Joe Bonamassa

When was the last time you listened to an album?  The arrangement designed by the artist so you experience the tracks in a particular sequence.  Not shuffled by Pandora, but laid out specifically for your ears to hear in that order?

I am in Palm Desert, California, listening to Joe Bonamassa’s album, Live at Carnegie Hall, from start to finish just as he intended.  Nine months ago I didn’t know who Joe Bonamassa was but during our short history, we have traveled from Seattle to Nepal and, now, hundreds (thousands?  I am afraid to look) of miles in the awesome Wurzig/Beagle combination.

A friend introduced me to Joe and despite being new to me he has been playing a long, long time.  He opened for B.B. King when he was merely twelve years old.  A white guy with a massive, square jaw, incredibly cool shoes and eyes that are rarely seen.  My first experience of him was via YouTube, playing Last Kiss.  I immediately purchased three albums but my favorite is the acoustic Live at Carnegie Hall.

I first listened to the full album from my apartment in Seattle.  Sitting with a single malt, staring out my floor to ceiling windows at the Ferris wheel sparkling along the waterfront.  The album makes me dreamy.

I listened to it while lying within thin, scratchy sheets on a hard bed in Pokhura, Nepal at three in the morning.  Despite knowing all the words, I don’t sing along.

And I listened to it on the rare occasion of being a passenger in Wurzig.  Feet up on the dash, windows down, my favorite driving album ever. 

I listen to it tonight and wonder, is this how you start a new life?  You begin finding things that are just Kit and slowly, ever so fucking slowly, you piece together a new life?   

You gather experiences that create memories that become your new life.

Maybe. 

This is not as funny as the last post.

Speaking of experiences, my trip lately has felt way too much like living in a trailer versus exploring life while living in a trailer.  There is a difference:  It is most noticeable when visiting friends and family and wanting to dress reasonably well.  You know, in something that didn’t just get pulled out of a duffel bag from under your bed.

At some point in the last few weeks I got it in my head that I needed to find a house.  Upon further reflection, I think it is just a desire to be in a house at all—a sofa, a shower that doesn’t flood your toilet, clothes that hang. 

As usual, acknowledging the feeling has removed most of the drama.  It has also brought back the adventure.  But for two weeks I am here, well, Beagle will be here in Palm Desert, I’ll be driving back up to Prescott for Thanksgiving, then back down here, then flying to Seattle for a few nights.  The Beagle adventure will resume on December 2^nd.

Happy Thanksgiving my friends and family, I am thankful for you and to be alive.

-K