Drone shot by Jorma Kaukonen
I’ve been sort of lying fallow here for the past couple of weeks. Time spares none of us the vicissitudes of life in indeed sometimes they are easier to ignore than others. Sometimes they are not. Age is relentless and as I’ve noted before some days I find myself saying goodbye more than hello. That’s just the way it has been so far, and it is a blessing for me to be here to make note of it. There’s lots of news but sad to say most of it is just not uplifting.
I take note of all these things every day. My young children require it. Nothing escapes their notice, and that is as it should be. Jack and I are getting ready to hit the road and of course we have been more than looking forward to it. To me the sound of music always offers hope on some level and It is my honor to be able to be part of the presentation. As an older artist, the preparation required to maintain the standards I require of myself is demanding for an eighty something year old. I have been given a gift and I try not to waste it on a daily basis. That I am still able to show up in aspect and attribute (as Jack Vance said in To Live Forever) is not much short of a miracle.
Once out on the road life’s requirements distill themselves into a simple routine. At home with a teenage daughter just short of her driving license Mr. Mom stays busy on a daily basis. Of course, the Real Mom is busy with such each and every day 24/7. I didn’t have these responsibilities as a younger man and I have to say, I relish them today.
That said, the bus will await in four or five days and we will be on our way to Jackson Hole. I have traversed this great country of ours many times over the years and it never gets old. Even I-70 through Kansas has its majesty. It’s like being Benny Profane, the human yo-yo in Thomas Pynchon’s V. Where’s Pig Bodine now that I need him. World events will move to the back pages as we follow the road where the blacktop meets the blue. Reality will reassert itself every time we spend over a thousand dollars to fill the tanks with diesel fuel. That’s a hard reality to ignore, but it is the cost of doing business today. As time goes in, the tour bus may become an unaffordable dinosaur. My motorcycle is becoming less of a toy and more a mode of transportation like it is in the rest of the world.
I think I’ll see when the kiddo wants to go to town.
More will be revealed.