The last time my daughter Natalie and I went to the theatre was possibly to see Postman Pat, early in the tour I took her to see Bruce Springsteen. A high ticket price and for a good reason, it was emotional and educational, I knew little about the big man. Bruce mostly read from his book on various screens around the stage and played guitar, oddly a Japanese model but it sounded impressive. His songs never stray too far from the front yard and the close community of home, which is why so many people love him. We were right in front, row two, and I have to say I was eaten alive by his presence. As I was when I first saw Prince up close at a venue in London. It was so nice to be with Nat, we watched the show and then she dropped me back at the hotel where tours a many have come and gone from. I sat in bed and re lived the moments of the night, I learnt so much about the arc of his show and how to really dig deep. He earns 2 million a week doing this, and has extended his run until next June. I might gross 2 thousand pounds on my tour, coming next year, but the fact is we both have so much in common, we have music and the escapism, to leave home and venture out into the world to discover another place. We all try and run away. Bruce now lives two miles from where he was born, perhaps I would too if I could afford it. It was a lovely evening and was much more entertaining than Postman Pat. Although I did miss the black and white cat. A few days later and Cissy flies in with Grace for a weeks stay in the city, for a rare event I had all four children around one table, and they all chipped in! I was proud and happy to have them around me and their hugs fill me with love as they always do. We had a nice meal and they came to the Beacon Show which was possibly the best show of the tour. It felt like The Albert Hall in some ways, and I was really enjoyed the New York love I felt from the stage, it had been many years.

The US tour rolled on from New York here there and all over the place, as it always does. Like a pinball shot out over a map of America with little thought for how many miles one travels in one week. The shows are tight and vary little. No surprises. The  band are all on good form, on my bus Yo, Steve and Stephen, Simon and the driver David. We roll on and nothing much happens, we try to sleep, we eat and the band like a sip or two. I try to sleep in the back of the bus but its noisy and its like sleeping with your head against a massive generator at a festival. Glenn is on his RV with Miles who drives him around, and like us on our bus they suffer the same slings and arrows I’m sure. All the shows seem to be on a good level and even though we are all tired we manage to skate across the thin ice of our set. What can I tell you that you won’t already know. The last week rattles the cage and our 10 week tour comes close to pulling up stumps, and then what>? Who can say.

Back home Lou is busy and when we see each other on the internet its sad, I want to be with her and she with me, but here I am out in the Wild West earning a keep, and how much who knows. Who can say. I can see next year from the telescope within me but I’m not sure how its focused right now, I think I need to rest and look back on this time as I always do with an open mind and tired suitcase. Im a home person but here we are 40 odd years since our first tour still with my nose to the sky being that bloke in that band. When I get home I will post some lovely reviews of the shows and emails from people about the show, and about my book, all very nice to read. All in all this has been a successful time, although tinged with a small amount of pain and anguish. I could never be Bruce, or Postman Pat, but I’m there somewhere in-between, one foot in the garden and one foot on the stage.