Dear Croissants,
I think I have hit a breaking point with my desire to multitask while traveling. Yesterday I ate 1 cinnamon roll, 1 croissant (while driving, messy, yet on brand) and then two Taco Bell tacos, (Doritos Locos Supreme with beans instead of beef, duh) (also while driving, also messy) and then did soundcheck with a giant, shameful, ice water cup with the Taco Bell logo planted next to my pedal board. And then ate a few bites of green curry on the floor of the dirty green room next to giant dead mosquitos while fixing my hair, and then housed two slices of cold pizza on the way home after the gig (while driving- not as messy). My van has become a graveyard for self-care. Here lies Rachel’s health and well-being, as well as concern for the planet, amongst styrofoam boxes, crusted plates, empty coffee cups, and Twizzler wrappers. RIP.
Two hours of my 4-hour drive from Bristol to Murfreesboro yesterday were spent on the phone with 1) my health insurance company 2) my health insurance’s pharmacy override specialist 3) the pharmacy 4) my Dr.’s office and then again 3) and then again 2) and finally again 3).
I need to grab some prescriptions early due to my upcoming international tour in the Netherlands and the UK, and to do this I needed the request from the Doctor to the pharmacy and then the pharmacy had to request from the insurance, and then the insurance had to deny the request, and then the insurance pharmacy specialist had to override the denial, and then the pharmacy could fill it (totally normal, America!) Not me yelling “SPEAK TO A REPRESENTATIVE!” over and over, alone in my van.
On the flip side, some positive travel news:
On our tour in March, my friend and musical collaborator Nicholas Jamerson lost his guitar. It simply disappeared. We looked everywhere, called venues, Airbnbs, hotels, etc. Nobody had seen it. A few weeks later, he gets a message on Instagram from a stranger telling him that he works in a pawn shop and had purchased Nick’s guitar and Calton case, no questions asked. But, something seemed special about this guitar, and he didn’t feel right about it. Using detective work from the photos inside and the stickers on the outside, he tracked down Nick and became a huge fan of his music. A couple of days ago, Nick’s guitar arrived back to him in the mail!
Check it out:
And, last but not least, due to some boring tour logistics and a very special John Hartford show at the violin shop I had to get home for between Pony Bradshaw tour weekends, I took the FLIX bus from Charlotte to Atlanta last week. If you are unfamiliar with FLIX, it’s the off-brand Greyhound, like the Kirkland brand bus.
This company is hilarious. The bus stop was at a largely abandoned strip-mall sidewalk outside of a smoke shop. Appropriate, since every single person on the bus was high. The bus driver opened up the hatch and motioned for us to throw our own bags in, then yelled that we weren’t doing it right. In that way, and in most ways, It wasn’t much different from tour, with everyone making friends by sharing their favorite drugs with one another.
At one point, a dank stench of weed wafted through the bus while we were driving, and the bus driver screamed “NO SMOKING!!! FUCK YOU!!!!”
This prompted me to make eye contact with my bus neighbors and we all started laughing. It was a nice moment of human connection. A shared experience of levity. So overall, I give it a 10/10. Highly recommend. Haven’t spent a better $35 in a while.
OK HAPPY SUNDAY!
Rachel
You're a funny lady.