It was so worth it

When last we left our heroes, they had just begun their UK tour after a strange late-night sighting of a magical airborne tour bus, pulled by reindeer, with a redheaded, flowing-bearded Ginger Joe shouting out the names of the towns we were about to visit.

And me?

I had visions of writing to you from the road.

Every day.

Or every other day.

Okay... maybe every three days.

Yeah.

About that.

There is SO much to tell you. But first, I need to share one important discovery I've made on this tour:

There is an entirely different level of TIRED that I did not previously know existed.

Picture the most tired you've ever been.

You're at the end of a long uphill road, when you discover a sign that says:

TIRED →

It points into a dark forest.

You somehow make it through the forest and discover an enormous mountain.

At the top of the mountain is another sign:

TIRED →

This one points up a sheer rock face disappearing into the clouds.

So you climb that.

Eventually you reach the top, collapse, and start looking for somewhere to sit...

...when you notice a rope dangling out of the sky.

Attached to it is another sign.

TIRED ↑

That's where we are.

And if this sounds like I'm complaining or crying, “Oh, poor pitiful me”...

I am absolutely NOT.

Because here's the thing:

It was so worth it.

Two quick stories.

Getting everything to the UK was insane. Bags. Equipment. Cases. Bits. Pieces.

Schlepping.

SO much schlepping.

Eventually we dragged ourselves into band rehearsal, plugged everything in and kicked into the first tune, “Building.”

And suddenly the room exploded.

The sound. The band. The voices. The energy.

Tired?

What tired?

It was so worth it.

Fast forward through pre-production, setup, final tweaks and about 4,732 things I'll tell you about another day.

Everything was working perfectly.

We got on the bus for Birmingham.

Loaded in.

Set everything up.

Ta-da!

NOTHING WORKED.

I'm not kidding.

Nothing.

But Colin is a genius. The crew went to work. We employed every available piece of technological bubble gum and baling wire...

And somehow...

The lights went down.

The show happened.

And when THE END appeared on the screen, the Birmingham audience jumped to their feet.

And stayed there.

Eventually I had to explain that we couldn't do an encore because everything else we know is also 90 minutes long.

They laughed.

Then they wouldn't let us leave the lobby.

They wanted to tell us what they'd experienced. How the show moved them. How they'd never seen anything quite like it. When were we coming back?

And standing there, somewhere beyond the forest, above the mountain, dangling from that rope...

I thought:

It was so worth it.

So yes.

There are stories.

LOTS of stories.

And I'll tell you all of them.

But first...

I need a nap.

That's it. I'm not gonna get all mushy.

See ya ~ Kevin