Humble Moments Studio

I remember the van pulling up outside my apartment in Westbrook. A white Ford passenger van — one row of seats pulled out to make room for seven people and whatever comfort you could carve out between cities. My wife came outside to meet the band — She shook hands, said hello, and waved me off with a smile while I loaded my gear and climbed in. We texted and called the whole trip. Every city. Every show. Every long drive through the night. Tours look glamorous from the outside. They are not. The