I just saw David Bowie. Never mind that he’s been dead for years. It was him. Walking down the aisle to find his seat on this flight headed to Seattle. He saw me and knew that I recognized him. He glared at me. He didn’t seem to be in a very good mood. I guess being dead and then forced to take a five-hour flight to Seattle will do that.

It’s appropriate that David Bowie would be on this flight. I’m headed to Alaska to play some music. For me, it’s the gig of a lifetime. Before the night is out, I’ll touch down in Fairbanks and then a four-hour drive to a tiny town called Paxon. I’ll be staying at a lodge on the McClaren River and playing for the other guests.

I’m not alone. Makenna and Chet are going to play music, too, and Makenna’s mother, Tanya, is the generous instigator of this trip. Her aunt owns the lodge.

More in a minute. I have to stop writing for a moment. Dinner is about to be served. I’m flying first-class, you see. My first time indulging in the finer art of flying.

The flight attendant just brought me a nice glass of wine, then gave me a little dish of nuts. Cashews, walnuts, almonds. Warmed. Nice.

Let me tell you about dinner. Roast chicken was the main entree. A smashed potato, which is really just a medium sized steamed potato, green beans, shrimp, a mixed-greens salad, and a hot roll. Real silverware and a cloth napkin. Very Nice.

The flight has turned bumpy. As I type, my wine is sloshing around in my glass, threatening to wreak havoc on my new HP. I’m no stranger to such mishaps.

Seated next to me is a nice lady who flies in this manner all the time. I told her I was just a hillbilly, dazzled by all niceties. I didn’t use those words but I’m sure she could fill in the blanks. She said she felt bad for the people in the back of the plane, those poor souls on the other side of the curtain.. I agreed, but allowed that I was going to rub it in to my friends a little bit, my friends being the aforementioned Chet, Makenna, and Tanya. Well that’s not very nice, she said. True. But a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.

It’s now too bumpy to write. It might` be nap time.

We’re four hours into our five-hour flight. And as nice as first-class is, sleeping is still uncomfortable. I can only imagine how the others are faring. Sometime tonight we will get to Paxon, probably around three or four in the morning, Local Body Time. I hope there are no plans for tomorrow.

            At some point on this trip, we’ll get around to playing music.

            Chet has been playing for years and he’s as smooth as they come. He plays covers but also sings originals. Always a warm, heart-felt song. Makenna’s only nineteen but she’s been performing since she was thirteen. She has a naturally powerful voice that will bring down the house. And she’s a very good songwriter. These two are pros.

            And then there’s me.

            I’ve had a guitar since I was a kid more than fifty years ago. But it’s only in the past couple of years that I got serious about actually playing a song all the way through. Then I learned how to sing while I play. That in and of itself was no easy task. Last year I started writing songs.

            And here I am, flying to Alaska to play music for people. What the hell.

            Now lest you think that I’ve tapped into my heretofore unknown musical genius, I can assure you that’s not the case. I’m a very basic guitar player, my vocal range is about three-quarters of an octave in the lower register, and my songwriting features such classics as “You Lying Cheating Thieving Ho.”  Yes, friends and neighbors, I’m the bottom of the barrel.

            So why am I on this trip?

            Well, I have learned enough songs to play for an hour or two. And I’m a low maintenance kind of guy. No drama here. So I’ll help fill the void and not cause any trouble. But the truth is, I’m a paper lion. I’m George Plimpton trying to learn enough to play a few snaps for the Detroit Lions. You’ll have to Google that.

I have no illusions about my musical ability. I consider it most wonderous grace, that as I approach my twilight years, I’m able to do what I’ve wanted to do all my life – play music for people.

            It’s been a crazy journey. Stick around and I’ll tell you all about it.