On Passion and Reason

i love my guitar, but i hate traveling with it.

i remember traveling with my pool cue, and after what seemed like hours of diatribe, i was forced to check it with my other bags for they feared my ninja like abilities would make some passengers nervous. no problem. i let delta check it reluctantly, but not without insuring it for $10,000 hehe. i was actually praying that they would misplace it. i was sending mental messages to the throwers (baggage handlers) in hopes that they would somehow snap the pool cue in it’s case into two. i of course insured it out of spit towards the girl at the front desk who made me check it. i distinctly remember her saying something along the lines of “that piece of wood!? just check it, it’ll be fine…”. in order to retain my own honor, and that of my pool cue (roughly estimated retail value, $300) i blurbed out something along the lines of “that ‘piece of wood’ is worth $10,000!!!”. the truth of the matter was, i could really have cared less about my pool cue, as i was to get a better one later on, and never even got to play on that trip. how awesome would it have been if my $300 turned into $10,000 due to some baggage handlers mistake. should i be typing about this? it’s actually starting to sound very illegal… if by some chance i suddenly disappear, know that the feds are probably questioning me…

when i was 16, i remember traveling overseas with my cello. my cello would always get its own seat. sometimes my cello would even sit in first class, while i sat in the back of the plane. you think i’m kidding, but i’m not. this 18th century italian “piece of wood” would get pampered and carried around like royalty. i swear i saw a stewardess serve my cello wine once… traveling with my guitar on the other hand, is usually a whole other stressful ordeal. it varies on whether or not i get lucky, but up to now, i’ve always somehow managed to land, guitar unscathed. among musicians, there are horror stories of instruments landing in separate states. half of the guitar in seattle, the other half in mississippi… about once a year on the news, you’ll hear or read in the paper of some school band field trip ruined by the airlines negligence. after traveling so much, it gets to the point where you ask yourself “when is that going to be me?”.

whenever i’m headed to some “popular” city, the chances are that i’m not the only one on the plane who’s bringing their guitar along. there is always that awkward, but very familiar look between myself, and the “other guy”. like a cold stare down in a spaghetti western: there’s not room enough on this plane for both of our instruments…tumbleweed rolls across screen. this is the most crucial part. the part where i convince the airline crew to make an exception for me and my guitar. you wouldn’t believe this process even if i told you in detail. i have to keep some secrets to myself, but once i told the pilot that i was a certain famous pop star, and they bought it. gave me first class upgrade for free, and tons of booze. i let the business guy next to me in on it, and he thought it was freakin hilarious. another time i was traveling, and the backstreet boyz of brazil were on the same plane. i spoke broken portuguese and pretended to be with them to get my guitar on. once i even mustered tears, crying of how it was my livelihood. “would you check your first born child in the bottom of a plane!?!?!?!” ha! i’d like to thank the academy… i’m not sure what i’m going to do this time around, but it’s about that time to start thinking of ideas and stories. i love my guitar too much for it to get injured or put out of commission. that, and i’m currently scheduling a few intimate acoustic shows in a town near you - some with extra special guest! stay tuned for details. and on that note - i’m off to write! i miss you guys and gals!
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