I’ve set out back on the road once again for about two weeks.
Diamond Jeff Collier, my trusty road brother in crime, is joining me to work the Rock ‘n’ Roll Fantasy Camp in Nashville.
This a gig I’ve been a part of for the last two years. For this gig, we rented a smaller box truck and loaded equipment from our storage unit and set out to drive across the country.
Then, after working the camp, we take it all down and bring it back to LA. This is an excerpt from the journey there.
Nights like this really cause me to look inside myself. It’s 9:04 p.m., but time stopped about 500 miles ago.
I’m in Arkansas and we’re embarking across the highway in a shaky truck with the music blaring.
“One more night in Jacksonville” by American Aquarium. Appropriate. The combination of long distance and loud music puts me in a thinking head space. Plus, we just crossed a wide river. That is a definite trigger.
If I close my eyes, I can almost fade outside this moment. The music naturally lowers. My foreground becomes my background. Everything just is, including me. I’m here. Right now. I can almost feel every second pass. Looking at them like Neo in “The Matrix” when he saw bullets turn into code.
I’ve been expedited into tour mode in two days. In 24 hours, we went from Los Angeles to Midland Texas.
In 48 hours, we’ve gone from Midland to Arkansas, past Little Rock. Were making it to Memphis tonight. This pace has made me rethink what can be accomplished in such a short amount of time, also, how close these places actually are to my home.
Miles are how map makers quantify distance. If Americans only realized how close we actually are.
The more I’ve left home, the more I’ve come to realize that Southern California is one of the dirtiest places I’ve seen — especially along the rest stops and highways.
I didn’t see any couches dumped on the highway, across the state of Texas and there was not an excessive amount of garbage. The rest areas are well maintained and almost gleam with pride. It’s an embarrassing first impression of California, traveling through our state. We need to change.
We are about an hour-and-half outside Memphis. It’s strange because this is the closest I have been to a place I’ve wanted to go for years.
Tomorrow, we are going to Sun Studios and several other notable places.
Getting to go here almost feels like anything is possible. It’s odd. Most people would say how did I get so lucky and I agree.
The part most people don’t talk about is how weird it is. I feel like my life is literally what’s happening right now.
I’m buckled in, headed down the road at a high rate of speed, along for the ride.
I can look at the Arkansas woods and see the years of my life passing me by in an instant. It’s liberating in a way.
We stopped in Southaven, Mississippi for the night. With our budget, we couldn’t find a decent place that didn’t come infested with critters.
Pulling into a random motel from our booking app, found a stereotype-breaking moment.
I was surprised to discover an Indian family of Hare Krishnas that ran the motel. They were very friendly and accommodating, despite us arriving around midnight, with no reservation.
I love moments like this — it’s one of the many reasons touring can be amazing, if you know where to look.
I was supposed to see a slack jawed yokel — an extra from “Deliverance,” spitting chewing tobacco on the floor. Instead, I got a normal human being. What gives?