Air Miles

An airplane is a strange space.  It is one that we seldom occupy.  I am speaking from a personal perspective as I know that there are people who spend large blocks of their lives engaged in air travel.  That said, by this time in my life I suppose that counting my years in the military I have racked up a pretty good record of air miles.  It has been sporadic however and these days I may go a few years at a time when I don’t see the inside of an airplane.  A little while ago I took a moment to look out the window where I am sitting.  The truth is that I’m unsure where in the world we are exactly, only that we are someplace on the northern part of the planet.  I was looking out over a blue ocean with the sun reflecting off of it and I could see large pieces of ice floating in the water.  About 20 miles away I could see some land.  I always find a view like this to be simply amazing.  I think we are nearing Greenland or environs.

The planet is an amazing  place and you don’t have to get on an airplane to know that.   You can plant a garden and watch the plants grow, see the seasons through their perspective, or visit a forest and just sit on the ground for a 15 minute period watching what is around you.  The airplane gives you a different perspective.  It is unreal, and at the same time surreal.  At one time you are looking down on a part of a planet where you have lived for all of your existence, and on the other hand you are looking  at a piece of the planet that you would never see in any other circumstance except maybe a documentary film, and even then you probably wouldn’t remember that little piece of the planet that you saw out of the plastic window of an airplane.

Several years ago Kristi was having “salons”, and one of them was on environmental issues.  Through that I was taught that the principalsources of CO2 generated by humans were airplanes, and ships.  On the trip over  was reading the magazine that is always in the seat in front of you on a commercial flight and I read that the plane I was traveling on held 25,000 gallons of fuel.  I haven’t done the math to know how much fuel that would be per person on the flight, but I’m guessing that it would account for much of their fuel allotment for their year. 

I recall a conversation with a friend about flying that I had several years ago.  I’m sure that I’m expected to forget most of what I hear, and indeed I’m sure that I do, however, this stuck with me.  I’m pretty sure that I was waxing self righteous about our treatment of the planet,  solutions, behaviors etc. and my friend made an out and out declaration that she would never give up air travel under any circumstance, that it was her right and she was having it.  When I hear something like that I know that it is an unspoken perception of modern reality that I am hearing.  I know that there are many other humans who share her perspective and I have heard people speak many,many times about their travels around the globe like they had accomplished a great deal simply by getting on an airplane and traveling  across the planet to a destination, staying in hotels, or being waited on hand and foot on their cruise ship,  describing the beach in Mexico, or Thailand,  etc. like they were Captain James Cook discovering  part of the planet for the first time.

I would like to take just a moment here to point out that most of the residents of this planet will, and have never set foot on a commercial airliner, or any flight conveyance.  In that regard we must accept the fact that being in a position to travel in this manner is an indication of some privilege in this life, although I believe that most of the people in the western world, by this time, take commercial flight for granted.  As long as there is enough petroleum to supply fuel for these machines humans who can avail themselves of this privilege will feel that it is their right to travel where they desire when they desire.  We see that airlines, lenders, and myriad tourist businesses are piling on to make travel more available and make people feel like they are really missing out if they don’t visit other parts of the world.

I give myself reasons not to visit certain places.  We don’t really go all that many places far away.  When we do it is mostly by automobile.  I don’t know how long it has been that there have been people challenging the status quo where air travel is concerned.  I haven’t read a great deal about it, but I’m sure there are people who are starting to think that perhaps so much air travel is wasteful, and in the long run quite damaging to our planet.  Assuming that people on a large scale start to see air travel as enough of a liability to the planet to stop indulging in it, what will be an event that is high enough priority to justify a long flight?  These days some people fly across the country to visit family on a bi annual, or more basis.  At Christmas time the air terminals are full, and it can be difficult to get on a flight if you don’t think far enough in advance.

I have thought a bit about whether we are justified in making these long journeys to the UK.  By this time we actually have something of an audience there, which is gratifying after all these years of playing there.  We have had the privilege of playing some prestigious folk festivals in the UK, and if I may reiterate, we have met many really wonderful people and made fast friends.  I have always wanted to think, but in a real world I'm not certain that Kristi and I are in any way exceptional.  There are always many more people who think they want to do what we do than there are available  bookings.  I say people who “think” they want to do what we do because I know very well that most of the folks who say they would like to travel with us would bail the first time they found themselves stranded on a lonely road with an automobile that wouldn’t go anymore, or the second night in a strange bed in a strange house with people they don’t know.  In the past I’ve got to say that our habits have been extremely frugal, and even at that strained the limits of our meager existence.  This trip has been particularly rewarding as people have come out to see us at almost every venue that Kristi and I played.  They have been people who have seen us before, bought our CDs and are genuine fans.  It is not the case that Kristi and I have any kind of industrial sized audience.  The number of people who are fans is very modest but they mean a lot to us.  Does this justify flying across an ocean, renting a car and driving to hell and gone?  We must use up much more than our share of the fossil fuels on the planet and that puts me in a moral quandary.

Do we really justify  our use of fossil fuels when we acquire the admiration of our fellow humans?  In terms of the value of “art” in our society what makes one artist worth millions while another languishes in obscurity?  Does the generation of income justify the squandering  of  fossil fuel?  Does the fact that we end up paying for the privilege of being a touring

Artist make us irrelevant?  Should I ask myself such questions? 

From Kristi.

Dexter Gordon recently asked what constituted highlights and low moments of our careers in music.  The question was too big to answer quickly but I can speak specifically of this trip.  Hartlepool’s Folk Club surprised me this time as a highlight.   I’ll set the stage first for you with a description of the place, which is not atypical of British pubs.  The only one that in any way compares in Tacoma to it is the Parkway.  These pubs are between a hundred and eight hundred years old and have numerous rooms in them, with passageways and doors separating them.  I’ve since learned that their uses have in the past been similar to ours; entertainment.  They lend themselves to quietude while others coming in to drink don’t want to stop socializing with their pint, to be an audience for an act. So it was at the Foggy Furze Folk Club in Hartlepool; a Victorian-era pub with a room possibly the size of moderately large parlor in an ordinary house.   The “club” members squeeze into bench seats lining the four walls, with a few small stools eventually filling up until the place is packed almost cheek to jowl.  This lends itself to an appealing intimacy we employed with our performance, talking easily with the audience.  We’ve performed for these people in years past in different buildings but this was by far the best for us.  The clubs are in most cases populated by robust singers who pride themselves in learning a new chorus of an appealing song by the second time it comes around.  These people were prepared for us in a big way.  They sang along with numerous tunes Steve wrote, including his most serious anti-war songs.  The big payoff came afterward with a surprise.  When we talked as usual with our audience we found two fans who actually remembered many of the tunes on two of our CD’s having exchanged them with each other and listened repeatedly to them.  One was a Scotsman who had a very fine voice.  He made my day and possibly my month.  He told me five times that my version of the Irish tune “Johnny I Hardly Knew Ye” (otherwise known as the Irish Rebel Song) was the best he’d ever heard bar none.   That pleased me at several levels. Firstly I hadn’t sung it in a couple of years so to hear someone who had  kept it in mind after so long was a big shot in the arm.  Secondly I’m keenly self-conscious of appropriating a dialect when I perform in the neighborhood of it’s origin and always hope I’m not stepping on toes with my acting efforts in mouthing each vowel and consonant.  He told me he listens to our recording of it over and over again.  Such small moments of gratification redeem all the rest of the stress of the trip.

I had vividly envisioned the last three days of this tour again and again since long before leaving home.  Such is the stress of being the booker and manager of these trips.  My trepidations were not without reason.  The last booking in Southampton was well worth the ten-hours of driving the length of the island from Scotland to the south coast below London.  Our performance at the Foc’s’le Folk Club went well and our reception was a great pleasure.  Here’s a quote from a member of the audience,   Paul Clarke:  "Great guests, with some interesting new songs (and a few favourite old ones). Afraid the pint of beer looks bigger than Kristi, which isn't far out! :-)"

Then came the last leg of driving.  We had spent much of the day carefully getting rid of accumulated groceries and re-packing our belongings to fit all into the tight spots of our small luggage.   So we were ready for this airplane when we hit the  road after the gig in Southampton at 11:30 pm, to drive what should have been a little over an hour on the motorway (read freeway in American) to London to spend a few hours of rest in a hotel before catching this plane.  But the M3 threw us off it’s beautiful, wide, welcoming four lanes for the last thirty of the sixty miles, for road construction.  So we wound around the old London Road through the neighboring towns south of London, stopping at numerous lights and roundabouts as the traffic increased.   We kept following detour signs hoping in vain to get back onto the motorway.   We drove directly to our hotel off the ring road, arriving at around 1:30 am.  Our plane was due to leave today at 11 am so we threw on our clothes at 6:30 am and made a mad dash for the car rental and then the bus, loaded up heavily with instruments and backpacks, arriving as planned, three hours early.   All three hours were necessary with barely a moment to spare to get to this plane and on it.   Heathrow interestingly has a very thorough security system, staffed mostly by people of color, not the least of whom appear to be Muslim as evidenced by the turban.   That sort of diversity was uplifting to me.   Being inspected was not. The first security officer asked us quite a number of questions in the vein of how much we enjoyed our trip and what was best about it.  I suspect she had more serious motives than small talk though and never really understood what she was fishing  for.  We were probably too nervous in any case.   The luggage security check-in took a full half hour.  All five of our carry-on items were completely eviscerated by the polite man.  He did give me the option of re-packing my own dirty underwear though which was a small relief.  The biggest relief and the final scene that in anticipation had replayed itself in my imagination a dozen or more times since I booked this tour, was getting on this plane.  We have an hour left and I feel the small comforts of home already, exaggerated in my homesickness.  Fastening my seatbelt and stowing this now.