I learn for Kennett, Missouri a little more with each passing day. I find myself trying to talk my wife into moving back to my hometown in about every other conversation we share. Playing so many county fairs this summer, has forced me to reflect on my time growing up. I can vividly remember the excitement over catfish sandwiches, or the taffy that you tried to stock up on to last throughout the entire year, and yet it simply lasted until the end of the month. I was so ready to leave that little town. It would simply hold me down, and keep me from even remotely touching my potential. I’ve stayed in the finest hotels, drank expensive wines and tasted the most famous foods from some of the country’s most revered restaurants. Yet it’s the simple things like McCormick’s Steakhouse after Sunday service, pulling out your best Polo shirt for Friday night’s game against Senath-Hornersville, or the Hayti and Dexter cheerleaders every Bloomfield Christmas Tournament, that nearly bring a tear to my eyes here high above the clouds. I love my hometown. I love being from Missouri. One of my favorite moments every night on stage is introducing my band, and speaking of where I was born and raised. I assume most people feel the same, whether they care to admit, or even currently realize it, but I think the emotion and pride I feel is superior to most. I say this not trying to offend, but simply trying to describe the depths of my love.
I suppose these are both attempts to explain my affair with the lyrics of “Turning Home”. I sincerely believe it’s not a town or city thing. It’s a life thing. It’s yearning for those things that played a huge role in who you are today. Good or bad, right or wrong, it’s a simple fact that our pasts play a huge role in how we live each and every day. I’m in a good place in my life these days, and there are most likely more than a few reasons why, but I think the one most evident here in the sky, is that I get to sing this song almost every night. I get to close my eyes and go back to my parent’s house, or riding my bike a little further down the street than I knew I was allowed. It takes me back to one of the five or six times I’ve walked the streets of Chicago in simple awe of its size and energy. So many memories, so many songs, so many towns and cities, but certain ones stand above the rest. Chicago, Illinois is one, Kennett, Missouri is one, and Turning Home definitely is one!