Margaret rustles up some dinner…

WE start the morning rationalising all the gear – what we’re leaving here in New York, and what’s going home.

I’m gonna bring the banjo (the one Charlie Parr left me in Eau Claire a few years back) home – I don’t use it much here, and the Reunion Blues Continental Voyager case they sent last year could be put to much better use at home. It means I can sell Charlie’s old banjo and, if need be, travel with my own if it has the good case.

An email came in earlier asking for help with a poster design. I’m finishing up after a tour in New York – and hoped for a day of not having to do stuff like this. It never ceases to amaze me how sometimes none of the folks promoting a gig – neither the promoter nor artist – somehow are unable to do things like this for themselves. I have a bit of a rant as I’m the one with no money and no time, yet I seem to keep getting dragged into this kinda stuff. It’s not that these folks don’t have the resources to do it themselves…and I fear it’s a case of “can’t be bothered learning” rather than any real hurdle. I sort the poster. I probably bring this shit on myself.

We spend the afternoon updating the mailing list with folks that have joined up on this run of shows then do the tour accounts. We really need to know the bottom line – and sorting all the receipts/spreadsheets will hang over me like a black cloud if we leave it ’til we get home.

It’s 7pm by the time we’re done and none of this stuff is the way we’d choose to spend a day off in New York City. We go out to the supermarket and buy some stuff for dinner, go back to the apartment and eat. Finally, we get ab chance to chill for a while…