The Bobby Rock Newsletter #118 (7-12-25) - Checking In From the Czech Republic
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Hey Everyone -
The Lita Ford gang and I are currently in the middle of our second of three trips to Europe this summer, with this next run coming up in about 10 days or so. This trip has been challenging, at least for me, which I'll briefly get into in a moment. But as always, it's a joy and a privilege to still be out here—on the eve of my 62nd birthday—hitting the drums around the globe, with new sights, sounds, and situations continuously unfolding around every corner. Wouldn't have it any other way!
Thanks as always for being here, everybody. Let's dive right into it...
In This Issue:
Still "Living the Dream:" 46 total hours of travel for one 75-minute set in the Czech Republic? I'm in!
Celebrating Five Years of Consecutive Daily Meditation: You guys know how I love those streaks, anniversaries, and remembrances. Here's another... and the timing was interesting!
More Euro Tour Dates: See 'em here.
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Checking In From the Czech Republic
We just played the Masters of Rock festival in the Czech Republic last night, and it was all kinds of fun. I believe we were the second-to-the-last band to play, in direct support of that singer guy from Rammstein... Lindemann? (Sorry... not real familiar with their music or history.) And just as we launched into our grand finale tune—"Kiss Me Deadly"—around 10:00 PM... as if on cue, the rain started pouring down. It was quite a moment.
Here's a quick stage shot I grabbed just prior to the band going on before us:
During the set, in the middle of "Can't Catch Me"—just before my drum solo—I saw my tech, Chip, heading toward me with a snare drum in his hands. Did I break mine and not know it? Nope. He simply held up the drum and delivered a message for me:
Believe me, this is not the typical message I get. In fact, it's sometimes the opposite if we have a shorter set under tight time constraints. But last night, as we were juggling the set list just prior to hitting the stage a bit late, our stage manager, Jarod, was doing the arithmetic as we were playing and figured we had a few extra minutes to burn so we could end on time. Thus, the message was delivered... and happily received. No problemo!
After the set, we gathered for a quick shot with the kick-ass crowd. These Euro festival audiences are always a joy to play for:
Mission accomplished, and all turned out favorably. But I had mentioned there was some difficulty on this run. So if you will indulge me for a moment, I will encapsulate the situation briefly as we set the table for our next section:
An Unfortunate Turn of Events
This trip was an isolated one-show run, meaning we would travel across the pond for this one hit, then head back home. Nonsensical? Sure. But it happens. Sometimes anchor dates are booked and contracted with the intention of booking other shows around them, but logistics, finances, and/or scheduling can conspire against us and... well, we still have a contracted date to go play!
For me, this excursion would involve first flying into DC, but getting held up on the tarmac for an hour-plus until a lighting storm cleared. This put me in a rush to catch my connection to Frankfurt, which I was able to to make. But once on board, it was another couple hours on the tarmac due to the ensuing back-up of flights... which put me into Frankfurt super late and in a mad scramble through customs to catch my third flight to Vienna. For this one, I actually reached the gate after it had closed, but the attendant took mercy on my soul, reissued my seat (since it automatically cancelled when the gate closed), and let my sorry ass onto the plane.
Once we hit Vienna, I met up with the rest of the band and crew (nine total in our party) to collect our luggage and make the 3 to 4-hour drive to a remote part of the Czech Republic. However... my bag didn't make it. Yes, friends... my big-ass bag, with multiple changes of clothes for workouts and runs, stage gear, practice pad and sticks, all kinds of vegan food, a blender, Dragon Dirt smoothie mix... essentially, my whole world, as it were... MIA. I mean, this heavy, road-worn piece of luggage is such a staple in the Lita Ford tour lexicon, "he" has his own name: Big Blue. And once the conveyor belt stopped and Jarod was able to confirm the bag was lost, I checked my Apple Air Tag app to see that, sure enough, Big Blue was still in fucking Washington DC! Good God.
So listen... I'll spare you guys any further details here about the next 24 hours, where I struggled mightily, if I'm being honest. I mean, this is my work and I'm accustomed to engaging a number of food, training, and practice protocols in specific ways, at specific times. And now, all that went out the window and I was fucking aggravated.
Which leads us into the poignant irony, and conclusion, of it all...
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Celebrating Five Years of Consecutive Daily Meditation
As many of you following along may know, I'm currently in the middle of a daily meditation streak, via the Calm app. 365 days x 5 = 1825... hence the five-year benchmark, which I just hit on Friday, July 11th. I've written extensively about key aspects of this journey thus far, and continue to feel like maintaining such a streak is worth the effort and attention... even though some days it feels more like I'm sitting through a quick meditation solely to maintain the streak! After all, the journey to mastery of anything, in my experience, is always about consistently showing up, whether you feel like it or not, or whether a particular session is fruitful or not. Some days they won't be, I can promise you that. This applies to practicing drums, lifting weights, running, and especially writing. But we keep our heads down and continue, long after many around us have stopped. Why? Because it's one of the only ways to evolve large... to truly become better versions of ourselves. Just shut the fuck up and do the work. Relentlessly. Endlessly.
And this is why I made you guys sit through the story about Big Blue getting lost. I was painfully aware that, while I was despondent over the loss of my bag and the severe disruption to all normal grinding protocols, it was the eve of my five-year meditation streak. And initially, this became a source of searing self-flagellation... like, What the fuck is wrong with you? 1825 days of meditation and you can't roll with the punches and move on from a lost bag? It was perplexing to me. Hadn't I gotten anything out of these countless sessions? I mean, anyone can be the "Zen Man" (or woman) when everything's going as planned. But what about when shit flies off the rails a bit. Am I really going to cave like this?
Well, by the next morning, I carried on. I grabbed 2 pairs of my regular drumsticks and taped them together, so I could have a reasonable facsimile of my missing weighted pair and practice on the mattress. I went to the gym and worked out in my street clothes, then washed my shirt, socks, and underwear in the sink (and dried them with the hotel hair dryer), just like the good old days of motel room club touring! I found a grocery store to get some general supplies, and hit a sporting goods place to get some basic clothing—everything in black, of course—in case my bag didn't show up by 6:30 PM when we had to leave for the gig. And, of course, I monitored my Apple Air Tag app closely, following Big Blues' journey back to the hotel, as precious time quickly ticked away. It was looking bleak.
And then... at 6:21 PM... Big Blue was returned to the hotel lobby by a delivery service, and there was an emotional reunion, documented by our TM for the weekend, Lisa Perry:
The Takeaway
As Big Blue was delivered on the actual meditation anniversary, here's what I came up with: I feel like I did handle it better than I would've had I not been "weightlifting for the mind," strengthening my brain, and being able to control my emotions, due largely to the meditation practice. While I really felt it internally, and I'm sure those around me knew I was upset as it first went down, I never got pissed, raised my voice, took it out on anyone, or bitched and moaned too much. And while I was initially put off by the fact that I felt that upset by it, what I realized is, I never gave myself permission to just sit quietly and seethe for a quick spell... to let the emotion slowly pass like the dark clouds of a storm. As stupid as it might sound, I feel like I just needed a little bit of "grieving" time to assimilate what had happened. But instead, I was berating myself for being upset in the first place.
So, note to self and my fellow soul-travelers here: it's OK to feel anger, sadness, and all of the other unpopular emotions. (All the great masters have reassured us of this.) But the real work, I think, is to remain in control of how or if we express those emotions, outwardly, to others. And on that note, I think I did OK. I will now know in the future to give myself a little window to feel this shit before I go back to trying to be the Zen Man.
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For a bit more on the detailed particulars of this meditation journey, scope out this blog post from the BR website. I believe it starts from the one-year mark of the streak and has a couple addendums along the way, including the 1000-day mark. I'll probably add to it at some point, but it's pretty comprehensive as is:
Here are a few upcoming dates for our friends in Europe:
--------------------
Wednesday, Jul 23rd
KK's Steel Mill w/Vixen
Wolverhamption, England --------------------
Thursday, Jul 24th
The O2 w/Vixen
London, England
-------------------- Saturday, Jul 26th
Steelhouse Festival
Ebbw Vale, Wales
-------------------- Wednesday, Jul 30th
Wacken Open Air
Wacken, Germany -------------------- Friday, Aug 1st
Notodden Blues Festival
Notodden, Norway
-------------------- Saturday, Aug 2nd
Skogsröjet Festival
Rejmyre, Sweden -------------------- Sunday, Aug 3rd
Parksnackan
Uppsala, Sweden --------------------
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Thanks again, everybody. Connect soon!
Until then,
BR
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