The Lost Horizon: Hidden Track

It was serendipitous that Frank Turner mentioned Syracuse-area hardcore band Earth Crisis, how he talked about seeing them in concert, enjoying them, and it was alluded that the band inspired him in a sense.

When it comes to anything — negative or positive — the resonating impact is life altering in some way, shape or form.

“Lift”

The Brit-only show — save Michael, the bassist for Skinny Lister, hailing from The States — really brought back fond memories of my trip to England in 2007.

Before I continue: Thank you Michael, for liking my tweet that toted my last post. Second: How the hell did you crowd surf with that upright bass? The ceiling is so damn low. Hey, practice makes perfect? (See, people: You missed a show.)

Aside Lister’s Dan Heptinstall’s embodying very Joe Strummer-esque qualities — the sound of his vocal work — and my adoration of English punk, Turner’s mentioning Earth Crisis was that cognitive cue that brought me back to the short ride on a lift.

While in the floor-to-floor moving vessel, and this was my second day in England, a fellow was wearing an Earth Crisis T-shirt. I didn’t say anything to him for a couple reasons:

  1. I didn’t want to be “that guy” who excitedly runs up to a complete stranger and brings up Syracuse, NY.
  2. Some moments are meant to simply revel in.

The trip to England was my first time abroad. It was done well: I went with and spent time with friends. I met new people. The country was welcoming and the people were friendly. And getting my in-person dose of the humour was absolutely gratifying. (And why don’t we use “ou” in our words? It’s more elegant that way.)

Seeing that Earth Crisis shirt was a sign: I was supposed to be there. Travel is supposed to be.

England gave me literary and cultural boners satisfaction that was more than bargained for. You can put a price on a plane ticket, but it’s worth it. The country proved that actual dreams can literally come true; placed dreamed about are experienced in reality. Despite being a city, there was a lot that made me feel relaxed.

The travel bug never leaves.

In two years, my passport is up, expired. When I get it renewed, I’d be great to revisit England again for old time’s sake — a 10-year anniversary of new adventure. There are other countries on my list, so it could be a multi-country, European-wide trip. It’d be better that way. As long as I get to see my Italian cousin, who is currently residing there, it’d be a fruitful trip.

Prague is on there, and that would complete the trifecta that is my “Nationality Bucket List.” I was able to talk about this aspiration, this travel in New York. The setting was a Cuban restaurant. The discussion was with a playwright.

On that note: This is where I bid adieu to CNY-related posts for a moment to continue the “New York Stories.”

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