It's 2 p.m. and I'm on my third glass of wine. I've just been through a hellish customs check, and I've discovered that no matter what country I'm in, beard equals terrorist or at the very least, "randomly selected for security search."
I've spent most of the past three months in underground labyrinths supporting Nickelback on an arena tour. And while I'm not really burned out, I am looking forward to going home for a week. I rented a home in Los Angeles days before Bush left for Southeast Asia and Australia.
That was in January. It's now the end of June, June 27 to be exact. I've spent a total of seven days in said house in said time period.
What makes it a home?
My girlfriend of 12 years (We should really get married), my beautiful daughter, my dog (He loves me more than anyone could) and my rack of guitars next to my bed. I always sleep with or near a guitar.
When I was a child, I was struck by an article claiming Steve Vai took his guitar to the bathroom to practice while he was relieving himself. I haven't taken a s--- without a guitar since.
I later read that Jimi Hendrix used to sleep on his bus with his guitar, and that "Manic Depression" was actually about his frustration about not being able to make love with his six-stringed beauty. Since then, I've always slept with my guitar in my bed, or at arms' length of myself in dream state.
While I will never ever be as good as either of those giants, I wholeheartedly believe my love for the instrument is in league with theirs. Life never gives you exactly what you imagine, or at least not how you imagine it.
Guitar has given me everything I have ever dreamed of and more.
And I am so thankful for it.
Chris Traynor plays guitar in Bush. Visit him on Facebook.
Photo: Jonathan Beswick