Road signs

The case for my go-to guitar is twenty years old.

When I began touring, I started with a janky guitar and an even jankier case, because that’s what I had. Then, I had to fly to Florida for a Jewish Song Festival, and my guitar and case, with some help from United Airlines, showed me I’d need something tougher.

I was able to buy my touring guitar after the summer of 2014, and the case followed a couple months later. Both have served me very well since then. I get my guitar tended to periodically at Portland Fret Works, and on the rare occasions my case has needed care, I’ve handled it myself. Along the way, the case has picked up a few road signs, souvenirs of places I’ve brought my guitar to share my music.

Twenty years is a long time to keep a visual record of one’s travels. Here are a few high points.

The case is an SKB touring case with TSA-approved latches. Hard plastic outer shell, hard foam interior covered with velveteen and sized for my guitar. It’s very strong and yet lightweight enough that lugging it through airports and train stations isn’t so bad. 

It also takes stickers quite well, though I learned early that a few dabs of super glue underneath would ensure that sticker stayed on through all the bumps and grinds of travel.

Below are few key stops along the way.

— Soulcraft, a bicycle frame company that also reminds me what I’m doing on the road.

— Jeremy White Foundation, a musicians organization which helped me with a small financial grant in the first year of the Covid lockdown, when gigs were nonexistent.

— Kansas, where I spent six Incredible Junes leading music and prayer at a terrific Jewish Day Camp called Machane Jehudah. That experience changed my Judaism, and my life, for the better.

— ISH Festival, Cincinnati. See below.

— Yes, I played my guitar and rode a bicycle at the Grand Canyon. If you’ve never been, GO.

— Same thing goes for Joshua Tree, though time maybe running out for that magical place.

— St. Louis, home of Alvarez Guitars and Songleader Boot Camp.

— I serenaded the staff at Graeter’s Ice Cream in downtown Cincinnati just before hopping the bus to the airport, after my last trip to ISHfest. I’d love to explore and play more here, but it’s gonna have to be through a different vehicle than this well-intentioned but oddly-managed festival. I lost money both times I went. Live and learn, I suppose.

— And yeah, something in your living room really DOES want all your money.

Ahhh, Portland. My Glistening city, my Jerusalem. 

— Velo Cult, best bike shop hangout ever and now long gone.

— Pip’s Original Donuts. If you have issues about waiting in line, stay home. More for me.

— Portland Parks and Rec, occasional host of Shabbat Fusion. Bonus bets: Wilshire Park and Wallace Park.

— Hipster Herzl, a memento from when NewCAJE came to town in 2019.

Also here, my one visit to Lawrence Fucking Kansas, a cool college town and home to a hip little coffeehouse with its own Breakfast Cereal Bar. When Lawrence grows up it could be Portland, except for the snow.

Editorial stickers, a few homemade, include my sentiments about infrastructure and sustainable trans portion. I admit that while I’ll miss the people, when I retire from the road in a few years I won’t miss the airports or the freeways. It has always bothered me that I’ve had to utilize UNsustainable transport to tour. But based on where the audiences are and where I am, there’s no other real choice for now. So I live with the tension and look forward. But yeah, I’ll never forgive Robert Moses.

Top of the case: the point of it all. Why I do this thing. What music is for. Why live music is always best.

screw the tech bros and their quest for endless streams of mere content. I’m a musician like my father before me, and it is ALL about playing for and in front of people.

So spend the money, pay the cover and a drink, and support live music wherever you are.

Last but not least, a nod to my recent ADHD diagnosis and the work involved in honoring my real self.

This one’s a patch on my gig bag, which I use when I do local stuff, and short hoppers on small planes or the train and my hard case won’t fit in the overhead. 

Touring is frustrating and weird and inspiring and loads of fun. I’m blessed I’ve been able to do it for so long. And I’m blessed that I can see a time when it will all wind down in a few years. I’m okay with all of it. Happy trails.