Gone and back again

There are a few things that make me question my self assuredness about how lucky I am to do what I do. Among them are 6am flights to the East coast requiring me to leave the warm, cozy embrace of my girlfriend's bed at 3:30am. Also included on that list would be my least favorite part of traveling for a living: Christmas. It's not so much the holiday I'm not a fan of, it's the saccharine music that becomes America's sonic wallpaper. At the moment, I'm sitting in OAK at gate 7, listening to a psudo-Steely Dan version of "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen," complete with synthesized nylong string guitar straight out of a bad hip-hop track and the slap bass part that Kenny G's bass player thought was too sappy for his last chart topping adult contempojazz smash. I'm not sure which is worse, having to hear this drivel or getting into its groove, only to be startled out of it by the harsh female voice telling me to report anything suspicious to the Transportation Security Administration.

At times like these, I also think about my going away ritual. Why do I take special care to tell Rae Rae and the dogs that I love them? I'm extra careful to tell them I love them for the same reason my dad balanced the books and paid the bills before he left for a business trip: 'cause you never know. Trips away from home make you realize how much you count on those around you and how much happier they make your life. I suppose it's important to tell them you love them because, however unlikely, it is possible that you may not see them again.

I'm coming off a nine-day vacation after two months of solid touring during which time we did a run of 42 shows in 50 days. For those of you who don't know, I've taken a touring monitor gig with Carolina Liar, an alternative rock band. Bill, our tour manager, and I--and to a lesser extent Johan the keyboard player and Randy the fill-in drummer--put roughly 25,000 miles on the van in 9 weeks. That works out to almost 3000 miles a week!

My second Carolina Liar tour will be a lightning two week run of radio dates, culminating in a sold out show at the Crystal Ballroom,my old stomping grounds. I'm excited to come back thru the Crystal with a band. The crew is aces, and filled with my close friends, and the venue itself, while presenting a distinct set of production challenges, possesses great atmosphere, founded on its the bouncy floor. Get 1500 pogoing punk rockers up therelike at an MXPX or Flogging Molly show and you'll see the Crystal's floor travel up to a foot!

For our last meal together for a few weeks, Rachel took me out to La Méditeranée, a mediterranean restaurant in Berkeley. We had a couple of combo plates, which included the obligatory baba ganoujh, tabouleh, stuffed grape leaves, and hummus, as well as these interesting fillo dough wrap things filled with chicken, lamb, cheese and spinach. The food was pretty good, although the service was god-awful. Nevertheless, the unbeatable company more than made up for the inadequacies of the wait staff. Also, it was nice to find somewhere with heated outdoor dining like Portland's Pambiche , our favorite Cuban restaurant.

For dessert, we went to an incredible gourmet ice cream parlor down the street called Içi . Rachel ordered three scoops of ice cream, the divine coffee-hazelnut, the delicate but intense earl grey, and the tangy lime mint sorbet. The combination was oddly delicious, especially because the flavors were so pure. Each item really tasted like its name, not a close, artificial approximation of it, filtered thru sugar. I had an eggnog ice-cream sandwich, with ginger snap cookies. It was deliciously decadent.

Overall, a delicious end to a fantastic week. I'll post more about our adventures as today progresses, but right now I have to board a plane for Denver.

A plus tard.