After taking what ended up being my last shower and shave for a while, I left Colorado Springs once again on Monday April 5th. This time I was flying solo, and I was headed in a different direction, towards the midwest.
I didn't have another engagement until Friday at KMSU in Mankato, Minnesota - a radio interview. Thinking back, as low on fundage as I was, it may have been wiser for me to stay with Nick and Lisa Davey, or Mr. Joe Taylor, until Wednesday or so... then drive to Minnesota. I guess I was just chomping at the bit to get alone, or to get going. So rather than a comfy guest bed, I spent Monday night in the back of Ruby Tuesday in a Wal-Mart parking lot. At least I was in my space.
TUESDAY, 4/6I woke up Tuesday and sat in a little cafe in downtown North Platte. I read a book that was on the shelf by the big red chair I had planted myself in (by the outlet, in order to charge my phone) about animals and their unconditional love for us, and what it does for us. I had a moment, a thought, a twinge that made my butt pucker - you know, the kind of feeling I imagine motherless women feel when they reach their upper 30's and they see a baby. My thought was, "I WANT A PUPPY!"
Yuck. There's plenty of time left in my life for that domesticated doggy dung. I'm a traveling troubadour right now, and "they say the road ain't no place to start a puppy" - they being "Journey", and it goes something like that.
I booked a gig at the North Platte Community Playhouse for August 21st, complete with radio interview the day of. Should be a grand time. Might make a mini-tour out of it, come as far east as Minnesota and head back west down on I-70. Sorry, just thinking out loud here.
I drove all day in the rain across Nebraska, avoiding interstates at all costs. Pulled into the Arby's in Sioux City Iowa around dusk. There wasn't a soul in the place except the man that had followed me in. We struck up a conversation over our beef and cheddar melts.
His name was Guy. He had just flown back in to Sioux City from LA, where he was visiting his wife and kids. He was working and living in Sioux City because this is where the job is. I told him a bit about what I was doing and he offered up his sofa. Exhausted and already starting to smell, I agreed.
The sickness that had returned to me was at it's peak, so I drank a dixie cup of NyQuil-equivalent that I had purchased earlier that day, and slept hard for 10 hours.
Thanks so much Guy.
WEDNESDAY, 4/7Woke up rested, but felt like shit. With money running low ($60 in my checking), I knew that a night in the cold car would only worsen my ills. I talked myself into purchasing a room at the Super 8 at around 1pm... so that I could shower, rest and get a good 22 hours in a warm room all to myself. Karen at the Super 8 in Sioux City was kind enough to give me a 10% discount after I told her what I was doing. She was very sweet.
In the next 12 hours I took two baths, a shower, booked gigs, contacted venues and poetry slammed with another songwriter via the blackberry. I wrote a bad song, but I'm learning it's important to allow myself to write bad songs. You'll never hear it.
I think the only two rooms occupied in the whole place that night were by myself and this older couple in their 70's. I saw them as they were helping each other out of the car that morning. Why they put us in rooms next to each other I don't really know.
At about 11:30, their bed in the room next to me started pounding a slow and steady rhythmic beat. It didn't last long. It was funny, it was odd at first, and then I realized how beautiful it was, and how it gave me hope for growing old.
Of course, it could be that they were just fidgeting. Or having a seizure.
I chose to believe they were knocking boots.
THURSDAY, 4/8Woke up refreshed, but man. Had it really only been three days since I left the Springs? This is tough. Being homeless and doing the music thing, getting the praise and love back, connecting with people.... that's good stuff. That's far different than being homeless and just being homeless. Passing time. This is the glory of what I do. This is touring alone with no shows booked for three days. It's far more exhausting than 6 shows in three days. I'd rather have that.
The rain in Sioux City had stopped and I made a beautiful drive north to Mankato, MN for my radio interview Friday and show at the Coffee Hag.
Snapped a few shots of the train depot for my father. He's a "Schnerd" or "Foamer", which are affectionate terms for "train geek". He's worked for the railroad for 100 years now, and I grew up on train tracks. Didn't live near 'em, but we drove to 'em all the time. In my life, the first sounds of live, knock-my-ass-over rock and roll came from these massive steel diesels that charged down the rails like bulls and blew their deafening horns when you least expected it. It always scared the shit out of me, so I'd want to cover my ears, but my dad and his fellow "Foamers" never covered their ears and I wanted to be tough(?) like them. So I would let it deafen me, and then pee in my pants a little.
Anyway, the depot shots are included. Mankato is awesome. Tonight I'll return to the not-so-comfy-confines of Ruby Tuesday and get ready for what I'm out here, drifting, to do.
Folking.
