It has been with me for such a long time I feel like it is a part of me.  Friends bought it many years ago and although I have often been a hard man to buy a gift for, they got this one completely right.  It looked like an old military fatigue jacket, but it was not made for the military…more likely it was knocked together by some high street menswear department store gunning for the trendy macho type and, if that was the case they had missed their mark when it found me.   It was, of course, green and had both zipper and stud fastenings just so you could always be sure that you would be sheltered from the elements.  Inside it had a drawstring so you could pull the waist tight to stop wind blowing up and around you.  It looked every inch an action garment, except for few flaws. First of all, it wasn’t waterproof and secondly it was made of light material and therefore was not very warm in icy winds. 
          In spite of these flaws I instantly loved the jacket, and in fact it’s flaws made it perfect for my purposes.  It offered enough shelter to me in most cases, but this jacket was light, very light, and it had a lot of pockets…something that any traveller will know, can only be useful.   The garment also showed amazing resilience.  I have stuffed it full of books, cd’s, DVD’s music players, phones, chargers, coins, candy, gifts and a myriad of other objects. Never once has a pocket seam ripped or torn in spite of the abuse.  I have worn it in monsoon rains, sub zero conditions and scorching heat and it has done it’s job well as another layer in the cold, or as a sun and wind screen in the heat…and those pockets still held out. Carrying the things I needed close to me…they never gave up yet.
          It has been soaked, scorched, stained and damaged yet it keeps on holding itself together and doing its job. I had to take a knife to it twice…just to cut off some bits that were busted, loose threads that were dragging, so it has its scars.  It is a little tattered around the cuffs now, little grazes and pulls in the cloth show it’s battles against thorns and nails and if I am honest it is showing its age a little more these days.
          This one piece of clothing reminds me of places and times, of scars and wounds, of getting a little bit more worn out but still holding it together enough to have the things I need close to me.  It is like a good friend, the one who helped cut the broken bits away from me, help take a knife to the bits that were dragging me down…you know who you are and I am deeply indebted to you.
          It has come on every tour with me for over 12 years now. It has seen everything I have seen and never once let me down.  For years I looked for a new one, but never found one that could travel lightly with me…one who knew just how much to carry…one who would survive the rigors of the road and could still do what it was made for even after the damage.  That is rare.  
          This year I did something I have never done before on solo tour…..I just never could.  I left my jacket in one place while I went on tour…it was symbolic for me.  I left it with one I trusted to care for it and not throw it away as a rag.  I returned to it and it flew away with me, but I knew something new…there is a new garment for me to wear….if I wear it lightly it will travel well with me.  It may sustain some road damage, but I think it will keep all the things I need close to me.
          I love this old worn and damaged thing…in spite of it’s limitations it had been a good and faithful servant and owes me nothing…I will keep it for sure…but sometimes you just need to be aware that the new thing has it’s time…and letting the old thing go allows room…. the new thing has scars and marks, it has weathered storms and tempests…if I have loved my old green jacket surly I can love this now…
The kind of man I am makes me want the thing that does the job…..i am never put off by a few scars…especially the ones worth talking about……..

Since I was 16 years old I have had one thing in my life that has been constant...an odd need to keep going, keep moving...keep travelling. My early years in Ireland were both troubled and dangerous, but as soon as I picked up a bass guitar from a bomb damaged music store in Belfast, the desire to go play the thing griped me. With the whole band packed into one car and a U Haul trailer for PA and backline, my travels began...mostly around Ireland, with occasional trips 'abroad' to England and Scotland.
          Within 5 years I had moved to Scotland, joined a new band and played around the country with men and women who were to become my lifelong friends. In Scotland in 88, I formed The Electrics with guitarist Paul Baird and within months we were playing in France and Portugal. The record deals came, and with them more travel. Germany, Holland, Switzerland, Finland, Norway, Channel Islands, Poland and the USA. Major festivals across the USA and Europe became our stomping grounds and our blend of Celtic Rock pleased the crowds everywhere we went. Beyond this a solo career took me further away. Long 12 week tours of the USA, Canada, Thailand and Australia became the norm. I found myself in places most of you will never see or visit. Wild places and dangerous places, calm places and loud places. 
          Today I sit in a large building in Canada. A place that I have agreed to spend about 9 months a year running multimedia events for young people. Art and music has delivered me to a new place that offered new challenges to my mind, body and spirit...yet within a day of being here I have been invited to head off to other places that I have never seen… perhaps Africa and South Africa wait for me in the coming 12 months... it seems to be the way of it… what I am built for and although I get weary, I never tire of the journey.
          Journey to the ancient Celts was a metaphor for life… travelling… moving on... don’t carry too much...rest at times always believing one destination is just a resting place until the next. I have learned much from these wise old saints. The journey is necessary, but for all the beauty and wildness and excitement, there is a cost. It is true that the traveler meets interesting and unusual people, but more often than not they are pleasant acquaintances, not close friends. The traveler never needs to deal with the trials of the long term relationship, because, for the most part they simply move on. The wanderer sees the world as a varied and complicated place, but rarely does he spend enough time in one place to actually have to deal with the difficulties. The drifter has beautiful insights into life and the greater world, a romantic spirit surrounds all he says, but a man who never stays still, misses much of what is right in front of him… because for him… it is easier to say goodbye than it is to say I am staying put.
          I have decided to stay put for a while, I am nervous about it, I like the look of that highway out there, but in the strangest of ways, even this decision has been met initially with 'will you go?' and 'We know you need to travel'... it is as if that greatest of Spirits is holding me... giving the best of both worlds. As if someone up there likes me, as if the one who cares for my soul has reminded me he cares for my body and my mind... for this old hobo singer, this flawed and broken one, this poor soul, it is good to know someone cares completely... and that should give you some hope too...for I am no more special than you are. 
          So, travel well, rest well, don’t carry heavy loads for too long and from time to time, if you are able, look skyward and whisper something like 'thanks for caring'


Peace
Sammy.