Wrapping up a tour is a lot like packing up and heading home from college. Our semester spanned a lengthy 3 months across four continents. The time and distance marked an endurance record for all of us out here. I marvel at the weight I’ve put on in bric-a-brac.
Boxes of books share space with random t-shirts, gifted bras and hats and tour laminates. A warped Scrabble board unveils its years and an affinity for absorption (referring to the annual liquid spill within the luggage.) The scents stand divided. Some things reek of wet shoes, sweaty pits or a turtle’s terrarium while other items emit the fragrant aroma of sage, nag champa, and weed seed. Stacks of generous demo CD’s tossed from the playful hands of unknown artists in audiences around the world await council from management. Non-perishables are divided amongst the parting band and crew. One year a crew-member revealed to us his inordinate storage of honey bears, jelly jars, and peanut butters - creamy AND crunchy; items that were part of our tour rider that season. After that haul my kitchen pantry looked like the sandwich fixins aisle at the grocery store. I ended up giving everyone a jar of jelly for Christmas; the peanut butter to a neighbor’s llama.
On this departing day I shake my suitcase clean. I liken this activity to vacuuming under the couch cushions. The booty consists of:
3 used chap-sticks
1 rubber lizard
1 mannequin’s finger
1 faded Polaroid of Merch-Man Jerry giving me “the finger.”
1 vivid Polaroid of Dad filming the show from the front row in DC
9 semi-sticky assorted foreign coins
3 Anya Marina Stickers
1 mood ring stuck on dark blue
A hacky-sack
1 tiny odd remote control to an unknown gadget
1 racy naked lady cigarette lighter and an empty book of matches
These items may seem random but indeed are quite precious to me. What doesn’t make a great stocking stuffer for the kids will be a worthy addition to the next time capsule I bury.
Casualties of Tour: We lose hats in large numbers. Cables disappear. Someone always loses a shoe. Phone chargers are left behind. HPV is passed on. The list is too long and bothersome to describe. Tour life has also got to be a monk’s life. Renounce everything and whatever makes it home is God’s gift to you for showing up everyday.
I’m happy to be going home. Since I left, my cat had another feline friend move in so I’m anxious to meet the new roommate.
And thanks to everyone who came out and shared the music with us this spring. I always take home memories of all my friends holding their hands up high during Unfold and I think I’ll forever honor the thrill of ten thousand high fives being thrown my way during Dynamo night after night. Thank you Kansas City!
And I'll never forget the hours to which I tended to my mystical garden at the Peabody Hotel in Little Rock.
53 set lists and then some;
...All twisted up and smoked. If you missed it, well… then it sucks to be you. But we invite you to catch us again this summer, bouncing and jiving with your sister and her friends, spreading out across the great lawns of Europe and the Americas.
Hasta Pronto,
Jason