It's that time of the month... Podcastin' time!
This time around we're featuring an interview with the all-talented Mike Carnahan, a singer/songwriter who's putting his money where his mouth is. Mike quit his job, sold all of his stuff, and hit the road. His goal? Make it in the music industry or die trying. We're hoping for the former...
[Mike Carnahan, musician on the go]
Mike's Journal
America's Wayward SonOut of Florida, 2006-08-02It took some time to get the trip underway. Occupational hang-ups, financial insecurity, transportation concerns, all these nagging conditions kept tugging at my sleeve. But logic was never the cornerstone for an adventure like this. Logic would never send me into the unknown armed with two guitars, several amps, and a back-alley drum set, as well as whatever few necessities I could fit into my car.
The Honda Accord became a tightly packed sardine can, low-riding on the back axle.
The last nights were with Vanessa in St. Petersburg. It was a heart breaking birthday cake, you know, hard to leave but excited to go. I ripped myself in half and gave the better piece to the girl I want to marry.
So if things are so great with her, why leave? The problem was that every other aspect of my life was painfully unfulfilled. In a luke-warm haze I could see my future of standing in line for the commodity coaster at Dismally World. A month shy of my 25th birthday and time was running out to hold on to my music aspirations. Not ready to trade my passion for a paycheck I sold off most of my belongings and decided to head west.
Almost two years had passed since my last band, Denada, had broken up. My songwriter soul was scratching up my vocal chords, ready to exhale into a live audience. No avail came from the 7 years I put into the Florida music scene so my mind concocted San Francisco.
Having never been to California before, I was completely trusting my gut on this one. But hey, if I fail, at least it will be one helluva ride.
Next I crossed the state to Port St. Lucie on the east coast to visit my sister and welcome my new baby niece Erin into the world. Playing with my 2 year old niece Brenna and hanging out with my mom (down from South Carolina) was good family fun. The time went fast with my mind awaiting its asphalt future.
As Tuesday turned into Friday I stared into the flashing bulbs of digital cameras and hugged my way through emotional goodbyes. We all commented on how crammed my car was, and I thought what a great commercial it would make for Honda, "The modern VW bus for trans-American drifting." Yeah, well fuck that, I’m no poster boy for capitalism. This trip is about true freedom. Not the manipulating, war-mongering, institutionalized freedom found on TV politics. I’m taking back America for myself. Back where dreams were pursued and the land of the setting sun still held the afterglow of better opportunities, whatever they may be.
I stayed the weekend in Gainesville. My old college town is filled with students, thinkers and bums all wandering physically or mentally. Contemplating which of those categories I fit into, I was reminded of my newfangled homelessness and unemployment.
After visiting with old friends I nostalgically departed to Jacksonville. I got sick there and spent the last night in my home state puking my guts out.
The following morning I staggered onto Interstate 95 heading north. Bidding farewell to the familiar peninsula, I cast my eyes ahead to new lands; the embryonic journey of America’s wayward son.
