Right now I’m sitting in a Starbucks in Nashua, New Hampshire. Some old folks sitting close by have pulled a third chair up to one of these tiny round two tops. They’re having coffee and talking to each other in a language that sounds an awful lot like English. I can’t be sure though. Seems like as good a time as any to try and squeeze my life down into a bit-sized morsel of bloggery for you nibble on with your triple grande skim latte.
Whiskeytown just came on the stereo. A man wearing some heavy work pants is nodding to the beat. There’s a big guy next to him with a ZZ Top beard and a hood covering his head and most of his eyes. A couple of middle-aged moms are talking loudly about their families, cars, and diets. I now know how much money they make, and that they vacation in Australia. They feel really bad for this one poor family they know, and try to help them out, but they don’t really know how. A young woman is carting in a baby, while a new employee is being taught all about the magic of the French press. There’s a “caution wet floor” cone in the middle of a completely dry room. It’s a little too loud and a little too cold in here, but still, I’m enjoying the downtime.
Last night I watched most of the Republican presidential debate in my hotel room. I’ve never seen so many people appling for a job they seem to think has no use. Each one vowed to do less than the next. Well, I believe so little in government, that I couldn’t finish watching it. Maybe I should run for president. Vote for me, I promise to call in sick everyday!
I’ve been on the road for a week now. I’ve played in Columbia, SC; Charlotte, NC; Baltimore, MD and New York City. Seven more performances to go before I head back to Atlanta. It’s been good to give all the new songs some airtime. It takes a while to get inside of my songs. Sometimes I don’t even know what they’re about till I sing them a couple hundred times. Sometimes they surprise me. Sometimes they let me down. One of my old songs cracked my thumbnail a couple nights ago and I had to superglue it, to keep it from tearing off.
This is a strange life. It doesn’t get any less strange with time. You look for meaning in what you do, but if you get too close to it, you can’t even tell what you’re looking at. If I’ve learned anything it’s just this: Lean into the oddities. Try not to let yourself go numb.
My coffee is cold.
Cake or death,