I’ve been away awhile. Partly because I’ve been busy with other pursuits, but mostly because I’ve procrastinated. Writing is a lot like working out. You know you should do it and when you do, you feel much better; not only physically but also about yourself. Writing makes me feel good, just not so much when I do it. It’s work. But I feel accomplished when a piece is finished, which is a fundamental ingredient in one’s self-esteem. So in other words, I don’t have a good excuse for being away for so long. But let’s stay in the present-moment, and get this long over-due post moving along.
First, a quick follow-up to the last post concerning the Whiskey & the Wolves project. Our first track, “St. Memory” from the Denver recordings is up. You can find it through our Facebook page and also here at, Reverb Nation http://tinyurl.com/m8peyaz. We’ve had some pretty good response from it so far and appreciate that if you like it yourself, share it. Ironically, in the age of the internet, we’ve returned to word-of-mouth type marketing. When it comes down to it that really is what social media is, only the medium has changed from face-to-face to electronic; and it’s really the way music gets out “there” now-a-days.
We have 3 more songs from Denver that we are currently working on polishing up for release and are shooting for a Summer release of the full EP. But, seemingly like anything that is worth doing, it takes time, effort and the almighty dollar. We’re also pursuing radio play with a few connections back in God’s country: the northern Red River valley of ND and MN. Beyond that, we continue to write, rehearse and even learn a few cover songs as we move towards full exposure: shows. It may be strange, but I don’t consider W&W a “band”, at least not proper, or for now. It’s a project and as such we are looking to add musicians, record, and do what a band does, but keep the core of it a creative release for Lucas and I; a way to “spill our blood” artistically. But who knows what the future may hold, as Paolo Soleri so aptly put it, “The future does not exist.”
Now that the slight detour is over, I want to put down a few words on that Red River Valley that I came from. The place that will forever be my home, even if I’m not currently living there. You can take me out of Minnesota, but I’ll forever be a Minnesotan. Twenty plus years where I was born and raised along with all the lived experiences there are part of who I am, and when I die - God-willing that is a far away event - I wish to find my final resting place there. Maybe I’m sentimental, or slightly delusional but I truly believe that if I was born of that land, it is only fitting that I return to it.
I have a habit of writing things down, but not always in a structured or organized way. Only recently, I began to centralize my jotting into notebooks; currently called “The California Notebooks”, I’m on #2. Before that I would write things in Word documents on whatever computer was available, in whatever notebook was available, on post-it notes and legal pads at work, on blank pieces of paper that just happened to be around me at the time. The problem is that many of these were unfinished pieces and keeping them organized and centralized is, understandably, impossible without further clerical work - which I just don’t seem to get around to.
Seven months after my wife and I made the journey from the heartland out to the coastline of California, we returned back home. In some ways it felt like we had never left, but things were slightly different and felt that way. I haven’t been home since and can imagine those feelings will be amplified when I make my way back again. Places and people change through time. It is the absolute constant of existence. After that week was over, and we enjoyed the company of many friends and family, I found myself sitting in the back seat of my parents’ car on the way back to the Fargo airport to board a flight back to our new “home” in California. I didn't have a notebook so I used the only thing I did have, my iPhone. Here is what I put down (slightly edited) that day and I can only say this, now 10 months later: I feel the same, and one day in the future, I certainly have plans to return. But my journey out here isn't over, and may not be for some time, but when it is, I hope the land and people that I know as home will welcome me back.
“Home. A word that like any in the variety of human language, contains multiple meanings. As societies shift and change, so too do our words to describe it. Entire academic disciplines and by extension, many individual careers are and have been dedicated to the study for how language carves out meaning from the abyss. Language shifts, evolves, adapts and, if we take the word ‘home’ as an example, words can change meaning for a single individual over their lifetime.
“What home means to one person to the next, from their childhood to old age, is contested and challenged as the acts for life are played out on the grand stage. As I sit in the back of my parents’ car as they drive my wife and I to the airport, my idea of home is being kicked around in my thoughts. The sharp corners of meaning are being blunted by large shifts in my personal life. Home has become many places over the years and in a few short hours I’ll be returning to my own place of residence that I currently refer to as home. But at the same time I’m flying home from home - my real home. The place where I was raised. A place where I never contested the meaning of the word home, it was simply taken for granted. This land in the northern Red River valley, in the furthest Northwest corner of Minnesota. A place of wetlands, lakes, rivers, forests, the flattest pieces of land that you can find outside the Salt flats. And, yes, it is all covered in a blanket of snow and cold for 5-8 months out of the year. But regardless of the climate, there is a certain serene beauty to the characteristics that make Minnesota, Minnesota; or for that matter, the Midwest the Midwest. This place will always be home; my HOME home.”
Moving to California has proved to be neither as hard nor as easy as I thought it would be. Physically, it’s rather easy. You pack up your life in a Uhaul trailer and drive West. It’s the part that comes after that that makes it harder. That is where I’m at now. But that’s life, as they say. I know where my home is. I couldn't forget it if I wanted to - and I don’t want to. It’s not perfect, far from it. But many of the things that make it imperfect are exactly what make it great. And judging by the sheer number of songs written entitled, “Home” I know I’m not alone in these feelings. Life may take you away but, …well you know the rest.
As an example of “you can take the boy out of Minnesota, but not the Minnesota out of the boy,” when someone says “thank you” to me out here, I still answer “you bet.” I’m not sure if it has any meaning here, but it’s too programmed. And it’s “pop” goddammit, not “soda.” Get your shit straight, California!
‘Til next time, take care of yourselves,
~Mikey
“California
I don't even know you
And you've taken me away from home
Old Magnolia
I'll never get over you
Feeling's running straight to my bones
Someday I'll be coming home
Someday I'll be coming home
With a cast iron Soul”
I highly recommend this band!
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