America's Heartland: Epilogue

After an unexpectedly exciting and incredibly tiring week of 5 back-to-back shows in Iowa and Nebraska, it's good to be back home for a winter break!  Things only seemed to get progressively awesome as the week continued, finishing off with 3 packed houses.

It's really nice to be writing this blog post from my bed (not a hotel bed), and just to get in the mood for the next weeks off, I'm listening to Ella Fitzgerald's "Ella Wishes You a Swinging Christmas"!  Premature--I know--but nothing really makes a winter break officially feel like a winter break more than listening to one's favorite Christmas CD!

On Friday morning, Annette and I went down to The Mill coffee shop in downtown Lincoln, NE, to do a radio interview.  It's wonderfully disarming to duck into a coffee shop on a cold, rainy morning, sit down with a warm latte, and chat at a table in the back corner with a great host.  No frills, no sound-proof studio rooms, no producers with headsets and clipboards; just a live broadcast of some people casually talking about the arts into microphones.  It was a fantastic experience.  [If you want to listen to the podcast version of the interview, go here, let the podcast fully download, and then start listening around 3/4 of the way through the interview--we were the last segment of the broadcast.]

L to R: Dean Marshall (Co-Founder and Musical Director of Barrage), me, Annette, and William Stibor of "Friday Live" on NET 91.1

It was such a blast playing at the Lied Center in Lincoln!  A packed house (nearly 2,200 people!), a great venue, and a great city.  Lincoln rocks.

The next morning we had to make a 4.5 hour drive to Mount Vernon, Iowa.  I had the backseat to myself when we got in the car, so I pulled down the arm rest/center console to get cozy for a short nap.  When I awoke, I caught a shocking glimpse of myself in the rear-view mirror:

This is what happens when you fall asleep on your side with wet hair.

Here are some more pictures from our drive:

Mind-numbing thought of the day: Michael Jordan is so famous that the back of his head is instantly recognizable.

Wind turbine blade in transport.

We finished up last night with a sold-out, return performance in Mount Vernon, IA, capping off a stellar week.

But the hardest part was yet to come...today's trip home.

For those of you who read about last week's trip home from Oklahoma, this was, fortunately, nothing of that sort. Today's trip was just a case-in-point of the "hard travel days" you may have heard touring-types bemoan.  Most notably, it consisted of 3 hours of sleep and then catching a shuttle to the airport at 4:15 a.m. this morning.

And, just as proof that arriving at an airport that early should be considered cruel and unusual, I'll leave you with this photo of what I saw when I arrived:

Good morning to you, employees of AirTran!

America's Heartland, cont.

Yesterday on our drive to Des Moines, I was able to grab just a few more snapshots of driving in the heartland.  And due to the overcast weather, everything was just a little bit more beautiful.

The Capitol in Des Moines, Iowa.

In other news, last night my E string popped during the show on the very first note it plays.  Not in the hour I was practicing before the show, not when I was tuning back stage prior, but right when we ran out for "Old Joe Clark" and I started playing the melody (which begins on an open E string).

...really, E string?!  The first note?!

Having a string pop in your face during a performance will never not be shocking.  Thankfully, however, that's why we have a spare violin (whose name is "Joanne") waiting backstage.  [It's true: we have named our spare violin.  Why?  Why not!  And she has even has this name to the extent that we actually use her name in passing, e.g., "Joanne is right next to Ted's monitor desk," "Yeah, my E string popped so I had to go grab Joanne," etc.]

Thanks, Joanne!

Off to Omaha, Nebraska -- my 44th state with Barrage!

America's Heartland

After an incredibly exciting two weeks off (which were filled with classroom visits, teaching, practicing, and family and friends), we're back on the road very briefly.
 
Five shows in five days.  And because these five shows are in Iowa and Nebraska, I'm choosing to affectionately call this tour the "America's Heartland 2010" tour.  

[...too cheesy?  Probably.]

Yesterday we kicked off AH 2010 with a big drive from Chicago, IL (that's where our truck was waiting for us), to Burlington, IA.  And while I forgot to bring my camera in the car with me, I did have my cell phone (which, I'm discovering, actually takes fairly decent pictures for being an older phone).

Most of the drive looked like this:

We stopped and ate lunch, quite randomly, in Dixon, IL, which takes an extraordinary amount of pride in being Ronald Reagan's birthplace.

And, perhaps most indicative of much of this region, there are many trains and silos.

I was hoping to see some corn fields here in Iowa, but I just googled "corn season" and learned that it has, unfortunately, passed (yesterday's scant crops hinted at this).  Oh well.

Off to Des Moines!

Leaving Oklahoma: Less-Than-OK...

Now that I've been home for a week and a few days, I'm finally writing a post on the last day of the tour in Tulsa, OK!

En route to Tulsa, we stumbled across an amazing surprise in Oklahoma City: Cheever's Cafe.  [I'll be adding it to the "of Food" page very shortly!]  Definitely one of the best salads I've ever had (though my favorite is the spinach, apple, & pecan salad at La Grande Orange in Phoenix).  

Chicken, raspberries, apples, pecans, mixed greens.  Yes, please.

It's always so nice to just randomly find some amazing place to eat, especially during the end-of-tour push!

But let's cut to the good stuff: my trip home.  Somehow, I always manage to either have wonderfully smooth travel, or just crazy travel where it seems that nothing goes my way.  Last Sunday's trip, while by no means the worst travel experience, leans toward the latter...

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After realizing I have left my laptop charger in the hotel room the previous morning in Plano (...whoops), I grab the shuttle to the airport. [This is, coincidentally, one of the main reasons I didn't update my blog sooner...]

I enjoy a leisurely afternoon at the airport, which is relatively uneventful except for a nosebleed (the byproduct of a cold).  My friend, Molly, texts me to ask when I will arrive home, and I explain that I am at the airport in Tulsa.  Everyone else has left and I am, accordingly, all by myself.  Both jokingly and seriously, she then suggests I write a poem to capture the experience so I can share it with her when I get back to AZ.  Challenge accepted!  I now submit to you, entirely facetiously, said poem:

--Alone in Tulsa--

Gate 56.

Kleenex in my nose (from an earlier nosebleed).

Nobody by my side.

Empty grande latte.

Blank postcards waiting to be sent.

Brain filled with stories to share.

Kindle.  Blackberry.  iPad.  Laptop.

Others use technology.

I'm using a BIC #2 with 0.5 mm lead.

I'm flying United.

I wish it was Southwest.

They're better.

Maybe I should get my shoes shined?

My kicks aren't leather.

But, they are dull.

Maybe someone famous will walk by?

Oh...wait.

I'm in Oklahoma.

Yet, I've not seen any wind come sweepin' down the plain.

Or any surreys (with the fringe on top).

Why isn't anyone singing?

I should probably stick to my day job, eh?

After we board the plane and begin to taxi, the captain comes over the speaker: "Attention passengers, we've been informed of some serious weather in Denver.  There are only two open runways, and we've been asked to hold our departure.  Because of delays all day, we're at the bottom of the list when it comes to arrivals.  We should have a better idea of the situation in...about 45 minutes."

So the plane pulls over.  No big deal: it's not the first time I have sat delayed on the runway.

When my United flight arrives in Denver, it's 6:35 PM, which is 15 minutes after my connecting flight to Phoenix was supposed to have taken off.  Hoping that my flight to Phoenix has also been delayed from weather, I sprint to the gate, which is the final gate at the opposite end of Denver's never-ending terminals.  Always the optimist, I remind myself what a great exercise opportunity this is...because when would I ever willingly run with 25 lbs. of baggage?  About halfway there, I decide to check a board to see if my flight has actually been delayed.  Nope--it's gone.  (In hindsight, I'm not really sure why I didn't stop to check this before I sprinted halfway there...)

I finally finish moseying to the gate and discover there's nobody there.  I also find that the only other U.S. Airways gate is un-staffed.  And, the final blow: there is no U.S. Airways customer service desk.

I head to United, get some depressing advice from a very nice agent ("I'm sorry, I have no idea where U.S. Air staff are right now...you'll just have to wait until they show up"), call my mom, and grab a wrap from a restaurant in the middle of the terminal.  I then walk back down the terminal to the gate, and nearly arrive when my nose begins to bleed once more.  

After spending 20 minutes in the bathroom waiting for nosebleed #2 to end, I finally settle in across from the U.S. Airways gate and start to eat. For some delusional reason I assumed that this specific wrap would taste better than the last time I had ordered it.  It didn't.  Personal mental note: don't order this wrap in the future.

My mom calls at 7:30.  "Taylor, I just got an automated call from U.S. Airways here on the home phone."  Wait...what?  "You've been re-booked for a United flight leaving at 9:52."  I check the board for said flight.  Want to guess where the gate is?

...correct!  The opposite end of the terminal.  Ten minutes later, I arrive at my gate, eventually get my boarding pass (from an agent who conveniently seems to leave the desk whenever I approach it), call my mom, and settle in with a book.  About 8:40, she calls back.  "Did you check to make sure your bag has been rechecked?"  Moms know best.  

I go back to the evasive agent and happen to catch him.  He looks at the number on my bag tag and starts typing.  Clack clack clack.  He squints.  Clack clack.  He squints harder, checks the number, and tries once more.  Clack clack clack.  Something is wrong.  Clack.  Clack clack.  "There's no way for me to see where your bags are.  You need to go to customer service.  It's around the corner and down the stairs."  

I get to the customer service desk and assume my position behind the 30ish people in line.  It's 8:50.  By 9:10, I've moved 10 feet, give or take a yard.  By 9:20, I've moved 5 more feet.  Lost cause.  I head back up the stairs to my gate with no idea whether or not my bags were rechecked.  But as I am supposed to have already arrived in Phoenix, I don't really care; I just want to get home.

Naturally, my gate has changed.  I head back down the stairs, past the customer service desk, and arrive in time for boarding.

As soon as I take my seat, my nose begins to bleed...again.  I quickly pinch my nose and head to the back.  The flight attendant, who is standing in front of the bathroom door and texting on his cell-phone, looks up expectantly.  "My nose is bleeding, can I please use the bathroom?"  He takes a moment to consider what I've said, is clearly annoyed by my request, and steps aside.  I lock the door, stockpile tissues for nosebleed #3, and instantly begin to over-analyze the situation.  What if I can't get my nose to stop bleeding?  Can planes even take off if a passenger is bleeding?!  What if they ask me to step off the plane?!?

"Good evening passengers, if you could please take your seats as quickly as possible, we'll get out of here as soon as we can!"  I open the door with my free hand and look down the aisle to see the plane nearly fully-seated.  The flight attendant returns, cocks his head down as to look over the rim of glasses he's not wearing, and says, sardonically, "Do you think you'll live?"

...really?!  The bleeding finally stops, and I stuff some tissue up my nose as a prophylactic measure.  

I return to my seat, whereupon my neighbor hands me a white cloth.  "Are you okay?  I found this handkerchief in my bag and it's brand new.  I promise I haven't used it!  You can have it, in case your nose starts to bleed again."  

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Fortunately, my bag had been rechecked and was at the terminal in Phoenix when I arrived.  But more importantly, the kindness of strangers never ceases to amaze me.  Little did this man know how great it was to finally catch a break after hours of nosebleeds and gate changes! 

Kindness makes the world go around.

...and, to think he showed kindness to someone who looked like this for the entire flight!