Houston, Tx!

I’ll admit, I’m not really in Houston anymore- but one day off- it’s like the 5 second rule when eating something after dropping it on the floor. Or paying a bill late and back dating the check…. we all do that, right? 

I think I wiped myself out with enthusiasm over Austin, tried to save up some juice for New Orleans, and in the middle sat Houston. Not that there was anything wrong with Houston. On the contrary. Much extended band family lives there and provide us with lots of love and good times. And “puppy chow.” I’d never heard of the stuff until the Woodlands, and then it was everywhere. Powdery cereal bombs. Captain crack. Hopefully the crew has the remaining sack- they have a heartier constitution than us band nerds. 

Yesterday provided the final arc of this tour- as New Orleans is our final destination before home. So I’m happy that there was one more parking lot morning- sunny coffee with the kind bus drivers awaiting their nocturnal sleep. (Whenever I feel sorry for myself about sleeping in a pod on wheels and then see these dudes in the morning, having protected our lives all night behind the wheel and still being all nice… well, I remember that they’re the bus drivers and we’re the grown up babies.)

Like a lot of other days, after a good strong bus coffee I found a “room” to put my mat down. I only hesitate about calling these places rooms because the whole backstage area of large venues or sports arenas tend to feel like….. empty cereal boxes? Like huge weird forts made by robots. Showroom furniture and industrial sized tables, thin carpets and little natural light. And then the travelling circuses show up for the day and fill up some of the emptiness with characteristic doo-dads. Like almond butter and towels.  So I’m in the empty-est room, between all sorts of large un-used furniture. Practicing yoga. Trying to get those amazing bus sleep kinks out. Sometimes when my body is really toured out and I’m practicing yoga, it just takes over and tells me what to do. Whatever plan I had gives over to the voice of my body- hey asshole, slow down and do a spinal twist!

So it was one of those days. I let myself be toured into another place, let my body do some yoga, followed the people around and ate stuff, and played the music. And even with that, you can let the music take the lead too. It’s still you, up there, giving everything and being focused, just more passive. It’s one of my end of tour modes. Funny, describing that feeling brings it out even more. My brain actually just pictured floating in the sea. Like hard core, doing nothing, bobbing in the waves. 

Ok brain, here’s the thing. We’re in New Orleans and it’s Jazz Fest and it’s brilliant here. There are alligators! You just saw Cyndi Lauper laying it down all hard and blues! And Wilco’s sooo good! And tomorrow is one more show then no more shows. Your sensory deprivation tank of a brain will just have to hold off on the fuzzies until next week. 

(And just as I decide the intelligent thing to do is to go to sleep, the most ridiculous car alarm goes off- forever. Aaaaah party people)

xo Sarah