It never ceases to amaze that we all seem to wonder what inspires one to write a piece of music. Sometimes the lyrics are indicative as to the source of that inspiration, but instrumental pieces are another matter. In anticipation of such curiosity, here is the set up for this tune.

In 2009, I had purchased my second mobile phone. It was one of the Blackberry clones which were popular at the time. It was the first one that I'd owned which offered the capability to text and send small photo files, in addition to placing calls. I was soon pleased with my ability to text not only my daughter Jessica who resided in St. Louis, but also my son, who was beginning to experience the wanderlust of a young man in his own right.

In the throes of said lust, Sterling had taken a bus up to visit his sister late that Summer. The house had become terribly huge and quiet with the bustle of 24 years suddenly behind us. 'Empty-nest Syndrome' is a very real thing, and it hit my wife and me very hard. One's purpose in life seems to simply disappear overnight, and there is a struggle to reacquire one's footing.

One morning I received a text from Jessica, informing me that the two of them were headed up to Chicago to visit an acquaintance. I recalled the road trips that my own sister and I used to take in the 70s with fondness.

Along in the afternoon, I received another text from Sterling. He'd decided to part company with his sister in Chicago, and travel on to New York City from there by bus. For a couple of years he'd been threatening to go experience the Big City first-hand, but I kept shrugging it off as a passing fancy. 

Oh shit. There was little I could do to effect this course of events. All I was able to do was watch them unfold for the next 24 hours on the little screen of my cell phone: Jessica's tearful goodbye. Sterling pulling out of the terminal. Watching Chicago fade off into the distance.

And then the deafening silence of the journey.

If you haven't had children you don't know stress. Self-preservation is one thing. Concern for your child is a completely different animal.

This stress manifested within me in the form of friction and the desire to stay busy and preoccupied. The resulting energy ended up driving me into my studio. I picked up my acoustic guitar and began playing. My Muse guided my hands throughout this process.

This tune is a musical journey that was taken as a bus filled with nameless faces - save one - rolled onward into an uncertain future.