I'm in greater Chicago for ten days playing a run of eight shows. After the final Chicago show tonight (Saturday), I drive to Michigan for three more shows before returning to Nashville to, at last, see my family, and bask in a slightly warmer, sunnier clime. *I will not complain about being away from home; after all, I did sign up for this.*
Gray skies are a fixture here during the winter months, and, from my limited observation, it sure permeates just about everything and everyone around. Even a slice of deep dish pizza, or a Portillo's chili cheese dog holds less enthusiastic sway over me. Slightly less. After seven days of mostly overcast weather, I find myself short tempered at mostly frivolous things; like putting gas in the car, trying to access the internet, making a U-turn, or trying to write lyrics to a new song that I still don't know what I'm getting at. Mundane, meaningless things that draw out some latent angst. Yet I cannot tell you why any of this is. My best guess is that the mind and body are telling me I miss home, wife, family. And, yes, a clear blue sky wouldn't hurt the old attitude, either.
Harlem Avenue has become a familiar layout. I can tell you where the nearest McDonald's, Target, sushi restaurant, RedBox movie rental outlet, and cheapest gas are located. A hotel room bed, as nice as this place is, is a far cry from my 3" memory foam bed. And then there's the boundless energy of those two young boys, who probably have no idea, or care, that I've been gone. But I know I'm gone, and am quite eager to see them again, to lay eyes on familiar people, things, streets, trees. Home is familiarity drenched with need. It's a place I could use some of right now.