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40 hours 4 continents

The following was taken from a journal entry written en route from Australia to Germany. Connections included Singapore and London with a brief stay in New York prior to the beginning of the European leg of the tour.

This flight marks the beginning of a long journey. One that will span thousands of miles, nearly 40 hours and from it's inception to curtain call will have trained my feet upon the soil of four of the worlds seven continents. Soil, a term of loose substitution for the sprawling linoleum and conveyer belt walkways of an endless series of international airports. Yes, airports, a reoccurring theme in my life as well as my art. In many ways the airport is the truest touchstone for my existence thus far. At any stage it has been singularly inspiring in it's representation of pause amidst constant motion. Inasmuch it is not a shock the first true song I feel I ever wrote was about an airport. It was also about love and family and a desperation to climb higher, see farther and connect more deeply with one of the few things none of us will ever truly own. The air.

The thin air pressing down and shooting out into ether. When I was about 20 I developed a debilitating fear of flying. Where it came from I have no idea, but it shocked me as well as those who knew me best. For years, primarily in high school, before airports were houses of fear, I would drive my car there, park and file through the security line, just so I could watch the planes come in. Several years later when the fear arose it was like being robbed. Eventually, it grew, until one day it was all consuming. I had a connection in a city I have since forgotten and the perceived brutality of the previous flight buried me in my skull. I surveyed the people boarding, paralyzed and knowing that my time would soon come and that when it did I would not be getting on. The plane pulled away from the gate and as I watched it leave I knew what change was. I learned that the sweetest tastes, quickly and without justice can grow bitter. I was later coached back on a flight by a series of telephone calls to friends. Ironically, one of them was the subject of that very first airport song.

Several months later after falling ill, the plane charged with returning myself and a small group of loved ones back to California, was nearly swallowed up in the skies over Kansas. It was a perfect and unpredicted electrical storm. The kind that always made the most epic summer memories growing up in Ohio. I recall vividly as the drama settled and the wheels finally touched down, that with so much uncertainty ahead of me, one thing would be true forever. I would never again be afraid to fly. Perhaps that is an ironic or at least ignorant statement considering the words and events that inspired it. Still, part of me wants to believe that some things are unwavering, especially as it relates to the demise of fear. Like all good things, as well as bad things, though I suppose there is only fluctuation. Sometimes grand and identifiable, other times ebbing without perception to even the most informed observer. That which is bitter may one day be sweet and that which is sweet may too one day forever change. It is the willingness to acknowledge that change and how it is handled, I suppose, that defines the authenticity of any one life.

GREETINGS FROM AUSTRALIA

I am currently defying the captains orders and crafting this blog on my descent into Sydney. Our first show in Brisbane was amazing despite a long delay for technical difficulties. That said the crowd was patient, amazing and well worth the wait. We're having an incredible time out here and it's been really nice seeing old friends along the way. Sort of feels like a class reunion, getting to catch up with the new found glory and finch guys as well as our friends in the audition and say anything, etc. I've always said I do some of my best thinking in Australia and this trip is no exception. There's just something about this place that I find so peaceful and inspiring. Hope all is well back home. Also, I want to take a quick second and thank everyone for their supportive comments regarding our recent schedule changes. I am a lucky guy to have such an understanding group of fans, and we promise to put together our best shows yet for you on these upcoming tours.

IMAGINE

On this, a week of doubtless historical importance I am sure many of us are thinking about our country and our place in it more than ever. Regardless of your political beliefs it is impossible to deny the progress and significance of this moment in our history. The ramifications are astounding and I count myself lucky to be a part of a generation that appears to be waking up to the role of politics in our lives, both good and bad. That said, in the week leading up to the inauguration I found myself completely taken with John Lennon's album imagine and it's insanely famous title track. We all know it and know it well, I'm sure. I have loved this song my entire life, but when I threw this record on the other day it took on completely new meaning to me. I became obsessed, forcing everyone who entered my car to listen on repeat. The words, the simplicity, this is one of those perfect songs. It is a testament to the power of song and it's relationship with humanity. It reminds me that as overexposed as we all are these days we cannot forget the things that truly matter and govern ourselves on principal not political affiliation. Country means little when the citizenry is lost. This song helped me find myself a little bit, so I thought I would violate some copyright laws and share it with you.

Imagine there's no heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today...

Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one

PS- if you haven't seen Slumdog Millionaire yet, do! it's heavy but a seriously radical film.

-Andrew

CELL PHONE

Driving today I noticed an old phone booth. Upon closer inspection it was just an empty box. This sort of faded pink, wooden shed with a hinging door and no one in inside. There was a sign nailed to its rickety entrance. It read simply... "cell phone".

HANGING ON A BREEZE, SEARCH FOR A CHURCH BELL

As I made my way down the hill this morning for my regular cup of tea, I couldn’t help but be curious. You see, while the New Year began days ago, it is today, the 5th of January that I have chosen as my official start. The scheduled event was a blur of drink and smoke, a celebration of a year gone, not one just beginning. So I indulged it; let it drag on in a sort of hazy last stand, to find myself here on a Monday apropos, the just-barely-cold of Los Angeles stirring my penchant for all things new. Curiosity, I should think is a good thing, both in a new year and on a Monday morning. It is from this place where I wonder if everything I have been doing has already been done. How often does anyone really stand up and ask the hard questions? “Is this where I should be? Am I inspired? Do I do what I do because I need to, want to and love to, or because I don’t know what else to do? And where would I begin even if I should?” These are the questions lining the tiny squares of my new calendar and already I’m five days behind. The promise of any year can hang on wind or clang like church bells depending entirely upon whose listening and how hard. And isn’t that really the point? Are we listeni ng? Is it possible that all the right roads are paved with an earnest set of ears? Maybe so. I have been lucky in this life, that I have found myself inside moments of blistering peace. These times can be riddled with unanswered questions, but rarely are they questions of trajectory. It is inside these moments where purpose and action collide and that which is not easy at least seems meaningful. Today though, like hope I am hanging on a breeze searching for a church bell. This is not a fact I lament, but simply a fact. This is a place I know well, but one that changes with each new stay. On long nights here I go digging through the sands for the bones and tools of a culture I have lost. A culture that is never far in days but is light years gone when searched out with the fingertips. What a strange truth for a man who works with his hands. Still, if peace does not howl on this, the first day of my year, at least it whispers. It may be a distant sound but for it I will rest my tired fingers. Happy new year!

POWER TO THE PEOPLE

I had the distinct honor of being awarded last night with an mtv woodie for the work that I have done over the years for charity. In all the time I have played music I don't think I have been to a single award show and in a way I feel blessed that my first experience celebrated something I hold so dear. The truth is, as I stepped up to receive the award it occurred to me there was not a stage big enough to hold all of the people who truly won this prize. Largely, the acts I was being recognized for, were not my own, but those of my fans, my friends and my family. It is for the people, who in the wake of my own personal struggle took on my cause and my fight to help the sick that I accepted last night's award. It is for the homespun charities and wristband projects, the light the night walkers, the many involved with our amnesty international efforts and those who continue to inspire me through the Dear Jack Foundation that I took the stage last night. Without you all there would be no award, there would be no work and there would be no movement to celebrate. I was beside myself to find that it was, in fact, the fans who voted to put me on stage last night. Thank you! In a category filled with incredible people who have devoted much of their lives to using their celebrity for good it astounds me that I was the one sent to collect. The work of every artist I was nominated with is so substantial and in truth I think it is one award show category that could not possibly have a winner or a loser. To be named next to a hero of mine like Eddie Vedder, who has devoted the past two years of his life to telling the story of a young soldier seems almost surreal, and speaks to the truth that this is not an award I keep but one I share. I share it with anyone who wakes up and looks for ways to make the world around them better and with those of you who deemed me worthy of such an honor. I am truly humbled.

Eddie Vedder
Humanitarian Work
For continued activism surrounding veteran issues, Bridge School benefit, PETA, and Children's music programs.
http://www.pearljam.com/activism/

Emmanuel Jal
"Gua Africa"
A former child soldier himself, he founded the organization to help communities overcome the effects of war and poverty.
http://www.guaafricaonline.com/

Ludacris
"The Ludacris Foundation"
Since 2001, the foundation has donated $500,000 to support grassroots organizations that help connect with youth to build stronger families and communities.
http://www.theludacrisfoundation.org/

Mary J Blige
"FFawn Foundation"
This new foundation's goal is to empower women through scholarships, grants and other educational resources, building confidence and career skills.
http://ourworld.ffawn.org/home.php

CREDIT WHERE IT'S DUE

I wanted to take a quick second to correct a mistake in the credits on the back of the record. Bobby Raw, my dear friend and collaborator, was mistakenly left off the production credits on the back of the album. I take full responsibility for not picking up the omission and wanted to set it straight. As many of you know, Bob has been a big part of both Jack's albums, especially passenger and I couldn't be more thankful for his contributions. The next pressing will have the proper back cover credits and until then you can reference the liner note booklet for full production credits. That is if you're as big a geek as I am when I get a record :) Sorry B.

Get it, got it, good.

-Andrew

SO MUCH TIME HAS PASSED

Los Angeles
Sep. 29 10:22 am

So much time has passed. I have these moments where I think to myself where are you, who are you, what day is it today? Time is lost on me. It always has been. To me, the most sensible thing about time is that the clock is a perfect circle. I keep coming back here; back to this place, but on a different day and with a different set of eyes. I read an old journal this morning. Nearly by accident, but not exactly. It had been lying there in my closet waiting for a home after a recent unpacking. Before I retired it to the drawer where I retire things, I gave it one last look. A page from another life. Same person, different day, different set of eyes, lighter pressure on the pen. A page full of certainty and also full of questions. It's always strange to read the things you've hoped for in the past because by now those hopes may be spoken for or gone, transformed or altogether forgotten. Like time, hope can be so senseless. It can carry us up mountains or lie us in the quicksand. But like time, hope is unstoppable, inevitable, and blind. Sometimes we travel fast, hurdling towards the unknown, sometimes the unknown comes hurdling towards us while we watch time standing still. All of this means very little I'm sure, but it felt like something when I sat down to write it.

Perhaps I've been wasting our time.

Good morning and thank you to everyone who is or will be checking out The Glass Passenger in the upcoming weeks. Your support is both felt and greatly appreciated. So glad to finally have it reach the light of day.

-Andrew

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