"We're Not Gangbangers."

I found myself in a part of Chicago (south & west) that I've never been before. Considering I was born and raised in and on the outskirts of the big city, I guess that's kind of unusual. There are parts of the city someone like me should not be. Any one who lives in a big city knows this fact. It's essential to survival. I mean, there are certain territories where I should not venture. And well, because I wasn't really thinking, (except about meeting up with our bass player - she was house-sitting, for a music session) I trekked to the "land I shouldn't go to" via a series of trains (purple, red, blue, pink).

I was fine on the train. I mean, it is a great leveller, anyone with $2.00 can get on, and well, there were people talking to nothing, and drug fiends and heavy duty characters...one guy was rapping about "bad weed," and well, it's all part of the city life. But once I was on the street, lugging my acoustic guitar, I was a target, a target with a big sign above me "this dude is fucking clueless!" I was no longer fine.

I got to an intersection and a big silver van pulls up, two latinos, (wife beater shirts, gold chains, tatoos, over-sized biceps) and they shout at me, "Hey you with the guitar...we want to talk to you." I kept moving, my heart kind of skipping a beat, and I realized I had stepped into a nice little hot zone. "No, I'm late for a jam." They kind of laughed at me, and they start backing up the van (it's a one way street) and they're now backing up the wrong way to kind of cut me off at the pass. I booked as fast as I could. I mean, maybe they wanted to talk to me about open tuning, and the figerstyle techniques I like to use, but for some reason I just didn't want to stick around to find out! I hear them yell as I retreat: "We're not GANGBANGERS!"

Then they floor the van and race around the block. I high-tail it, as fast as I can to the door of the house I'm going to. It's in a nice little neighborhood (okay it's broken down, but families are here), but obviously, this is someone's turf, and well, I'm not really from here, not welcome here, and shit, what the fuck was I thinking?!

Anyway, I got to the doorway, (saftey) before the van made the long circle around the block, and after I get inside, I kind of catch my breath, I swallow that raw fear that is shooting right through me, and well somehow, the bass player and I have a nice little session playing music, getting ready for our gig at Freak Fest. Later, summoning my courage (or wait, is it just stupidity?!), under the cover of darkness I make it back to the train without incident. An hour later, I arrived back home safe and sound....

There are some parts of town I should not go to...I get it...fuck!