Shinybass Journal Entry 12/23/24

 

 

 

 

Souvenirs 

 

When I started touring, I was fascinated with visiting places I had never been. When you jump in with a band based out of Hattiesburg, Mississippi, the towns you pass on the way to the gigs aren’t exactly on the must-see list. In a bit of arrogance, I would think ‘Why would anyone want to go to a town named Toomsuba or Cuba? Of course, to the untrained, Ibiza doesn’t sound very inviting, either.  

 

At least that’s how I saw things when I was younger. Fast forward to touring today, and I try to get out and see a small part of every town we visit. Sometimes a small part is all the town has, which is fine. In the countless miles put on my sneakers and my bike, I only found one town that had nothing exciting to see. I mean, I searched. Nothing. And before you ask, I can’t even remember where it was or the name. Wiped from the search history.  

 

As our touring circles got a little bigger, we started seeing more of the country. (Side note – I know being in a van and trailer is the starting point; the lowest level of touring, but once you are in that tour bus you will see a lot less of the road. You’ll be facing each other or a TV in the front lounge, not looking out the windows. Just a heads up.) Different landscapes crawled by, and we went from the ‘Pine Belt’ to the ‘Rust Belt’ to the mountains and across the plains. We dreaded the drive (and truth be told I DID NOT pull my fair time behind the wheel) and just like with any job where travel is a daily grind, you hope for any glimmer of landscape change.  

 

We were able to get to Colorado Springs (Thanks Jennie!) and see actual mountains, not the Arkansas ‘hills’ we traveled every month to do our time in Little Rock and Fayetteville. We lived the inebriated life of Put-In-Bay, OH, and made it to New York City, where we had fruitless label meetings. Here were the Mississippi bumpkins with a van and trailer in New York, our mode of transportation making parking impossible. Our esteemed TM Dave dropped us off and told us he would try and park and come back for the meetings. When we hopped out of the van, he was sweet and nice, and a few hours later when he picked us up, he was cursing and honking the horn like he grew up in the 5 Boroughs, telling us he had literally been driving around for 3 hours. He missed the meetings, and didn’t care about scenery, just getting out of Manhattan.  

 

After years of being out, I realized I didn’t have a lot to ‘remember’ the trips; the odd T-shirt from a bar maybe, (Richard Noggins? Really?), and I thought maybe I wanted to start collecting something. I started with coffee mugs. That got out of hand pretty fast. I liked the thought of drinking out of said mug and remembering the trip, but before I knew it, I had a cabinet full of mismatched cups from not very exotic locales. A mug from Cuba, Alambama all of a sudden seems more ‘hip’.  

Then I moved on to magnets. They took up less space, and I could put them damn near everywhere (OK, the fridge), and remember the places I visited every time I got snacks. Before too long, the fridge was sort of a mess, and I realized that the best place for those would be on the fridge in the garage. I had friends that brought me magnets, and while appreciated, they weren’t places I had visited, so they became very nice, but again, not exactly ‘it’.   

 

Are we seeing a pattern? Oh, it gets better. When I played the Opry for the first time, I bought a new shirt. I went to the local ‘hip’ (AKA now it makes me vomit) store, and spent too much on a shirt I thought was cool. Then we played the Opry again. And again. I was trying to show respect for the venue and the shows, but I also didn’t need to keep buying things to ‘remember’. I stopped buying new shirts. Some 40 Opry shows later, and I’m glad. I would have had a closet of overpriced, not very cool shirts. (Pro tip: Black T-shirts always win.) 

 

As the years and miles go by, I started FINALLY figuring out the real souvenir in all this travel. That would be the experience. I’m not trying to put any shop out of business, but I think just ‘being’ in these small towns, noticing the details make the journey worthwhile. I don’t even mean the waterfalls or bridges. I’m talking about the ice cream shop that has the original 100-year old tin metal ceiling tiles. Or the chalk drawings in a random alley. The murals that tell the story of the area or even hitting a local garage sale to make sure the crap they are trying to get rid of is the same as the crap I am trying to get rid of. Every town has something to offer (save 1, I believe), and even if it’s a random historical  

 

Don’t sleep on the local bakeries, the taco trucks, and the antique stores. One would think the local music store is a treasure trove, but sadly those are fewer and fewer. I did take home a guitar from Grand Haven, Michigan, and it is one of my favorites. I feel like that guitar called me in that day. Had I stayed put by the hotel, I would have missed the magic.  

 

I still have a couple of mugs that made the cut, although I don’t know how. I think a few magnets made the move as well. Will they make the next move? Probably not, to be honest. I probably still have a 25-year old T-shirt tucked away in the back of the closet as well. What I cherish the absolute most are the memories (and being able to go back a re-read my blogs to remember where I was…), and the places that made all of the travel worthwhile.  

 

My Mom gave me a little advice years ago, and that’s something I ‘mostly’ listened to. She doesn’t want a gift she has to dust. I have taken that approach in getting things for myself. I have enough to do to keep up, and I don’t need a snow globe from Twin Falls to remind me that it’s cold there. You don’t have to dust fudge, right? OK, good.  

 

As we enter the season of ‘get stuff’ and travel, enjoy those precious moments of family time and enjoy the best gift of all: being here.