I am dropping my twin daughters off with their mom in Boston. She does monitors for Pearl Jam and will have the girls out with her for the next 11 days while I head overseas with Chili Peppers. Pearl Jam are magic people, I feel like they are my extended family and the rush of quick catching up since I saw them not 3 weeks ago in New York is wonderful. The whole camp, band, crew, management, the music, all is magic! Oh, and to make things even more heart warming, they play their song "Rats" during sound check.
Don't know if it was a coincidence or intentional but it makes me happy either way. I remember that day that we got a call at the Rat Shop from Pearl Jam for a graphic of our Rat Sticker. We had no idea it would end up in the CD sleeve next to a song, Rats.
Tears hurt. The euphoria of seeing Pearl Jam family comes crashing down as my daughter Samantha's eyes well up with tears and she clamp hugs me with all her might, pleading me not to go. It hurts a lot and her sister Maddie holds strong but I can see and feel her swallowing the sadness I miss them already. It hurts and I don't feel lucky anymore.
There is nothing (that lasts longer than a half an hour) that rivals the feeling of shoving off on a tour. On the polarity flip-side of that input is the eye welling reaction to hearing a 4 year old ask (before he even says "Hi daddy!") "When are you going to come home?" And he'll ask for the entire time away...