Journey to Canadia
The washing machine is full of turbans, and their predecessors are draped about my room like long colorful flags drying for my journey to Canada. I’ve been hired to film an Indian (Sikh) wedding and I’ll even be performing some of the Indian wedding music alongside my friend who plays Sarod. This is both thrilling and terrifying, as I’ve just learned the rags and one of the pieces is in 14/4.
I’ve decided to go old school and pack my grandfather’s little monogramed American Tourister suitcase. It should keep the nicer clothes a little less rumpled than my typical backpack and it’s stylin’ besides. Somehow he managed to travel for years with just this, and I can’t seem to leave my house without several massive army duffles. Of course, I never seem to travel without being on some kind of project, and so I’ll be fighting the airlines as usual for a place to put my precious guitar and to keep them from tossing my laptop or camera under the plane.
As this is a post 9/11 world I also have to live in constant terror of being targeted and incarcerated, so sadly I had to remove my “ISH” necklace, which looks a little too Arabic, and swap it out for my bone penguin. The border guards don’t know to fear penguins just yet. With only the beard and hair I should be able to keep it limited to the pat down and luggage search I usually receive. If I don’t crack a smile they won’t have to bring out the rubber gloves.
All in all it makes me long for the beauty and simplicity of the road trip, an American form of adventure soon to become obsolete with ever increasing gas prices. I may try to get one more in this summer before they go away forever, but it’s already going to cost me quite a bit. Maybe I can make the last American road trip film at the same time!
Until then, Viva Canadia!
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