Nashville part one

After a ten hour flight to Charlotte, North Carolina from London, I realised that we were in America. Strangers looked me in the eye and asked how I was. Strangely, even though it was a connecting flight to Nashville, we had to collect our hold luggage and re-do the whole malarky of checking it in AGAIN to put on another plane. Because I'm a pain, I brought four things onto the plane when most sane people only have two. Two of these were my trusty accordion, which wheezes with tired enthusiasm every time I put it back together after another spot of running maintenance, and my trombone which is too good lookin' to leave in the UK.
Unfortunately my trombone had to surface from being in the hold and then go back down into the murky depths of another plane, but it had to be taken to a special 'valet' for that to happen. So while the friendly US Border control grilled Mr Drums and Mr Bass until they're crusty, I decided it was a good idea to wander off on my own and check in the trombone.
We only had an hour and a half between flights, and with twenty minutes to go before take off, I was getting slightly worried that I was still the only member of Tankus the Henge at the gate, and no amount of friendly Americans was putting my mind at ease. In fact I think they were probably stressing me out just a bit. Charlotte airport to Nashville is still too far to walk. I thought it was best if I did get on the plane anyway, but at the last minute, hats and instruments came lolloping up the corridor, and after querying the flight hostess (a man, I think) about some liquid showering out of the fuel tank, a big man with a beard and brylcream came to cable-tie the plane back together and push the dripstick back into the fuel tank (yes... honestly!) and the leak stopped. After that, off we went, and here we are, in Nashville, Tennessee.
It's a lovely day!