My first tour... even though I was heading 'home', this was my first experience of a week on the road playing night after night to a different audience in a different town. I'm happy to report we were warmly received everywhere we went and had a string of great shows!
Here's a slideshow you can use to get a visual taste of the variety of places we visited:
I sold a lot of CDs, made some new fans and reconnected with old... but some of the more amusing anecdotes of course came during the day to day grind, particularly my darling Andre Fratto, who played bass on this trip while also serving as album producer in residence and on display.
Dear Andre hasn't spent much time in the South, unlike the rest of us guarding our precious 5 cubic feet of space in the minivan. In fact, he confidently told all that he had lived in Mexico for 2 years when asked about previous visits to 'the South'! All of you who have lived below the Mason Dixon I'm sure are rolling your eyes right now, just as we did.
So you can imagine our amusement as Andre marched into each filling station convenience store we stopped at to request a New York Times - and was not only disappointed but surprised when he was met with a blank stare (or even mildly angry reproach).
On a separate occasion I would have paid money to have my camera handy when we arrived at Whaleys, my old stomping ground where I cut my musical teeth on Edisto Beach, SC. Part of the beauty of the Whaleys experience is that it actually used to be a filling station and while it has now converted fully to a restaurant and bar (star rating system doesn't really apply), when I first started playing there I used to stare directly at a cooler of milk gallons for sale across the room while sitting at my keyboard. Classic.
Anyway, the story goes: we walk in and I see Van, the owner, and give him a hug to say hi and discuss the setup. Andre then approaches in search of directions to the bathroom. Without hesitating to think about it, I gave him truthful instructions and respond, 'Outside'.
Now the crowd that gathers at Whaleys is a truly friendly bunch, but I forget that all of the steel toe boots and grizzly beards might be a little intimidating to someone who's been deprived of a New York Times for days on end... So when I saw Andre's expression in response to the thought of wandering into the dark bushes out back to relieve himself I had to laugh out loud!
I think Whaleys actually turned out to be one of Andre's favorite gigs once he discovered there were still doors on the restroom.
I, myself, thoroughly enjoyed being back in the South - got some good food, played some good music and saw lots of smiling friendly faces. What else could you ask for??
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