Pet peeve. Right, like I'm going to be responsible for feeding and caring for a peeve; take it for walks, send it to school to learn to shut up and not be a nuisance, etc.
That being said, I find it highly annoying when comedy and variety shows invite politicians on for fun, phony, self serving banter. The government holds the power over broadcasters so they have to kiss ass. Obama wants on the show, OK. Makes them feel safe with fcc and all that, while the pres gets to push his party and campaign for whatever bs he's peddling today.
Same goes for all of them. Huckabee, you name it. Stay off of regular programs. If it isn't designed for the thug, bully, political class, then the thug bullies ought to stay off the show. Who is going to refuse and want the wrath of the IRS or whatever to come bother them? It is extorted publicity in a way.
It is also cronyism. They've been doing it for awhile with increasing regularity and boldness. Such bull. But it works. Dolts and dumbasses, who have that inborn affinity for royalty will watch and say, "See? They're just regular people like us. Just a little smarter and better dressed. But he wakes up every day asking himself, 'How can I make the lives of the wretched little people better today'. Yep, he's got my vote."
I do not like authority any more now than I did when I was a kid. Less than I did then, actually. They told me my views would change the opposite direction. In some ways, though, I have more empathy and less judgement. I judge philosophy and ideas more than make judgements on personal matters that have no effect on me.
Maybe they aren't dumbasses. Maybe they just either hate people or they enjoy the dynamics of cults of personality so much that they will suspend disbelief and adherence to reality as much as it takes to keep the king in place and looking good. Make excuses, don't demand accountability. Hating the "haters" can become addictive so it is important to create events to bring out the battle. I think people just do not grasp the idea that being owned is not how it ought to be.
They are perfectly willing to put the state on the title in exchange for some financial perks and 3rd world quality medical care. Sometimes better. But if you are 100% on the state's dime, the insurance is like playing Russian Roulette. Primary care then referrals then bs.
Some people do OK and some probably give up or fall through the cracks.
If I'd had that sort of thing, I bet I'd have given up on them.
Anyway, be careful because you have no idea what is at play with strangers, and often, with friends. Ever look around while driving on the freeway and hope those people are not feeling as wiped out and restless as you are? I do. I think "this is no fun. Feeling low." Then I think "satay awake and alert so you can get home. You can do this." Fighting the sudden wave of sleepy exhaustion. Almost dozed at stop lights and even driving.
Cannot let that happen. I don't care who you are, if you sleep drive you are screwed. Few things are more guaranteed to queer the deal.
Friday, March 13, 2015
Roughing It In No Part Harmony
Arachnophobia is a fear of either spiders or archeologists, I'm pretty sure. No need to look it up. I am probably right. I like to remain as in touch and informed as our Dear Leaders.
I know all I need to know about events in states many miles away. Trayvon in Florida? Uh huh, mmm, hmmm, we know what's what. No need to be there to know how it goes down.
Same with Ferguson and any other situation in which bestowing victimhood, deserved or not, upon a person or group simply for a predetermined condition of birth, can further one's popularity, career, and get votes. Creating enemies of "the people", condoning violent mobs and calling them peaceful demonstrators, or even protestors, is a crafty power maneuver which uses any lie that will work.
What would be a fear of one's own nerves, for whatever reason, attacking one at the exact wrong time; like during gig time. I did have that happen right before the Ramona gig, months ago. My first outing with Enter the Blue Sky. I had to hunker over someone's icy Toyota Sienna A/C for about 45 minutes, with fan running full blast. It mitigated the discomfort and finally the episode passed. It felt like the wave of relief when a migraine leaves.
It wasn't in any memos I can find, but I thought the attacks had become permanently more subdued. I was mistaken.
Last night it came on during a drive to town. By the time I was driving home I had to scrunch over just to deal with it. I could not wait for the full hot water shower. That took awhile and I have a fear of it happening again.
Perhaps there is a name for it. I am trying to think of something that would fit. Pruritiocarcinophobic. Also can be interpreted to include a fear of pilgrims. There is a longer name for fear of pilgrim dolls and for pilgrim clowns.
I think you saw about as many pilgrim clowns on the Mayflower as there are jihadists clowns with water squirting flowers in a mosque, pbuh. Oh I guess mosque can be said without pbuh. That is only when matters of profit, pbuh, come into the act. Gross minus net, pbuh.
Sunday at Navajo live. Big stage, lights, etc. Nice sound set up. But their sound dudes, so far, appear to not only be deaf, but dumb, and not in the sense of inability to speak. In the sense of making everything at least twice as loud as it should be, and spreading the balance between instruments in a random and unpleasant fashion. Warren and I may force him to show us our channels, then educate him on what to do.
The last guy was a bit arrogant. Guitar player of some kind. Diseased, so he can't fathom the fact that he does not know it all, and that the object of the effort is a nice blend; classy instruments with vocal on top. Not an assault upon listeners, passers by, and humanity in general.
It is not that damned hard. I'm often astounded by the sheer size of their bubble of obliviousness.
Then Monday, it is Hard Rock. Our own sound stuff for that. And that is not always good. Often when playing out our PA has feedback issues and is not putting her on top, much of the time. Yet in practice it is fine.
Different configuration of people placement when we are out must influence the PA performance.
Wait a minute, maybe Hard Rock is one with their own sound system. They have nice people so we may get it right there.
We had to get a portable air conditioner at work. Only one in town, and I found it. Who knew Home depot and the rest thought San Diego had seasons? They won't stock the portable a/c for another couple of weeks.
It is hot now. I'm thinking it will end up in my house before too long. It is becoming a health necessity to stave off much discomfort. Heat and humidity are the real culprits.
I've seen posts on the aquagenic pruritus forum from people who have had the condition for over a decade. Some do not have blood issues. Some do. But ten or fifteen years? And they have twenty minutes or so of madness after every shower. I'm not sure all of them have tried the near-scalding shower trick. It is so counter-intuitive that I may have not considered it on my own. I read about the hot shower solution, and the theory of why it would work, both in the same forum post.
The theory on the forum coincides with what all the dermatologists concluded, though few, if any, of them had heard of this trick. We think it causes the mast cells, which release histamines, to deplete themselves while the hot water numbs the area being affected by the histamines. So it runs its course under the hot water stream. Getting it hot enough is the trick.
Seriously, that trick is useful for people who may need it. It has saved me untold hours of near agony. When sweating or getting on the verge of it cause intractable itching, and humidity increase can also set it off, something is not working right. At least in my case I know it is a by product of some iffy hydraulic fluid. If a car was built by the same people who brought you humans, there would only be one fluid used for everything.
That is how blood is. It is hydraulic fluid for the fun stuff, and like a fuel carrier, O2, for other stuff. It's one of those items in the inventory of the garden variety human body which would leave a noticeable void were it to be removed.
On nights like this, I wonder how I can possibly manage to make all the gigs and do well. I think it is important to set that as a goal. Even if I feel out of it and not remembering to do the right things at the right times. I have a long way to go before it is riddled with wrong notes and such. But there is a difference in ad libbing accents and such, and working out what seems the best direction which works to be a consistent arrangement. We do that, but I can forget, lately.
I've had people describe symptoms similar to these attacks as a side effect of chemo. Something wrong with that approach, and really wrong that the art of targeting and destroying the enemy without killing our friends or ourselves has not advanced further than it has. I knew a guy who was into such research and developed equipment to help. He suggested the corporate-government-charity-pharmaceutical complex was corrupt, despicable and far more in love with treatment than cure, and only treatment that costs big money. I tend to agree. You kill the whole damned village to get rid of a street gang? That is no good.
Oh, we did pass that audition so we'll be playing the Coyote festival at a local college on May 2. Outdoor, afternoon thing. I rarely ask for much, but I do want to be able to handle these shows without the need to run off for a scalding shower or stand under a very cold blast from freezers or a/c.
Think positive, but don't expect that to do anything but keep you working on tricks to make it happen.
amen
.
I know all I need to know about events in states many miles away. Trayvon in Florida? Uh huh, mmm, hmmm, we know what's what. No need to be there to know how it goes down.
Same with Ferguson and any other situation in which bestowing victimhood, deserved or not, upon a person or group simply for a predetermined condition of birth, can further one's popularity, career, and get votes. Creating enemies of "the people", condoning violent mobs and calling them peaceful demonstrators, or even protestors, is a crafty power maneuver which uses any lie that will work.
What would be a fear of one's own nerves, for whatever reason, attacking one at the exact wrong time; like during gig time. I did have that happen right before the Ramona gig, months ago. My first outing with Enter the Blue Sky. I had to hunker over someone's icy Toyota Sienna A/C for about 45 minutes, with fan running full blast. It mitigated the discomfort and finally the episode passed. It felt like the wave of relief when a migraine leaves.
It wasn't in any memos I can find, but I thought the attacks had become permanently more subdued. I was mistaken.
Last night it came on during a drive to town. By the time I was driving home I had to scrunch over just to deal with it. I could not wait for the full hot water shower. That took awhile and I have a fear of it happening again.
Perhaps there is a name for it. I am trying to think of something that would fit. Pruritiocarcinophobic. Also can be interpreted to include a fear of pilgrims. There is a longer name for fear of pilgrim dolls and for pilgrim clowns.
I think you saw about as many pilgrim clowns on the Mayflower as there are jihadists clowns with water squirting flowers in a mosque, pbuh. Oh I guess mosque can be said without pbuh. That is only when matters of profit, pbuh, come into the act. Gross minus net, pbuh.
Sunday at Navajo live. Big stage, lights, etc. Nice sound set up. But their sound dudes, so far, appear to not only be deaf, but dumb, and not in the sense of inability to speak. In the sense of making everything at least twice as loud as it should be, and spreading the balance between instruments in a random and unpleasant fashion. Warren and I may force him to show us our channels, then educate him on what to do.
The last guy was a bit arrogant. Guitar player of some kind. Diseased, so he can't fathom the fact that he does not know it all, and that the object of the effort is a nice blend; classy instruments with vocal on top. Not an assault upon listeners, passers by, and humanity in general.
It is not that damned hard. I'm often astounded by the sheer size of their bubble of obliviousness.
Then Monday, it is Hard Rock. Our own sound stuff for that. And that is not always good. Often when playing out our PA has feedback issues and is not putting her on top, much of the time. Yet in practice it is fine.
Different configuration of people placement when we are out must influence the PA performance.
Wait a minute, maybe Hard Rock is one with their own sound system. They have nice people so we may get it right there.
We had to get a portable air conditioner at work. Only one in town, and I found it. Who knew Home depot and the rest thought San Diego had seasons? They won't stock the portable a/c for another couple of weeks.
It is hot now. I'm thinking it will end up in my house before too long. It is becoming a health necessity to stave off much discomfort. Heat and humidity are the real culprits.
I've seen posts on the aquagenic pruritus forum from people who have had the condition for over a decade. Some do not have blood issues. Some do. But ten or fifteen years? And they have twenty minutes or so of madness after every shower. I'm not sure all of them have tried the near-scalding shower trick. It is so counter-intuitive that I may have not considered it on my own. I read about the hot shower solution, and the theory of why it would work, both in the same forum post.
The theory on the forum coincides with what all the dermatologists concluded, though few, if any, of them had heard of this trick. We think it causes the mast cells, which release histamines, to deplete themselves while the hot water numbs the area being affected by the histamines. So it runs its course under the hot water stream. Getting it hot enough is the trick.
Seriously, that trick is useful for people who may need it. It has saved me untold hours of near agony. When sweating or getting on the verge of it cause intractable itching, and humidity increase can also set it off, something is not working right. At least in my case I know it is a by product of some iffy hydraulic fluid. If a car was built by the same people who brought you humans, there would only be one fluid used for everything.
That is how blood is. It is hydraulic fluid for the fun stuff, and like a fuel carrier, O2, for other stuff. It's one of those items in the inventory of the garden variety human body which would leave a noticeable void were it to be removed.
On nights like this, I wonder how I can possibly manage to make all the gigs and do well. I think it is important to set that as a goal. Even if I feel out of it and not remembering to do the right things at the right times. I have a long way to go before it is riddled with wrong notes and such. But there is a difference in ad libbing accents and such, and working out what seems the best direction which works to be a consistent arrangement. We do that, but I can forget, lately.
I've had people describe symptoms similar to these attacks as a side effect of chemo. Something wrong with that approach, and really wrong that the art of targeting and destroying the enemy without killing our friends or ourselves has not advanced further than it has. I knew a guy who was into such research and developed equipment to help. He suggested the corporate-government-charity-pharmaceutical complex was corrupt, despicable and far more in love with treatment than cure, and only treatment that costs big money. I tend to agree. You kill the whole damned village to get rid of a street gang? That is no good.
Oh, we did pass that audition so we'll be playing the Coyote festival at a local college on May 2. Outdoor, afternoon thing. I rarely ask for much, but I do want to be able to handle these shows without the need to run off for a scalding shower or stand under a very cold blast from freezers or a/c.
Think positive, but don't expect that to do anything but keep you working on tricks to make it happen.
amen
.
Thursday, March 12, 2015
The 2:00 A.M. Call
2:00AM seems to be a recurring theme in a couple of Sande songs. Apparently that is when she gets the call that something is amiss; friend arrested or dead, etc.
So, I was slated for a bit of time off from medico land. Then I get a call today. Dracula wants to schedule an appointment sooner by six weeks almost, to discuss the latest imaging and lab results. That kind of sounds like the 2:00 A.M. call. Probably not going to say "yippee, it was a hookworm all along and we can fix it in a jiffy!"
Well if it is for one test, then that means a mutated gene. The other, well, I don't know. That could be a real pain because the cure is possibly not very helpful. I'm not sure if I have to still wait a week or two because that is as soon as he is available or he's out of town or what.
So, let's do our best to avoid letting the imagination run amok between now and the 25th. Not the ides of March. E tu Bucco? I believe best case would be the mutant thing. The other would be highly bone marrow specific, and uglier, so far as I know.
It may yet be a year of blowing through remainder of savings and getting the hang gliding or ultra lite action going. I really want to be a proficient parasail person--easier to transport.
Eeeyikes. What if I have to deal with the psycho lady who holds the information desk and any information contained there hostage? She was trouble.
Maybe I'll end up running a harmonica therapy program for mopey ass doomed people dealing with the same general nature of malady. Of course mine is rarer, since I am picky.
Now I get what most people go through. I have had it so easy in many ways. And I should. I'm not cut out for pointless hardship. Believe it or not some people are. They seek it. And they play martyr on a mission while they do that.
So, I was slated for a bit of time off from medico land. Then I get a call today. Dracula wants to schedule an appointment sooner by six weeks almost, to discuss the latest imaging and lab results. That kind of sounds like the 2:00 A.M. call. Probably not going to say "yippee, it was a hookworm all along and we can fix it in a jiffy!"
Well if it is for one test, then that means a mutated gene. The other, well, I don't know. That could be a real pain because the cure is possibly not very helpful. I'm not sure if I have to still wait a week or two because that is as soon as he is available or he's out of town or what.
So, let's do our best to avoid letting the imagination run amok between now and the 25th. Not the ides of March. E tu Bucco? I believe best case would be the mutant thing. The other would be highly bone marrow specific, and uglier, so far as I know.
It may yet be a year of blowing through remainder of savings and getting the hang gliding or ultra lite action going. I really want to be a proficient parasail person--easier to transport.
Eeeyikes. What if I have to deal with the psycho lady who holds the information desk and any information contained there hostage? She was trouble.
Maybe I'll end up running a harmonica therapy program for mopey ass doomed people dealing with the same general nature of malady. Of course mine is rarer, since I am picky.
Now I get what most people go through. I have had it so easy in many ways. And I should. I'm not cut out for pointless hardship. Believe it or not some people are. They seek it. And they play martyr on a mission while they do that.
Strangest Band Ever; that is a good thing
So, we have this group fronted by a woman old enough to be some people's mother. And some people would be already out of the casa.
And we have a fiddle player of the same age who has intermittent kidney stone issues, then we have me who is even older, and I'm probably dying of some soap opera disease. They always find cool deadly stuff.
The drummer is losing the grip of his hand sometimes, hence plenty of sticks nearby in case he drops one out of the blue. Bass player is younger and non committal.
A very unlikely bunch. But the sound is beginning to shape into what we've been after. And it actually does kick ass, and we actually are developing a following. I am playing a far different style of harmonica than ever before. I'm not sure I've heard exactly this anywhere, any time.
Some compliments are interesting. There are those people who say they hear extra voices when we play, and some of those attribute this to an angel phenomenon of some kind. Makes sense since one or two of us have a foot in the grave.
Another musician around town complained, good naturedly, that Sande had snagged the best musicians for her group, and how did she pull that off. I'll tell you. She has hours of great original music, she is pure energy and we all have fun. Maybe it is keeping me and the drummer from keeling over in our misguided mortality. This is the sort of thing I do best; blend and work with other instruments. That is my pick when there is room.
There are times that the sound gives me chills. Quite unique and remarkable. Distinctive and original and it is working. Capturing it, and learning to make it gel all the time, is not easy, but we are getting to it.
It still amazes me that people ask me to be a part of such projects. I suppose I do have something to offer, to those who can see it, or allow it. You just can't play with everyone. Or not do it and feel like it works.
But unlike a lot of people around, we don't put on airs and pretend to be younger, or do that "Oh gosh, aren't we old. "Look at those spunky seniors jamming in slo mo". Whoever started this seniors talk is evil. Ever here those patronizing news stories in news person voices? Barf city. "Are our seniors getting the care they deserve?" Gimme a break.
It seems to interest a wide range of ages. Other than that I refuse to do age or gender studies. I will not that this seems to get the attention of women and that is good.
If I can stay afloat and not queer the deal, this project could take off. I want to drive a tour bus and have adventures. Not likely to happen, but, we have two house of blues gigs, so maybe it is possible. Sande is the new thing. Baby boomers are a large chunk of population and they will dig this stuff. Maybe they can get on to something new and quit with the same Neil Young songs over and over, and pining for the old days, that sort of thing.
I'm always astounded to see the group who gave parents such a bad time, and who screwed the country up when they could, complain about the lack of discipline and common sense among younger generations. It boggles the mind. The generation that set the bar for bratty, phony and hypocritical. What nerve to start in on, "When I was a kid, blablabla..."
Thirty somethings are clueless when it comes to how wealth got created in this country, and the dangers of too much official power, etc., but at living life, and doing it well, they may be the best of all. Less fickle than my peers. And they seem to enjoy life. The know how to do that in ways I do not.
They were still able to get outside some since there was no internet in their early childhood, and the culture was a tad less paranoid. People forget or don't know that violent crimes and threats to children are probably lower now that twenty or thirty years ago. Yet we in effect imprison our youth as if keeping people safe in a cage is kinder and better than letting them risk the hazards of the free range, so to speak.
You want your damned egg producing chickens to be free range and not dosed with antibiotics and hormones, but your kids are monitored 24/7 and dosed with whatever satisfies the school and shuts the little urchin up. Ritalin, cocaine, whatever. Why do people puch for happy chickens but only "safe" children. Overly safe is a complete drag for anyone and not the nature of life, living, passion or motivation.
Of course if you watch the news, listen to Obama type sound bites or crazy ass preacher-politicians long enough, you think you are crazy if you question all the garbage. I'm telling you, the status quo is what is totally off base, insane, and destructive.
Political figures in our age try to have that same mystique a priest might have. They are priests with a gun to your head. People do not stand up to this stuff because they are afraid, insecure, unsure, and suckers for itty bitty bribes in the form of free government things and unearned power over others.
Anyway, this group is not so typical of baby boomers or anyone else except people who can live without the approval of all the pop culture conformity police.
'
And we have a fiddle player of the same age who has intermittent kidney stone issues, then we have me who is even older, and I'm probably dying of some soap opera disease. They always find cool deadly stuff.
The drummer is losing the grip of his hand sometimes, hence plenty of sticks nearby in case he drops one out of the blue. Bass player is younger and non committal.
A very unlikely bunch. But the sound is beginning to shape into what we've been after. And it actually does kick ass, and we actually are developing a following. I am playing a far different style of harmonica than ever before. I'm not sure I've heard exactly this anywhere, any time.
Some compliments are interesting. There are those people who say they hear extra voices when we play, and some of those attribute this to an angel phenomenon of some kind. Makes sense since one or two of us have a foot in the grave.
Another musician around town complained, good naturedly, that Sande had snagged the best musicians for her group, and how did she pull that off. I'll tell you. She has hours of great original music, she is pure energy and we all have fun. Maybe it is keeping me and the drummer from keeling over in our misguided mortality. This is the sort of thing I do best; blend and work with other instruments. That is my pick when there is room.
There are times that the sound gives me chills. Quite unique and remarkable. Distinctive and original and it is working. Capturing it, and learning to make it gel all the time, is not easy, but we are getting to it.
It still amazes me that people ask me to be a part of such projects. I suppose I do have something to offer, to those who can see it, or allow it. You just can't play with everyone. Or not do it and feel like it works.
But unlike a lot of people around, we don't put on airs and pretend to be younger, or do that "Oh gosh, aren't we old. "Look at those spunky seniors jamming in slo mo". Whoever started this seniors talk is evil. Ever here those patronizing news stories in news person voices? Barf city. "Are our seniors getting the care they deserve?" Gimme a break.
It seems to interest a wide range of ages. Other than that I refuse to do age or gender studies. I will not that this seems to get the attention of women and that is good.
If I can stay afloat and not queer the deal, this project could take off. I want to drive a tour bus and have adventures. Not likely to happen, but, we have two house of blues gigs, so maybe it is possible. Sande is the new thing. Baby boomers are a large chunk of population and they will dig this stuff. Maybe they can get on to something new and quit with the same Neil Young songs over and over, and pining for the old days, that sort of thing.
I'm always astounded to see the group who gave parents such a bad time, and who screwed the country up when they could, complain about the lack of discipline and common sense among younger generations. It boggles the mind. The generation that set the bar for bratty, phony and hypocritical. What nerve to start in on, "When I was a kid, blablabla..."
Thirty somethings are clueless when it comes to how wealth got created in this country, and the dangers of too much official power, etc., but at living life, and doing it well, they may be the best of all. Less fickle than my peers. And they seem to enjoy life. The know how to do that in ways I do not.
They were still able to get outside some since there was no internet in their early childhood, and the culture was a tad less paranoid. People forget or don't know that violent crimes and threats to children are probably lower now that twenty or thirty years ago. Yet we in effect imprison our youth as if keeping people safe in a cage is kinder and better than letting them risk the hazards of the free range, so to speak.
You want your damned egg producing chickens to be free range and not dosed with antibiotics and hormones, but your kids are monitored 24/7 and dosed with whatever satisfies the school and shuts the little urchin up. Ritalin, cocaine, whatever. Why do people puch for happy chickens but only "safe" children. Overly safe is a complete drag for anyone and not the nature of life, living, passion or motivation.
Of course if you watch the news, listen to Obama type sound bites or crazy ass preacher-politicians long enough, you think you are crazy if you question all the garbage. I'm telling you, the status quo is what is totally off base, insane, and destructive.
Political figures in our age try to have that same mystique a priest might have. They are priests with a gun to your head. People do not stand up to this stuff because they are afraid, insecure, unsure, and suckers for itty bitty bribes in the form of free government things and unearned power over others.
Anyway, this group is not so typical of baby boomers or anyone else except people who can live without the approval of all the pop culture conformity police.
'
Tuesday, March 10, 2015
What This Pig Needs
...is more grease. Grease that baby up! If it stays where it is, squirming like that, it'll be tomorrow's breakfast bacon. Or maybe next week's.
No question the creature has the moves, but I just don't think she's able to slip through the gauntlet without serious injury, eventually giving up.
We shall see.
Mark my words---three words, maybe four: Po ca hon tas.
Don't say I didn't warn you. Misfits, run for your lives!!
No question the creature has the moves, but I just don't think she's able to slip through the gauntlet without serious injury, eventually giving up.
We shall see.
Mark my words---three words, maybe four: Po ca hon tas.
Don't say I didn't warn you. Misfits, run for your lives!!
Sunday, March 8, 2015
An Unsolitary Man
It is amazing how much of an isolationist I am, yet that is not my first choice, were I capable of making choices differently than I have.
I enjoy playing songs with people. I like it when there is a singer, and worthy lyrics. That is why I like the group I've been working with. Mostly we are backing the singer/song writer, Sande. And her stuff is good enough that I am willing to put my stuff on the back burner, without resentment or hesitation.
The best thing is that performing can suspend ailments for a time. Maybe not a long time, but a time. Then again, maybe for a long time. Do not know until the time comes.
I think I know how it is all working out. Worst comes to worst I'll hire deaf mutes to overhaul my house and life. They have to be illiterate as well, but intuitively good workers. That way they won't be able to talk and sully my good name.
I'm hoping someone turns up with a video from this weekend at Crest Community Center. Maybe because the house was packed the acoustics were better. It was beautiful, powerful, balanced sound. And we probably played part of the time at a new level. I am sure a few minutes were our best of all time. An evolving project. We are getting tighter, and more settled in ways.
If I discover a video, I hope it is good because it was fun. If it is good I will put it up. The last one can only be seen on FB by friends of the posting person. Or so I understand.
I enjoy playing songs with people. I like it when there is a singer, and worthy lyrics. That is why I like the group I've been working with. Mostly we are backing the singer/song writer, Sande. And her stuff is good enough that I am willing to put my stuff on the back burner, without resentment or hesitation.
The best thing is that performing can suspend ailments for a time. Maybe not a long time, but a time. Then again, maybe for a long time. Do not know until the time comes.
I think I know how it is all working out. Worst comes to worst I'll hire deaf mutes to overhaul my house and life. They have to be illiterate as well, but intuitively good workers. That way they won't be able to talk and sully my good name.
I'm hoping someone turns up with a video from this weekend at Crest Community Center. Maybe because the house was packed the acoustics were better. It was beautiful, powerful, balanced sound. And we probably played part of the time at a new level. I am sure a few minutes were our best of all time. An evolving project. We are getting tighter, and more settled in ways.
If I discover a video, I hope it is good because it was fun. If it is good I will put it up. The last one can only be seen on FB by friends of the posting person. Or so I understand.
Thursday, March 5, 2015
Star and Micey - Love Me?/#1
I happened upon Star and Micey videos last night, somehow. About a year before I left Memphis I crossed paths with them. They were very young and had a very uplifting attitude and presence. Only three of them then.
The guy with glasses that is shown for a second or two with a mandolin is the creative force. The name came from his talks with a homeless guy who said his name was Star and his long lost wife's name was Micey. Hence the name. He'd just settled on it back when I saw them.
They had great family support but had hardly played anywhere. It was a kind of invitation only open mic environment. The excitement and joy of the whole thing, with such great family backing was infectious. In a way, very southern. I'd forgotten that little episode in my secret life. It was a bright point during a dark period.
Not sure how I got there. None of the old band knew of my forays into more acoustic, non blues circumstances. Can't swear to it, but I believe I sat in with them on a tune or two. They made an impression for me to remember 8 years or so later.
Ardent, one of the studios where I recorded, signed them. Ardent is the most impressive studio in Memphis. That is definitely the home of the cool kids.
So, I am thrilled that they got signed so soon after they began, and that they still have a good attitude and they rock.
The guy with glasses that is shown for a second or two with a mandolin is the creative force. The name came from his talks with a homeless guy who said his name was Star and his long lost wife's name was Micey. Hence the name. He'd just settled on it back when I saw them.
They had great family support but had hardly played anywhere. It was a kind of invitation only open mic environment. The excitement and joy of the whole thing, with such great family backing was infectious. In a way, very southern. I'd forgotten that little episode in my secret life. It was a bright point during a dark period.
Not sure how I got there. None of the old band knew of my forays into more acoustic, non blues circumstances. Can't swear to it, but I believe I sat in with them on a tune or two. They made an impression for me to remember 8 years or so later.
Ardent, one of the studios where I recorded, signed them. Ardent is the most impressive studio in Memphis. That is definitely the home of the cool kids.
So, I am thrilled that they got signed so soon after they began, and that they still have a good attitude and they rock.
Wednesday, March 4, 2015
So, maybe later
I like the professionals who suggest options, with one of them some variation of the "Let's wait a couple of months and worry about it then, Maybe it will be different." I chose that option over the definitive but invasive visit to the core of my being--carnally speaking.
My vital signs are terrific, so I am pretty sure all else is just a misunderstanding of some kind. However, I do plan to get a bigger car to compensate for ill formed, smaller than normal reds. Remember Red China? Of course.
But who remembers Red Rhode Island? No one. See my point?
Probably not, but trust me, there is one, either contained within the lines, or between them.
I may have yelled at the lady at the information desk who wears a mask. At first I thought it was to avoid disease. Now I realize it is to hide her identity because she's a terrorist. A 95 year old female terrorist.
The bureaucratic maze that is this complex leaves people other than myself, even employees, at a loss when trying to discern the route between here and there, or even where there is. So, there is a huge, semi circular desk, in front of a woman sitting on a raised chair, sort of like a judge. She is wearing a mask.
"May I help you?"
"Where is imaging, x ray?"
Do you have an appointment?
I don't know, I just came from upstairs, Dr. Dracula ordered the tests, and they said to go but I am not sure of the directions given me. Just need to go there.
Where is your paper work?
I give her something, but it is not her job. She wants to start calling to see if I really have authority to go to this xray place.
Do people crash x rays ordered for others? Do they sneak in and make mischief?
I reached over and grabbed my papers and was trying to leave. I got there eventually. The masked matron was nuts. I'm pretty sure she must have escaped from the psych ward, and she commandeered the information desk while real employees were at lunch. No one would pay this terrorist shrew.
I felt the disapproving look of strangers while I angrily asked her to please just not involve herself in my business and forget I asked her anything. I may have said, without thinking, "Hey the last thing I need is a fucking moron calling different departments causing more bureaucratic idiocy than we already have. No more idiotic bureaucrats need to be involved." Words to that effect, including an expletive or two.
It didn't dawn on me until later that she was an escaped lunatic. I would have played along better.
Oh well.
.
My vital signs are terrific, so I am pretty sure all else is just a misunderstanding of some kind. However, I do plan to get a bigger car to compensate for ill formed, smaller than normal reds. Remember Red China? Of course.
But who remembers Red Rhode Island? No one. See my point?
Probably not, but trust me, there is one, either contained within the lines, or between them.
I may have yelled at the lady at the information desk who wears a mask. At first I thought it was to avoid disease. Now I realize it is to hide her identity because she's a terrorist. A 95 year old female terrorist.
The bureaucratic maze that is this complex leaves people other than myself, even employees, at a loss when trying to discern the route between here and there, or even where there is. So, there is a huge, semi circular desk, in front of a woman sitting on a raised chair, sort of like a judge. She is wearing a mask.
"May I help you?"
"Where is imaging, x ray?"
Do you have an appointment?
I don't know, I just came from upstairs, Dr. Dracula ordered the tests, and they said to go but I am not sure of the directions given me. Just need to go there.
Where is your paper work?
I give her something, but it is not her job. She wants to start calling to see if I really have authority to go to this xray place.
Do people crash x rays ordered for others? Do they sneak in and make mischief?
I reached over and grabbed my papers and was trying to leave. I got there eventually. The masked matron was nuts. I'm pretty sure she must have escaped from the psych ward, and she commandeered the information desk while real employees were at lunch. No one would pay this terrorist shrew.
I felt the disapproving look of strangers while I angrily asked her to please just not involve herself in my business and forget I asked her anything. I may have said, without thinking, "Hey the last thing I need is a fucking moron calling different departments causing more bureaucratic idiocy than we already have. No more idiotic bureaucrats need to be involved." Words to that effect, including an expletive or two.
It didn't dawn on me until later that she was an escaped lunatic. I would have played along better.
Oh well.
.
Tuesday, March 3, 2015
La Musica de la Gente
The last time we played Good Guys tavern was just this past Saturday. Month or so prior was out last outing at this bar, and it was what we considered our worst show yet. This last one was good in many ways.
So, our March 10 House of Blues gig got moved to the 9th, and we had to cancel for reason that the bass player had a lame previous commitment. It all comes down to an older woman he is stalking to no avail.
However, we now have 2 House of Blues bookings, June 30 and Aug 11. Crest community center this Saturday. I have played there with Copper Creek and it is always a nice evening. I like that place. Way up on a ridge.
We have a regular 3rd Sunday of the month show at Navajo Live. And sometime soon, Hard Rock Cafe downtown. Another place I like.
This new style of play which involves many very big chords, mostly split chords, and a lot of first position, or straight harp playing, taxes my lung capacity to the limit. It is not at all easy. But it is not all typical either.
I encountered one other harp player doing a lot of stuff similar to what I do. Blew me away. He also fronts some songs, which I do not. Not with this group and no covers, in any case. After crossing paths with that guy, I think I may have upped my game a bit. I have issues with myself if I think I've been smoked by a better player. Not sure if he is better, but he does some things very much like I do. That is very rare. The tone is great, too. So, I focus more and try to utter perfect sounds and be the catalyst which defines the blend of guitar fiddle and harp.
Some of the songs have some sweet violin parts. This is purposeful arrangement on the violin, not limited dimension fiddle. People are liking the sound. No one else has this sound. I know of two other harp players who could play the background and compliment the violin. Quite the surprise to find these two. Keeps me on my toes.
Like me, these guys aren't hanging in the blues circles. Kind of a rarity among San Diego harmonica players. Most all hit the same blues things and play pretty similar licks. Many really good players in this town. Just not always the kind of stuff I care to hear.
I'm finding it a little more difficult to hang but it is OK for now. I wonder how it will be in June. Better, I hope.
So, our March 10 House of Blues gig got moved to the 9th, and we had to cancel for reason that the bass player had a lame previous commitment. It all comes down to an older woman he is stalking to no avail.
However, we now have 2 House of Blues bookings, June 30 and Aug 11. Crest community center this Saturday. I have played there with Copper Creek and it is always a nice evening. I like that place. Way up on a ridge.
We have a regular 3rd Sunday of the month show at Navajo Live. And sometime soon, Hard Rock Cafe downtown. Another place I like.
This new style of play which involves many very big chords, mostly split chords, and a lot of first position, or straight harp playing, taxes my lung capacity to the limit. It is not at all easy. But it is not all typical either.
I encountered one other harp player doing a lot of stuff similar to what I do. Blew me away. He also fronts some songs, which I do not. Not with this group and no covers, in any case. After crossing paths with that guy, I think I may have upped my game a bit. I have issues with myself if I think I've been smoked by a better player. Not sure if he is better, but he does some things very much like I do. That is very rare. The tone is great, too. So, I focus more and try to utter perfect sounds and be the catalyst which defines the blend of guitar fiddle and harp.
Some of the songs have some sweet violin parts. This is purposeful arrangement on the violin, not limited dimension fiddle. People are liking the sound. No one else has this sound. I know of two other harp players who could play the background and compliment the violin. Quite the surprise to find these two. Keeps me on my toes.
Like me, these guys aren't hanging in the blues circles. Kind of a rarity among San Diego harmonica players. Most all hit the same blues things and play pretty similar licks. Many really good players in this town. Just not always the kind of stuff I care to hear.
I'm finding it a little more difficult to hang but it is OK for now. I wonder how it will be in June. Better, I hope.
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About Me
- John0 Juanderlust
- Ballistic Mountain, CA, United States
- Like spring on a summer's day
