By Meg Fair

Touring has always induced the purest of emotions, the most striking moments in my life. Coming home from a tour is always followed by the feeling of sadness. In those moments of sadness I think about those fleeting moments of absolute bliss, where everything slows for a moment and you recognize the enormity of what’s happening around you. Here are some vignettes about the moments of bliss that I recall when things become mundane or my urge to be on a traveling art roadshow overtake me.


We are drinking shitty beer as we grill food at the promoter’s home. We are laughing and I am breathing in the smell of smoke and dreaming of the veggie cheeseburger I’m about to house. I can feel the cool breeze of the July night wash over me.

I am drunk and cackling as we chat around the fire. We are full of food and beer and we are at ease. I feel like the only thing that exists is this fire and our friendship and the stars glowing brightly above us. We are somewhere in Connecticut and I don’t care where. I’m happy.


Under the humid darkness of a summer night, we pack the van. I move the 8×10 bass cab from the basement to the vehicle and I feel like a superhero, my muscles warm and my heart full of pride in my own strength. I am important, capable, valued. I matter here.


Leaping out of a cramped van, I rush to the sand. Lake Erie is in front of us, shining and gentle. My sand-filled shoes sit on the beach as I splash in the water, diving under little waves and challenging everyone to race.

The sun is shining, and I feel as if I have been baptized by the waters. Baptized by three days of listening to my friends pour their heart outs in sweaty bars and basements. Baptized by love and the grimy water of a lake in Erie. This is home.


So much Sheetz. Dogtown in Rochester, NY. Amy’s Place in Buffalo, NY. More Sheetz. The shining beacon of grab-and-go life that is Wegmans. Momofuku, NYC. A million perfect tiny coffee shops with pastries I dream about. More Sheetz. Pasta we cooked in a coffee maker in the van. Hungry for more.


The cool air of Rochester is everything. I am embracing a friend I have not seen in too long. I am working the merch table at a venue that feels familiar even though I’ve never been here before. I’m stretching with Brandon on the sidewalk. I am drinking a beer by the river with the kindest host and Nathan and I feel like I could land here. The world feels pure and safe. Convinced home is a feeling not a place, I take a deep breath and dream of many more weeks on the road and fall asleep with a smile on my face.

Meg Fair is a journalist with a passion for audio and pop culture. She has dreams of daylighting as a journalist and moonlighting as a tour manager or a writer for WWE.