The adventures of Tom and Dave in NZ January 2008



All the travel getting to Christchurch NZ worked out well.  It is so good to be back in a civilized country.  Because of the long flights, the tour here will not earn much more than covering the expenses, so I was feeling just a tad guilty about spending all this time here and not bringing home the bacon.  But Nance said that my job was to enjoy summer (in the middle of winter) and have fun.  Meet people and listen to their stories.  Be inspired by the mountains and the clear water and the beautiful countryside.  Oh, I love that woman.  My job is to have fun,  so I've been taking lots of pictures and buying an extra box of the best raspberries I have ever tasted.

We got to the Arjee Bahjee restaurant, and it was fully as good as I remembered it, and that's really good, mind you.  It's Nate's favorite Indian restaurant, and I should have gotten him a T shirt, but they were all out of them.  I got a close up of the logo so he can make a button out of the image with his new button press that he got for Christmas, Arjee Bahjee was right next to our hotel, but only because we picked the hotel accordingly.  The vindaloo was too hot.  I mean, I still ate it, but it took concentration, determination and cardiovascular effort.  I'll go for the Lamb sag the next time.

Now we're driving up route 7 on the way through the mountains to Nelson and Tom is driving like a wild man, passing at 125 KPH.  Well, to put it in perspective, the natives are still passing us, so he's not being that wild.  When in Rome, tailgate and floor it over the rise. We're staying with Jared tonight and I miss him.  I hope he can come stay with us in Asheville.  But then again, maybe once was enough for visiting the USA.  Oh boy, I'm feeling like it's inspiring and depressing to see all this natural beauty and watch the life in the cities that appear to be run by an advanced civilization. They appear to be earthlings, but they do things very differently. They treat each other with kindness and the social structure provides a common decency to all.  I know there's a thrill to our system of shoving each child out onto the high wire of life without a net, but the carnage is exhausting to watch. If you judge a society by how well most people are doing, it is  humbling to be from the USA.  Yes, I know that the american dream is as alluring as a lottery ticket, and I love the excitement and the chaos of a system where there's a chance to win big and a much bigger chance of coming to harm.  I guess most Americans must assume that they are each far luckier than average.  Maybe there's a love of danger in the psyche of an American that keeps choosing to accept a system like the one we have where the luckiest of us can attain heights of success that are a thousand times higher than most of the others will ever get a chance at.  Risk big and maybe win big.  If you judge a culture only by how rich the richest are, then I guess we're doing great.  But that's not really judging a culture; that's just judging those who rise above it.  But maybe we choose to have a kind of manic way of striving for the highest achievement at any expense.  Maybe one American walks upon the moon and it counts somehow as an American achievement.  One life makes it big, and it helps us believe in the American dream.  But in reality, most of us fall short.  Our daily lives don't approach those heights.  The career of a high jumper may be defined by his highest moment, but that makes the rest of his life seem like just running toward his goal and then falling down afterward.  Maybe Americans value going for the peak experience more than the average quality of life,. There seems to be a peace here in New Zealand that is about enjoying the day to day workings of a community. The frantic attitude that I get acclimated to in the states is more like scrambling to stay on the high side of a system that doesn't have the buoyancy to keep everyone afloat,  so it gets our survival instincts going.  But don't get me started about all that.  I wonder how our thinking would have to evolve to see that the final frontier is actually not away from each other or against each other, but rather in toward the heart of what we all value in common.  

On one of these long downhills, I was just wondering about a system of energy-efficient air conditioning for vehicles that used an advanced torque converter to spin a compressor that filled a buffer tank, all activated by the brake pedal,  so that the kinetic energy when slowing down got converted to pressure during stopping.  It would work as the brake on a front (or a four) wheel drive car.  It could be sorta loud, but every time you pressed on the brake, the torque converter would spin up the compressor to pressurize the big buffer tank.  The AC could then release the pressure gradually to cool the interior of the car.  The extra heat could be dissipated by a radiator mounted on the back of the roof, and maybe the system would be switchable like a heat pump so that it could also help heat the car in winter.

John Purdy mentioned a phrase that would make a great song:
The Last Lock.  Something like:  I can let someone in so far, even into the private chamber within the walls within the gates, but when we are close, I catch her with her hands over my heart working on the last lock.

On the drive up to Nelson we stopped at a fruit stand and got two boxes of the best raspberries I have ever tasted.   They were so big and perfectly ripe.  It was an experience on the same level as eating the entire flat of organic strawberries that we got on the coast road on the way to Santa Cruz last summer.  I think a spectacular box of raspberries could count as one of the crowning moments of any life.  I was aware at the time that this could be the finest box of raspberries I will ever taste.  We also got apricots and plums, and they were good and sweet and ripe and organic and all that, but the raspberries were divine.  

I had a great gig last night in Nelson.  I was talking a lot about the difference between how I feel when I'm in the states and how I feel when I'm in New Zealand.  I really want this time to be one of renewal and vision.  I want to get back the sense of adventure and wonder that I remember from other times in my life.  Layne Longfellow's lecture about the different kinds of mastery in the different stages of life was great for me to see.  It's getting to the point where I'd like to try keeping a spiritual practice and see what happens.  I feel so good when I play music, and I know that the rest of my life could feel that good if I was listening to what was asked of me in each moment.  I want to be in service to those around me and be the music that they need to hear.  And not just with guitar, but with the state of my heart and the words that come when I quiet my mind and ask to be the instrument.   I think it would give me energy and purpose.  It would be great if this New Zealand time could serve as a retreat and a vision quest.  The way my heart feels when I'm here is a clear break from my usual mode of thinking, and I want to pay attention to this fresh perspective.

I loved seeing Jared's cozy new home.  I slept so well in the quiet of the valley with the windows open.  It reminded me of when I first saw the Gott's place many years ago.  There's a kind of de-tox that I feel coming from the heady, worried, driven focus that I feel back home.  It takes some time with real quiet for me to even know what I've been missing.  It's like when you think it's quiet in the house and then the refrigerator shuts off and you're suddenly aware of how noisy it was a second ago.  I see things here that remind me of how my life at home could feel.  If I saw my life from outside it would appear rather charmed to me.   But I discount all the cool stuff in my life because I take it for granted.  Why is it hard for me to keep the old Asheville attitude that I remember from before?  Going to a film at the Fine Art and eating at Hector's should feel just as wonderful as a day in Nelson.  I've got to quit poisoning my mind with thoughts that keep me stuck in idle uselessness.  When I catch the scent of the natural wood interior of Jared's home, I remember the way I felt about the music cabin and my new found home in Asheville.  Maybe I just need to travel in order to see where I live.   I invited Jared to come stay with us in Asheville.  Maybe he'd want to trade some gardening time and set up the big planters in the front yard.  Then again, maybe Nance just wants to keep it just flowers in that part of the yard.

It was a great drive over the mountain, and I'm looking forward to playing tonight at the Mussel Inn here in Golden Bay. Tom and I went for a run along the ocean and the warm wind was kicking up some nice waves.  This hand crafted house we're staying in is very beautiful, and the gardens are an inspiration.  Everything grows so tall and proud.  I would like to bicycle more this coming summer, maybe rides with Art, or maybe a longer multi-day trip.  I have been too tired and I catch myself thinking that it's just age talking.  But I know I could wake up my muscles if I kept at it.  

Ah, the Mussel Inn gig did not go that well.  I didn't know how to keep my attitude with all the laughter and talking that was going on outside.  I know there were people who came to listen, but when I asked in my heart what to talk about between songs, all I got was stuff I couldn't say.  Hurt thoughts of how it wasn't working.  I wanted to explain, but they were doing nothing wrong.  I somehow slipped back into the sad kid who will never be heard.  Wow, that used to be so much a part of me. The songs were still good, and I did the stories that I had memorized, but I was not spontaneous with the between-song patter.   The people like Jared who saw the previous show the night before must have wondered what happened.  OK, on to  the next.  I'll come out swingin'  tonight and be ready.  I think I was just taken off guard because the Nelson gig was so good.

The drive back down here to Christchurch was very beautiful, but I got a sun burn on one side of my face and neck from the sun through the car window.  I made sure to keep my hands in the shade because I could feel the heat of the sun unusually intensely as it shone on my arms and on my lap.  We got up at 7:00 and stopped for breakfast at a natural food store in the second town we got to, about an hour into our drive.  We bought local organic plums and they were perfectly ripe.  In the next town we passed a group of about fifty motorcycles that were touring together.   A string of seven of them passed us going up one of the mountain roads, and there's nothing that makes a stretch of road look better than a line of motorcycles banking around the turns in front of you.  Now we're back at the Aalton Motel and after a quick nap, it's over to Arjee Bahjee for some Lamb Sag and then off to sound check.

Ah, the gig went great.  I was a little bit thrown by how different the audience feels than a US crowd, but I kept speaking the truth in my heart and it came together in a beautiful way.   Songs like SHOW THE WAY just don't work here.  The premise of the song is that this life on earth is very scary and violent and dark, and  that love is a bold and daring thing.  That's not how they see the world 'round these parts.  The peaceful hearts here are kind of amused by the intense drama of this American.  

The town of Lyttleton is a port town with lots of interesting character.  The place I played is the old movie theater and it used to be a dance hall for the sailors. There were several display cases on the walls with photos of the chorus girls right beside the actual dresses they used to wear. They kiwi sailors must have had many rowdy nights there, but the only people who were noisy in the crowd tonight were the Americans.  They were so drunk that they could not clap in rhythm.  At all.  It was the perfect parody clap.  Terminal whiteness or maybe arrhythmia.  I played two sets and it was tiring but fun.   There was a family from Sydney that really liked it and the girl was probably high school age and she was saying she was going to spread the word and get a crowd for me next time I play at the BASEMENT in Sydney.   A quick snack of leftover Indian food after the show on the drive home and then a brief chapter of THE BIG LEBOWSKY on the computer to clear my mind and then great dreams.  Oh, the quiet of a NZ hotel room.  

Woke up to a spot of rain, so It's time to head north to warmer weather!  I got my computer to hook up to the web.  The password finally worked.  I talked to Nance and Nate this morning from the hotel phone with the prepaid international phone card.  We talked for twenty minutes and I got to hear about all the festivities around Nate's birthday party.  It was almost called off on account of snow, but fifty people showed up regardless of the weather, and it was a great success.  I am so looking forward to getting home, freshly aware that Asheville has so much going for it.  It was wild reading in the local paper here, an editorial about the welfare state being bloated and overly bureaucratic. The article was saying that the government's intentions are good, but the system is too complicated and doesn't serve.  So here's to getting bored with paradise.  People can acclimate to anything I guess.  

So It's Monday, and now we're at the airport on the observation deck which is outside on the roof.  It's off to the north island for the first time in my life,  and my job is to have fun, so I'll be duty-bound to have a splendid time and take lots of pictures to prove it.

Tuesday now, and the first gig near Auckland went well.  The folk club has its concerts in an old bunker at the top of the hill looking over the harbor.  It's the most spectacular real estate in the city, and the town council lets the folkies use it for free.  The walls are fortress thick and it's half underground with grass on top. Weather was blustery and gray, but still warm.  Beautiful view. The crowd really liked songs like FIDDLE AND SLIDE and GOOD MAN but didn't really get songs like SHOW THE WAY.  I think all that talk of life being a  test in the darkness surrounded by evil just goes right past them.  They look around and say,  "What darkness?"  The calm in their hearts is something most Americans don't get to feel.  There's an easy way that life comes at you here.  Well, it's off to the south in our little Mazda hatchback rental.  The clouds have parted and the day is fine and bright.  The cyclone Funa is going to be stirring up some wind where we're headed.  I loaded the first gigabite of pictures from the camera onto the computer and put up a quick slide show.  Yes, it does wonders for the memory, I should photograph everything.  Like breakfast in this fine house we're staying in.  Michael Young and his wife Trude are from Austin and have sailed all over the world to find a great life here in New Zealand.  We'll stay with them again after the festival, so we'll have more time to hear about their adventures.  They were off to work early while we slept in Tuesday morning. I heard his BMW motorcycle start up and pull away.
 
We drove and drove all the way to New Plymouth in the misting rain.  The two lane roads wind over the mountains much like on the south island, but up here the bridges have two lanes.  We went in search of high speed internet, but didn't find it.  One place it was out of order and the other had just closed.  So we headed to the home of our hosts for the next two nights,  the same people who are promoting all the shows other than the festival. Tomorrow night, Wednesday,  there's a house concert here, but tonight we have off.  Their home is very nice. and it's on a beautiful piece of land on the edge of a valley.  There's a lot of farm land around here, and the city of New Plymouth is kind of functional, not as pretty as Nelson.  There's ocean there, but the shore is steep and rocky, and the downtown didn't have the welcoming places to hang and the pretty cafes and parks.  This part of the North island seems to have more industry and less charm than the south island.  I mean it's still beautiful, but you could find places in the states that compare, although like Sweden, the difference is in the consistency of the beauty.  The Taranaki  region is the called the energy capital of NZ.  There're off shore oil wells and there used to be lots of natural gas.  The Japanese do lots of underwater strip mining for iron ore since the black sand all along here is all iron ore.   The town went through a real slump a decade ago, but it's coming back.  Our conversation over dinner with our hosts Gill and Pete was great.  We talked politics and all.  

On Wednesday morning we went for a bit of of tramp on a track that went up the side of the volcano, Mt Taranaki.  It was all in cloud, so no views, only gray all around, but the clouds broke at top just like they did on Mt. Lynn Lowery so many years ago.  We ate the rest of our big tubs of blueberries and strawberries and they were fantastic. We went into the town of New Plymouth again and found internet access at the museum.  Then back in time for dinner and the gathering. The house concert was small and polite.  I couldn't see anyone who was obviously moved, but they said nice things afterwords.   That reserve is hard to get used to.  I can play Three Brothers right up front though, and they get it right away.  

On Thursday we drove four hours up to Hamilton.  It was the same road, but a whole new drive now that it was sunny.  The place where we stopped on Tuesday in the rain on the coast was now warm and beautiful, and there on the ground, smashed to bits, were the reading glasses that I had been missing.  We got some new ones at the huge grocery store.  The gig in Hamilton was the best looking venue of all.  There were several great auditoriums at the university, and this one had great sound and big glass doors that could open up the wall behind me to the trees and pond behind them.  There was no air conditioning built into the brand new buildings, and they thought it was really hot, but they ain't never been to Hot'lanta.  I got a couple mosquito bites at dusk while playing, but it worked out well.  I played two sets and it felt good.  There was a big Salvation Army event for college age kids with a military motif that nobody seemed to notice was almost a self parody.  Maybe when that organization took its name, it was a way to make love seem tough, but the whole warfare thing looks pretty embarrassing now.  I brought it up in the into to GOOD MAN and it went over quite well.  

Friday morning we got up after an OK night's sleep at the Traffic Noise motel, (the ambassador) and drove to a radio interview back up in Auckland.  We got there an hour early and went for a walk and found internet access in the lobby of the Crowne Plaza hotel.  The interview went well. "That was good radio," the guy said.  The woman who did the interview was in Wellington so I wore headphones.   The mix seemed primitive, but Tom said it sounded good.   Then we drove to Yukie's for lunch and back to the rental car place to return the car.  We got the car rental van back to the airport and then got on a shuttle who agreed to take us up to the festival ground.   To say festival in KIWI speak, just pretend that it starts with the word feast.  There was lots of traffic getting north through town and over the bridge, but the van was comfy.  We got to the festival and they showed us to our lodging, which for all the performers is cool old caravan trailers.  They are eight feet wide and very cute.  There is no insulation and no screens on the windows, but they're for summer and the bugs don't seem to be a problem.  The trailers are plugged in so we have lights and can keep the computers charged up.  

Saturday I heard great music, like Bob Fox who is a wonderful entertainer all around.  And Mark Mazengarb who is very young and plays whoop-ass Chet style guitar.  He's coming to the states again in June for a Chet Atkins appreciation something, and I invited him to Swannanoa Gathering if he can stay that long.  My set went very well, and again, people made comments about the songs that show that they get the meaning of the songs at a deeper level than the crowds I'm used to, but if they feel it as deeply, they don't show it.  On woman said that she was reeked  bouy thee eend, beecoueez theat soung abeout Jeeruseelim heet me roueet bitween thee oieyz.  (She was wrecked by the end, because that song about Jerusalem hit her right between the eyes).
Tom and I went for a run yesterday and went for another after my gig today at about seven in the evening.  The sun still felt burning hot, but the air was maybe 80 degrees, so it was cool enough, though on our way out, one of the women who organizes the festival said: "Crazy Americans, don't you know it's too hot for that!"  There's lots of jamming all over the campsites, and starting at eleven, there's free home brew in the sing-along tent where the drinking songs tell the wonders of diminishing our brain power. I went to listen to some and got depressed.  We could still hear it from our trailer, and I kept myself awake writing a lyric about the truth of alcohol that I imagined I could go over there and sing, but luckily I dropped my attitude and fell asleep.

Sunday came on bright and sunny with the sun blazing in our caravan windows.  The grassy ground was still cold and dew covered as I walked barefoot to the superly designed portable toilets (which have a spring-loaded magnetically sealed flap that keeps the stink down).  Today I teach a writing workshop and after that I hope to find a circle to play more songs in.  Tomorrow there's a bit more festival because it's a holiday, and then Monday night we're getting a ride back down to Auckland to get ready to go to the airport and home.   There's a gathering at the Bunker that is kind of a winding down music party.  So I'm sure there will be a chance to sing some more there.
Later now on Sunday and I've just finished the writing workshop.  I talked for an hour about song writing and it flowed very well.  I wish it had been recorded. The crowd got tuned up and it was my  best connection with a crowd in New Zealand.  I started by playing NO TELLING and then described the method of warmer/cooler and used the example of the song GET ON and went into form / verses being informed, and then played RIVER RUN DRY and ended with if you can't say it with words, then the world needs a song.  It felt great, and then there was a fundamentalist guy who thought THREE BROTHERS was about dividing up the real estate of the middle east.  I need to tweak the intro so I don't overlay the images of the parable onto the literal land.  He was rather civil, but it reminded me that I have to be ready for those conversations.  The festival is a small version of LEAF, and there are only a few food vendors, but luckily they are good.  Those women who are serving the Thai food are working very hard to feed everybody and are doing a great job.  Maybe it's time for my siesta while it's still hot.

Ah, the cool of the breezy caravan.  The nap was quick but deep, then we went for another run and I played the evening concert second to last and it went very well.  Tom said he had a hunch that Johnny's Camaro would work well, and it sure did.  It opened the crowd up.  Then after the concert there were music jams all night but I somehow slept anyway.  The dawn comes up like thunder and today we head back to Michael and Trudy's house in Auckland for another jam that never stops.  And then we move into our odd little apartment, the one that's narrow but really long, and flies through the air for days on end.  After we finally get the door of that place open again, we'll be in the states where the roadsigns ruin the scenery.  I hadn't even noticed that there are no road signs here until somebody mentioned it last night.  Culture shock here we come.  So, yes, the last gig at the bunker went  very well.  I played NO FAR AWAY and then SUNSHINE ON THE LAND and it went swimmingly.  We got up early and went out to breakfast with Michael and he gave us a ride to the airport.  Our flight is delayed, but since we originally had a super long lay-over, it's no big deal.  It actually makes things easier because the baggage could be checked through to LA instead of us having to claim it and clear it and check it again.  The airport here in Auckland is much more pleasant than the one in Nadi, Fiji, so we don't mind the wait.  I bought an airport T shirt so when I get stinky from riding airplanes for twenty hours, I can change for my arrival.  There was a line of some rude  Americans at check in that made me cringe. They were here for the Parachute festival and the way they were talking to each other made me sink into despair.  I am suddenly very sleepy today and I wonder if it has something to do with anticipating the changing time zones ahead.  

The flight home worked out great, but I felt that weird stress come back when I was around those frantic Americans  No one is talking to each other.  I'm just an obstacle in their path. The little things that I usually don't even notice are now so obvious.  No eye contact, cutting in line, bragging and ranting way too loud on their cell phones, as if they were doing the business deal  of the century.  It bothers me because I know that I'll soon forget to notice and my heart will brace itself for the "real world."