Clapton_ The Autobiography - Eric Clapton [154]
At the end of every leg of the tour so far, we had all agreed that it had been perhaps a week too long. In the case of this last leg, it was more like two weeks. The weather had got colder, the hotels were getting noisier, and I was running out of stamina. The amount of planning and day-to-day strategy involved in ensuring that I had enough energy for the gig in the evening was getting ridiculous. At this stage it was absolutely necessary for me to have an hour’s nap in the afternoon, and in order to get that hour, I had to create a three-hour vacuum—not as easy as it might seem. We were also now traveling on show days a lot, and that was wearing me out. In short, it was getting really tough. Another aspect that had stretched all of us was that Derek Trucks had to leave the tour to fulfill a prior commitment with the Allman Brothers halfway through this leg. We all knew this was coming, and there was nothing we could do about it, but it was hard to watch him go. It had been a great journey playing with him throughout the year, and had altered and influenced the way we all played together. Thank goodness his absence was not as problematic musically as I had thought it would be. In fact, Doyle and I really enjoyed playing more directly with each other. But in terms of pure energy, it was draining me unbelievably, and seemed to add more weight to the lead I felt in my legs.
In Canada, I got to see my half sister Cheryl and her family. We don’t see much of each other, and I felt poorly equipped to socialize, plus we were moving on right after the show, so time was short. It had been the same for my other half sister, Heather, in Toronto the year before, and I realized that times have changed. In the old days I would have made time to visit with them the day before or the day after the show, but now I was having to rest every chance I got. By the time we got to Fargo, North Dakota, on my birthday, I was exhausted, and had had enough, but Melia and the girls came to visit, and that did a lot to restore my equilibrium. We had a big party before the gig, and I got some wonderful presents from the band and crew. I found it really moving to have everyone in the same room together, and when I tried to speak to say thank you, I started choking up. I really believe that this crew of techs and managers, from the riggers to the computer boffins, are the best in the business. They have been with me forever, and I rarely give them enough credit. Funnily enough, the only present I can remember getting was a pair of ghastly pink Crocs (rubber sandals with holes) that Michele and Sharon had given me. Thanks for the memory, girls.
The last week was a nightmare. I was getting only about three hours of sleep a night, and in Kansas City, over the course of a three-day visit, I changed hotels four times. The noise was unbelievable. There was either construction outside, roaring elevator shafts inside, or people throwing things around their rooms. I was shattered. The only thing that made it bearable was the music we would make in the evening, which was always brilliant. Even so, I was praying for the tour to finish, and counting the minutes. By the end, however, every gig was memorable. The only thing that could rattle us, or me in particular, was bad acoustics, and it seemed we had left those places behind us. Luckily, the last show, in Columbus, was a great one. It needed to be, as my entire American family was there.
Brief good-byes were said, but we knew that, apart from Steve Jordan, we would all be together again in Chicago in July at the next Crossroads Guitar Festival. As for Jordan, I was going to see him in a couple of weeks at a tribute evening in memory of Ahmet Ertegun, which was to take place in New York, and of which he would be the musical director. It was still snowing in Columbus,