Never Signing Off

  Wallpaper We had a day off between Greenville and Tampa. Instead of staying in Greenville, we decided to keep driving. We booked a hotel in Tampa for the following night. I didn't even think about where we were staying, but we ended up in the exact same hotel. I know there are other places in Tampa, but I always seem to end up at this one. I head to the reception desk when we arrive. I grab keys for the two rooms and toss Crystal's to her. After checking in, we head to our separate rooms to drop out suitcases off. Jared is in his own room this time, while Frankie and I are booked in the room next to his. Crystal and Charlie are on a different floor entirely. Within minutes, Crystal is down at our room, knocking loudly on the door. Frankie opens it, letting her into our room. “ I want to go to the beach. I want to go swimming, I think.” She announces, looking around the room. I raise my eyebrow. “ It's the first week of May.” I remind her, but she shakes her he...

  The Industry If you've ever been in a band, you know the industry can be fickle. Music is a living creation. By itself, it can be a world of magic, transporting the listener to a different place. The writing process can do the same for its' creator, allowing the expression of feelings that might otherwise be bottled up. Music itself is a gift to all. But the music industry is nothing more than a monster. It feeds off the souls of those foolish enough to get close enough. Those who aspire to be musicians; take note. The industry isn't looking for creative individuals. They aren't looking for words that come from the heart or music the comes from the soul. They aren't interested in ideas or concepts. They are looking for products. They want music that can be manufactured. Names that sound good on the radio or in print. A look that fits with the style. They want a product they can sell . If you arrive with your heart in your hands, they will take it from you....

  Family Matters Frankie agreed to have an album concept by the time the tour was done. The songs and melodies will all be written. He wants to record the rough drafts on his laptop as well. Once home, we're going to New York. We're going to get into the studio right away and record our parts. Then, the label will have the album. They can hold onto it for a little while, creating a buzz. Then it will come out with a bang. There are three people in this band who understand the industry. We figure it'll be easy to make the most of the contracts. Jared knows a lot about working around album execs and unrealistic time lines. After all, he did have a career of his own. Even if I read his contracts at first, I wasn't always around. At some point, he learned for himself. He learned how to dance around the red tape. Since Frankie managed to screw over his old record label, I assume he's skilled as well. When we got to Winnipeg, Frankie bought me a saxophone. ...

  War With Words It's only been four days since Frankie made the band announcement. Charlie has been spending every minute practicing his guitar. He is really fine-tuning his sound. I give him another day or two before he'll be ready to join Crystal and Jared on stage. Charlie laughs every time he messes up a chord, but I feel like I'm wasting my time. I am not getting the hang of the bass. There was a day off between Boise and Portland, which Jared dedicated to showing me the basics. I understand the idea, how to make the sound, but putting it into practice has proven difficult. I didn't really expect I'd catch on that quickly. I haven't even learned what the notes are called. But I still hoped I'd have a better sound by now. Charlie tried to make me feel better by saying he already played his instrument. I countered him, saying I learned to play the bass when I was living with Luke. Frankie believes my heart is in music. I asked him why he w...

  Uncertain Future We found a small diner at the heart of the city, arriving just before the dinner rush. The restaurant was a cute Italian place with a red and green theme. The staff was dressed in black uniforms, wearing the name of the restaurant in bright red lettering across the chest. It wasn't deserted, either. Most of the tables were full. But, the management came to the front of the house to personally seat us. Frankie gets recognized everywhere we go, after all. “ I'd like a bottle of champagne.” He orders as we're sitting down. The waiter nods, darting off to the bar. The owner comes over to the table with five menus, handing them to each of us. He's an older gentleman in his late 40's. He has graying hair with bald patches on both sides. He's got a well-groomed mustache on his chubby face. He pairs it with a wide smile and sparkling eyes. “ Let me know when you're ready to order.” He announces, heading to another table. There's a ...

  Studio Time Frankie booked a practice space for the day off in Salt Lake City. Having read his contract over, I knew he had agreed to put together an outline of the album. The record label wanted him to fast-track something they could sell. It was one of the only things they asked for in order to sign him. I don't understand why he's brought all of us in to the space with him. It's a wide practice space, with a variety of instruments scattered around the room. “ It belongs to a friend of mine, so, he let me have it.” He assures, motioning around. Crystal immediately bolts to the drum kit. She drops down, scooping up a set of sticks laying on the floor. She starts wailing on that thing like her life might depend on it. “ I didn't know you knew how to play the drums.” Frankie observes. Crystal shrugs, lightly tapping the sticks on her knee. “ I taught myself when I was 10.” She answers loosely. “ Try the piano.” Frankie suggests, sitting down...

  The Book If you watch the trees for long enough, you might believe they could come to life. Pull their roots out of the ground and stomp along the highway. The branches lightly swaying as they propel forward. The sound of the leaves rustling creates a whisper that sounds like words if you're listening close enough. Right now, I can only hear the hum of the bus underneath me. These bunks are more comfortable than the last ones we were on. No memory foam this time. I'm sitting in the lounge with my legs pulled to my chest. Everyone else is asleep right now, but I just couldn't get my mind down. Instead, I watch the trees as we pass them. The leaves are half-off the trees, still trying to grow back from a cold and bitter winter. Global warming is making the winters colder, but Mother Nature just keeps going. The seasons keep changing, one ending and another beginning. It's funny how even nature lets go of the old, to make room for the new. I hear footsteps...