Normally I suffer from horrendous anxiety the two weeks preceding any tour. Nightmares of bombed performances and crashed vans plague me by night, and by day I’m trying to get awesome quick by doing a hundred squats and guitar exercises. I’ve been trying to keep my neurosis in check these days (I already wrote an entire album about it after all…) but I have my moments. The other day when I was cleaning out the van and trying to learn French at the same time, my dog approached me with a big drooly smile, and as I stepped out of the van with a bag of trash in my hands and an ancient 10-pound iPod shoved into my bra, I tripped and stepped right on a bee. I was wearing flip flops so my foot wasn’t spared any pain.
Cut to 24 hours later and I am sitting in the van, unshowered, teeth not brushed, staring at my giant, itchy, red foot. I love actually being on tour, but in some cases there’s quite a long drive to get to tour and it’s not glamorous. I envy men who generally look the same from day to day. Ben for instance (husbandbassplayerextraordinairre) can stay up all night driving and drinking “Red Thunder” (off brand Red Bull) and listening to classical and just come out of it looking rugged and studly. We go into the gas station and the lady at the counter inquires where he’s going looking so manly and musician like. I’m Italian and blessed with a nice EVOO sheen to my face, which after 13 hours in a van can cause blindness so when I get up to the counter they generally want to know who I’m on the run from.
That’s all in the past for now, though, and we’re in Tulsa OK to play the Mercury Lounge, our first show of a month long tour with Scott H. Biram. Our 2 week run with him over the winter was a blast so I imagine this’ll be twice the fun. I’m gonna go strap a cold beer to my foot.