If you haven’t read the first part of my Megashow Recap [READ IT HERE].

At some point while I was on stage (I believe it was for the “encore”), I was handed a large blue envelope. It wasn’t until I collapsed onto the couch backstage that I realized what it said on the front: “WE LOVE YOU: FROM THE QN5 FANS – PLZ OPEN ON STAGE”.

At this point, CunninLynguists were well into their set and I couldn’t just break that up. Instead, I opened the envelope to see what was inside. My jaw literally dropped at what I saw. The contents turned out to be a beautifully hand-made scrapbook created by a slew of various blue schoolers – full color, complete with hand-written messages of gratitude, encouragement and support. I’ve received one or two gifts over the years, but this took the cake without question – this was clearly made with care and thought. I was actually mid-conversation when I opened it, skimming through, knowing there was no way I was going to be able to read through the entire book before I had to run back down to the stage for my cameo on “The Gates”. So, I quickly placed it in my messenger bag and kept it moving.

Zoned the fuck out and completely buzzed off of the post-show adrenaline yet still somewhat irritated about the after party, I arrived at home to find Mrs. Deff on the steps to the crib having a cigarette (don’t smoke, folks). Mind you, it’s around 4:30 in the morning. I hop out of the cab and slump myself onto the steps next to her. She was with me for the LA show in 2007, (which ended up being a pretty gnarly experience for both of us), so she felt the impact of the night just as much as I did. Both of our nerves were so frazzled from the entire experience and the stress of putting on the show itself, that we were WIRED. We spoke about the night’s key moments and I mentioned this special gift that I had received from the fans. She was blown away with the idea and I was excited to show her after I at least washed up and put on a shirt that wasn’t put through a cardio-workout.

After my shower and multiple glasses of ice water, I reached into my bag for the scrapbook.

Wait…it’s not in this pocket. Let me check the front flap.

Hmmm. Not there…not good. Let me check the inside pocket again.

(Starting To Sweat)…Lemme check the merch boxes.

[Nothing]

Oh Fuck. [Check bag for the 18th time. Empty contents. Repeat].

I KNOW I put it in my bag.

30 minutes later, I’m sick to my stomach. I’ve lost this precious one of a kind gift that was absolutely irreplaceable. This to me, was the equivalent to losing a loved one’s urn the night of the funeral. Ok, maybe not as grim…but along those lines of loss. Mrs. Deff asked me what the problem was, and after telling her… SHE was sick to her stomach. I was jittery. How idioitic of me. It must have slid under the couch I was sitting on when I thought I placed it in my bag. After all, I hadn’t slept in 3.5 days at that point and was mid-convo with 2 different people. I guess I wasn’t paying attention. But…it HAD to still be at the club, right? It was already 6 AM by now, so I was going to have to call the club in the morning and ask if they found anything in the dressing room. In the meantime, I sent desperate emails to the manager and production crew that worked with us that night.

Still. Fuck. I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m the worst person ever for this. I feel absolutely terrible…and I can’t sleep. But my body just shuts the fuck off the second I sit on my bed.

I wake up at 10:45 AM. Groggy, sorely-muscled with a searing headache. Imagine a two-week hangover from a month’s worth of Patron – something like that. Sleep deprivation is no joke folks. Still, the first thing on my mind was to call the club to see if they’d found anything. I call the box-office dude asking for the manager who wasn’t in (clearly) who tells me nothing was found but if anything turns up they’ll give me a call. Rrrrright. My lost item is their first priority, right? Yeah, no. I check my inbox to see if anyone had responded to my email. Nothing. I slump back in my chair. Drink more icewater. My hands shake. Mrs. Deff is awake. She couldn’t sleep either.

“I’m going to have to go to the club and see for myself,” I tell her. “There’s no way they’re gonna check for it. I’ll even go through the trash if I have to.”

“Friday is garbage night,” Mrs. Deff says. “It’ll be long gone by now”.

I guess I can still check the dressing room personally, right? At the very least, I’ll know for a fact that it was actually checked. I proceed to text all the QN5 fellas, “Good show y’all. Did anyone happen to pickup a blue envelope last night in the dressing room?” Much to my chagrin, every reply had variations of the word “No” in it.

“I’m gonna have to go over there,” I tell Mrs. Deff as I stand up from the chair.

I take a final look at my bag – disheveled with all zippers tossed wide and the strap bent to the side like a pair of tossed panties on the floor of a cheap hotel room..

…with the exception of one zipper on the back:

As I open it, the baby blue glory of peers out at me from it’s secret hideout:

“OH YEAH! I forgot about the back pocket.” I said to Mrs. Deff as she rolled her eyes with a sigh.

The collective weight of a million medicine balls and the twitter Fail-Whale immediately lifted off my chest. I never would have forgiven myself if I had lost this thing. In all serious, the sheer guilt and shame I felt as I endured the uncertainty of its whereabouts are the best indication of how much it meant to me that y’all would go out of your way to create something like this as a token of your appreciation. After some further investigation, I came to find out that Samiha & Houstonz had coordinated the whole thing – making sure as many people signed it and that it was printed. I just want y’all to know that some of the stuff in this book is truly inspirational to me. Handwritten letters, ransom-note-style artwork that takes an eternity to do by hand, experiences and powerful words of encouragement. When shit gets ultra-rough for the kid, and I’m under the gun at work, have a 2 week deadline to mix and master a release, write multiple songs, update the site, find time to eat and force myself to stay awake in order to finish it all…I’ll pull this book out to remind me it’s worth all of the sacrifice.

Y’all are the reason I do this and with this, I see that sentiment goes both ways.

Thank for you from the bottom of my heart.

Hollerate,
Tone