Last night I watched a bit of one of the Wolverine movies with Jerry, then went to my bunk. Wolverine is the modern sci-fi version of Clint Eastwood, and I always liked Clint Eastwood. I think it was about 1am before sleep hit. I woke up too early, around 6:30am, tried to go back to sleep but stayed awake, so I read a couple of Chesterton essays in Tremendous Trifles on my iPhone Kindle app. I’ve never read an author who is at the same time a humorist, a poet, a philosopher, a theologian, and so unreservedly human, through and through. C.S. Lewis is most of these at differing times, but Chesterton combines them continually. He is a poet writing prose. He makes me think thoughts that have never entered my head.
I popped out of bed to write some background for the upcoming banjo record, talking about influences, my musical history, instruments, and whatnot. It’s always thought-provoking to dig back into the past and see the roads that led us to this present moment. My road involves many people who saw potential in me, spoke into me, and gave me good information and musical influences.
The bus was still rolling at nearly 11am. We rolled through Reno, through Donner Pass, and down I-80 past my old stomping grounds – Auburn, Meadow Vista, and Highway 49 to Grass Valley. I lived in this area and lived a Huck Finn sort of life, fishing, hiking, swimming (but I did go to school) from around 1972-1977.
People began moving about the bus, making food and coffee. I had already made my patented hot chocolate (I didn’t need it, just wanted it. I can quit anytime). Before that I drank water in which I put a green superfood powder. It tastes okay going down but the aftertaste is something less than enthralling. But as I’ve told my kids, “Not everything you eat has to be the best tasting thing you’ve ever had. Sometimes we need to eat things just for the nutrition. Otherwise it’s like never changing the oil in the car because ‘I don’t feel like it.’”
We rolled through Sacramento and stopped for fuel. Van is a relentless driver, stopping only when necessary. As we came closer to San Jose, and Cupertino, our day’s destination, the topography changed to rolling, brownish-green hills, scattered palm trees, oaks, and scattered houses. California, my home state, has many beautiful areas.
Today is Father’s Day. My family had our celebration last Sunday because I was going on the road. I wouldn’t trade being a father to my kids for anything in this world. They’ve been huge sources of blessing, love, joy, and growth in my life. Some say marriage will knock a lot of the selfishness out of you, but fathering has a way of stomping out the embers and the various forms of spontaneous combustion that happen. The love and desire for their well-being grows bigger than love of one’s own self. I think that is why we are given a love for our children that is so fierce and passionate, unless something inside us has been so broken by our own upbringing that we cannot see beyond our own pain. Happy Father’s Day to all the fathers out there, first and foremost my own Dad.
The bus rolled on through San Jose and into Cupertino. I remember being here a couple of years at the Whole Foods and Fabio was there promoting a health product or a book. He looked Fabio.
We got to the hotel. The bus had to park ¾ of a mile away, so that meant gather up everything I might need and bring all in at once, which I did.
I went to Whole Foods, ostensibly to buy a juice but mainly to have a destination for my walking. Chocolate powder was one of the purchases. Target was on the way, and I had heard of this glue/rubber stuff they sell now called Sugru, from the U.K., and wanted to get some to try. Allegedly it is moldable for 30 minutes and then it begins to harden, and you can fix and modify all kinds of things with it. Look it up.
I spent some of the afternoon booking plane flights. After the tour ends in Berkeley on July 23rd, I’m flying with my son down to Ontario, California to mix Hogan’s House of Music, the new banjo record, with Eric Uglum at New Wine Studios. My wife and daughter fly in and we will visit my Dad and the rest of my family for a few days, and we’ll all fly home.
The guitar was out for a good hour or hour and a half, and I worked on learning on some solos from Merle Haggard records. It is always better to work on something one can’t do than to replay things one can already play.
After that I had a sort of notion to go downstairs to see if any of the guys were in the restaurant, and I was correct. Chris and Mike were down there, and we solved one-third of the problems of the universe in an hour and a half.
So here I am now, back at the room, with the day winding down. I may break out the Tele banjo for a bit, possibly catch up on some writing I’m supposed to do, and if there is time I can catch a movie. Bus call downstairs at 12pm to go to the venue – The Mountain Winery, in Saratoga. My cousins are coming tomorrow, haven’t seen them in too long.
I popped out of bed to write some background for the upcoming banjo record, talking about influences, my musical history, instruments, and whatnot. It’s always thought-provoking to dig back into the past and see the roads that led us to this present moment. My road involves many people who saw potential in me, spoke into me, and gave me good information and musical influences.
The bus was still rolling at nearly 11am. We rolled through Reno, through Donner Pass, and down I-80 past my old stomping grounds – Auburn, Meadow Vista, and Highway 49 to Grass Valley. I lived in this area and lived a Huck Finn sort of life, fishing, hiking, swimming (but I did go to school) from around 1972-1977.
People began moving about the bus, making food and coffee. I had already made my patented hot chocolate (I didn’t need it, just wanted it. I can quit anytime). Before that I drank water in which I put a green superfood powder. It tastes okay going down but the aftertaste is something less than enthralling. But as I’ve told my kids, “Not everything you eat has to be the best tasting thing you’ve ever had. Sometimes we need to eat things just for the nutrition. Otherwise it’s like never changing the oil in the car because ‘I don’t feel like it.’”
We rolled through Sacramento and stopped for fuel. Van is a relentless driver, stopping only when necessary. As we came closer to San Jose, and Cupertino, our day’s destination, the topography changed to rolling, brownish-green hills, scattered palm trees, oaks, and scattered houses. California, my home state, has many beautiful areas.
Today is Father’s Day. My family had our celebration last Sunday because I was going on the road. I wouldn’t trade being a father to my kids for anything in this world. They’ve been huge sources of blessing, love, joy, and growth in my life. Some say marriage will knock a lot of the selfishness out of you, but fathering has a way of stomping out the embers and the various forms of spontaneous combustion that happen. The love and desire for their well-being grows bigger than love of one’s own self. I think that is why we are given a love for our children that is so fierce and passionate, unless something inside us has been so broken by our own upbringing that we cannot see beyond our own pain. Happy Father’s Day to all the fathers out there, first and foremost my own Dad.
The bus rolled on through San Jose and into Cupertino. I remember being here a couple of years at the Whole Foods and Fabio was there promoting a health product or a book. He looked Fabio.
We got to the hotel. The bus had to park ¾ of a mile away, so that meant gather up everything I might need and bring all in at once, which I did.
I went to Whole Foods, ostensibly to buy a juice but mainly to have a destination for my walking. Chocolate powder was one of the purchases. Target was on the way, and I had heard of this glue/rubber stuff they sell now called Sugru, from the U.K., and wanted to get some to try. Allegedly it is moldable for 30 minutes and then it begins to harden, and you can fix and modify all kinds of things with it. Look it up.
I spent some of the afternoon booking plane flights. After the tour ends in Berkeley on July 23rd, I’m flying with my son down to Ontario, California to mix Hogan’s House of Music, the new banjo record, with Eric Uglum at New Wine Studios. My wife and daughter fly in and we will visit my Dad and the rest of my family for a few days, and we’ll all fly home.
The guitar was out for a good hour or hour and a half, and I worked on learning on some solos from Merle Haggard records. It is always better to work on something one can’t do than to replay things one can already play.
After that I had a sort of notion to go downstairs to see if any of the guys were in the restaurant, and I was correct. Chris and Mike were down there, and we solved one-third of the problems of the universe in an hour and a half.
So here I am now, back at the room, with the day winding down. I may break out the Tele banjo for a bit, possibly catch up on some writing I’m supposed to do, and if there is time I can catch a movie. Bus call downstairs at 12pm to go to the venue – The Mountain Winery, in Saratoga. My cousins are coming tomorrow, haven’t seen them in too long.