 through the Peach State.  My gas mileage is much improved as I’m now on relatively flat Interstate.  Back roads are much more interesting to drive, but when you want to get on home the Interstate is the way to go.  However, even with the convenience, speed and ease of the Interstate as a plus, the overwhelming collage of billboards is still irritating.  While I understand the economic, advertising value of billboards they are nevertheless a blight on mankind as a whole!  Georgia and Florida in particular have an over abundance of them that swallows the view like kudzu swallows the landscape.  No wonder folks never really see the true Florida!

As I pass Brunswick, Ga. my mind is made up – I’m going to tough it out and roll on to Orlando tonight!  It’s been a long day and my back and knees are complaining, but I just can’t see stopping when I’m going to be so close.  Onward!

I cross into Florida and breeze through Jacksonville.  Now I’m really on the home stretch.  A fast food dinner keeps me plowing ahead as I pass St. Augustine, Palm Coast, Ormond and Daytona where I connect with I-4 and turn southwest.  I’ve pushed the cruise control up to 65 mph. sacrificing gas mileage for speed.  DeLand, Deltona and Sanford slip by and I’m now about 30 mins from home sweet home.  My pessimistic side creeps in for a moment as I wonder if any of the trailer tires will decide that this is far enough and blow out causing me to have to change one in my exhausted and edging up on irritable condition.  However, I roll on through Lake Mary, Longwood and Altamonte without incident and turn off on Fairbanks.  I pull into my driveway just before 9 pm road weary, but so glad to be home.  And, I receive the welcome from family that I looked forward to so much.  A scotch is in my imminent future!

As I say, it was a good tour.  I did note the effect of the economy on the size of the audiences, their spending habits in terms of CDs, etc. and the availability of booking opportunities.  While I did better than break even financially, I earned substantially less than last year.  Part of that is due to my own failings in getting my booking done early resulting in a larger number of high risk gigs money-wise than should have been on the schedule.  Lesson learned.  However, I added many, many new names to my mailing list, sold more than 50 CDs’ and broke into new venues and areas where I had not previously played.  I was healthy for the whole trip.  Judy and the grandsons got to join me for part of it.  The weather, though warmer than desirable, was mostly good.  I had no calamitous events with either the truck or the camper despite covering better than 3,800 miles of at times challenging terrain.  And, I got to enjoy to true beauty, wonder and freedom of the southeast portion of this great country that we live in.  You know, the more I think about it, it was a GREAT tour!  See you down the road.

Notes from the Road – Wednesday, August 11th – Friday, August 13th

Wednesday –

Wednesday I start by sleeping until almost 9 am – man, did I need that!  I made a disturbing observation just as I was leaving Stone Mountain yesterday.  The inner edge of my front left tire on the truck is starting to show the belts of the radial through the rubber – not good.  It was causing me some heartburn as I drove that hat full of hairpins on Hwy 80 yesterday getting down to Dick & Joyce’s place.  So, first item on the agenda today (after coffee and homemade blueberry / cranberry scones of course) is to get into Burnsville and find a tire.

Dick volunteers to join me and we decide on a proper agenda.  First we’ll drop off my sound gear at Teo’s where I’ll be playing tonight.  Next we’ll find me a tire in Burnsville and have lunch.  Then we’ll come back and play 9 holes of golf.  Sounds like a plan.

Teo is at the restaurant already and directs me to my spot for the evening.  I set up my Fishman SoloAmp in short order all the while chatting with Teo.  Having learned of our tire mission, Teo recommends a local tire store on SR 19 just before entering Burnsville proper.  Dick is skeptical as he is more inclined to go to a “chain” type establishment, but I’m game so off we go.

The tire store is perfect.  All four of my tires are worn, but only the one is to the point of needing to be replaced.  The rest still have many miles of good tread remaining.  I’ve been struggling to figure out the most logical way to do this replacement and I’ve been considering replacing both front tires, keeping the right front tire as the spare (my spare is pretty worn).  This will, however, involve a fair expense (around $300 or more for two tires) and will require that we unload the luggage area to get to the compartment where you drop the spare tire from beneath the vehicle (a real pain).  However, the tire guy has a better solution.  He has used tires for sale as well as new and he quickly finds one in great shape that matches the ones on the truck.  He has it mounted, balanced and I’m on my way in short order.  And get this - $18!  Yep, calamity averted and logistical issue solved for less than a Jackson, can you believe it?

In fact the tire cost only slightly more than lunch.  We had some great sandwiches and a bucketful of iced tea on the covered porch of a little joint off the town square in Burnsville.  Burnsville is a quaint little town with “antique” shops (some verging on the junk shop variety), local sundries and mountain crafts stores.  It’s nice and comfortable as the sky is overcast and there’s been a sprinkling of rain.  Soon we’re headed back up the mountain for a little golf.

I don’t have golf clubs or anything with me so Dick loans me a shirt and I don shorts and tennis shoes.  He and I will play out of his bag (a technical course rules violation, but Dick’s not one to be hampered by such trivial matters).  Though I’ve not swung a club in nearly three years I actually strike the ball fairly well and end up paring 4 out of the 9 holes.  We won’t dwell on the other 5.  It has warmed up considerably and by the time we finish I’ve soaked Dick’s loaned shirt to the point that I recommend burning rather than washing.

A quick shower and down to Teo’s for the evening show.  We’ve had trouble deciding on a time as the likely crowd is bifurcated early and late.  There are folks there who’ve come specifically to hear me at 6 pm so I get started.  Now this, again, is not a pure listening environment by any means.  There is a bar and supper is being served so there is a bit of traffic and noise to contend with.  But those that are there for the music are able to find seats closer to me and hold down the fort to minimize distractions.  For about 1 ½ hours I play through my intended set list taking requests here and there from folks familiar with my music.  CDs leave the table and names are added to my mailing list.  I take a break around 7:30 and the entire crowd (with a couple of exceptions) changes over.  Well, what the hell – I run back through some of the same songs (favorites like Yellow Butter Moon, etc.) and add about 70% different tunes than those I played in the first long set.  By a around 9:30 I am toast!  Over some protests from the crowd I put down the guitar for good and settle at the bar for a scotch and a much needed steak.  More CDs leave with new owners as I chat with folks while I down my supper and enjoy the hospitality of Teo’s generous bar staff.  In the end as the crowd dwindles I decide to leave the sound gear until tomorrow and just take my guitar with me as I steer toward a comfortable bed.  See you tomorrow.

Thursday

I’m up early (not so over served in the drink department last night as I was the night before) and do a little internet research to find a spot to call home for my last two gigs of the tour in Saluda and Asheville.  I settle on a likely spot near Hendersonville and, after retrieving the sound gear from Teo’s, saying my goodbyes and hitching to the camper I swing north and west through Burnsville (to avoid that freakin’ Hwy 80) and catch I-26 south through Asheville.  It only takes me about an hour and a half to get to my new location and I’m soon settled in on site with the afternoon to rest, recoup and restring.

Tonight I’m at the Saluda Inn & Wine Cellar which, according to the Navigatrix, is a mere 20 minutes away.  I’m to start at 7 pm, so I make sure I eat by 5 (some left over chicken and black beans with rice) and head out at 5:30.  The Saluda Inn & Wine Cellar is a really cool little venue.  Joanie, the proprietress, shows me around and suggests the best location for my gear.  The Inn, upstairs, is a huge old frame house that now serves as a B&B.  The Wine Cellar, as you might guess, is underneath and features rough hewn stone walls, wine racks and misc shelving with a collection of odds and ends, including a vintage whiskey still in one corner.  It won’t hold many people, maybe 50 if everyone likes each other, but the charm of the place is irresistible.  My SoloAmp is ideal for this type environment and I’m all set in short order.

Now this is Thursday night and though she offers music most Thursdays Joanie has warned me in advance that the crowd may be a little thin.  I’ve assured her it’s no problem as this was a late booking to fill a date cancelled by another venue so I’m grateful for the opportunity to get in front of some new folks and the small gig fee.  At just before 7 folks begin to appear and soon we have a decent little crowd.  As has been my experience there are two couples in the room from Florida (St. Pete area and Sarasota) who immediately tune into selections from my Florida based repertoire and the crowd as a whole is quite receptive and responsive.  This is again not a pure listening room environment and a good bit of social chatter goes on during the show, but it does not distract from the material.  It’s a good night, particularly for a late booked gig, and Joanie is a gracious host who is anxious to have me back on a weekend night when she can gather more of a crowd for me.  If you’re ever in Saluda, NC stop by The Wine Cellar and tell Joanie I sent you.

By the time I return to the campground it’s about 10:30 so I settle in with a last glass of wine and read a bit before turning in.  A lazy, reorganization day tomorrow before my last gig in Asheville.  Aahhhhhh . . .

Friday

I keep waking up real early, too early, and then managing to fall back asleep.  I don’t actually get up to make coffee this morning until about 8.  It’s a little overcast outside so it’s not immediately hot – maybe I’ll go fish a little.  Naw, coffee and a movie sounds better.

I get the camper cleaned up, dishes done, etc.  Then it’s time for lunch and a nap – tough schedule huh?  Tonight I’m at the French Broad Chocolate Lounge and for those of you not familiar with the Asheville area, no, this is not a house of ill repute that just happens to offer live music.  The French Broad River runs through Asheville, hence the name of this famous local sweet spot that serves all manner of chocolates, coffees, teas, beers and wines.  This is another late booked filler gig after a cancellation.  Cancellations were a real problem with this tour as the economy and other factors forced many venues / hosts to change plans on short notice.

Though I’ve heard of the Chocolate Lounge I’ve never been there and really don’t know what to expect.  I’m to play from 8 to 10 so I get there by around 7 to load in.  The Lounge is on Lexington in a bustling part of the downtown night scene in Asheville and parking is difficult.  I end up about three blocks away, not ideal.  The room is long and narrow with an upstairs balcony area.  The chocolates are in a case along the left of the room with area for the servers behind it and ending at the cash register about halfway back.  Seating fills the rest of the space and I’ll be up front in the right corner near the door.  There is a line of customers about 20 long at the counter as I set up and I’m told by the staff that the line will continue at that length and much greater all night, sometimes spilling out into the street in front.  Interesting.  Obviously, not an ideal listening environment, but we’ll see.

At 8 pm, as promised by the staff, the line is all the way to the front door and folks are starting to “pool” in the area where I’m to perform.  But, they make way as I pick up the guitar and start hitting the first few notes.  It is an interesting dynamic.  While the entire room, including the balcony, can hear the music and respond with applause, the folks most engaged by the music are those in line.  Imagine performing at the check in area for Southwest Airlines and you’ve got a fair estimation of the gig.  The audience is in constant flux, but as they stand in line they have time to hear a couple of tunes, look over the CDs, mailing list sheet, etc.  Some then find a seat to hear more while others move on out the door.  It is another opportunity to simply focus on the technique and presentation of the songs themselves without the patter and story telling that usually accompanies them.  What I first had strong reservations about turns into a very enjoyable, unique gig and the staff is both very complimentary and very attentive about keeping me supplied with water, wine, etc.  When I finish at 10 the manager tells me they’ve had a great night, in part he thinks to the advertising they did regarding my appearance there, and he doubles my gig fee – nice!  Not too much in the way of CD sales, but folks have been showing their appreciation at the tip jar helping to fund the trip home here at the end of the 4th annual Gas Hog Tour.

Instead of making a couple of trips three blocks away with the gear I get everything ready to load and then bring the car up to a no loading zone outside to load up – hey, if you can’t break some rules here and there what’s the point in having them!  I’m on my way in short order and after adding a little expensive NC gas to the tank to get me into SC tomorrow where prices are better arrive at the campground at around 11 pm.

Tomorrow I begin the journey home and reflect on these three weeks on the road.  Stay tuned.

Notes from the Road – Saturday, August 7th - Tuesday, August 10th

Thursday -

I didn’t sleep as well last night as I’d have liked.  That usually happens the first night away from Judy sleeping alone again.  I have dishes to do and some other cleaning / maintenance to attend to, but I can’t seem to muster the energy.  So, by 11 a.m. I give up and get on the road.  Tonight I’m “barnstorming” at a campground in southern Virginia a couple of hours away.

It’s an easy drive, Interstates all the way.  Near Roanoke I see a sign for BBQ and give into temptation.  It’s not very convenient, in a strip center with a grocery store, etc., but it turns out well worth it.  3 Pigs Barbeque is the name and they make all their own sauces, ketchup, etc.  It has a music theme and it appears they have live music on the weekends.  It’s a small place, probably seats no more than 50 people and I don’t know where they’d set up the musicians, but given the quality of the food, service, etc. I’m sure they’ve got it worked out.

Parking the camper in this kind of a place is tricky.  The SUV with the 24’ trailer, plus a hitch carrier on the back of that is a good bit longer than two parking spaces end to end.  So, I found a curb spot on the drive that led behind the building.  When I’d finished my BBQ I discovered that the drive behind the building did not come out the other side.  Fortunately I’m pretty good at backing and it was a simple matter to roll back far enough to make the turn and get on my way, though I noticed folks with cars around me looked plenty nervous.

With the lunch stop I was still at the new campground before 2 pm.  It’s a spare looking little place, but it looks quite full.  I get checked in and settle into the spot they’d reserved for me down on the pond near the pavilion where I’ll be playing tonight.  It is a long, perfectly level site so I don’t even have to unhook – perfect.  Plug in the power, connect the water hose and I’m all set.

I noticed coming in that there was a whole passel of those little teardrop shaped mini-campers in the park and out of curiosity I wander up (with some flyers for the show tonight in my pocket, of course) to see what’s going on.  It turns out that it’s a rally for teardrop camper owners – a group calling themselves the “Tear Jerkers” – cute.  If you’re not familiar with teardrop campers, google them to see what I mean.  Many of these little units are homemade / custom made and I’m not talking about rough, slipshod work either.  Some are made from sailboat quality teak with fine varnished finishes.  The ingenuity applied to accessorize these little units is incredible.  Storage compartments, pop out cooking areas, dressing booths, canopies and awnings, etc. were quite amazing.  I was surprised to learn that these campers began being manufactured back just after WWII.  In fact there was one metal unit with wide white sidewall tires and matching spare that was made in 1947.  There were about 50 of these gathered for the rally and they were having a supper just before my show – excellent!

After a little rest I go ahead and do laundry (I’m past due on this) and clean the camper up a bit.  Then I go ahead and set up for the show before the Tear Jerkers get started on their supper so I can be ready to go as soon as their function ends to keep as many of them as possible to hear the music.  My Fishman SoloAmp is so easy to set up it only takes me about 15 minutes.  Then I clear out to rest up a bit, take a shower and get my mind on the set list.

I’m lucky and a good portion of the Tear Jerkers stay behind for the show.  It’s a good friendly crowd and I give ‘em an hour and a half of my Florida folk and songs about other parts of the country as well.  Again, CDs depart with new owners and the gas hog tour gets funded for a few more miles.  Has I known about the Tear Jerkers I would have tried to come up with a novelty song about them – that would have KILLED!  But, we all had a good time.

Just as I was finishing up with Steam Train a new member joined the audience.  He looked familiar, but I couldn’t place him.  When I was done he called out to me – it was Bill Clayton, folk singer from Sanford, FL!  The world just keeps getting smaller.  He was on his way with his wife up to see her family in Ohio and just happened to stop in at this campground for the night.  He was quite surprised to see the posters advertising my show.  We chatted and caught up a bit as I started to pack my gear.  But, as we both had early starts in mind we kept it short and soon I’m settled back in the camper for the evening.  Ahhhhhh . . .

Sunday –

The fact that I have no hooking up to do to leave makes me quite lazy this morning.  I think about doing a little fishing, but its pretty hot out so I just lounge in the AC, write a little, watch a movie, etc.  Well, Sundays are supposed to be a day of rest anyway, right?

I’ve got a short run up to my next campground show near Appomatox, Va. where Lee surrendered to Grant.  I get started by late morning and take it slow and easy enjoying the scenery and stopping to take in some historical sights along the way.  Again, I’m at the campground by 2 p.m.  This is a nice family campground of fair size.  In addition to the standard pool there’s a lake with a swimming area, diving platforms, slide, etc.  Posters promoting my performance are prominently displayed throughout the grounds and the young lady at the desk is all set to direct me to my site.  This site is a little too far from the pavilion where I’ll be playing tonight to haul the gear over on foot, so I go ahead and unhook so I can use the truck.

After a nap and some other loafing, I go on over and set up my gear.  They have a raised stage at one end of the pavilion with an open concrete floor in front and picnic tables around the perimeter, pretty nice.  As before it doesn’t take me long to get everything ready to go, including my CD table, etc.  All I have to do at show time is step up, plug in and play.

One drawback to this campground is that there’s no internet access and no cell phone reception.  I need to make a couple of calls, one to Judy since I haven’t checked in on her today, so I head out in the truck in search of a cell phone signal.  Heading back west towards Lynchburg I’ve soon got three bars and make my calls.  The I head back to rest a little and take a shower before 7:30 pm.

At 7:30 I step up and begin adjusting sound.  A few folks have gathered and as the guitar rings through the SoloAmp more emerge from their cars and campers and filter over.  I quickly conclude that I’ve made one miscalculation.  The sun is quickly setting behind me to the left, but for the moment it is shining right into the open concrete area in front of the stage.  As a result, everyone sits on the benches around the perimeter or in chairs on the grass and many drive up in golf carts and remain seated in them.  This means that I’m a good 30 feet from the closest audience members and as much as 45 from the folks straight in front of me.  That’s too far for the intimate type show that I like to do – can’t see their eyes.  However, it would take too long to move down on the floor closer to them so I carry on as is.  Again everyone enjoys the show and exhibit their appreciation with generous contributions to the gas hog tour fund and take home some CDs.  Back on the “it’s a small world” theme, one couple is from Gainesville up visiting their daughter in Lynchburg.  They particularly enjoy the stories and songs of Florida.

Tomorrow I turn south towards North Carolina.  I’ve got a couple of days before my next show at the restaurant at the Mount Mitchell Golf Course where’re I’ll be spending a couple of nights with old friends.  I have some computer work to do so I’ll bite off about half of the drive tomorrow and the rest on Tuesday.  So, tonight I think I’ll ice down some amber whiskey and stroll the campground a bit before turning in.

Monday –

I thought this was going to be a two day posting originally, but internet and cell reception in southern Va. and North Carolina are a rare and finicky thing.  So, I’ve added Monday here and hope I get to post it Tuesday.  I’m in no hurry today as I have no show tonight or tomorrow.  And, since I’ve got no internet connection I can’t do the usual site maintenance and booking work I’d otherwise be doing.  I think I’ll go fishing.

My first cup of coffee in hand I stroll down to the fishing lake here at the campground at about 6:30 a.m.  There’s an older couple down on the dock fishing already and, unfortunately, they’ve got a yappy little dog with them.  He doesn’t like that I’m using the lake too even though I’m a hundred yards away.  Fortunately, the man doesn’t care for his yappiness any more than I do and is effective at shutting him up – they’ve apparently had this discussion before and the dog does not care to debate it again.  Not much in the way of fish, but it sure is pretty and peaceful.  The sun hasn’t broken yet and there’s a fine layer of fog just off the surface of the water.  In just a couple of hours it will be the country version of Wet N’ Wild here as the kids swarm in to swim and play.  Summer’s almost over.

Back at the camper I do write a little, work on a couple of song ideas, design some promo pieces – that kind of thing.  I should get going, but the road isn’t appealing just yet.  More coffee.

Finally about noon I head out.  I have no particular destination in mind, I just want to get down into NC and within striking distance of Burnsville.  That’s where I’ll be staying Tuesday and Wednesday nights, playing at the Mount Mitchell Golf Club Wednesday night.  I’d like to find a nice State Park as they are always quiet, peaceful, pretty and cheaper than private campgrounds.  After stopping for a little late lunch at a McDonalds where I can use their WiFi I settle on Stone Mountain State Park north and west of Winston-Salem and set the Navigatrix accordingly.

Now, I wasn’t in any particular rush, but I was thinking I’d get to the campground by early to mid-afternoon and enjoy the day.  I also thought (don’t know why) that I’d have cell reception high in the NC mountains somewhat near larger towns.  I was wrong on both counts.  I finally rolled into the park (the long way around, through the unpaved rear entrance – thanks Navigatrix) at just after 4 pm., barely in time to check in before the office closed.  And I found, of course, that there was no cell reception to be had.  This was an issue since I needed to contact my friends in Burnsville about arrangements for Tuesday and Wednesday.  So, after getting set up on my site (surprisingly warm for high in the Blue Ridge Mountains) and cooling my feet in the mountain stream running beside it (nice!) I headed back out in search of cell reception.  I finally found it about 20 miles down the mountain and made my calls (to answering machines of course, meaning I’ll have to do this again to get the responses).

By the time I got gas, got back to the campsite, changed clothes, got a fire started, etc. it was 7:30 pm.  However, a campfire and an amber liquid are magical in their ability to bring on quick bliss.  I soon had a chicken breast broiling over the wood fire and some yellow rice and collard greens warming on the stove.  Very domestic dontcha think?  As the daylight fades the cicadas begin their chorus in the trees and bats begin their aerobatic maneuvers devouring mosquitoes.  Life is good.  After supper I have a little more of the amber and work on some guitar techniques I’ve been toying with.  Song ideas flow and the fire crackles.  However, before I know it it’s after 10 pm and the mosquitoes are starting to get quite bold in their attacks.  I either need to get out the bug juice or retreat.  Given the hour I elect retreat and settle into the camper for the night surrounded by the sounds of the mountain stream, cicadas and a gentle breeze rustling the leaves.  Not bad, not bad at all.

Tuesday –

Well, still no consistent cell or internet reception so I guess this is a four day journal.  From Stone Mountain I’m headed to the home of my friends Dick and Joyce Adams who have a house on the Golf Course at Mount Mitchell.  Dick has arranged a show for me down at the golf course restaurant Wednesday night and I’m going to spend a couple of nights with them.  I know from past experience that the Navigatrix tends to take me to their house by a tortuous mountain road with sharp switchbacks and steep grades so I’m trying to avoid that.  However, I’m at a disadvantage since I can’t recall which road it is that is so bad.  To out fox the Navigatrix I set her to take me to a town that I think will dissuade her from the mischief of selecting the usual road.  But, she’s smarter than me.  Soon I find myself on Highway 80 approaching Mt. Mitchell from the south, just as always.  The car groans and the trailer shrieks with each hairpin turn and evil grade – truly hell on wheels.  I make it however, tough some worse for the wear.  Sure am glad I’m not playing tonight!

Dick and Joyce’s house is up the mountain from the golf course which sits right on Highway 80.  So, I turn in to make the last hard climb.  There is an abandoned roadway just past the turn down to their house and we plan to park the camper there.  This is not the kind of place that gets much idle traffic or crime (other than a little moonshining and perhaps a bit of poaching) so the trailer will be nice and safe.  One last little tough steep stretch of blacktop and I’m able to pop it in reverse and swing the trailer right into its graveled space on the abandoned road.  Apparently I startled a skunk in the brush with the trailer because the fragrance is strong and unmistakable when I get out to unhitch.  The old Ford is well relieved to be shed of its 6,000 lb. burden and rolls exhausted back down the hill to the house.  Personally, I’m ready for a drink.

And, my host delivers.  Dick is off running an errand, but Joyce is at the ready with a cool glass of nerve tonic – just what the doctor ordered.  Golfers parade past on the 14th fairway, bisected by a nice rocky river, and the 14th green which the house overlooks.  Quite a view from the front porch where Joyce and I sit with our drinks near the hummingbird feeders and her freshly weeded flower garden.  I doesn’t take long before the trauma of Highway 80 inflicted upon me by the mischievous Navigatrix is far in the past.  Dick returns and we sit catching up on all the news, old friends and general BS until its time to consider supper.

The restaurant at the Golf Course, Teo’s, is having a “low country boil” tonight, which means shrimp, crab, sausage, corn, potatoes, etc., all you can eat.  Our appetites sufficiently whetted by our early libations we descend to the restaurant and wait for the starting bell of the feed.  I’ve printed up postcards for the show tomorrow and Joyce goes to work on the crowd making sure they know that they should return to hear me the next night.  We’ve also given a passel of them to the golf course to put on each cart that goes out tomorrow.  We’re working hard because Wednesday is usually a slow night and we want to see if we can’t create a draw.

Soon the food is ready and the crowd flows into the dining room to sit at long tables covered in newspaper a heavily supplied with napkins.  Peeling shrimp and cracking crabs is messy work.  The food comes in waves and we fall on it like ferrets – I’m surprised no one lost a finger!  It’s REALLY good and there is much discussion about the show tomorrow.  We eat ‘til we are near bursting and then repair to the bar for more lies and whiskey.  On the whiskey end I freely acknowledge that I have been over served.  By the time we head back up the mountain I am completely inebriated and quite ready for some horizontal examination of the insides of my eyelids.  And so I say a grateful but abrupt G’nite.  Stay tuned.

Notes from the Road – Thursday, August 5th and Friday, August 6th –

Well, let’s see, where was I?  Oh yeah, the day after The Purple Fiddle – Thursday.  In Elkins, WV the rain continues.  We thought we’d take the boys up to Parsons a half hour away (a small town of 1,800 or so) and show them the two acres we bought a couple of years ago there on the Cheat River.  We’ve packed a lunch, brought some fishing gear and plan to make a day of it, weather permitting.  I also want to show them the wind turbines on the ridge just above Parsons – very impressive sight.

However, the weather is not cooperating.  We rolled into Parsons, past the Kingsford Charcoal plant (yep, Parsons is the home of Kingsford), past the signs for the Bluegrass Fest going on at the Five Rivers Campground (the reason I couldn’t stay there on this trip) and out the other side to head up the mountain to the wind turbines.  As soon as we started to climb the mountain we hit fog, dense fog.  We drove on up to where the turbines sit, but in the fog you couldn’t see a thing.  So, back down to Parsons and out to our property.

Like the Shaver Fork, which flows into it, the Cheat is swelled with the heavy rains and is flowing far too strong to fish with spinning gear.  You’d have to know where the holes and eddies are and I don’t.  We walked the edge of the river behind our two acres and marveled at the size of the deer tracks in the sand of the bank.  Deer sign everywhere – huge acorns from the oaks is the reason I’m sure.  We are really looking forward to being able to build here so we can start enjoying the river and the surrounding mountains.  I’ve started a song idea: “I’ve got sand in my blood and orange blossom honey in my soul, but these hills of West Virginia have taken hold of me and tied loving strings to my heart.”

Since the weather wouldn’t let us really do much we ate our sandwiches and headed on back to the campground in Elkins.  The boys wanted to watch a movie and I’m feeling napish so we all crowded into the bed and they watched the movie while I dozed.  I got a good nap – I needed it too.  At around five I fixed myself something to eat (have to sing tonight, so eating early is necessary) and began to think about my gig at El Gran Sabor in town.  Judy and the boys are going to stay at the campground tonight.  The rain has let up and the boys are going to try their luck in the trout pond.  I’ll rig their rods for them before I leave and Judy will supervise to be sure they don’t get into trouble.

As I wrote last year, El Gran Sabor is more of a restaurant / bar gig which I don’t usually do.  But, since I’m passing through here each year and will eventually be living part of the year in the area I’m trying to get in front of local folks as much as possible.  This is one way to do that.  Plus, Rob Masten, the owner, is a great guy, fellow musician and a real supporter of live music.  The stage and sound system are good and so is the food.  Because it’s not a listening room I won’t have much opportunity for my usual patter and story telling.  So, I’ll approach it like an opportunity to practice, run through my entire song list playing songs I rarely get to and focus on technique.

Even though there is a free bluegrass concert literally across the street and Davis & Elkins College, part of the Augusta Heritage Center’s summer traditional music workshops and programs, we get a good crowd in El Gran Sabor and both Rob and I are pleased.  The folks react well to the material and show their appreciation financially so that it ends up being a better night money wise than last night at The Fiddle.  I run through my repertoire as planned and, as the crowd turns over, I’m even able to go back and run through some tunes a second time to try different approaches.  All in all a very good night.

Although I’ve already eaten, Rob insists that I take a shredded pork dinner home in a to go box – no cooking tomorrow night.  We talk about the tour and when I may be coming back.  He’d like me to do a Friday night the next time and I may just do that if I can book a house concert somewhere in WV for Saturday and maybe a campground gig on either Thursday or Sunday with The Fiddle on the other.  That would make a good run here.

Back at the camper the boys are just hitting the sack.  No luck with the fishing, just one small fish between them.  But, they’ve had a good time and have been great company.  Tomorrow I take them and Judy to the airport in Richmond, Va. for the flight home.  Then I continue on with the tour for another week before turning toward home myself.  Gotta get up and at ‘em to get on the road at a reasonable hour.  G’nite.

Friday, August 6th –

It’s still cloudy out, but it’s not raining and it’s cool, which I appreciate as I set about preparing the camper for the road again.  The boys are up and eating Coco Puffs (yuck!) and we’re on the road before ten.

We head east up through the West Virginia mountains on US 33 toward Seneca Rocks.  What a spectacular drive!  It’s a strain on the SUV hauling the camper up the steep grades (some as steep as 11% or more), but the views and rock formations are breathtaking. 

Judy gets a little car sick on the twisting mountain roads so she closes her eyes and snoozes for most of the trip through the mountains however I thoroughly enjoyed it as did the boys.

Within a couple of hours we make the other side and descend into Virginia where we pick up I-81 south to Staunton, Va.  I was scheduled to play there tonight at the Darjeeling Café’, but renovations did not get completed on schedule and the gig has been cancelled.  Nevertheless, this is where I made my camping reservations and its on the route to Saturday night’s gig so I’m dropping the camper here before heading on to Richmond to deliver Judy and the boys to the airport.  I get a good lakeside campsite with about 30 ducks nestled in the grass as neighbors, simple drop the trailer in place and head out immediately for Richmond.

As the approach Richmond the traffic thickens considerably, but we get to the airport ahead of schedule.  Jet Blue is the first airline in the terminal so I am quickly abandoned by Judy, Chase and Hunter.  It’s been good having them with me for part of the trip.  I like my alone time too, but three straight weeks is a lot of alone.  So, I was glad to have them with me in the middle like this.

Back at the camper I set up for the night, have my shredded pork from El Gran Sabor (tasty!) and decide to try a cast or two in the lake.  With a mini top water lure on an ultra lite rod I quickly snag three small bass.  Fun.  A little of the amber whiskey and I’m ready for some shut eye.  Tomorrow, on the road again.  Stay tuned.