Our first stop on the road was in Allentown, Pennsylvania. A town that I never thought would have much significance to me beyond being the subject of a great Billy Joel song. Earlier that day, I had watched all of our things loaded up and carted off by some random Craigslist family. Our couch, bedding, pots & pans, books, even my prized stuffed minion that I had won at the Regal movie theater claw game only weeks before. The young daughter of the family was just so excited when she saw it; I couldn’t let the kid down. Actually, I gave her all of my coveted prizes from games won over the year before. It’s an odd thing, collecting frivolous prizes – giant stuffed monkeys, basketballs covered in a money print, inflatable bats. I just love games, primarily basketball and claw games, but I’m not picky. Anything that I can win… I’m there.
I watched the girl bounce off with my minion as I stood drenched in sweat and doubt. Nick, my boyfriend, was hauling the few items we kept from the house into the Jeep. All of these kept things were strategically stacked on top of the mattress we placed on the floor in the back of the Wrangler, our new home.
I guess it was crazy, this whole situation. I see that now, looking back. But I really believe, in order to do anything great, there must be some level of insanity. At least a drop of it. You’ve got to really push the bounds of conventionalism and ignore “normality” and judgment and naysayers and jealousy in order to dream big. I guess that’s the definition of crazy these days. Or at least the kind of crazy that everyone has called me. This wasn’t my first time taking a leap into the unknown.
We were leaving our stable jobs, adorable neighborhood, perfect row home, in our favorite city, Philadelphia, for complete uncertainty; a mattress in the back of a Jeep Wrangler, a boxer and hound dog rescue, and 16 concerts over two months (which would turn into 32 shows, 50 musical acts, and 15,000 miles driven over a five month period).
The scene is set, that’s my life in June 2017.