Everything forever changes

Over a relatively short period of time, my life has changed rather drastically. Seven months ago:

• I was still the editor of a publication about residential energy efficiency.
• Well over a year had passed since I played even one gig as a professional musician.
• South Florida was where I called home, even though basically the only people I knew were my ex-girlfriend and her four kids.
• It had been years since I spent any quality time with my family in Pennsylvania.
• I had decided to rectify all of the above.

Bear in mind that at this time seven months ago, I'd just taken a solo road trip through the South, hitting up some places I'd always wanted to go:

• Memphis, Tennessee
• Clarksdale, Mississippi
• Little Rock, Arkansas

I'd never been to any of those places. I couldn't have imagined how much fun it would be to pass through! I met many cool people and learned so much about music in a short time. It didn't take much time for me to decide I was going to make some changes, beginning with quitting my editor job and leaving Florida when my apartment lease expired. But an even bigger move was already in the works: my next return to the South for a much longer road trip.

Before I got to visit with my family in Pennsylvania again, my 1,200-mile drive up I-95 coincided with Halloween weekend and one of the biggest gatherings in D.C. in all of 2010. There was no way I was going to miss Jon Stewart's Rally to Restore Sanity. It was especially symbolic for me as I viewed the changes I was making in my life as very positive and all aimed at restoring my own sanity. For one thing, I needed music to be an important aspect of my life once again.

So I spent November, December and January braving cold weather in places like Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York and even Massachusetts. I kept pretty busy and saw a lot of family and friends. My parents put up with me for most of the time. My sister's daughters, who are about 13 years apart in age, are the best nieces in the world anybody could ever ask for, and they both think the world of me. The one who's 21 is the top student hairdresser in my hometown, and she cut my hair every month while I was around. The one who's still in grade school is a tiny bundle of love with some real talents and ambitions, and I hope to keep careful watch over her in the future.

Over the same three months, I also saw some business colleagues. Yes, business colleagues! See, since 2009, I've been employed as a consultant for the nationally syndicated radio show "Get the Led Out," which is put together by people in New York and suburban Philadelphia.

• I turned 31 years old in the presence of Carol Miller, the host of the show and the long-standing primetime DJ in New York's leading classic rock station, as she finished up her four-hour shift at midnight. I spent that entire shift with her, one on one, watching her work and asking her questions about her long and amazing career and life story.
• Back in the Philly area, I met several times with the show's producer, Denny Somach, who will be the coauthor of a book with me next year. We're in the middle stages right now of getting our manuscript together and submitting it all to the publisher. Denny has been published a number of times before, and he says this book will really do great things for my career.
• Denny and I interviewed Jason Bonham backstage at his Led Zeppelin Experience concert in Philadelphia. (I also attended the New York show, and my friend James and I got to hang with the whole band after the show.) Denny and I also interviewed Vince Martell of the Vanilla Fudge.

At the same time, I also got back into playing music thanks to some pretty incredible musicians in the Philly area.

• One night, I found myself playing Led Zeppelin songs on a rickety old piano backstage at an immensely attended tribute band concert. In addition to hanging with members of Get the Led Out for the third time in about a month, something unusual happened when guitarist Jeff LaBar of Cinderella sat down on the bench next to me and started singing what I was playing.
• I also got to play some really well paying gigs with some real pros. One was at the Borgata, the biggest of the hotel/casinos in Atlantic City, New Jersey. Another was my first-ever New Year's Eve gig, in the D.C. area at a bar where the bartender still remembered me from when I last played there with three other bands, in 2007 and 2008.
• I also played three times to standing-room-only crowds at a very homey bar and restaurant in Bridgeport, Pennsylvania, with some of the best musicians I've ever had the pleasure of sharing a stage with. It's great when, even with minimal rehearsal, everything just gels smoothly. There's been a lot of that lately!

After all that time planning my road trip, it finally began at the beginning of February. Determined to put bad weather behind me and music meccas in front of me, I loaded up a carful of my earthly possessions, pointed it southward, and started driving. My first destination was Washington, D.C., to attend a Robert Plant concert with some friends of mine. Another friend happened to be in town on business and offered to put me up for a night in his lush downtown hotel room.

Then, I spent a few days checking out Virginia cities and towns like Fredericksburg, Orange, Charlottesville, Salem and Bristol.

• One night along the way, I stayed with some friends who are getting married this summer.
• I stumbled upon the nation's largest vendor of pedal steel guitars, where one of the staffers tried putting me in touch with a member of Gretchen Wilson's touring band.
• A record store I stopped in was playing a very interesting LP from 1968 by a Portuguese garage rock band called Os Mutantes. I ended up buying the music on iTunes.
• The Virginia/Tennessee border town of Bristol was a great place to hang out for one day and night. I visited the Mountain Music Museum and yakked it up with a touring cover band, After the Crash.

Elsewhere in Tennessee over the next few days:

• In Knoxville, I ate well and stayed with another friend.
• In Franklin, I ate well and stayed with yet another friend. Notice any trends here?

I spent two and a half weeks at a hostel in Nashville, forging new friendships with some legitimate world travelers, many of whom were similarly focused on music, travel or, usually, both.

• With vast amounts of talent all in one place, we naturally jammed and shared our original music. One new friend even brought me to a recording session of his.
• Also while in Music City, I met the Led Zeppelin photographer Frank Melfi, took in a second Robert Plant concert, and went out almost every night to listen to live music. I spent almost every night wondering if there would be any way to get onstage and play. With only one night left in town, I succeeded in playing onstage, only not as a keyboardist but first as a harmonica player and second as a bassist. I'm nowhere near as good on those instruments, and Nashville still doesn't know this.
• One day, I drove to just outside Atlanta, Georgia, so I could surprise my aforementioned ex-girlfriend by showing up and taking her out to dinner around Valentine's Day. She was there on business for a few days, and I figured it would be worth the five-hour one-way drive to see her again. I'm glad we did, as we now seem to be getting back together. This despite our long distance. But it's because we've been unable to get over each other, and all the trip did was make me want to give another shot at planning an eventual future with her.

Three nights were all I spent in Memphis, and my keyboard got used the first two of those three nights in town.

• My first night in town, I showed up at a dive bar where other musicians were jamming on guitars and others were welcome to sit in. So I grabbed my trusty keyboard and joined them.
• The next night as the same place closed, the bartender recommended a place nearby for live music that stayed open longer. Within a minute of my entering the place he suggested, the band happened to be having trouble with their keyboard and jokingly asked the audience if anyone had a backup keyboard. Little did they know some stranger would actually provide!

In the Little Rock area, I first met up with a friend, had lunch, and hopped with her back on the road to continue west to Tulsa, Oklahoma.

• Thanks to a publicist, my name was on the guest list for Joe Bonamassa's show at the Brady Theater. There was also a photo pass for my fellow traveler.
• My friend and I returned to her place near Little Rock, and she let me stay for a week so I could get some writing and planning done. She also made sure I got into town a couple times to take in some live music.

And then my phone rang. A friend called from a few states away to remind me of somebody in Little Rock he'd always thought I should meet. This person was the trumpet player for the Greasy Greens, a 12-piece band that just happened to be in need of a keyboard player for a weekend gig the very next day. The gig was in front of a 5,500-member crowd of marathoners inside the Clinton Library. This was just on Sunday, and I fit in very well because my great ear helped me through several hours of songs I didn't know but was able to follow without problem. The band wants me back for a couple more gigs next month, and I think they'll both probably work into my schedule.

Where I arrived just before sunset today is in Clinton, Arkansas, at one band member's cabin in the woods with a giant lake in the backyard and only a wood stove inside to keep me warm. (Right now, I can still see my breath.) I'll be here alone for a few days, acting like a hermit while I concentrate on writing that Led Zeppelin book. This is my Bron-Yr-Aur moment, and I'll soon emerge with my Led Zeppelin III.

In summary, Charlie Sheen ain't got nothing on me. Winning!