So as I dive in with stories from the UK trip, today I'd like to discuss my favorite "musician" experience. Now, granted, the whole trip was musical in nature, but some of the memories are more about the audiences, crowd responses, equipment issues, adventures with the guys off stage, tea and biscuts, etc. Today is about the sheer "cool musician vibe" experience. We did a show in a Nothern town called Bolton. We played it last trip as well. This time we played at a place called The Gypsy's Tent. A local soul group, Checkmate, played the bill too. Great guys, cool band. At the end of our set, I invited them up for a big jam. We covered The Stones "Sympathy For The Devil". The coolest part was that we had a trumpet player throughout. Cole is a very nice guy and a hell of a musician. Great soul singer too. Anyway, the solo sounded like John Mellencamp's "Love and Happiness". It was bad (that's bad meaning good not bad meaning bad, brother). It was just such a cool vibe. It's those moments when I'm really glad I'm not just a singer but that I play an instrument. That give and take among the musicians just winging it is awsome. You're just playing off each other, hangin' on for dear life. Yeah, it was cool. The trumpet really makes it stand out in my mind. When you're in a rock and roll band, you don't taste too much trumpet. I love playing Paul Shafer during those big jams, calling out to whoever is going to step out next. It's very "musician", very basic to what I've been doing since I was 15, sitting there at the foot of my bed learning chords. With all the planes and photos and this and that and an interview here and there, it's good to come back home sometimes. Take care. Later, Butch

I woke up today kinda blue. You know those days when you wish you were 10 again? That was my morning. I wanted to tell my son to forget school, and then we could go to the park and kick around the new rugby ball I brought home. Afterwards, I'd have lunch with my parents. Yep, I planned it all out in the shower as I let the hot water hit and massage my brain. To be 10 again, with not a care in the world, ah, but that was the key to my morning. As it progressed I realized compared to many others, I don't have a care in the world. Maybe not today, but this weekend I CAN kick the rugby ball with my son, and I CAN call my folks and get together soon. And so I realized I shouldn't be so blue. I'm just overwhelmed sometimes at the hectic pace I choose to live. But I also realized that in that hectic pace there are many things I really love to do. It's my choosing, everything comes with a price. I just need to make time to get all those little things in (rugby, golf, watching baseball with my dad, conversations with mom, etc.). And so, rather than feeling blue, my morning became being thankful for what I do have, and realizing it's all attitude and keeping things in perspective. It's all good, no time to feel down. Summer is right around the corner. Ten will be possible for a few moments come June. Take care. Later, Butch

So she was really really drunk. She found her way backstage at Fords Club in Widnes, UK. She had a copy of my "Unknown" CD in her hand. She wanted autographs... from anybody. Me, the band, the soundcrew, guys moving PA equipment, the club's DJ, anybody. Then she asks where will we be playing the following evening. I hear someone say, "The Gypsy's Tent, in Bolton." She then turns to me, looks me in the eye, and begins to babble about how careful I should be with "me" guitars and such, 'cause those gypsies will "rob you blind!" Wow, that's a lot of alcohol consumption. I know we're not big time, but did she really actually think I was playing in a tent for nomads? I just smiled and said I'd be careful. Why bother? Let her ride her buzz. Take care. Later, Butch

I'm back. Got in late last night. So much to tell but not today. When you've been out of the country for nearly two weeks, things back home tend to pile up. I'm a busy bee this morning trying to sort and settle. Be assured I have much to tell in the next few days. All went very well. I'll fill you in soon. Promise. Take care. Later, Butch

And so this is the last blog until March 28th. I won't sleep in my own bed for the next 11 nights. While you're driving to happy hour tomorrow afternoon, I'll be playing my set in Liverpool at The Cavern Club. The UK is five hours forward from Tampa time. I can't say I really get jetlag because of the crazy hours I usually keep anyway. I just hope I can sleep on the flight today. Well, not much else to say. The blogs the past 3 months have all led up to today. I'm ready. Talk to you soon. Take care. Later, Butch

Today's flavor is that of clerk. It's one that I hate. Filling out forms isn't my cup of tea (with milk!), however it has to be done. Copyrights protect you and your music. It's like insurance. You're always thinking you won't need to cash it in, but if something happens and you haven't done it, you'll feel like a fhuge dumbass. ASCAP (American Society of Composers, Authors, and Publishers) monitors commercial broadcasts. If your stuff is played, they'll collect payment for you. My membership is under the name Ryno's Paw Music. You might've seen that on my CD's. It's like having your own little publishing company. There are forms, forms, and a few more forms for ASCAP, more than for the copyrighting. It's all great fun. And so that's where the rock and roll has me today. Tomorrow it's off to the UK and a gig at The Cavern, today it's clerk boy. Tomorrow it's pills to pass out and not experience the pleasure of an eight hour flight, today it's visiting the post office and wishing I had pills to help me deal with the long lines I always encounter. It's all so very rock and roll. "Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose"(Neil Young, "String Man"). Take care. Later, Butch

I had about two and a half hours sleep but that's ok. I got stuff done, which is a good thing. Took care of the personal (paid bills, filed taxes, etc.) and the band (changed strings, packed my gear, got the master for the comp CD). By the time I get back, March will be just about over. Now that's not a bad thing, it means baseball season is ready to get going. I'm just mentioning it because I have this panic about me. I don't want to forget something and then come back to a headache. I've got lists all over the place. Other than that, all is great. Got a new pair of Chucks for the road trip. Guess it's not really a road trip, is it? Nothing like a new pair of Chucks. That's a feeling I'll never out grow. Well, not much else. Nothing too interesting here. Tomorrow will probably be even weaker, but that would be a good thing. A few days of simple nothing would be nice. The next two weeks will be filled with planes and trains, and me saying, "excuse me?" like a dumbass because I can't pick up on accents (are they really speaking English?). Yeah, a few days of nada would be nice. Take care. Later, Butch

And so begins the final few hectic days before leaving the country for almost 2 weeks. There's so much to get in place, both personal and with the band. You want to make sure you haven't forgotten to do something so that when you get back you don't have a big headache on your hands. Then, as far as the band is concerned, you've got to make sure everything is still moving forward once you get back. Reality tells you once the plane, train, and wrong side of the road adventures in the UK are done, you still have gigs to come back to. Hell, Chicago for the Summer is starting to be looked at. The machine must continue to keep rollin' on. A compilation CD to be released, along with planned road trips, keep the "offices" busy busy busy. The thing is, you're never ever "done". Never. You always must be planning the next move. This was a big one though. On January 1st, I had no band and a little UK tour set up. The work was double time. If everything is moving along smoothly, you don't usually have such a time of it. I'm glad this part is finally over. The last rehersal was last night. We're ready. Anticipation is starting to give way to being focused. Take care. Later, Butch

The candy colored clown they call the sandman. Yes, that's who I'd like to meet. I'm tired today. Gig last night. Sleep would be nice. That's where the clown comes in. I think that's the sandman, sleep. Why? I do not know. I mean, sandman for sleep? Have you ever slept on sheets that were covered with sand? Very uncomfortable. When I was a kid growing up in the sunshine state of Florida, vacations to the beach were as common as the rain in the UK. After two days or so, if you didn't clean your sheets, you could feel the sand from your feet all over the sheets as you tried to sleep. It was awful, much like this blog entry, much like my brain today due to lack of sleep. And so it comes full circle, the circle of life. Adios for now. We'll talk on Monday. By then I'll be rested and frantic. So many little things to sort out before leaving for the UK on Thursday. Take care. Later, Butch

While I hope all who read my blog enjoy it, today I'm writing directly to one person. A few blogs back I described England as a wet and cold land. I was generalizing, true, but I meant no harm. The two times I've been there it's been wet and cold so therefore, in my mind, it's a wet and cold place. I wasn't bashing it for being wet and cold, simply describing it as I've seen it. I know it can be sunny, and even in the cold wet, it's a beautiful country that I really do like. I enjoy it's traditions and people, honestly. I'm even starting to get their whole "tea" madness thing. Anyway, I just checked the weather forecast for when we get there: high's in the mid 40's, lows in the upper 30's. That means "cold" to a Florida boy. Rain showers EVERY day. That means "wet" to everyone, even the fish. What can I say? BB, I love your homeland, I really do, but it's cold and wet there. No biggie. I will drink hot tea (with milk!!!!!), have a pint or two, wear my Cubs cap in the rain so that everyone knows I'm an idiot Yank (at least I won't wear the wrong soccer team, uh, I mean football, stuff in the wrong town and get my American baseball ass kicked), and enjoy the wonder that is the UK. It's awesome. I just wanted to explain why to me it's a wet and cold land. Wet and cold weatherwise, but very warm emotionally. Thank you. I can't wait to get there. Hello England. This is Butch, you know, Butch Ryan, your adopted son (as I stated at the St. Helens gig a year ago). I just called to say I love you. And P.S., Liverpool is the best of the best. I'm Butch Ryan from the U-S-A, and you must be the U-K!!!! (A stolen greeting from Spinal Tap, custom fitted for Butchie.) Take care. Later, Butch

One week to go. Next Thursday we fly out of Orlando to Manchester, touchdown at 7:30 am local time, drive to nearby Liverpool, check in to the hotel, and before you know it, find ourselves doing a sound check at The Cavern Club, legendary home of The Beatles. As excited as I am, I must say I'm ready for it to finally be here. It's been a long time coming, with many hoops to jump thru, hurdles to leap. To say that there have been sleepless nights along the way would be putting it mildly. In late December, things looked as bleak as the Kansas sky I drove past. I felt alone (thanks for hangin' in there with me BB). I tried real hard to stay as positive as possible. Attitude was everything, still is. Stay focused and stay the course. And that still has to be the M.O. The realization that there will ALWAYS be problems to solve, and the spirit to say that they will be solved (where there's a will, there's a way. It all depends on how bad you want it.) is all you've got to hang your hat on. Yep, as that big plane takes off I will feel some sort of personal victory. The work paid off. What some people think isn't possible, is. You make your own reality, remember that. Never let others dictate your dreams. Keep on keepin' on. In the end, win or lose, you'll be happier with yourself for fighting the good fight. Take care. Later, Butch

God bless Kirby Puckett. He played the game like a man and enjoyed it like a boy. May we all find such passion in our life's work. As a baseball fan, Puckett was everything you wanted in a ball player. He never let up, never gave in, and every so often made the impossible happen, the true sign of a Hall of Famer. He always seemed so happy, like the only place he should be was on the diamond. He made you want to watch the game. I was never a Twins fan, infact in one of his two World Series championships, I was actually rooting for Atlanta, and still I couldn't help but smile at Kirby Puckett and the way he played. He did it the right way. Sad as this ending is, he will always be remembered for everything that is good in baseball, everything that is good when a person is doing what they should be doing, and enjoying every second of it. In the end, can any of us ask for anything better? Take care. Later, Butch

I went to a zoo yesterday. Hadn't been to one in many years, and the last time I had been to one I think I was more interested in watching my son, making sure he was okay within the crowds, and making sure he saw "everything", that I wasn't really viewing things for myself. Well, yesterday I did. It was amazing. I really looked at the animals with a sense of wonder I hadn't felt in a long long time. It was like being a kid again. I hope that keeps happening to me as I get older. I hope things that should have meant something but didn't because I was too busy, come back around with a sense of wonder. The size of the elephants and gators were like too much to comprehend. I don't know how I missed having that feeling the last time around. I guess I was too worried with everything else to enjoy it on that level for me. Makes me wonder what else we miss in our lives. I guess retirement is a wonderful thing. Not that I'm even close to that (I got carded TWICE for beer!!!!). Just makes me think. Take care. Later, Butch

Thank goodness some fashion trends don't come back around. Why was it EVER acceptable for a dude to have feathered hair, cut his Heart, Blue Oyster Cult, or Thin Lizzy concert shirts to expose his lower back and stomach, wear tight jeans and white Nike tennis shoes, and have an oversized hairbrush in his right back pocket? Geez! I had a soundman in the very early 90's who still had that look. It was horrible. Clubs would ask management to please have him put on a "full" shirt during load in. What an embarrassment, what a jackass. Then there was Ron John, the biggest stonner in my neighborhood when I was growing up. He was like six years older than us which made him old, real old. The dude was lit up 24-7. He once made himself a skateboard that was exactly the size of his left foot. He thought he was the shit, the cat's meow. It was a skate without the boot. He fell off and scraped himself up daily. No wonder they call it "dope". The pot head was full of scabs. Anyway, good thing not all trends make a come back. Awful. Take care. Later, Butch

This morning I was listening to a song off of my Honeylove CD, "A Question of Doubt". The song is about compromise. It got me thinking. Isn't everything in life about compromising? Not giving in, but more of accepting. When you prioritize, aren't you actually compromising? Compromising usually is taken as a let down, a giving up and giving in. That, to me, is a cheap dismissal. Compromising is a very basic aspect of life. You compromise watching the last quarter of Monday Night Football so that you'll be rested in the morning, or you compromise feeling tired in the morning to watch your team play late into the night. And it builds to more complex issues. You compromise the close relationship you have with your parents when you decide to find a mate. I guess what I'm thinking is that "the compromise" is a very normal thing, a very healthy thing. By definition, it's the partial surrender of claims or demands by each side. It's making decisions. And I think, not asking whether good or bad, simply doing what you want and feel in your heart. Gut instinct. Putting up with the crappy side of something in exchange for the good side.
I'll compromise the tired feeling of an 11 hour drive in the van because I want to play Nashville. Some may not, but I will. I guess that always begs the question, "how much are you willing to compromise?" Take care. Later, Butch

Perspective. That's the key to everything. At least that's what I'm thinking. Perspective influences attitude, and attitude is without doubt everything. Through attitude and perspective we can gain contentment. That's the hardest to obtain, yet the puriest. If you've got contentment, the world and life are A-OK. But it's hard to obtain. It starts with the way we look at things. Realizing as bad as you may think things are, somebody somewhere is dealing with worse, is a good start. It's not that you should seek out other people's troubles to make yourself feel better, but in realizing that is the case, you can gain perspective, start to become a "glass half full" rather than a "glass half empty" type of person. And that, my friends, is all attitude. To those out there I know and keep in touch with, those who are in somewhat dire straits these days, remember, somebody's got it worse. Not to diminish your situation, but put it in perspective. Seek out the things that are whole and good in your life and be thankful for them. It's the way I try to cope. Believe me, we all have troubles. They may seem big to us, big to others, and yet small to others, thus, maybe, becoming smaller to us. Hang in there. Cope. You'll make it, I know you will, we will. Good luck and know you're not alone. Take care. Later, Butch