At times it hurts to even look at Daytrotter. There really is something about being confronted with so much beauty that makes one want to run as far away as possible and hide... but then again, hiding away and alone, we start to wonder if we are even missed at all, if our presence and the lack there of has even been noticed. So we return, peering at the edge, and we see our friends, those who have upheld us, those who have inspired us and filled us with love and hope and a sense of purpose. This time though, before these feelings boil over and become to much to bear, we take a deep breath... there is no reason to freak out, these people love you, and you love them too. we are safe here. This is home. We embrace.
When I got an email a few years back asking me to record for this archive, I felt redeemed. I had never really made a proper recording of my songs and to know that they would be listened to was certainly a bit overwhelming, sure, but I was tired of hiding. My best friend Spence and I booked as cheap of a ticket as possible and we were off to Rock Island. While waiting in line at the airport, I found myself standing next to the one and only, Mister T. He was older, he wore not his famous gold chains, he was humble and quiet. I nudged him.
"T?", "is that you?" I said.
"You know it brother", "What's your name?"
Suddenly he had come to life, he wasn't just the aging man and former a-team celebrity standing in line at Budget rent a car no doubt on his way to shoot a commercial for auto insurance in which they would dress him in the mo-hawk and gold chains of yore only to have wardrobe reclaim them after the shoot; he was my childhood hero, on par with He-Man.
"What's your name brother?"
"Christopher".
"Well, Christopher, know this", "Mister T will never let you down", "as long as you believe in him."
And then he was gone.
My pal and i got in our ride and made the drive to rock island.
It was a fitting way to spend the morning that led up the the recording of my session with Daytrotter. As I look ba