By Norm Richards
I read the other day that bedbugs are the new problem. I don't think so. They have always been around. They're pre-historic, I swear. Part of this story was about getting increased hits on the subject of bedbugs on marketing web sites. This story reminded me of my own rub with the bedbug. Perhaps touring musicians are more susceptible to bedbug problems. We spend more time in old hotels then most people while being on the road. I gave up renting an apartment since it was an unneeded expense once I went on the road. I became somewhat rootless. I took a room where we played if the establishment we were hired by paid for it or not. I enjoyed the freedom that went with travel and the feeling of not beholding to anyone. It was kind of free spirited to do this.
While on the road, one night after playing, I checked in like a hooker buying a two dollar room. I hit the pillow hard. I was suddenly awakened less than an hour into a deep sleep. I sprang out of bed and threw on the lights in search of what hit me. My skin was crawling and something bit my ass. When I looked down where the shape of my body formed an outline in the sheets I noticed these little red bugs. I was so disturbed I washed and left the hotel in the middle of the night. I walked along in the dark with my small suitcase in hand. I ended up at a local dinner to contemplate the rest of my day. This sobering experience had me booking better hotels thereafter and even then I checked under the covers before turning in. You never know.