First time I went on tour was in 1992. I honestly do not know how we survived, let alone made it to gigs on time. We were five teenagers in a van, with no outside connection to the world. I remember we pulled into a mission in New Orleans for directions and they offered us food and shelter thinking we were homeless and lost. That wasn’t far from the truth.
I’m thinking about this because I’m planning a tour right now. And while nominally it’s a tour around the new album — which is pretty heavy and would sound pretty fantastic performed live — I’m not planning on taking any bandmates. Or even playing any music.
Instead, I’m thinking about hopping in the Jeep with my dog — Rigby, a two-year-old blue heeler mix — and heading out on the road to talk.
[Author and dog at the National Arboretum on a rainy day in 2021. Photo by MJ Wojewodzki.]
Yeah. Talk.
I my mind’s eye, I am sitting at a table. There is a small boombox beside me loaded with the cassette of the new album. There is a lamp. Maybe some cool color lights if we got really fancy. I’ve got a microphone. A condenser mic.
And while occasionally pressing play on the boombox, I spend the majority of the time talking. Communicating. Telling stories about where the songs come from. Where the stories about where the songs come from come from. Maybe taking questions, or just breaking down the fourth wall entirely and having a conversation with the audience.
I’m looking to book places like independent bookstores and community art galleries. But my friend Paul said that people might actually like this kind of thing on a normal three-band bill. So, we’ll see who’s game.
Rigby is a bit bigger than she was in that photograph. But she’s a little more sedate as well. As anyone who’s raised a blue heeler will tell you, they are a handful. I think the two of us will make good traveling companions on this tour. And I’ve already gotten the first few venues scouted out. And we have plenty of dog treats.