Outside of my parent's home in Carmel is a 2004 grey four-door sedan that will carry myself, one passenger and the collective belongings of Male Bondage to Oakland, California, behind a van packed with gear and even more things. The back seat of my car is inaccessible. The trunk is crammed full and because of a broken latch it can't be opened until we're there. On top, weighing deep into the roof of my Malibu, is a turtle shell car top carrier filled with still more things.
Inside, I'm writing this as a seventeen-year-old cat sleeps with his head buried in my armpit. My father is asleep on an adjacent couch. I'm getting ready to take what will be my first shower in ten days and eat what will be my last meal with my family until the holidays (maybe).
Everything that I seem to be doing these past few weeks feels like it's going to be the last. The last time at the bar with these friend. The last time at the Murphy building. The last time on my roof. The last time I order a pizza at 2:45 a.m. One last bike ride.
Life seems to be slowly coming to a stop before it spits and takes off into a full sprint.
Our tour began yesterday in Bloomington at The Back Door. Not only was it an amazing show at an incredible venue, but we got to play with musicians we love - Sleeping Bag, Purple 7, and Sonny Blood. We'll be playing with Sleeping Bag again tonight at West Gate, along with Pessoa, Raw McCartney, and Lantern Eyes (my other band). There's going to be a full moon and a lot of crying.
I've been playing guitar for ten years, but it wasn't until I moved back to Indianapolis after going to school at Ball State in Muncie that I found a place within a larger musical community. Even though I tried to move to Chicago, and failed, I was able to join Wounded Knee, work for NUVO, and be part of what we have here in Indy.
Now I'm standing at the edge of another season of change. Male Bondage is playing again after a two-month hiatus during which the Kokomo twins farmed their hearts out. We're leaving for Tulsa early tomorrow morning and following a route that will leave us in California - homeless, unemployed and sweaty.
We've got connections though, and plans. Without the unwavering love and support from our friends here we could never have done any of this. Without the scores of unique, talented, creative artists that we've been inspired by here in Indianapolis we would have nothing to leave behind. You're all still here and you're growing. You're building and creating and evolving with this wonderful city. You're changing what can't be tolerated and leaving nothing to chance as you continue to push forward.
Know that this means we'll be back. Know that this means you're more than welcome to come to us. Know that we love you. Know that we are excited but scared, inspired but nervous, fearless but cautious, bold but regretful.
I can't name everyone that I'm thankful for in this city and I won't try. I could write a list of people and projects and bands that I'm excited for in Indianapolis, but it wouldn't fit on the screen of your iPhone. So I'll just hope to see as many friends as I can tonight. Goodbye Indianapolis.
My heart is full like the moon.