Greet the Day
The day began with a screeching alarm at 4:30 am. Then the sudden realization that I was late for something, immediately followed by the sweet discovery that today is April 1st. April Fools Day and the beginning of what will be called the April’s Fool Tour. I’m late for nothing. In fact, in the world of Rock n Roll, I’m early. Way early. My flight leaves Phoenix at 9 am and I’ve got a few more hours to tie up loose ends and grab the satchel and skedaddle. The next few days belong to me and the Muse. Portland Oregon and my music. And I’m sure I’ll work in a fair amount of malted barley and choice hops. Perhaps even sample a little Northwestern vinification. There’s something waiting for me at the bottom of a bottle of whatever-you-got; An Idea, a song, a laugh, or a new friend.
Time-Warp
Before bed last night I packed my bag, put the guitar and camera’s in their proper place and prepped the coffee for an easy fire-up in the AM. I’ve done this before but the pre-departure is always like a fuzzy dream. It’s usually done through one blood-shot eye at some freakishly early hour in the day. Therefore, the late-night pre-trip preparations were a great idea. I’m glad I thought of that. Because all of what I take must be carried on my back, or in my hands, I pack light. I’m no Thurston Howell the Third. I need not accompanying accoutrement’s. I got my shirt, them jeans, my shoes, a git-fiddle and my soul. I’m ready to roll.
Hobo-Travel
Years ago, I gave up the luxury of driving. To me, it is just that: a luxury. I’ve been untethered from a car for 6 years and I find a way to make it work in a city that is quite inhospitable to the non-driver. So dear friends, here is an introduction to what I have termed Hobo-Travel.
I live on the fringe of the Indian Reservation and about a half-mile off of the public transit routes in my city (Phoenix, AZ). So, my morning walk consists of a half-mile stroll to Granite Reef and McDowell to catch Route 17. This will carry me West all the way to 44th Street where I’ll transfer buses and Route 44 will jettison me South right to the heart of the Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport (PHX).
Graffiti I can agree with. To the AZ authorities: “I am not the bus-stop blogger.”
Then, I’ll hop a big freedom bird and set flames to ancient dinosaur graves and burn a streak in the sky all the way to Portland, Oregon. Upon arrival, I’ll gather bag, and shag-ass out the door of PDX airport and onto the Max Train.
Portland International Airport (PDX), and the city of Portland collectively say, “f the car.” You can move in a town like this without your own dedicated foursome of rims. Who needs a gas card in this town? Call me a happy Hobo, here I come Portland. All apologies OPEC.
The Max Train just outside the door of PDX airport.
I should be on the ground around 6pm Local PDX Time, which happens to be local AZ time as well. So, I’ll hit you with an update and post some more pictures and video of the journey thus far, then it is off to the Alberta Street Public House to strike the first note on the April’s Fool Tour.
Doing Something SuperNormal
Through the creation of this little record label and standing at the precipice of the second official SuperNormal Records Tour, one thing has remained my constant. A philosophy upon which this tiny dream of mine is perched. We need not be great, we should not just be normal either. All we need to strive for is to be a bit above normal = SuperNormal. We all have our dreams and passions, these are mine and thank you for joining me on this little ride we call life.
“Das Rock-n-Roll!” - Tyler Christensen
- Please click on the links below and leave a comment. I read these daily, it’s kinda like fuel. Be my OPEC. (Organization of People Entertained and/or Concerned).
