Chicago- my strange relationship with this wildly large bleeding heart town continues. I did the drive in record time, just over 12 hours. My goal was to break the twelve hour mark, but I'm not sure it can be done. I'm not into speeding much, just enough to get by... I think I can save more time with efficient gas pumping habits -a complicated science- it demands knowledge of the country, and it demands a kind of Kantian rationality -collected and ultimate. Not emotional fast food pit stops, and touristic leaning eyes. Pulling off at the right exit, for the right price, on the right side of the highway, enjoying bad coffee, choosing the right tool-booth... all these things save way more time that going an extra 5 miles and hour.
I guess I had no real reason to make "good time". But damn it, sometimes it just feels good to execute. But I'm here, and tired as hell after some late night escapades with one Nick Wells.
It was a fine reintroduction to the city that I tried to call home once a upon a lonesome year. I rolled into town around 7, and through a thick blanket of fog I Found the exit to Nick's. He came running down his stairs and we immediately got high on feelings of nostalgia. Seeing one of your best friends after too many months away is something I treasure (for better or worse). Sure, we both know that our lives are taking us in different directions, and we know that it's possible that our friendship might soon be burning low. He is married, has a real good job as a teacher; he's growing strong roots here, and I'm proud as hell of him. But I'm just a passer through, I have a different set of eyes and feelings. It's tough for these worlds to collide, I'm wholeheartedly committed to this life even when It cuts me pretty bad. It gets hard for some folks to consider I guess, but Nick and his beautiful wife Mary seem to like that I'm here. This is all I could ask for.
I put on some clean clothes and we went out to a bar called Joey's Brick House. The place was packed and loud... two things that I hate (unless it's my show....) I ended up having a pretty good time and I was surprised by that. Our friend was running the bar, so we stayed late, right till close, even helped count out the cash. We watched a sorry-assed patron almost get the shit kicked right out of him by the staff (well, we were on our feet too....) the result of a poor decision to smash the bathroom mirror and rip off the paper towel dispenser etc. (can you say idiot?) It was pretty hilarious, albeit tense for a minuet or two.
It was a fine way to dig my heels back into this grey city. All those old familiar feelings are sneaking back into my skin, and I know exactly where I am, because I've felt this town a thousand times or more.
Now I'm trying to wade back into that wild pool of friends that are still haunting these streets. I'm afraid that this is won't be an easy task, I'm not sure where I stand with them, if they want me around, if I'm being an inconvenience, if they believe in what I'm doing. Some people are legitimately offended by me. Though they won't tell me, it seems like they think I'm a leech, wasting my time, burning at both ends. The problem is that most of them have no idea how much I need them. They are in effect the songs that I sing, they belong to them. Not to be a total cheesedick about community, but on the road, life can get awful lonely. I'll take whatever kind of community I can get... even if it's illusory, or weak, or just cold. I try my best to tread with light feet on people's lives, but I also want to participate in them if I can. I think songs are supposed to help with this, I'm just a transmitter a historian with poetic hunger.
Tonight was a tough one, got let down by a good friend. I understand why she doesn't want to see me, but it hurts none the less, and it has really helped fuel the lonely fire that I keep when I'm out here as a passer through. Don't want to say too much more about that here, I know I can be an insensitive bastard sometimes but sleep seems better than that right now.
For my quote I choose a simple one it's Townes again, sorry, if you're tired of me talking on and on about Townes. He said this in an interview back in the 80's
Being a folk singer is 90% driving and 10% singing.
I couldn't have said it better. I guess it's good that I like the highway pretty well.
over and out.
-Del
