This weekend I drove up to the mountains to spend some time with an old friend, Anna. She’s in a band and they’re heading west, stopping off at cities along I-40 as they trek toward Los Angeles.
It was nice to see Anna again. The last time I saw her, I was pretty sure I wouldn’t see her again. I had resigned myself to that, so when I got her e-mail telling me that the band would be in Cherokee for the weekend and would I like to come up? I was caught off guard.
Still, I figured what the heck? Hopped in the car Saturday and drove to the mountains.
I thought the band was playing a gig in Cherokee, but it turned out they were just enjoying a final, lazy weekend before they start heading across the country. We got to hang out, go to dinner, lose some money in the casino.
At one point, there may or may not have been a game of strip poker. I will never say for certain.
I was invited to stay the night, but decided against it.
When I left Cherokee that evening, there was a haunted moon in the sky and an invitation buzzing in my ear.
A year ago I’d driving across the country along I-40. Earlier that evening I’d told the ladies some of my experiences.
They asked if I’d be interested in heading cross-country with them. Basically, I’d be a roadie, helping set up at gigs and taking a turn driving the van.
Ladies and gentlemen, I’m not going to lie and say I wasn’t tempted.
As I drove home that evening, my feet itched. I’ve got a mild case of the wanderlust and the thought of traveling cross-country again is appealing. Lately, I’ve been thinking how much I’d like to return to San Simeon, revisit Solvang and the Painted Desert.
There were sights I missed the first time round that I could catch this time. The Winchester House. The London Bridge in Lake Havisu City. Las Vegas.
However, I knew as soon as I got behind the wheel of my car and drove out of Cherokee, that I wouldn’t be taking the offer. It would have been a lot of fun traveling along I-40 with the band. We got on like a house on fire.
But I want to do what I want to do and, this month, that means returning to work on the Sequel. That story has been lying, patient and still, in the back of my mind a long time and now it’s starting to get restless. It wants attention and I want to give it to it.
So, I declined the offer to live a rock-n-roll lifestyle, to travel cross-country in a van with four very talented and very sexy ladies, setting up amps and living off truck stop food. Instead, I’m going to focus on finishing the Sequel and getting The Other Book out there for the public.
We all have to make choices.
This is mine.
I don’t regret it.