Asheville

May 9, 2013 - Asheville. Asheville is a music Mecca. Saw the Wallflowers two nights ago at the Orange Peel preceded by great local music. The town positively oozes it from its streets. I was here for some of my other work - Reclaiming Futures and working to improve outcomes for youth in the juvenile justice system with substance use issues. I've been doing work in that field (juvenile delinquency) for the past twenty years. Its shaped me - informed my music and writing, and, hopefully, has helped our community. Sometimes its difficult to know what you have had a hand in, or whether or not it has been successful. But each of these meetings reinforces that it has made a difference, that it does make a difference. Just a short entry today from the airport, but let me add that in whatever we do - large or small - it is the making of that difference that matters. How one might raise a child, treat a partner, build a community - all of these things matter. So keep it up.

Chicago

May 6, 2013 - Chicago. Visited with friends in Austin - Christie and Andy for brunch and then Wendy and Ike's wedding North of town. Many Kerrville friends were there and the festivities went late, though I did not... at least not there.  I headed up the highway leaving at about 9 PM, making my way to Chicago. I spent the night in Ft. Worth in a dubious hotel (the rooms around me were, judging by the sound, rented by the hour), though the price was right. The next day I found myself paralleling Route 66 for a good part of the way - reverse direction to a trip my Mother made so many years ago.

My Mother is an amazing woman.  Widowed at 36, she raised six of us in the shadow of some poor choices and unintended consequences. But she was ever the adventurer. From the time we were young we were conditioned for the road. Cross country trips every summer from Alaska - crammed into everything from a station wagon one year to a VW Bug another (try that with two adults, five kids and a pregnancy!) I've ridden the AlCan so many times that its become old hat for me now.... Under my own control I must have driven it now 45 times, but if I add in all of those trips... well let's just say that I have been on it more times than years I've been alive.... I tell people that my Mom has a house in Carson City, but lives in her Toyota. And really, she should get a free one for all the years and miles she has devoted to that brand!

That is where we all get it - our desire to travel, so none of us were surprised when she told us she and her sister (Audrey) were going to drive all of Route 66 - and when she said "all" she meant all.... That is to say, every noted nook and cranny, grassy trail, dead end and cow pasture that had once been that route were on hers. She set out one day from Chicago and many weeks later she reached the shores of the Pacific in Los Angeles.  She documented the drive too - with a few Route 66 guidebooks, she relived that bit of history - her own Kerouac story, though there weren't cigarettes and hard drinking. It was sisters though - and, though in their Seventies, they did their bit of flirting along the way. She collected photographs and words from those who were still there and became a bit of an expert. So much so that, some few years later as I was heading down some of the same roads in the deserts of California, I called her for ideas of where to find a meal. Barstow she knew.

She was 16, or maybe 15, when she took her first journey on her own. She'd met a young man while waiting tables in St. Cloud, Minnesota. He was working on a construction project, up from Oklahoma. He invited her down for a holiday and, with a little cash borrowed from her Grandma, Pegge bought a bus ticket for Oklahoma. Her honeymoon 4 years later was a documented journey up the AlCan in the dead of winter, a journey we repeated in reverse in 1994 or 1995 when she finally left Alaska for good. Just this year my Brother Paul and I found an old Milepost from those days and got her a copy for Christmas. A reminder of the road.

I thought of my Mom a lot yesterday as I drove the reverse of her Route 66, a lifetime of adventure that understands that, in the end, what we live are the impressions we've made and those that have maybe gleaned something from us. I've learned from her that a life worth living is one that has worth, and love and compassion - alongside a little drinking and irreverence.  A full life, one of meaning and purpose when there is often so little purpose to see. She's made sense of a world that is really quite random, serendipitous, ill-timed and unforgiving.  And that is a gift that I am happy to have shared in.  And she reads this blog, so Happy nearly Mother's Day Mom!

Mom at her 75th this past Month, with Blues Musician friend Fitz (Clon Von Fitz)

Mom at her 75th this past Month, with Blues Musician friend Fitz (Clon Von Fitz)

Albuquerque

May 3, 2013 - Albuquerque. Slept in Gallup last night and found out when I tried to check in that I'd left my Driver's License on a copier in Las Vegas.  That was something to figure out.  But the good folks at Kinko's FedEx there have solved all my problems - forwarding it to Asheville where I will catch up to it next week and providing me a scanned copy to assist should I have an unwanted encounter with the law!

Despite adversity, it's shaping up to be a good road trip.  Given that some of the proposed events were cancelled, the announcement of the book and the generosity of friends has prompted some more music and poetry possibilities along the road. I am always open to your suggestions of listening room series, house concerts or other possible venues - so don't hesitate to propose one or two. I have a habit of getting to places... And some new songs are emerging - could be a very good trip indeed.

Some good responses from yesterday's blog - one suggestion overheard on NPR (as reported by my friend Lauren Horn) is analog storage on a stainless steel disc. Interesting... And what of other subjects? Lunch with long-time Kerrville friend Clara Boling at Bailey's on the Beech - closing May 20 (Clara is a brilliant blogger - you can catch her rich wit and creativity at her blog here). But I am going to have get out and on the road if I am to make tomorrow's wedding....

At a coffee shop in Las Vegas

May 2, 2013 - At a coffee shop in Las Vegas - taking advantage of the wi-fi to catch up on mail and rest from the road. Heading to Austin for a wedding and to prospect a bit for future gigs. From there its north to Chicago....

Reflecting on temporary things.  Back last Fall I renewed my subscription for three years to the Wilson Quarterly (not going to link it). After taking my check, I received a note from them - they decided to give up their print edition and be strictly on-line. I was struck by that - not only do I like to read the Quarterly (liked) when eating or bathing (not a wise idea for the electronic edition), but I thought about the greater ramifications of what it means to switch everything to a digital format. 

I collect old books.  I love the feel - the texture of them.  My oldest is not as old as some I've seen and held - maybe 250 years old, but here is something to think about: that 250 year old book, still readable, still containing the data it had in it when it was printed, will be readable by generations more to come.  On the other hand I have a number of essays I wrote on my Brother portable (far from a lap top in the day and barely portable) from 1989/90 when I was in England.  These are on Brother discs and can now only be read by a specialist (if I find one) or line by line on the old Brother computer (which I retained for that purpose). They will, in time, become nothing but the 0s and 1s that make up the binary data stored on those discs. 

I have old floppy discs (from when they were really floppy) that would also have to be read by a specialist now.  The data and the formats constantly change and, unlike the printed word, could well be lost to future generations.  What does it matter? The musings of a random individual can't really be worth all that much anyway, can they? And yet, it is often these very caches of information - the writing on clay tablets, scratchings in papyrus in a desert cave, the writing behind writing on parchment reused by illustrators for eons - that shed light on our past.  When we slip to our Kindalls and our on-line journals (said by a guy typing on-line), what are we risking? Perhaps we are risking our past as we slip into a temporary future, a living only in the present as data storage changes on a whim, and the thoughts of our collective humanity slip away? I don't know, but it is why I publish and write and why I'll still collect books and read the tactile truth of the human condition. 

A big day today

April 29, 2013 - A big day today - copies of my new book of poetry, Six Truths: fifty sonnetswere shipped today. I'll begin selling them through the website any day now! I'm hoping you like it - lt's split into six sections: Love, Loss, Lust, War, Time, and Distance and illustrated by my great friend Fred Jenkins with a  cover by KeseyPollock and an Introduction by poet K. P. Liles.

Its been an amazing quarter actually. I was featured on Alaska Political Insider in January and March, on the Anchorage Observer "In the Phonebooth" show also in March - a remarkable collaboration between Anchorage, Alaska and Manchester in the UK (two great cities!), played in Sitka at the Grind in January and in Anchorage through the Anchorage Music Co Op just this past weekend (I shared the stage with Singer/Songwriter Laura Oden who's new CD "Alchemy" was just released. Check it out here) Now preparing for my Spring tour and studio shopping expedition. I leave tomorrow late and am back in Alaska on the 19th of June - in the midst of all this I'll be visiting friends, reading poetry in Marquette with acclaimed poet and writer Matt Frank, playing at River City in Windom, MN and dropping by Kerrville for about two weeks. 

Fellow "Kervert" Tim Mason and I have finished the first Bone Collectors CD - hoping to see that out in the next few months. I also go into the studio in August/September to finally complete "Fulton Street", my upcoming CD (that has gone through as many names as years in the waiting...) I'm looking to set up October and November music - West Coast in October; Southern Midwest, the Mid-Atlantic and Southeast in November.  Looking for House Concerts, and great venues - and looking for a little help in getting into them... so e mail me at cwrecord@alaska.net and let me know what you might know...

At ground level, I was a little overwhelmed by the Boston events. I've eaten right near where the car jacking occurred - three blocks from my friends and collaborators Tim Mason and Shannon Flattery's place (where I often stay when I am in the area). Meanwhile in Egypt the situation continues to deteriorate, the economy waivers on the edge of collapse - insightful links here and here from Karim Abadir, my long-time friend and keen economic mind. So much more to write. Perhaps I will stick to it... but no promises, yet.

Poetry book Six Truths.jpg

Anchorage

January 28, 2013 - In Anchorage after letting months pass by. Truth is, though I eventually made it out of Saskatoon and home, I missed the gigs at the Seldovia Festival and it really sort of broke me for a bit. My last night in Saskatoon was at a hotel downtown - classy, old, worth it. The Senator.  The password for the Wi-Fi was "Welcome Home", an interesting connection to my Kerrville life. The drive back was long, and I was exhausted in the end.

Now I'm looking at what the new year holds - the travel somewhat changed as I had to come up with a better plan than driving the Alcan five times a year...  So a new car for Alaska, the RAV there for now, and now I'll fly down to the "Lower 48". Age manifests itself in many ways.

It is a sad time now, though.... My Uncle Gene passed away after battling for two long years with cancer. I saw him last in mid-December - funny and smiling and fully aware of the next steps, the cancer by then having long sapped his strength of body, but seemingly only adding to his strength of spirit. His children - every one of them - rising to the challenge of a longer death. It was enough to make him proud of each of them, and it was enough for him to comfort his wife, my Aunt Bette, and let her know she would never truly be alone. It was lovely to see him so many times these past years and to see that humor I knew was always there. A delightful man, I'll miss him.  My Mother isthere now, and I'll miss the funeral... I regret that, but only a little. I know that those who are there will do him a great justice, and have the right kind of celebration of life.

Soon I'll write about Egypt and other things, and the music to come. For now, this entry is for Gene.

Goodnight Uncle Gene.

Dateline: Purgatory

June 21, 2012 - Dateline: Purgatory. Solstice, and I'm in a smoking room at a Comfort Inn in Saskatoon - my fourth hotel here in four days, none cheaper than $150.00 and averaging $180. Head Gasket blew on my way home and one day turned into two, then three, now four. I am feeling as though the winds of resistance are buffeting me on my way back and I am confused as to what is next, how to adjust, what to do. It is like purgatory. These hotels are all in what they call the "Industrial Zone" of the City. As attractive as it sounds. The air is cold, until today raining. No breaks. Just unrelenting boardum and the steady, repetative drone of the television. Tonight, no rooms. So, fingers crossed, the road will be before me again. I still face the prospect of single file traffic in the Yukon where the road was washed out last week. I am trapped in a way, and can not even find the energy for songwriting, but, finally, there is a song in it.