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As I did so, a tingling sensation ran down my spine, as if this simple Google search might open my world up to something new and exciting.
I couldn’t wait to find out what that might be.
And part of me couldn’t help but wonder if it had anything to do with this funny, talent, attractive mystery man musician that Ashe had mentioned, who may or may not be coming to the Summerfest concert from Norway.
Chapter Three – Theo
I never played much Tetris as a kid. Mostly because I was born years after it was first popular, even in Europe. But that was only a detriment when it came to packing for a long trip. If only I could figure out how to fit so many things into such a small space.
Fortunately for me, my younger sister Petra was more of a retro kid.
“This is a disaster,” she said, surveying the chaos of my big suitcase.
“What did I ask you?” I asked in Dutch.
“To speak English so you can practice?”
“Exactly.”
“Fine,” she sighed in English, her Dutch accent so light as to be nearly undetectable.
I didn’t like to be stern with her. It wasn’t how we did things in our family— mom and dad were the tough ones. Strict enough for both of us.
I was always the cool big brother. Our folks didn’t want Petra to live alone while she went to college in the big, scary city and insisted she come and live with me, an arrangement neither of us minded much.
It was a lot like at home, really. The only reason I was being so strict about the English was because it was my first trip outside of Europe and I was nervous.
I’d been getting English in school since I was about seven, but I still wasn’t confident about being around native speakers.
My experience was limited to tourists visiting Amsterdam for legal cannabis, but I knew they couldn’t all be the same. And that was something I thought was a shame, considering that the majority of my encounters had been generally positive.
I was so nervous about this trip that I almost hoped I wouldn’t even be able to make it, which was ridiculous, considering how much my career could benefit from attending a Summerfest concert in the U.S.
Up until the last minute, my ability to fly had been hanging in balance due to the Covid-19 virus that was making it way again throughout Europe. I thought it ironic that the concert was scheduled so early in the season to celebrate the slow-down of the pandemic and the opening back up again of things in the States, just as the pandemic was ramping up again in Norway.
The governmental authorities were being very strict and requiring people to prove their need to fly, and I wasn’t sure if “performing a weird style of music” qualified as an important reason to them. They seemed on the fence about my application but at the last moment, they said I could go as long as I understood that Norway was gearing up for another lockdown and that I’d therefore have to return home as soon as the concert was over, or even earlier, if orders were issued before then.
I’d agreed and my record label and my friends who own it had been elated. I wished the same thing could be said of me, but I was torn about the decision—happy to have this chance of a lifetime, yet fucking scared to actually take it, because it all felt so, well, foreign to me, a creature of habit who was comfortable where I was.
Now, I told myself that growth was necessary, and that growth involved change, so that I could focus on the task at hand and get this suitcase packed.
Taking the suitcase at either side, Petra flipped it over, dumping the contents out onto the bed.
“This isn’t right,” she said, assessing the scattered mess in record time.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“There’s too much, and very little of it is essential.”
Petra could be terse when she was focused, but I still appreciated her help.
Standing back while she did her thing, I watched in mild awe as Petra completely re-arranged what I’d packed, removing what wasn’t needed, getting other things that were, and then finally, doing up the zipper like a punctuation mark at the end of a long sentence.
“There you go.”
“Thanks,” I said, giving my baby sister a light, brotherly hug.
“No problem.”
She’d said that in Dutch, but I decided to let it go.
There would be plenty of chances to practice once I got stateside.
I was probably just being paranoid, anyway. There’d never been a problem with my English before, but I just wanted things to go well with my first international gig.
The invite had come out of the blue from my buddy Varg. His band, Loki’s Laugh, had been tapped to play at a major summer celebration over in the United States. We’d played some gigs in the early days, and he’d gotten their record label, Suspicious Activity, to sign me on and book me as an opening act for their most recent European tour.
