So now I'm finally headed home after two months, tons of shows and a big stack of frequent flyer miles. I admit I'm tickled by the idea of having been all the way around the planet, even though that really just comes down to a willingness to sit in a cramped airplane seat for long periods of time, hardly the clipper ships and caravans that once implied.

I've always been deeply attracted to all things foreign, and I often make great concessions to other cultures which I would not allow my own. I catch myself adopting an apologetic tone when admitting I'm from the States. On a planet that bears the grand opening of a brand new McDonald's every seventeen hours, I think this is understandable. And that's not even touching on tourist behavior or foreign policy.

But now as I begin to indulge myself with thoughts of my own pillow, I find it quite effortless to list things I love and miss about my native land. Stoplights, for instance (as opposed to roundabouts), and right on red, and the fact that people don't smoke in the grocery store. And space between houses. The fact that it's comparatively easy to find vegetarian food. Closer to home there are the mountains, and good old southern American English.

I'm captivated by a good-natured Aussie yelling 'Good On Ya!' after I finish a song he likes, or a Dutchman waving as he leaves with what sounds for all the world like 'How do' (this isn't Texan at all, but rather an abbreviation for a Dutch phrase meaning 'be well'). Sure I'm tickled by the German signage with words long enough to park even an American car on. I love to watch the Bosnians walking arm in arm, speaking their friendship, women with women and men with men, with no raised eyebrows. I cracked up hearing a Kiwi apologize for a low performance fee saying the club "runs on the smell of an oily rag." All this colorful communication attracts me, and even after two months on the road, there's a part of me that longs to keep going.

But I'll do these last two shows in Holland, fly back to Charlotte on Thursday and hug my sister Kathy at the airport. I'll think of excuses to stop more often than we really need to on the drive back to Black Mountain, listening intently at gas stations for the first 'y'all.' And I'll go to the grocery store the next day to stock up on eggs and bread and such, and it's guaranteed that I'll see at least three people that I know, and the rhythm and tone of the voices will not only sound beautiful, but familiar. There's no place like home.

The shows on this trip have been mostly great, with a very few where I had to check my ego at the door and remember that I'm starting over in a whole new country, and have to earn people's attention. The real force of the trip, though, hasn't been about the time on stage, or at least not only that. It has been measured in individual moments; jamming after the festival at Ray's house in Adelaide, Australia, running down the mountain to watch a pod of dolphins playing in the ocean off of Pepin Island in NZ, "tramping" (hiking) in the Blue Mountains near Sydney, singing Cheryl Wheeler songs in a kitchen in Sarajevo, and sampling wines with a bunch of Seminarians at a vineyard in Germany. Far too many moments to list, even abbreviated like this. And that's not even getting into the actual shows. I co-billed with some great musicians, from Perth's Graham Greene to England's Tim van Eyken & Jez Lowe. I sat on the grass at a festival in Australia and listened to Scotland guitar virtuoso Tony McManus play my Taylor (yep, he was reluctant to give it back), and sat in the grass in Broken Hill passing guitars around with some teenagers that were walking by and saw the guitar. Jim Low taught me something of the history of Australian folk, and I sat in my friend Dzevad's living room in Sarajevo, where the furniture has shrapnel scars, while he turned me on to the music of Bosnian pop/folk musician Dino Merlin. Davy, Jared, Denny, Kenny, that list could go on, too. No shortage of songs on this trip.

I've enjoyed planting some new seeds and also discovering people around the planet who already knew my music through one channel or another. There were a couple of German high school students at my show in Bad Kreuznach who knew every note of In the Light, my second album, which came out in 1992, but hadn't heard any of the recordings since. And Stefan, who I met when he was attending Lyon college in Arkansas, showed up last night at my show here in Eindhoven.

It's been an enriching and challenging time, and of course it will be good to get home, too. Kathy & I will be shoring up the Spring calendar in the next few weeks, and we'll be getting the movie shipped out ('what movie!?!' you say? Click here to find out...). With the loss of Josh in the office (off, with our enthusiastic blessings, to make his own excellent music) and me being out of the country, Kathy's had much more to do than is humanly possible, so I'll be pitching in too when I get home.

Kathy's shared two bits of exciting news from the homefront this week, too. One is that the new issue of Performing Songwriter Magazine features a glowing review of Corners. We'll post the entire review here soon. The other newsflash is that the title song from S.S. Bathtub just took first place in the kids' music category in the SAW's Mid-Atlantic Song Contest (a national contest that is apparently named that because it's based in DC).

I've got a couple of new songs from this trip & I look forward to playing them for you. Hope our paths will cross soon. Three airplanes to go...

David