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Mark Humphreys Talking to Myself Notes from the Road 1998 – 1999 SECOND EDITION Featuring Revised Foreword and Newly-Added Epilogue Talking to Myself For anyone who’s ever longed to follow a dream, or find out what it’s like to try, TALKING TO MYSELF, a collection of essays by singer/songwriter MARK HUMPHREYS, will let you see it all, from the highest peaks to the longest nights of the soul. Written on his computer in the form of e-mail messages to friends and colleagues back home while touring the United States in 1998 and 1999---and now with a newly-added epilogue from 2003---these notes from the road capture the heart and spirit of the performing songwriter traveling the highways of America in honest, sometimes jarring detail. Informative, reflective and honest to a fault, Humphreys reveals the joys and heartaches of a modern-day minstrel in ways that everyone can relate to. Enjoy the journey! LFH Press Post Office Box 8174 Van Nuys, California 91409-8174 Talking to Myself Notes from the Road 1998/1999 By Mark Humphreys LFH Press Post Office Box 8174 Van Nuys, California 91409-8174 © 1998, 1999, 2003, 2005 Mark Humphreys. All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part or in any form. First Printing November 1999 Second Printing December 1999 Third Printing April 2000 Fourth Printing June 2000 Fifth Printing June 2001 Sixth Printing August 2001 Second Edition (including PDF version) published July 2005 Printed in the United States of America. Table of Contents Foreword . i The Autumn 1998 Tour ONE: Well Okay, Tom . .. .. 2 TWO: Motel Blues/Gasoline Shoes . 5 THREE: Bombs Away . 9 FOUR: Borders and Boundaries . .. 15 FIVE: Seasons . 20 SIX: Snow Big Deal . 24 SEVEN: Guts . 29 EIGHT: Oregon Trails . 33 NINE: Home . 37 The Spring/Summer 1999 Tour TEN: Getting On With It . 42 ELEVEN: Songs of the South . .. 47 TWELVE: High Fibers . .. 52 THIRTEEN: Loaves, Fishes and Buckage . 60 FOURTEEN: Les Critiques . .. 67 FIFTEEN: Stop Pay Toll . .74 SIXTEEN: Brushstrokes . .. .. 83 The Autumn 1999 Tour SEVENTEEN: High Lonesome . 88 EIGHTEEN: World Serious . 94 NINETEEN: Reruns and Practicalities . .. .101 TWENTY: The Beginning . .106 Epilogue: Spring 2003 UPDATE: That Joyful Noise . 115 Foreword This is not a heavily-edited book. It consists of twenty separate missives—now segregated as chapters—which were originally sent in 1998 and 1999 via e-mail to a list server for poets, songwriters and other artists called the iguanaland-list (and later, exile-events). They were written quickly, with little forethought or planning of any kind. I have transcribed them here from the original texts, correcting typos and adding italics in places where I wanted to but couldn’t in my e-mail program. Other than those minor changes, the messages are presented here as I originally sent them, my thought being that they should retain the sense of spontaneity and immediacy they carried when first written. There is a newly-added epilogue, written in 2003, as a sort of catch-up and conclusion to the adventures chronicled in this book. Since writing that final “chapter,” I have toured twice more, in the Autumn of 2004 and the Spring of 2005, but as of this writing I am on hiatus from the road---perhaps a permanent one, but who knows?---having reached a point where I am satisfied at having accomplished what I accomplished, and having a desire to try other things. Looking back on these messages now, it is impossible to imagine my life as it is, or how it will eventually end up, without the ten years I spent traveling the Interstates of the United States, doing what I only dared dream of in my youth. In other words: I will not, at the end of my days, find myself regretting that I never dared to live as I dreamed. Since a lot of time has passed since these messages were first posted, the contact information for venues and radio stations which appear in each message will most likely no longer be correct or otherwise up-to-date. I therefore can’t make any guarantees that the people with whom I dealt all those years ago are still where they were when I dealt with them, or even if they’re still in the general vicinity. This is folk music, after all. When I first began writing these messages I had no clue whatsoever what they would be like. I just started typing the first one, and within a couple of paragraphs an idea took hold, and suddenly I knew what I wanted to do with these notes from the road, and how to do it. The strange thing is that to this day I can’t fully describe with any specificity what it is. I can say, though, that the messages themselves are the best description of my intent. Okay, that sounds like a bunch of gobbledygook. Fine. I’ll let it stand. Mostly, what I wanted to convey was the joy I found in the process, in the understanding that every moment is a drop in a huge ocean of the adventure of experience. All of it—the good, the bad, the boring, the heartbreaking—is worth going through, because it all adds up to a story. This one just happens to be mine. Or, more accurately, a part of mine. The adventure never ends. So---in the end what I guess I was trying to do was inspire other stories. And who knows? Maybe I did. All I know for certain is that a whole lot of people responded—in sometimes dramatic, and always loving, fashion—and that is a gift. More than I ever expected. And so it is to the poets and artists and songwriters and oddballs of every sort who read these notes when they were originally sent (and especially Tom Ianniello, who invited me to write them in the first place, and Ritt Henn, who inspired me to put them together in this format) to whom I dedicate this little book. Thanks again for the feedback, the stories you shared from your own experience, and the love that fueled this fantasy trek into faux journalism. See you down the road. MSH November 1999 Revised July 2005 i The Autumn 1998 Tour ONE Well Okay, Tom Hello everyone. ...so I was minding my own business, loading up the car for another 8 weeks of banging hell out of a perfectly good acoustic guitar and belting out my little songs across America....when Our Father Who Art in Hollywood, Tom "Oh-Yeah?- Well-I'm-From-Rochester" Ianniello, asked me if I'd send along some e-mail logs from the road during this trip and post them to this listserve. I belong to several of these lists, and songwriters posting "thoughts from the road" are generally (vehemently) discouraged. So I was naturally flattered when Tom actually encouraged me to give it a shot. And I said okay. So let's see what happens. He said smiling nervously. ***** ***** Many of you on this listserve know who I am; for those of you who don't, here are (briefly) the basics: I'm 41 years old, I write songs, I independently release my own CDs (I currently have 3 out). I'm old enough to know better. In 1995 I decided to toss out any hope of being financially solvent and started touring, playing folk clubs, coffeehouses, book stores and a LOT of Borders outlets (more on that in later posts). Each year since 1995 I've toured more and more. This is my fifth national tour. By the time it's over I'll have spent five months on the road this year. I am definitely old enough to know better. I do all of my own booking, and work a day job while I tour, doing paralegal work when I'm not driving or playing, using a computer I take with me. This computer, actually. And I'm damn well old enough to know better. But here I am. Beginning with my trip in the spring of 1997, I started sending occasional missives from the road to Robert Morgan Fisher, a good and patient friend and colleague who graciously tolerated my little brain farts and who even encouraged me to send more. At first I sent them via postcard; this year I began sending them via e-mail. When Tom asked me if I wanted to send my thoughts to this whole group, I balked at first---these things are often written quickly and under strange emotional conditions---but I decided that it would be interesting to see if it works. So every once in awhile between now and November 21 (when this trip comes to an end) I'll send a message to the list and try not to do it any differently than I would if it were to just one person. Ha. We'll see. Please let me (and Tom) know what you think by sending your own responses/comments to the server. Thanks for asking, Tom. All hate mail will be forwarded directly to you, babe. -2- ***** ***** September 28, 1998 Salt Lake City, Utah 7:15 p.m. MDT Tripometer: 679 miles. I arrived this afternoon following an eleven-hour drive from Los Angeles. This is the first "waystation" on my way to the Upper Midwest, where I'll spend most of October. My first show is this Friday, October 2, in Traverse City, Michigan. The whole process of getting out of the house is getting easier now that I'm doing this more often....basically I put everything in boxes a few days before I leave, then start living out of those boxes as I would if I were on the road.

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