"On the Road"  Journal

2006   2005

3/2/2006 - Saluda, NC:   Don't tell anyone who's booking, but I will play for a lot less money if I know I'm going to get fed well. Go to the Purple Onion in Saluda and don't even order. Just tell the waiter to bring you his or her favorite thing they're doing in the back today. I'll go back to see Abi Tapia and Chris Rosser as they come through over the next couple of months. Not that I wouldn't want to see Chris or Abi anywhere they're playing, I absolutely would, but the thought of tucking in to a plate of that catfish or a slice of that prime rib beforehand is adding to the anticipation. It's enough to make me break my usual rule of "no more playing where or while people are eating". As long as they save me some.

The only thing that throws me about the Onion is that row of seats they put right up front before showtime. About 8 chairs up in front of the tables so close that they can check your nasal hygiene. If I spit on anyone inadvertently I am truly sorry. I've listened to the digital recording we got of that night and there is definitely some usable stuff on there for the next CD, so thanks a ton!

2/11/2006 - Orlando, FL:   I have decided that Orlando doesn't really exist. Seriously, from the moment you get off the plane in the hinterlands of the Magic Kingdom, you might as well have gone through the looking glass. I was once told by a colleague that you don't get to see "America", as a touring musician, you get to see its hotels and airport terminals. Usually that's true, but I have to say that the cab ride from Orlando International to the Peabody Hotel is worth the trip almost by itself. Everything about Orlando is the biggest, the loudest, the most colorful, from the highway signs to the McDonalds play area (I can't believe there have not been children lost at the bottom of THAT MANY colored balls in a plastic tank!). It all comes at you through the side windows of the car as you crawl through rush hour traffic, like some sort of 21st century Pirates of the Caribbean ride.  The word "surreal" doesn't quite get the job done.

Airplane shows. Yikes. Will the guitar make it there in one piece? Will I? The tough part about guitars and planes since 9/11 is that you can almost never carry on your instrument now. Some airlines suggest you buy an extra seat for something valuable you wish to carry on (yes, of course, I can afford that!) but be warned; there's also an FAA regulation about things sticking up too far above the top of the seat that ends up applying to most guitars and cases, so even an extra seat might not be a way out. This last time, I ponied up for one of the SERIOUS flight guitar cases (for those of you who keep track of such things: an SBC, dreadnaught size) knowing that I'd probably end up checking, and sure enough. . . I slacked the strings beforehand however, and aside from what was probably a substantial temperature change ("same conditions as the passenger cabin" my big 'ol butt!!) my only worry was making sure it was always on the same plane as me. Note to guitar travelers: as of last summer, you can't "gate check" items that large anymore either. Yeesh, what a racket! I'm doing a songwriters workshop with David LaMotte in three weeks, and he just returned from one of his frequent forays to Germany. I'll be interested to find out how he deals with such things.

©2006