And they're off!

DAY ONE: Airports, Minivans, and Texans, Oh my!

Every time I fly I think about how similar taking off in an airplane is to a great first kiss. First off, it seems like you have to wait forever for it to finally happen. When you start to move you become hyper aware of every nerve in your body. You gather momentum, close your eyes, and no matter how long you've been thinking about it the moment of lift off still takes you by surprise. All the sudden your stomach floats up and you're weightless. You might chance a peek out the little side window and see the world you knew falling away. If you're flying at night, like I was just a few hours ago, you can see the cars and buildings become little pinpricks of light sparkling out of the black as you soar higher. Then when if feels like you'll just float away forever or pop like a bubble, you're back in your body. You're bones flow into the seat and you release the breath you didn't realize you were holding. Finally you settle in, and you're coasting thousands of miles above "g'mornin" and "y'all come back now, y'hear!" You're flying towards someplace new and exciting, maybe a little bit scary, and it's fantastic! Takeoffs are often my favorite part of the journey.

For me, landing is much less like kissing and much more like concentrating on not throwing up on the large man next to me as a baby squeals two rows up because she doesn't like the pressure change. Two bumps and a lurch later I'm grounded, and a soft tired sounding voice crackles on to the intercom. "Welcome to Houston."

Honestly, considering the bumpy landing I just had I'm not too upset that my flight from Houston to Austin is delayed another hour. Now I have time to write to you, and to calm the coffee-salad slush churning in my stomach. It's 9:37 (10:37 where you are, and 7:37 for you), and I am on my way to Adventure, my first ever tour! The Black River Belles take on the southeast this January: Austin, Dallas, Nashville, Columbia, and Louisville. We've decided the tour motto is "kickin ass, takin names." (I kinda thought it should be "love, booze, and other important things" but that didn't have the same ring to it. "Tour" makes this sound a lot more professional than what I think the reality is going to be. Our "bus" is an old minivan, (decorated with window art by yours truly), out hotel the couches, floors, and recliners or our generous friends (and in a pinch the floor of the minivan). We do have roadies though, or at least we have some friends crazy enough to road trip across the country with us. That would be Rue, Danny, Carlos, and Alex.

Oh, I haven't introduced the band! Ok, I'm going to say it just the way Helena always does on stage:
"Allright well, for y'all that weren't here before, we are the Black River Belles, and we're gonna play some music you you tonight (sometimes she says "songs about love, murder, and whiskey" or just "porch songs"). Over here to my right we've got the illustrious Ms. Sara Sasaki on fiddle, from Austin, Texas. Well, clap! (people clap. You can't not listen to Helena). Good. And holding up the low end, Miss Erin Lobb from Louisville Kentucky. (She usually draws out the Lou in Louisville and asks me if she said it right. She never does, but I tell her she did anyway). I'm Helena Thompson, and I hope y'all have as much fun as we're about to. This next one is about murder with a whiskey bottle/spooning/working on a railroad/love in the kitchen."

If my plane ever takes off I will get to see Sara soon. I anticipate an inappropriate amount of giggling and hugging, and I can't wait. What Helena didn't tell you about Sara is that in addition to being a kickass fiddle player, she is also a prolific organizer. She makes the calls, the deals, and the exacting itinerary, and if necessary she makes the Face (the no-nonsense, this is what we agreed to and that's how it's gonna be Face). She is 5 people concentrated into a 5' person (5'1 she'll be quick to tell you. She describes herself as "fun size"). Her knack for details is as exacting as her ear for pitch (she was born with perfect pitch), and though she swears she owns six pairs of jeans, I can't recall ever seeing her in anything but brilliantly colored minidresses.

Flight 1533, that's me! We're boarding now, hopefully they put me next to someone interesting. See you in Austin.

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Spell check thinks "kickass" is not a word. This is incorrect.