FXHL+NTRSTS in Lampasas, Texas (Derek absent, as he’s behind the camera)

So we’re finishing Day Six of our eight-day tour de force… Going on the road is a real gamble, as you have to rely on people you’ve never met, in towns you’ve never visited, to set up and promote the shows you’re going to be playing. The show in Houston, for instance, was pretty successful though no one there’d heard of us; the next night in Austin, musical capital of the Southwest, was more or less a flop as far as actual concertgoers and merchandise sales are concerned.

We got done playing here in Abilene, Texas, a couple hours ago (the last band is rockin’ it out right now), and though there was a good size audience, our music didn’t seem to connect with many of them. Mostly high-school and young-college-age kids here… and I wonder if it’s the music or the image: Older guys with beards, who aren’t dressed “cool,” and who don’t do much cool dancing/headbanging/whatever on stage. I was talking to Kyle from Interstates (our touring partners), who has been in the indie rock scene for nearly 15 years now, and we decided performing is a little bit hopeless for us. Not that it’s impossible to find some good shows here or there, but how do we appeal to people like us? WE don’t go to shows.

But driving through parts of the country I’ve never seen… that’s been the fun part. The van has continued to work despite it’s age and abuse; the band has kept up good spirits and had hardly any cross words, despite sleeping on floors and eating very little. It’s also neat, in a bittersweet way, to be away from Shelley and Lewis. It makes me realize how much I do love and appreciate them, and how much they add to my life, and I get a double-shot of pleasure: Thankful to be on tour, able to drive around and play music for a week; and thankful to be nearing the end of it, headed home to reunite with my love and my son.

P.S.: Yes, the above picture is a bit like “The Last Supper,” not only because of the surreal sort of focus but also because Topp looks a lot like Westerners think Jesus did. Texas is a weird place. Wonder what Oklahoma’s like? I’ll find out tomorrow.

I’m a Mac person. So are a lot of my friends, colleagues and readers. Generally, I like Mac’s programs (iPhoto, Mail, etc.) and the simple, intuitive nature in which they work. I use Mac’s Safari browser for most of my Webbing, and it generally keeps me happy. However, for some reason it just doesn’t know how to deal with my blog posting—video links, for instance, never work if I compose my blog entry in Safari, though there are at least five other problems I’ve run into.

So I use Firefox to post (I’m using it now), and it generally does what I want it to do.

Now Shelley is a PC person, and in fact we just bought a new Compaq laptop for her, and it’s running Windows Vista. Of course, it comes setup with Microsoft’s Internet Explorer, which I’ve always found to be the worst browser on the planet. But the new look of Vista—along with all the Safari features that the Big M has ripped off—reassured me, and I didn’t install anything else.

So, I arrived at home yesterday to find Shelley irritated over her attempt at blog posting—via Internet Explorer—on the family blog; basically, the formatting of the pictures and text wasn’t coming out anything like the preview. I immediately said, “Let’s download Firefox,” and she, frustrated, said, “Well, we’ll do it when I’m done, but I’m gonna fix this now because if people look at the blog I don’t want it to be all jacked up.” So I went ahead and fixed my lunch, while she continued to post, evaluate, edit, repost, and so on, adding minimal hard returns and such to try to get the alignment corrected.

It was at this point that I wondered, “How can we possibly be so different?”

In my mind, it would’ve made more sense to stop editing and just download and install Firefox—a task that later took me less than 3 minutes—and then use Firefox to edit the blog. What was the likelihood that anyone was going to look at the blog during that 3 or 5 minutes of bad alignment, whilst Firefox was being installed? Virtually none, I think.

All this to say: Other people are often the biggest stumbling block to my faith. I have no doubt whatsoever of a creator; I know enough about the history and origins of the Bible to trust it. But every time I deal with someone (anyone) who acts in a way that’s incomprehensible to me, I have the strong urge to turn individualistically new-age: Is all this a dream, and I’m the only real person? Is it some sort of cosmic challenge, in which I’m tested on my dealings with people whose entire way of thinking is (to my mind) broken? The difference in thought I’ve mentioned may not seem significant… but what about the many employees I’ve had, to whom it hasn’t occurred to change a light bulb if it burns out? The reporters who don’t understand why “The festival included many activities, like ring toss, face-painting, etc.” gives the impression that the festival didn’t actually include those activities? The Dairy Queen employee who wouldn’t make my wife a Mocha Chip Blizzard® because it wasn’t on the menu, despite the fact that they had all the ingredients?

I have a hard time believing these people are real in the sense that I’m real. I can understand differences of opinion on politics, religion, art, music, etc. But I really can’t fathom that so many people would operate in such senseless ways. It causes me a lot of grief, really, and a lot of wondering what God is up to, exactly. Were I to meet him, maybe I’d get the same vibe from him.

I’ll be surprised if anyone’s reading my blog anymore, simply because I haven’t updated it in weeks. Sorry about that… I’m sure you’ve found something better to read in the meantime. In case of full-on Justin withdrawal, I suggest you check out some of the links on the right… lots of good stuff there.

Anyway, part of the problem has been a continually surging stress level. My right-hand at Spencer’s is being amputated soon, and I’m really anxious about finding a replacement—not a prosthesis, but a fulling-working part with good firm digits and quick reflexes. Added to that was Foxhole tour, which took us in a circle from Bowling Green to Bushnell, Ill., then to Mt. Pleasant, Mich., Cincinnati and Louisville.

[youtube=http://youtube.com/watch?v=nRKxs1UiHeM]Playing music often turns out to be a real zero-sum proposition… we make some money on sales and shows, but our van guzzles gas and leaves us breaking even, at best. Meanwhile we spend hours driving from one city to the next, usually to find: a crowd of 30-80 people, many of them uninterested in the actual music; a venue that’s talked up what a great show it’ll be, only to come at the end of the night with much less money than they led us to believe; a promoter who said “I love your music!” who doesn’t take the simple steps to make sure things run smoothly, sound levels are right, and that people will actually show up.

It’s really, really frustrating, actually… I get myself pumped up for these outings, and they always sort of disappoint. I imagine a culture where artists are appreciated and are compensated properly… I’m not asking for punk-rock welfare here, just an understanding that creating and performing music takes a lot of hard work and that it’s worth more than $3 and a “good show, man” at the end of the night.

Granted, it’s a free market, and there are a few bands who can afford to pay for their meals, gas, even some entertainment with the earnings from their shows, and still have some money left over. But the market is way oversaturated and, on our end, we’re way too busy to pull some major marketing coup. It’s tough, too, for me to stay enthusiastic and to find the time to write and rehearse when all my bandmates are in Nashville; they, meanwhile, are plenty busy and aren’t as proactively minded as me, and so we tread water more often than not.

It wasn’t like this before, and I’m having a hard time adjusting. My strange day/night schedule at the newspaper was the first blow, marriage was the second and Lewis is a big one at No. 3. I’ve such fond memories of practicing and just jamming around with my bandmates on a semi-daily basis… my mind likes to forget that I was constantly down about not having a true love! Grass is always greener when you don’t have to cut it.

Monday is a great day to have off work. While most people are crawling out of bed, starting their weeks again by heading off to work—with five whole burden-laden days in sight!—the off-on-Monday man gets to rest easy, knowing he’s in the minority in his little town.

If he decides to go to the store—or even, in the worst-case scenario, the MALL(!)—he’s one of few. He doesn’t have to wait in line like the weekend warriors… he just does as he pleases, with minimal traffic in either road or walkway obstructing his path.

This man is me. Usually.

Today, however, my most reliable employee was feeling under the weather, and as I otherwise have a crop of newbies, I had to suck it up, jump out of bed at 6:30 and head down to the shop. Not the way I was hoping to spend my day off… but that’s the price of being the Coffee King of Bowling Green. (Bad TV commercial featuring me, who has no business on camera, coming soon.)
Meanwhile, I realize I’m more like the unreliable employees I’ve fired over the years… calling in sick, or just not showing up, more often than not. Not at work, of course; I’ve got an image to uphold of the able-bodied überkompetant. But in my marriage, my friendships, my creativity… let’s be honest: it’s just easier to stay in bed.

Monday is a great day to have off work. While most people are crawling out of bed, starting their weeks again by heading off to work—with five whole burden-laden days in sight!—the off-on-Monday man gets to rest easy, knowing he’s in the minority in his little town.

If he decides to go to the store—or even, in the worst-case scenario, the MALL(!)—he’s one of few. He doesn’t have to wait in line like the weekend warriors… he just does as he pleases, with minimal traffic in either road or walkway obstructing his path.

This man is me. Usually.

Today, however, my most reliable employee was feeling under the weather, and as I otherwise have a crop of newbies, I had to suck it up, jump out of bed at 6:30 and head down to the shop. Not the way I was hoping to spend my day off… but that’s the price of being the Coffee King of Bowling Green. (Bad TV commercial featuring me, who has no business on camera, coming soon.)
Meanwhile, I realize I’m more like the unreliable employees I’ve fired over the years… calling in sick, or just not showing up, more often than not. Not at work, of course; I’ve got an image to uphold of the able-bodied überkompetant. But in my marriage, my friendships, my creativity… let’s be honest: it’s just easier to stay in bed.