WHATEVER CAN GO WRONG...
Last two shows of the year. Was supposed to be as simple as just that. The road, however, seemed to have other plans for me.
It had to have started about a month ago when I was planning for the trip. There were two shows: West Virginia University and Maryville College. My agent says I should just fly into one airport and then drive to both schools. Looking at MapQuest, however, showed that both schools were 8 hours apart and I can't drive for more than 4 hours before weariness takes over and I get very sleepy...very dangerously sleepy. I swear I have a slight case of narcolepsy but no one wants to believe me.
So looking at the layout of both schools, I narrowed down to these two options:
1) Fly into Charleston, WV which falls halfway between both schools. This means flying into Charleston on Tuesday, drive 4 hours north to WVU, do the show, spend the night, then drive 8 hours south to Maryville on Wednesday, do the show, spend the night then drive 4 hours north back to Charleston on Thursday and fly home. Total cost for this trip: $390.
-OR-
2) Fly into Pittsburgh, PA on Tuesday, drive just one hour south to WVU, do the show, spend the night then fly to Maryville on Wednesday, do the show then fly home from Maryville on Thursday. Total cost for this trip due to the many flights: $550.
I figured since the difference was only $160 which would have been spent on a car rental had I driven everywhere, I'll just go with option 2 and fly everywhere because I don't want to be spending time driving. Again, it's because I have narcolepsy and no one believes me.
So far so I good. I arrive at Pittsburg, PA around 12pm and settled into the hotel hoping to get some rest before my show that night. Before I do that, however, I decide to call the student activities director at WVU to confirm what time he needed me. When I spoke to him, I told him I was staying in Pittsburgh so I just need to know what time he needs me at the school as I am an hour away. He responds with, "You're not an hour away. You're FOUR hours away."
Mouth drops.
Heart follows.
I ask how this is possible. He says that the school where I'm booked is WVU TECH....in CHARLESTON!!! He says this happens a lot- many artists confuse West Virginia University with West Virginia University Tech. How this got mixed up between me, my agent and my manager, I have no idea. Now I'm realizing why my agent was saying I could have driven between both schools.
Suddenly I'm frantic suddenly realizing that had I went with option 1 (which was also cheaper by the way), none of this would have happened!! So now, I have to drive 4 hours south to the RIGHT school, do the show, then drive 4 hours back north to Pittsburgh because of my hotel and the fact that my flight leaves from there the next day at 7 am. My agents suggests I just drive to the school, stay the night, then drive to Maryville College and drop off the rental car there. Rental car company says it will cost an extra $300 to drop off at a different location. In addition, hotel won't refund the money we spent for the night. And to top it all off, US Airways says that to cancel my flight will cost $180.
Looks like I'm driving 8 hours tonight after all. Mental note: stock up on Red Bull because I have narcolepsy and no one believes me.
It's 1pm and the show is at 7pm. To make it in time, I'll have to be on the road at 3pm. There goes the sleep I was looking forward to.
I take a quick nap, wake up and get ready and start my drive. I forgot to mention that the car charger to my handheld GPS doesn't work. Which means I have to give it a full charge and hope it lasts the 4 hours it takes to get to where I need to be. Luckily, it's one highway all the way down and because of the lifesaving map application on my iPhone, I can bounce between the two.
The road trip wasn't too bad. Scenery was amazing- mountain ranges and the look and smell of autumn which is something we never get here in Florida. Add that to about a pack of Marlboros, a 4 pack of Red Bull, and I'm pretty good so far. I also called Carlos Robson every half hour to chat in the event that something really terrible happens to me and the police come looking, Carlos will know exactly where I was at half hour intervals. Don't judge me. I've watched too many "missing people" shows on TV.
I finally get to WVU Tech and everyone was so accommodating. Prior to the show, however, I wasn't feeling good. I felt very faint and I didn't know why. I felt somewhat nauseous. I call my manager to tell him I was feeling weird and he asks if it's nerves. I know my nerves and how they get before a show and this wasn't it. Add that to the fact that I have 4 Red Bulls in my system and I can't stop thinking about the four hour drive back in the dead of night knowing that I might have narcolepsy and no one believes me and suddenly I'm becoming very afraid of having a panic attack. What if I collapse on stage? Or worse, what if I collapse during my drive back? Remember those "missing people" shows on TV? Yep.
The show went well. No panic attacks and I didn't faint on stage. It was around 9pm when the show ended and I knew I had to get driving back to Pittsburgh. I would have preferred to just stay in Charleston for the night but my flight left from Pittsburgh at 7am so I had no choice but to drive back now. The weird nausea feeling I had somewhat subsided so maybe it WAS just the nerves coupled with Red Bulls.
But of course, the trip won't be that easy just yet.
No. Instead, my GPS decides that instead of leading me back the way I came in, it decides to take me on a different route. Suddenly, I am going through back roads IN THE MOUNTAINS THROUGH THE WOODS. It's dark. It's VERY dark. There are no streetlights. There are no other cars. I am having flashbacks of the "missing people" tv shows. I try to call Carlos. I try to call my wife. I try to call my manager.
I have no signal. Largest 3G network my ass.
I also forgot to mention that every now and then as I am winding through 54 miles of back roads, my headlight will sometimes flash directly to abandoned cabins! There they were- just sitting in the dark. If my car were to die here- if my lights failed- there would be no way I could see anything around me. The Blair Witch movie didn't scare me when I first watched it. Tonight, however, I am crapping my pants. City dwellers like me aren't made for this! (Good news is, my heart is beating so fast that falling asleep at the wheel has become the least of my worries.)
Finally I am out of the mountains and back on the main road 2 hours away from the hotel where I can't wait for the comfort of my own bed. Upon returning, I hurry up to the room, threw my crap down, and fell face first into the bed waiting until my heart stopped beating so fast and then fell asleep waking up just in time for the flight which, of course, would be delayed because, hey, whatever can go wrong, right?
I bet Jay-Z never has to worry about any of this when he travels.
I arrive in Knoxville, TN where I'm picked up by the guys at Maryville College. Finally, I have nothing to worry about anymore since they're picking me up, taking me to my hotel, taking me to my show, then taking me to the airport the next day so I can fly back home. In the car, they ask me, "How's your trip so far?" I let out a sigh because where the hell do I even begin....
(Thank you to both schools: West Virginia University Tech and Maryville College for bringing me out to perform. Despite the craziness of this trip, I had a blast performing for you and will gladly do it again.)
(My hotel in Maryville)
(I love how there's a sign that says "telephone" in case I don't know what this device is)
(Full kitchen. Am I even staying long enough to use it?)
(Gotta love the lonesome roadtrips)
(The guys at Maryville College. They did amazing with the show!)
(Rockstar moment...kinda)
SO AWKWARD
Here's the background story:
I was at the Philippine consulate to gather info on renewing my passport. They say rather than getting info, they say I can actually go ahead and take care of it already to speed up the process. I said sure.
They then say I need new passport photos. Not knowing I would be doing that there (thought I would have to go to Wallgreens or some other passport-photo-taking place), I was led to the back area to take the shots. They had a blue background set up and a camer prepared. Cool- kill two stones with one bird.
They then say I can't wear my Kango (which I wear on days I don't have time to fix my hair). So I take it off to reveal overgrown hair that has been flattened and suddenly, flashbacks of 7 year old bowl haircuts have entered my insecurities.
They then make me take off my super fly Members Only jacket (no jackets, they say) to reveal the white tee I had beneath. They say I can’t wear that either (needs to be a button-up type of shirt). They're solution?? They show me to the two shirts they had on hand for schmucks like us who don't know beforehand what attire is recommended. They then hand me the beige Hawaiian print shirt that most old tourists wear (give me beige shorts, white socks and brown shoes and I’d be set). I said hell-to-the-no! Choosing the less of two evils, I choose the beige PLAID shirt they had to hopefully maintain some sort of gangsta. I even kept the top buttons open to maintain some sort of dignity. Of course, they would have a problem with that and say I have to button it up.
Long story shirt...this is what I end up with:
STACKING STONES
Bring me your tired
Bring me your hungry and your poor
So we came
Huddled our families into commercial jet-planes
Skipped our rocks across oceans
Picked them up on western shores
Stacked them into homes
Built the ceilings as high as our credit scores
Became nurses
Became doctors and engineers
real-estate brokers and devout Catholics
And we never looked back
Liberty's beacon of hope shining so bright before us
We anchored ourselves at her feet
Called ourselves citizen and
Left nothing behind but
The stretching shadow of our past
Tugging at our heels with their empty stomachs
The typhoons coursing through their veins
The mudslides swiped on their cheeks
The rattling of aluminum rooftops pounding beside their heartbeat
The American Dream
Doesn't allow us to think of such things
The anthem we used to sing
Becoming so easy to forget
The Philippine soil beneath our nails
Being wiped clean by
Health benefits and credit card debt
Quick to write checks to pay off our guilt
Learn to swallow perfect English until
Every hint of our accent is washed from our throat
Create a language barrier so tall
The pleading voices on the other side
Is a dialect we don't recognize as our own, but
Who can ignore the hunger?
Who can ignore the rumbling of stomachs that echo from home?
The weight of their bellies heavy from swallowing stones
They search for Jesus in our eyes that we may
Turn those stones to bread
...but we chose to remain silent instead.
As if the floodwaters could never reach our doors
As if we can't imagine having to be the father
Protecting his family from the storm
Praying that the roof isn't as frail as his spirit
Try pretending not to hear it
When a twelve-year-old girl holds her screams when
The shame
Rips through her womb as
Destructive as the tourist that paid her
Imagine her mother
Having to wash that bloody skirt in the river
Her tears falling into the current
Brought over to our beaches with the morning tide
Have you never stopped to question why
The ocean always taste salty?
Have you never wondered
How many bodies could be found at the bottom of canals?
Taste it:
The way malnutrition settles on the mouth like unheard prayers
The way dehydration makes it impossible to shed tears to show how much they hurt
Because while we
Button up our shirts and
Straighten our crooked ties
We can’t hear them pounding our doors from the other side saying
Be careful whom you impress
Because the most sure-fire way to oppress a people
Is to convince them to imitate and adopt
The cultures and values of those who oppress, so
Can you see them when you dress?
Can you hear their silence as loud as your conscience?
Muffled by the mountains of garbage
Lost beneath a parent's broken smile
It still speaks to the heart inside us
How it’s stitched together by the loose strings of our flag
Held by the frail fingers we’ve left behind
They tug
Hoping to pull us back home
They wait
Sitting on the steps of rice terraces
Writing our names in the soil to bring us closer to our roots
We have to return
Bring back everything we've learned
Carry them like rocks on our backs and
Stack the stones
Until the hunger doesn't rumble
Until the tables are set
Until the children's laughter rises into
Anthems we will no longer forget
Stack the stones
Rebuild a nation to stand on its own
Show the world our people have backbones
Tell Lady Liberty
We no longer need to bring you
Our tired, our hungry and our poor
We can take care of that from
Home Read the full story »
Bring me your hungry and your poor
So we came
Huddled our families into commercial jet-planes
Skipped our rocks across oceans
Picked them up on western shores
Stacked them into homes
Built the ceilings as high as our credit scores
Became nurses
Became doctors and engineers
real-estate brokers and devout Catholics
And we never looked back
Liberty's beacon of hope shining so bright before us
We anchored ourselves at her feet
Called ourselves citizen and
Left nothing behind but
The stretching shadow of our past
Tugging at our heels with their empty stomachs
The typhoons coursing through their veins
The mudslides swiped on their cheeks
The rattling of aluminum rooftops pounding beside their heartbeat
The American Dream
Doesn't allow us to think of such things
The anthem we used to sing
Becoming so easy to forget
The Philippine soil beneath our nails
Being wiped clean by
Health benefits and credit card debt
Quick to write checks to pay off our guilt
Learn to swallow perfect English until
Every hint of our accent is washed from our throat
Create a language barrier so tall
The pleading voices on the other side
Is a dialect we don't recognize as our own, but
Who can ignore the hunger?
Who can ignore the rumbling of stomachs that echo from home?
The weight of their bellies heavy from swallowing stones
They search for Jesus in our eyes that we may
Turn those stones to bread
...but we chose to remain silent instead.
As if the floodwaters could never reach our doors
As if we can't imagine having to be the father
Protecting his family from the storm
Praying that the roof isn't as frail as his spirit
Try pretending not to hear it
When a twelve-year-old girl holds her screams when
The shame
Rips through her womb as
Destructive as the tourist that paid her
Imagine her mother
Having to wash that bloody skirt in the river
Her tears falling into the current
Brought over to our beaches with the morning tide
Have you never stopped to question why
The ocean always taste salty?
Have you never wondered
How many bodies could be found at the bottom of canals?
Taste it:
The way malnutrition settles on the mouth like unheard prayers
The way dehydration makes it impossible to shed tears to show how much they hurt
Because while we
Button up our shirts and
Straighten our crooked ties
We can’t hear them pounding our doors from the other side saying
Be careful whom you impress
Because the most sure-fire way to oppress a people
Is to convince them to imitate and adopt
The cultures and values of those who oppress, so
Can you see them when you dress?
Can you hear their silence as loud as your conscience?
Muffled by the mountains of garbage
Lost beneath a parent's broken smile
It still speaks to the heart inside us
How it’s stitched together by the loose strings of our flag
Held by the frail fingers we’ve left behind
They tug
Hoping to pull us back home
They wait
Sitting on the steps of rice terraces
Writing our names in the soil to bring us closer to our roots
We have to return
Bring back everything we've learned
Carry them like rocks on our backs and
Stack the stones
Until the hunger doesn't rumble
Until the tables are set
Until the children's laughter rises into
Anthems we will no longer forget
Stack the stones
Rebuild a nation to stand on its own
Show the world our people have backbones
Tell Lady Liberty
We no longer need to bring you
Our tired, our hungry and our poor
We can take care of that from
Home Read the full story »
SOUTHERN COMFORT
Hours of open road. Living out of a suitcase and jumping hotels. Fast food consumption. Outdated GPS system. Truck stops and rest areas.
I've been touring poetry for a little over three years now and this is the life I lead when the colleges come calling with gigs. Funny part is, I haven't gotten tired of it yet. I love being out on the road- meeting new people and having somewhat of a rockstar status (without the salary, the hot girls, the groupies, the private jets, the sold out stadiums). Crap...maybe I'm not a rockstar after all.
I don't know why I enjoy it so much...I always end up missing my wife when I'm gone, I know I'll have a ton of crap to do when I get home, the hotels aren't always as nice and I get tired- really tired. But maybe it's the chance to do what I love for a living. Or maybe it's like some sort of vacation from the everyday grind and a chance to escape for a bit. Maybe it's the people I meet along the way and the new places I get to visit.
This time I took my brother-in-law and guitarist, Jollan. We had a blast. It was a good bonding experience for brothers-in-law to get to know each other better...like the fact that despite my warning him to stop taking so many pictures because we look like tourists in unfamiliar territory thus increasing our chances of getting mugged, he's not going to listen anyway. It's good he did though- because at least now we have more pictures to look back on. Maybe I'm just a wimp.
(Does a bathroom need double doors? Is that to make a grand entrance to the toilet?)
The tour started out with our 8 hour drive from our home in Ft. Lauderdale up to Savannah, Ga. We decided to make a stop in Jacksonville and hit up Mo's spot at SoHo. It was amazing...intimate crowd that made the noise the size of a stadium. Anyone ever wanting to stop in Jax should hit him up to get on the stage. Jax people really know how to appreciate poetry. Even better was I was able to snag a 4 star hotel in Jax through HotWire for $70!! That's pretty rockstar I guess.
(Thanks for having us Mo!)
Our next show was the following evening at Armstrong Atlantic South Univ. (thanks to David Warren and the rest of CUB for bringing us out!). To make the show even more spectacular, we were graced with the presence of Slam Charlotte who drove down from, well, Charlotte to be a part of the show (Carlos, Bluz and Q...we're taking over the world, ya'll). Together along with some students, we put on a bangin' show.
(That's pretty rockstar!)
(That's Carlos and Bluz from Slam Charlotte- they're special)
(That's the CUB crew...they're MORE special)
(That's David Warren...the one who brought us out...he's, like, the most specialest)
(Is that a rockstar moment??)
Next day we drove to Atlanta where I was able to snag another 4 star hotel through HotWire for $80 (I love pretending we got $! That is, until we find out there are no vending machines at 4 star hotels and you have to buy your Coke at the gift shop for $3!!)
(This is us trying to make "artistic" photographs with a non-artistic camera)
We had a day off from shows so we went around Little 5 Points and shopped for vintage clothes and Jollan bought a flannel for $12...I had to tell him it's not vintage if it came from Old Navy. Afterwards, we just HAD to go to Gladys' and Ron's Chicken N' Waffles. I've heard tons of stuff about the place and had to go. Any of you who have never had chicken n' waffles, you have to do it at least once in your life. It's AMAZING.
(Welcome to Atlanta...)
(Little 5 Points has GREAT thrift stores)
(You don't go to Atlanta and not eat here...you just don't)
Wednesday, our last day, we drove down to Barnesville for a 2 pm show at Gordon College (thanks to Sharon Lloyd for bringing us back!) I was apprehensive at first- I always am about noon shows because you never know who will show up or if you'll be stuck performing at the college cafeteria but it turned out great! We had an amazing turnout and it was done in their little coffee shop. Everyone was so attentive. I should also add that my old friend Acelyn drove down from Atlanta to watch the show.
(Thanks Gordon College for bringing us)
When the show was done, it was time to head home- a long long long drive home. 10 hours to be exact. All in all, it was amazing and I can't wait to do it again next month. Tennessee, West Virginia and North Carolina- here we come!
Oh yeah, we took some on-the-open-road pics too...
TYPHOON KETSANA
Pictures from Typhoon Ketsana in the Philippines. They say Manila got twice the rainfall as Katrina- that in one day, they received twice the amount of rainfall they would normally receive in two months...
WELCOME!
As part of my 2009 goals, I promised myself I would start a blog- a collection of whatever I might feel like putting up at any given time. Maybe uplifting. Maybe just gripes. Maybe even downright weird. Either way, I hope it gives way to a great experience for me and for you, my readers, who, in some ways, I will feel really sorry for if I waste your precious time with my sometimes nonsense rambling. The expectation is to blog daily (then again, this is all new and so is my enthusiasm)...the goal is to blog weekly...the reality is it might end up being every other week. But no, I won't do that to you or to my passion- I think I at least owe a once a week commitment to my passion for writing. So yes, expect, the weekly. But who knows...the world is huge and there's a vast amount of things we can discuss. Maybe, God-willing, we just might enjoy each other's company so much that we can't stay away from here for more than a day.
I look forward to this journey with you.
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