“This guy doesn’t know shit.”
I’m assuming this was the first impression of the rest of the guys I was about to start a week long run with, as I walked into a bar in Anderson, SC, running a little late, because I had trouble finding the place. And, I couldn’t get to the direct box I had borrowed from a friend to work. Corey Hunt saw me on my knees looking at the direct box like I’d never seen one before, reached down and plugged my cord into the jack that clearly said “input” and gave me a pat on the back, which I would have taken as condescending if it wasn’t such an obvious dumbass oversight on my part. But, besides having a coughing fit during one of my songs (I was on the tail end of a cold, and it was a smoking bar) everything went well that evening. It was a good crowd for a Monday night. And I enjoyed getting to know everybody, at least through their songs, anyway.
I stayed at my folks house that evening. I didn’t sleep that well, though. Those of you who keep up these posts might recall that I get the insomnia something fierce sometimes. But, I managed to finally get to sleep around the time most people are starting their day, and I ended up sleeping until about one in the afternoon. I woke up, and had to get ready to hit the road and meet up with the rest of the guys somewhere around Gaffney, SC. Y’all might have driven through Gaffney before on Interstate 85 driving from Atlanta to Charlotte or something. My high school football team used to get our asses handed to us by Gaffney every now and then. Anyway, I met up with the rest of the crew, parked my car and hopped into the back seat of a van, which was nice for a change: just riding, I mean. I’m usually the one manning the steering wheel when I’m on the road.
Tuesday night's show was in Dallas, NC. Which is a little town south of Charlotte. I didn’t know such a town even existed. There is obviously one Dallas in particular that casts a shadow over the rest of them. There are apparently 16 places named Dallas in the US. Two in Canada. One in Australia. One in Scotland. And, interestingly enough, one in outer space. No shit: 8084 Dallas, it’s an asteroid, apparently. So, we played at a brewery in Dallas. And, I was off the beer for 3 months, ketogenic diet, for brain health and focus, I don’t think it worked, though–my wife says I’m more forgetful than ever. That’s not true, though. I’m just a Godawful listener. I’m working on it. I promise. So, I took a few pulls off a flask, but I could’ve used a beer. They had a porter or a stout that seemed like it would have been perfect on a cold night. But, standing around a fire pit with a little whiskey was good, too. The show was good, and I was getting to know everybody a little bit better. Van rides and Waffle Houses are good on the getting to know folks front.
Next day was a long drive to Greenville, NC. Which is close to the coast, if you’re not familiar with North Carolina geography. It was another good night and good crowd. Even though I got in trouble just a little bit for taking pulls off my flask on stage. It was mostly for my throat. I had cough drops, too. I would’ve been more discrete had I known somebody gave a shit. No Waffle House that night, but we stayed in a farm house in the middle of a cotton field, which was pretty cool. Probably a good photo op for the social media, but damn, I always seem to forget about that stuff in the moment.
Another long drive the next day, to Boiling Springs, SC. It was a good another good crowd, but a fight broke out, acoustic music doesn’t seem like a good instigator for a fighting, but, hey it’s Spartanburg County, I guess it comes with the territory. I’m pretty sure there was no Waffle House that evening.
The next night we drove to Asheboro, NC. Asheboro is kind of in the middle of the state. I think there was almost a fight at the show. Apparently, Randolph County NC has some kinship with Spartanburg County, SC. No Waffle House this evening, instead we stopped at a local diner, Golden Waffle. Golden Waffle had quite a colorful staff, who seemed a little worried about an elderly regular going by the name Slick, who had apparently been wearing the same clothes for three days. We stayed out in the country that night, and there was a huge puppy of a lab, and damnit, I can’t remember his name, but a good boy who attempted to kick me off the couch at some point, even though I was trying my best to share with him.
Last night of the run was in Mooresville, NC, and I thought there was going to be another fight, as the crowd seemed especially rowdy. But, we played a long set, with no fights and after the show I high tailed it back to Greenville, SC and the folks house. I made it home around three am and slept until my dad woke me up at quarter till eleven, we were having a family Christmas reunion, and my parents assumed I didn’t want to walk through the house in my boxers as aunts and uncles were drinking coffee Bloody Mary’s and mimosas. They were correct in their assumption. Damn. I’m writing this at about 9:30 PM. Some coffee sounds fantastic right now. But, I better not, insomnia and all that. Maybe some decaf.
All in all it was a hell of a good run. I made some new friends that I hope to see again really soon, and shook a lot of hands along the way. I’ve been back in Nashville since Monday, and now Christmas is sneaking up on me. I can honestly say, this has been the most sneak up Christmas season I’ve ever had. I hope everybody is doing well. Let’s all get together soon and hang a banner in 2019.
Much love to everybody! Cheers!