Sleepy Skrillex

Skrillex is taking a nap in a hammock.  I mean, why not?  His posse's loitering, confused, face drugs kicking in- how, after all, can one heap adulation upon and bask in the glory of said hipster DJ while he's contentedly sawing wood?  It’s 2012, our first swing through Hang Out Fest in Gulf Shores, AL.  My life has changed completely almost over night. 

A few months prior, I’d been teaching guitar lessons and bouncing around from band to band.  It was suggested to me, very lovingly, that I’d make a great therapist- perhaps I should consider going back to school?  Face facts, Trevor- if it was going to happen, it would've happened by now.  You’re never making it.  And that’s ok, we love you.  But, please, let it go.  This was pre-Frozen, mind you, so little empowerment's attached to that statement.  Rather, resignation.  


It’s strange, the whole thing.  It's registering, in the sweltering Alabama heat a half decade ago, that I’m a full-time touring musician, playing in this quirky band, everything’s shiny and new and I’m so excited I can hardly sleep.  We’re still in a van at this point and stage hands chuckle as we beep beep beep in triumphant reverse, wedging ourselves between the Port-a-Potties and Switchfoot's tour bus. 

I’m thinking this is gloriously unexpected, and thank you whatever higher power's casting its omniscient gaze in my direction 'cause I need this.  Finally, after all the years and opportunities evaporated, I'm, well, here.  Just here.

2012 is a year of so many firsts- first open bar at a big music festival, first celebrity sighting where I have the same VIP access.  First time playing the Gorge, first time on national television, first time being mistaken for John Mayer.  There're other firsts, too.  First time landing in Seattle, depressed and jet lagged, heading to an apartment where half the stuff’s in boxes.  First time packing up my half, renting a storage unit.  First time knowing there’s a number I can’t call anymore.

That was five years ago, almost to the day.  A lot has changed, thankfully.

It's still strange, the whole thing.  I hope that never changes.