This Yellow Taxi Cab In Which I Ride

Cacoon

2012-01-26T19:52:00.000-05:00

It's Thursday night and I should be at open mic at Caffe Lena. However, the roads are pretty bad thanks to two hours of intense snowing, followed by, freezing rain. I'm also trying to fight a cold that has been steadily winning since this past weekend.

I'm also freezing to death. I have the heat on a little higher than usual and I'm laying on my bed, which has an electric blanket under the sheets, but I'm still chilled to the core.

Not too long ago, I posted about a renaissance in my life. Since that post, I have done some cleaning out -- if you will -- of my possessions. I sold my couch. I sold my TV. I am attempting to sell or give away a plethora of other things.

This confuses the heck out of people.

Most recently, a co-worker suggested that she was worried that I was giving away all of my stuff because I intended (she may have been joking) to commit suicide. My response to this was: "If I was really going to kill myself, I would be giving away everything, not selling it!" I added that I'm not trying to get rid of my most prized possessions: my guitar (and other music related things), my clothes/fedoras, and my laptop. I'm also not selling my bed and a couple shelving units.

But I am trying to get rid of a boat load of other things. For money.

I'm saving up for an electric guitar and an amp... but that's a story for another time.

I find that I have to explain myself to a lot of people. And they ask me a lot of questions. They ask my why I don't do such-and-such instead. Or, what are going to do when you don't have any things?

Christ, people. What's the point in owning a TV if you never watch it? What is the point of having a couch if you never sit on it? Why do I want shelves upon shelves full of collectible things when I can sell that stuff and buy things that I'll use or to go to places that I haven't seen.

True. I used to watch TV. I used to sit on and sleep on a couch. I used to get a lot of enjoyment out of the things I have collected. I don't anymore.

When the co-worker recently questioned my actions in selling many of my belongings, I came up with a metaphor on that spot.

I said,

"I'm like a caterpillar. I spent my life climbing a tree and building a cacoon around myself. The cacoon has been a big part of my life, but it's held me in for far too long. I'm finally breaking out and spreading my beautiful wings. I'm a lovely, colorful butterfly."

Yes. I did use the words "beautiful" and "lovely."

New Year; Not New Issues...

2012-01-05T23:09:00.001-05:00

I have been pretty miserable since the start of the New Year. This isn't going to be a refective post. It's going to be a post about stomach pain and going to the doctor. I shared this already on facebook, but decided to put it all together in a blog post.

Part 1:

I went to the doctor this morning for severe pain in my abdomen and sometimes in back. Some tests were ordered. First test, was a blood test. I sat down in the seat and rolled up my sleeve. My mind flashed to images of past needles that I have had stuck in my for medical purposes (and the tattoo). As a child, I was -- as most children are -- frightened to death of needles. However, as I grew, I developed a morbid curiousity with the concept of being stuck with things and so I would literally watch the needle go in as blood was drawn. Of course, I would feel a pin prick and it would hurt a little, but I was always relaxed and played it quite cool when it occured. As images of needles being stuck in my arm flashed through my mind, the nurse places three viles on the counter and explained that she intended to fill them all with my blood. When I had woken up this morning, I was in pain and felt nauseas. I vomitted just before leaving for the doctor and was still very nauseas at the time of the visit (having the doctor note that they noticed you sleeping in your car before the appointment helps your cause when you say that you are not well -- but that's a story for another time). The nurse put another object on the table next to me and began to open it. It was the needle. All I said was "... um..." and I put my hand to my head. She put the needle to the side out of my range of vision and said, "You're looking pale; would you like to try this laying down?" I tried to explain that "this has never happened to me before" and that I usually watch the needle go in and I have never... I stopped talking and started giggling. Was I seriously about to faint while getting blood drawn? The nurse stood and motioned for me to follow her to a room where I could lie down. As I stood, the room began to spin... I took a few steps gingerly and soon realized that the nurse was now helping to a new room with an exam table that I quickly crawled up and curled up on. "Let me know when you think you're ready," the nurse said. I continued to babble and giggle about this sort of thing not happening to me. The doctor came in to check on me and another nurse. They all told me how this sort of thing is common and they all know someone who has fainted when having their blood taken. They didn't seem to believe me that I normally watch blood being taken out of morbid curiousity and I have never fainted before... This somewhat bothered, but also made me laugh more. During the chatting and my giggling (and the doctor telling me he liked my shoes), the nurse took my blood... THREE TIMES! I didn't pass out... but I was brought a glass of water to sip on and I remained on the exam table for about 30 minutes before going on to my x-ray...

And part 2:

Still feeling somewhat nauseas/faint, I navigated the labrynth-like hallways of Nathan Littauer hospital. I found the Registration area and after waiting for the person in front of me "register," I stepped up to the desk and smiled as best I could as I handed the lady the printout that I was given that ordered the test. She tried to find me "in the system" (why are there always systems? And why is your name never in them when it is supposed to be?) and failed multiple times. I said with the post politeness I could muster in my state of almost-passing-out-a-half-hour-ago, "I was, like, just given this from my doctor and told to come here..." She proceeded to make multiple phone calls. I sat down the floor. When she finished the last phone call, she told me to "just go over to Radiology; they are expecting you." I thanked her and apologized for sitting on the floor. She told me which way to go. I walked around a corner didn't see a single sign that said "Radiology," but I saw a sign that said "X-Ray," so I went there. It was the right place. She was expecting me. I said, "Apparently, I'm being a pain in the ass." She assured me that I wasn't the one being a pain and why didn't "registration register" me. I agreed with her. Shortly after that, I was lead by a person (radiologist? She told me her name, but not her title) to a room where I changed into a gown. She told me to leave my shoes and socks on. I walked out of the changing area in a hospital gown, black socks and black shoes (the shoes that my doctor said he liked). The untitled woman jokingly said, "nice outfit." I said, "This gown totally does not match these shoes." I'm freaking hilarious when I'm nauseas/faint/lacking sleep and in pain. She lead me to the X-ray room and had me lay down on table. She adjusted the thing ("thing" being something above me that I'm assuming has something to do with taking the x-ray) and told me to take a deep breath. She told me exhale and not move as she walked away. Two seconds later she returned and told me to breath normally and that she was going to "check the film" to make sure it came out. About a minute later she returned. She said, "we are going to do one more." I said, "oops. Did I move?" She said, "no. You did fine." I giggled and said, "Oh. So, you screwed up." She went about her business setting up the "thing" again and explained that it came out fine, but the test that the doctor ordered required a variety of organs to be x-rayed and the x-ray she took missed some of my organs. She said, "Some people need x-rays to get all the organs in." In my near state-of-passing-out, I blurted out (jokingly, I swear!), "Are you saying I'm fat?" The untitled woman responded straight faced that it wasn't the case at all, and in fact, I'm "long," which is what required the extra x-ray. (If I'm "long" at 5'7," I wonder how many x-rays tall guys need?). I started laughing uncontrolably. I apologized profusely. I may have said, "I'm only fuckin' with ya!" But I can't remember for certain. After the second x-ray, she said she got "everything." I continued apologizing, which seems to be something I do a lot to health care professionals when I'm having tests done to see if I'm dying...

Part 3:

Back in 2008, I had a similarly woeful and yet hilarious situation in which I found myself in need of health professionals. Rather than rehash the whole story, I will provide a link to the blog entry that I wrote shortly after the ordeal:

http://jamesfred.blogspot.com/2008/07/worst-feeling-in-world.html

Part 4:

I left the hospital after my x-ray and stopped into work shortly to drop off my doctors note. At the time, all I had to go on was that I'm severely constipated and the cause of it could be something in my pancreas or gallbladder. My appendix felt "fine," apparently. I stopped at the grocery store to buy more gingerale and some gatorade. The doctor suggested that I treat the constipation for now -- because "there is definitely something in there," despite my not eating for a day and a half -- until he found out more from the x-ray. I spent most of the day sleeping or writhing in pain. The nausesness steadily went away, but each time I took a sip of gingerale/gatorade mix, my stomach exploded with acid. I also developed a wicked headache, which is probably from lack of nutrition. I received a phone call from my doctor's office a little after 5. The receptionist passed on info from the doctor. The receptionis confirmed the constipation and added that the x-ray showed...

Kidney Stones. Yes. Stones. As in, more than one.

The receptionist didn't say how many or how big, but I am being set up with a urologist in the meantime. I was also advised to go the ER if I'm in more pain.

Currently, I'm doing pretty well (which is why I am writing about it), but I'm also still kind of nauseas. I'm going to continue with the gingerale/gatorade mix until I feel like I can handle saltine crackers. Yum. Looking forward to it.

Resolutions

2011-12-23T18:34:00.001-05:00

Does anyone really change? I mean really, really change. You can sign up for the gym, you can change your diet, you can pay for match.com. No such actions gaurantee that you are going to lose weight or go on a date. You're still fat and single and before you know it, it's the end of another year.

A few co-workers, over the past year, have explained to me multiple times how this time they are going to "stick to it" (it being a diet or going to the gym regularly) and each time they explain this to me, I laugh and give them two weeks.

I have been wrong. They have lasted three weeks.

People who make resolutions (whether they are for New Year's or other times) and then fail at following through on making a change are not bad people. They are not blights on society.

However, it continues to confuse me as to why someone who continually fails at the follow through of a plan will continue to justify talking about their new plan. In other words, if you suck at something, why do you keep talking about it?

"Hey guys. I think I'm going to join the gym again," translates into "Hey James. Here comes a conversation that is going to take up five minutes of your life that you'll never get back."

In the spirit of the upcoming new year... here are some resolutions that I know I will follow:

Be awesome. (I'm always awesome; can't fail the follow through on this!)
Buy plaid shirts. (In the past three years, I have purchased -- on average -- 4 plaid shirts a year. It's pretty safe to say that such a trend will continue).
Wear fedoras. (I have taken lots of crap from people for wearing fedoras. It hasn't stopped me from wearing fedoras. I will continue to take crap from people and will continue to wear fedoras and verbally assault those who give me crap).
Play music. (Is there really any reason to suspect that I won't be able to follow through on this? I attend an open mic weekly, I am playing in a band, I have joined a songwriters group.)

See you next year!

Photo Dump

2011-11-19T17:47:00.001-05:00

I have had a bunch of pictures on my phone that I have intended to put up here since back at the beginning of the year.

At work, I have a torn piece of a magazine photo tacked to my cubicle. I got it from a travel magazine and keep it at work to remind me of nice places that I can go when I'm in a place that is the opposite of that.

A co-worker pulled this potato chip out of her bag of sour cream and onion chips. It's in the shape of a heart... how about that?

A friend at Caffe Lena cut the picture of me out of one of my business cards and taped it to the fire escape sign. This was done back a while back... it's still there. (*Note: "I'm" on stage.)

The same unnamed friend drew this on the open mic list.

I drew this at open mic at some point. And added some of the thought bubbles. The aforementioned unnamed friend wrote the description.

At some point at open mic night, I discovered a yellow twisty tie thing. I made a stick-figure playing a guitar and singing into a microphone.

This is a closer up photo. Kate Blain took some nice pictures with her camera. Maybe she will show them to you if she has her camera and you ask her nicely.

This is a pic of a list at open mic. I drew most of it and created the word collage thing.

At some point, I went to Bombers Burito Bar in Albany. This sign was put over the tip jar. I donated a dollar.

The D-Bags You Allow Yourself to be Seen With

2011-11-08T19:35:00.001-05:00

I can't even begin to express how desperately I need to live closer to a Panera Bread. This town sucks and there is no place to get a warm soup in a soft bread bowl and mooch wi-fi.

I am in the most frustrated of moods right now and nothing in my immediate drive-tooable-distance has what I want/need. So, I'm sitting in my house, freezing (because I need to save some money, so I'm keeping the heat down) and yelling at my cat (because she won't stop jumping up on the dining room table despite the extensive collection of cat deterring strategies that I have employed), which is only resulting in making me more frustrated.

So, I open up an internet browser and log into blogger.com to tell you all about it :)

Something that I can't enough of complaining about, is the occurrence of women who have obviously put a lot of time and effort into their appearance hanging out with a group of or just one guy who looks like he just got out of his cleaning out portable toilets.

Seriously. Don't even tell me that you haven't seen this. It happens all the time in shit town (AKA: where I live). Every Friday and Saturday I can point out multiple gatherings of people in which there is at least one woman dressed to the nine's with one or more guys who are dressed like dirt bags.

How? Why? Who?

Despite the fact that I witness this occurrence all the time, it never ceases to confuse me to no end.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not suggesting people who clean portable toilets are any less human than I am. Rather, I intend to suggest that no matter what you do for a living, if your girl is a model, take a f#cking bath! Wear clean clothes! Put on a sport jacket! I go out two or three times a week and It's always in a clean pair of jeans, a button down shirt, and shoes that don't have holes in them. If I'm going out with women, I often put on a sport jacket... a clean sport jacket. I even iron my shirts!

However, I suspect that it's the woman who isn't pushing the man to dress nicer. I can see her giving in to his "I don't give a f#ck" attitude, because it's not worth arguing. She just wants to have a good time with her friends. And he pays the bills, buys her a nice diamond necklace at sears for her birthday because she cut a picture out of the flyer and left it for him next to a pair of her underwear. He gives it to her a week late, but she doesn't care because he ignores her wants and needs when it pertains to anything else, so why expect something more for her birthday. He mows the lawn pretty regularly and he barely passed high school so he's stupid when it comes to money, which means that you handle the finances. You buy yourself nice dresses with the left over money every week, so you always feel beautiful. He says that he loves you when you force him to, and... oh, isn't that the way all guys are?

She stands at the bar wearing the most beautiful dress she could find. She feels beautiful sipping her whiskey sour and chatting with her friends. At the end of the night, however, she leaves with the guy wearing the dirtiest shit-kickers and holiest shirt in the bar.

WEXT

2011-11-07T20:11:00.000-05:00

I was driving home from work the other day, listening to 97.7 WEXT, when a break between songs occured. A familiar voice popped up in a brief advertisement for the station. It was a friend's voice. The voice introduced itself and added, "For Local Music All Day, Every Day, Keep it On 97.7 WEXT." The next song then came on.

This type of thing occurs multiple times a day when I'm listening to the radio, and even though I've been listen to WEXT for a few years now, I never cease to smile when I get to hear a friend's voice doing the familiar ad.

Of course, the station plays a song by a local musician every hour and (unless it is one of the local music shows that plays much more than one!). And being that I'm a small part of the Capital District's music community, I know a lot of local musicians. I hear their songs on the station frequently and when you are in the care with me, I will completely cut you off mid-conversation and turn the radio excitedly shouting out, "Alta Mira!" or "Tom McWaters!" or "Mike Grutka!" or "Gary Moon!" or "Victoria Bouffard!" or "Mary Leigh!"

I don't mean to be a name dropper... rather, I'm excited that friends of mine are getting a chance to have themselves heard. I can't get enough of showing off my friend's music and when it happens to be on the radio, it gives them a little extra cred aside from my own pomotion.

Sorry. I'm Occupied.

2011-10-23T11:41:00.002-04:00

I wrote a letter to Mayor Jerry Jennings.

Dear Mr. Jennings:

I am writing to you to express my support of the Occupy movement in Albany. I am unable to attend the peaceful protests in person due to my work schedule, but am in full support of the message that members of the movement are presenting.

I will spare you with a rehashing of what the movement is all about; at this point, I am sure you are well-versed with the complaints/messages that Occupy members are expressing.

I would like, instead, to talk a little bit about myself and why, as one of the 99% (or 98% depending on who's sign you read), I feel helpless.

I obtained a Master’s of Arts in teaching degree about four years ago. I chose not to teach, for reasons that you don’t need to hear, and currently work for the county in which I live. I bought a house that I have owned now for five years. Because of the current state of the economy, I am selling my house. My mortgage increased by forty dollars a month over the last two years to cover taxes. The cost to heat my house has increased about 30 dollars a month in the last two years. I canceled cable in an attempt to save money, but my 2001 Pontiac Sunfire died and I needed to buy a replacement vehicle to use in my job. I went with a used ’08 Honda Fit, the monthly payments of which add another $140 a month that my paycheck goes to. With my education (student loans at 290 dollars a month), I can no longer afford my home, heating my home, food, and my car. In the past three years, I have not seen a raise, but have seen an increase in workload. I am working without a contract and the Board of Supervisors are refusing to negotiate any raise for county workers and are offering us a 1% increase in pay for 2013. I understand that the economy is struggling and each of us needs to do his or her part to cut corners and save, however, the only ones doing this are the ones who control a measly 1% of the country’s economy. I am losing things that I worked for because of the inequality in taxes for the people who control 99% of the country’s money.

I have gone without an increase in pay for three years and am only being offered a small amount for next year. Things that I need to live (food, heat, shelter, etc), however, are increasing in cost at a much more rapid rate.

And, Mr. Jennings, there is nothing that I can do about it.

Growing up, I understood that I had the power to effect change in my country by voting. However, that power has been decreased and the Government is no longer working for my interests. Special interest groups and large corporations are paying for politicians elections and effecting change in their favor and not in the favor of the greater good. In other words, 1% of the population is able to effect change while 99% is not. Also, 99% of the economy is NOT trickling down, as they like to say, to 99% of the population.

I cannot cut anymore corners to "do my part" in these tough economic times. There is nothing left to cut out of my life and I am not the only one in this situation. I am selling the home that I worked for and am not contributing to the economy because I can’t afford to buy things. I cannot effect change through voting. I am at a lost.

I support the Occupy movement, because it is the only way that I can attempt to make life better for myself and others in my situation.

Thank you for your time,

James Frederick

Thoughts

2011-10-22T20:26:00.001-04:00

It seems like every time I sit down to write a blog entry, my train of thought is interrupted by one thing or another and I end up with a paragraph or so about some-such-thing that never gets posted. Most of the time, my thoughts are interrupted by people. I get a text from my dad, or a friend meets me at the coffee shop. Don't get me wrong, these aren't bad things by any means. In fact, I suppose that my lack of complete thoughts (blog entries) is due to socializing with people (real, live people) instead of communicating what I'm thinking through words on your computer. So, instead of you hearing about my life via my blog, you are hearing about it in person or over the phone. Cool, right?

Survival of the Fittest

2011-10-01T23:22:00.003-04:00

There is a small hallway, in the coffee shop in which I sit. The hallway joins the back two sides of the coffee shop. The following illustration should provide you with a better idea of the layout that I’m talking about:

The red rectangle thing at the bottom is the entrance to the coffee shop. The purple rectangle thing is where I am sitting with friends. The green rectangle thing is the door to a bathroom (the bathroom breaks up the coffee shop and creates a hallway where that red circle is).

While sitting here with friends, we noticed that the bathroom is out of order. An employee kept walking in and out of the bathroom with tools. Many people walked up to the door, noticed the out of order sign, and walked down a back hallway (as shown in the illustration) to the other bathrooms.

This occurred for quite some time until the employee suddenly came out of the bathroom quickly… a puddle of water followed him.

Soon, a bunch of the employees had the hallway blocked off with “Caution: Wet Floor” signs and crates stacked up on each side of the hallway. There was also a mop and bucket leaning against the wall. It looked like a hazardous area.

People walked over crates, wedged themselves between signs, and ducked under the mop handle to get through the hallway. Many of them then looked at the door to read the “Out of Order” sign and then continued through the floor signs, crates, and mop to get to the back hallway bathrooms.

My friends and I watched this idiocy continue for quite some time. After a while we decided to start laughing loudly and making comments under our breaths as moron’s continued to traverse the obstacles instead of walking back around. An employee joined us in the laughing a few times and, after a while, came back with some tape. He put two long pieces of tape across each entrance to the hallway in X shapes. He then put a sign on each X that said “Do NOT Cross.”

We laughed. I joked that someone would get caught in the tape like a fly in a spider web…

A couple moments later, someone pushed the tape aside and ducked under it to get through the hallway…

No offense, but how stupid can you be?

It’s survival of the fittest. We try to protect people by putting up hazard signs and they walk around them…

Renaissance

2011-09-24T18:36:00.000-04:00

Over the past two years, I have gone through a lot of changes. Some might say that I have done a 180 (I love it when people say 360 when they mean 180 -- idiots) as it pertains to where my life was headed. I certainly don't think that this 180 talk applies to my own situation... in fact, I can very easily trace how every moment in my life has lead to this exact one...

Pfffffffttttttthh... Yeah right! Wouldn't it be hilarious if I was the type of person to get that sentimentally philosophical about life? Ha!

I am, however, continuing to "change." Unless, "adapt" is a better word. "Grow?" Okay. I'm voting for "grow."

I am continuing to grow. The next step in this growth process is to sell a whole crapload of my belongings. Not important stuff, like my toothbrush and bed; rather, I need to get rid of things that I own that aren't used. And there are a lot of such things.

This is not a new concept. In fact, I have been thinking about doing this for some time. However, it wasn't until a friend posted on facebook that she needed a couch for her new apartment. To which I replied, "You can buy my couch."

My couch, among other things, is something that I own that I don't use. I can honestly tell you that the only times I have touched my couch in the past six or ten months is to clean cat hair off of it. I haven't even sat on the couch in that time period. Previous to that, I only sat on it a few times a month to watch a movie.

So, I sold my couch. I will not be buying a new one and this confuses some people. I assert, however, that there is no point in owning something that isn't used and the money that I am getting from the sale of the couch is going to give me more satisfaction in the short and long-term than the couch has in quite some time.

The random couch sale has been the spring board, so-to-speak, in the preparation of selling other things that I don't use. My TV, for example, hasn't even been turned on since the last time I sat on the couch and watched a movie. In a previous post (from about a year and a half ago), I wrote about the getting-rid-of cable. The TV remained mostly unused since that point.

Over the years, I have collected a bunch of crap. I have collected a bunch of really cool things... but, I have also collected a bunch of crap. It's time to say good-bye to the crap. I have a large collection of fantasy-related stuff. Okay, it's Lord of the Rings collectible things. I have a sword, for instance, and a bunch of statues that are displayed throughout the house. There is also a flag, a map, and tapestry throw pillows (that take a lot of slack from friends*).

I still have two dresser drawers full of Don Mattingly (my favorite baseball player, way back when having a favorite baseball player was important) memorabilia, which includes baseball cards, Staring Lineup figurines, and plaques.

There are two desks in my house, which pretty much only serve as places for me to stack things that I don't use and don't know what to do with. Each desk has a chair that I haven't sat on in over a year if not more. One of the chairs is stacked with clothing that I don't feel like folding and haven't worn in forever.

Speaking of clothing, I cleaned my closet out over a year ago and filled two garbage bags with clothes that I don't wear. The garbage bags are in a corner of my bedroom and have yet to be moved to goodwill. There's also a bunch of old suits or suits that don't fit me properly that are in my closet. I bet I could put these on sale at a consignment shop and make some money from them... but I'd have to actually take them to a consignment shop...

I think the collectible stuff is going to be tough to deal with. They have a high intrinsic value to me (at least, they used to) and I don't want to just give them away or throw them out. The Lord of the Rings sword that I own is a limited edition (only 5,000 made) and has got to be worth more than it was purchased for… if I can’t sell it for more, I’m going to be depressed.

Still, this stuff has to be gone. Call it a renaissance if you will or a 180. I'm in the process of growing and all of this stuff is stunting my growth.

*RE: the tapestry Lord of the Rings pillows -- they are great pillows (ie: big, comfortable) and have been on my couch for years. I did not buy them. They were a gift... and when I received the gift, my eyes went big with trepidation (you mean, we are going to put these where people can see them?!? REALLY?). Now that I have no couch, I have little use for throw pillows, let alone, Lord of the Rings tapestry pillows.

"The Rest is Just Whatever"

2011-09-01T16:29:00.000-04:00

I am at Uncommon Grounds in Saratoga listening to my iTunes on shuffle. I'm trying desperately to remove the god awful lyrics and music from my brain that have been stuck on repeat for the last few hours.

It's shortly after the Saratoga Lip Dub wrapped up filming. I got to be a small part of it along with a great group of Caffe Lena folks.

I'm a big fan of lip dubs. If you are unfamiliar with what a lip dub is, Wikipedia is your friend. So is Youtube. I have actually had the idea of doing a lip dub in Saratoga for some time, but since I don't have the funds or the pull with any organization that has the funds, I have not been spreading my idea. A group with the funds and the pull and the backing of the Common Council went ahead planned out an elaborate lip dub on Broadway in Saratoga and invited many Broadway business and Caffe Lena to be a part of it.

I got involved when I was asked by a Caffe Lena performer if I would like to show up and be a part of it. He didn't have any additional info, so I e-mailed Sarah Craig (who is Caffe Lena's Director) to get the whos, whats, wheres, and whens. She proceeded to ask me if I'd like to be the group leader and be the point person for getting other open mikers and such involved.

I ended up with about seven or so musicians joining me on lip dub day. We met outside of Caffe Lena and Breuger's Bagels. For the filming, we were located in front of Suave Faire.

The lip dub features three songs by the band Train. The reasoning behind using Train's songs is that the band's drummer is originally from Saratoga. I actually had a friend who worked with the drummer's mother. I don't recall the friend's name... but I do remember and oddly irrelevant fact: apparently, the drummer's mom was really super nice.

The songs in the lip dub are Soul Sister, If It's Love, and Drops of Jupiter. I'm really not a "fan" of Train, but I have seen them live a couple of times and briefly met the lead singer and the guitarist after a show. I'm more than familiar with Drops of Jupiter having seen the band multiple times and having been in a relationship with someone who played Train's CDs quite often. I don't like the song... but it was easy for me to learn for the lip dub. Although, I didn't get to be in the part of the lip dub that featured Drops of Jupiter.

Soul Sister just might be the most overplayed, crappy pop song EVER. But, I kind of like the song. It is catchy and infectious and lyrically, it's really not bad. The "hey-eh's" are really sing-a-longable and Train deserves credit for being successful in that. I've covered Soul Sister a few times and learned it really quickly for the lip dub. Although, I didn't get to be in the part of the lip dub that featured Soul Sister.

The second song in the lip dub, If It's Love, just might be the worst song I have ever heard... the lyrics are absolutely pointless and make very little sense. The verse chords are just F# C# -- not much to it musically. The chorus, is somewhat catchy and actually follows the same progression as the verse in Soul Sister. Besides the chorus, I really struggled to learn this song. In fact, I couldn't even tell you what the lyrics are, because they move so quickly and are so pointless that I wasn't able to memorize them. Other people in my group of Caffe Lena folks told me how they struggled with this song too. We also all agreed that we hate the song. Of course, this song was the one we had to play along to in the lip dub. What are the chances?

When the group got together in our spot, we broke out our instruments, commiserated about how much we hate the song we have to do, and started jamming on it together. We helped each other out with figuring out how the parts go musically. Then we jammed on a bunch of other songs that we know. We had three guitars, a banjo, a violin, a wooden flute, and a triangle. The triangle was paramount in bringing the whole thing together. This was the most fun of the whole day.

Eventually, the lip dub film crew came through for a "dry run." The music was playing and we learned what part of the song we would be on film for. We were all excited to discover that it was right on the chorus, which was easiest to learn. After a few high fives and sighs of relief, we memorized the words.

We practiced our "part" a bunch of times and then hung around until we were told that the first official run was starting. Each "run" was pretty much the same. We would hear the music down the street before we saw the film crew in their buggy. We would start playing along once we heard the music and just about when we got to the chorus, the buggy would cruise by with the camera directed right at us. We'd ham it up for the camera. And for about one line of the chorus, we would sing along. We have a good five or six seconds of screen time (maybe...).

After the last run, we dispersed. I am trying to get the song out of my head. I hate the song... I hated it before I started learning it. But now it's stuck...

Here are the lyrics, which are beyond awful:

While everybody else is getting out of bed
I'm usually getting in it
I'm not in it to win it
And there's a thousand ways you can skin it

My feet have been on the floor
Flat like an idle singer
Remember winger
I digress
I confess you are the best thing in my life

But I'm afraid when I hear stories
About a husband and wife
There's no happy endings
No Henry Lee
But you are the greatest thing about me

[Chorus]
If it's love
And we decide that it's forever
No one else could do it better
If it's love
And we're two birds of a feather
Then the rest is just whenever
And if I'm addicted to loving you
And you're addicted to my love too
We can be them two birds of a feather
That flock together
Love, love
Got to have something to keep us together
Love, Love
That's enough for me

Took a loan on a house I own
Can't be a queen bee without a bee throne
I wanna buy ya everything
Except cologne
'cause it's poison
We can travel to Spain where the rain falls
Mainly on the plain side and sing
'cause it is we can laugh we can sing
Have ten kids and give them everything
Hold our cell phones up in the air
And just be glad we made it here alive
On a spinning ball in the middle of space
I love you from your toes to your face

[Chorus]

You can move in
I won't ask where you've been
'cause everybody has a past
When we're older
We'll do it all over again

When everybody else is getting out of bed
I'm usually getting in it
I'm not in it to win it
I'm in it for you

If it's love
And we're two birds of a feather
Then the rest is just whenever
Then the rest is just whenever

If it's love
And we decide that it's forever
No one else could do it better
And if I'm addicted to loving you
And you're addicted to my love too
We can be them two birds of a feather
That flock together
Love, love
Got to have something to keep us together
Love, love
Got to have something to keep us together
Love, love
That's enough for me

Ughh... brutal. (I just noticed that these lyrics have "the rest is just whenever." The lyric sheet we went by says "the rest is just whatever." Oh well.)

Blahhhwwggggg...

2011-08-24T20:18:00.000-04:00

I have not been blogging for quite a while. Mostly because my blog has been somewhat broken. Actually, it was my website that was broken and it wasn't posting the blog on the homepage the way it had previously. I attempted a bunch of different "fixes" and eventually decided to use a java script widget as a replacement for the php that had been there. I'm sure little of that makes sense unless you are a computer programmer of some sort.

I'm feeling quite "blahhh" right now. I'm stuck at home being on-call for work and on-call has been rather full-of-calls tonight.

My allergies have been acting up... it's that time of year. I took Benadryl Monday night on top of my normal allergy meds and then felt like a zombie for the past two days.

When you are on extra, zombie-inducing allergy medications, it's hard to focus and write songs. It's even harder to focus and write songs when you are trying really hard but failing at not itching your eyes out because you didn't take extra, zombie-inducing allergy medications.

I'm dying to complete another song. I have been focusing on learning new songs for so long that I've forgotten how to sit down and write. I have lots of ideas and snippets of songs floating around in my head... they just need to organize themselves when I have some time to write them down.

Another thing that has kept me from songwriting is my screen play. I haven't told many people up until recently. I have been working on a screen play for a movie for about three years. I just finished it and had some volunteers read it. I got a couple responses back stating that it's "good." I hope to get some more indepth reviews.

Now that it's finished, I should get back into songwriting for a bit. Yes. That is my goal.

Something is wrong

2011-07-07T20:53:00.003-04:00

There seems to be something wrong with the blog transferring to the homepage of my site. I'm not really sure why. This is just a test post to see if things will correct themselves with a fresh posting.

Pointless Gardens

2011-06-29T22:56:00.004-04:00

I have been a lousy blogger. It's been like a month since my last posting. Although, it's my blog... so, technically, I can blog whenever I want and no one can tell me I'm being lousy. So... there.

It's getting late on a Wednesday -- a work night. However, tomorrow is my Friday since I took the real Friday off this week. I'm getting a four-day weekend out of the deal and I'm pretty darn excited about it. I took a mini vacation from work about a month ago, but ever since I've been back, I've been slammed with crisis after crisis. Things have finally begun to normalize and I actually caught up on stuff that I was way behind in. So, I earned a long weekend!

I like taking Fridays off because Thursday is Open Mic Night at Lena's and at the Circus Cafe. Without having to work on Friday, I feel more free to enjoy myself. No restraints on needing to be in bed by a somewhat decent hour. Woo!

Friday, I'm planning on grabbing some camping supplies (a really nice flashlight and some food, I guess). Then, I'm going up to Mason Lake where some friends are camping for the weekend. I have never been, but my friends go every year and they provided some good stories about last year's Fourth of July weekend.

My plan is to go up midday Friday and enjoy the lake during the day. At night, I imagine, will be the drinking and partying and shooting off fireworks. I don't have a tent... not sure what the tenting arrangements will be there... but I can always sleep in my car, so I'm not worried. I haven't been camping in many years... many, many years...

I'm only staying one night at the lake. I have plans to join another Fourth of July party on Saturday with wonderful friend and fellow songwriter Casey Chapman. According to the facebook invite, there will be a fire pit, food, games, instruments, and (yep) camping. Wow. Two camping parties in one weekend! And I don't even own a tent! Luckily, Casey has tenting room for rent (borrow?).

I haven't ironed out plans for Sunday or Monday yet... One day may include busking in Saratoga if the weather is decent. I was also invited to a pool party (and floating beer pong tournament) on Monday. That is a definite possibility.

---------

Flowers. I like them. They are pretty. Some smell nice (although, I have smelled some pretty disgusting flowers in my day...).

For the past six or so years, there has been a lily garden in my backyard. It started by the person living with me at the time planting lily bulbs that she was given as gifts. They apparently multiplied and she added more over a couple of years. Lilies grew each year, and despite my living alone, they continue to grow each year. They are pretty. I like them.

However, they are mostly pointless. In the spring, they begin to sprout (I don't know if this is the technical flower term or not) and for weeks upon weeks, they grow. They get tall and they look pretty much like green stalks. At this point, they are as equally pleasing to look at as my lawn when I do or don't mow it for weeks upon weeks. Then after about six weeks of being boring stalks, you start to notice that they are buds (pods? things?) coming out of the tops... and a couple days later, they start to open up. One or two more days and you have a garden full of pretty lilies that I like!

I come from work that day and I think to myself "What a pretty lily garden. They are so nice to see."

On the following day, I come home from work and I think to myself "What a pretty lily garden. They are so nice to see."

On the third day, I come from work and I notice that the flowers aren't as pretty as they were the day before...

On the fourth day (and the fifth, sixth, and so on) they flowers continue to look less and less pretty until after no more than seven or eight days, they are reduced to shriveled brown carcases.

In other words, for about three hundred and fifty days, you have nothing pleasing to look and then for about six, you have flowers.

I find it pretty pointless to me to have gardens and tend flowers. All of that work (planting, digging, mowing around the garden, pulling weeds) and it's only pretty for four days, tops. This is about the same length of time that flowers last when you get them from a florist and put them in water. Shouldn't things be different? Shouldn't flowers that are still living and attached to their bulbs thrive for longer than dead flowers in water?

Maybe in some sick way my lily garden is a horrid metaphor to the wickedness of life in general. You spend most of your life stuck in the dirt... then you work your way out and grow and grow and grow... but you only reach your true potential for a couple of days...

"Ball-Busters"

2011-05-30T21:30:00.002-04:00

When I was a wee lad... when I was a little kid, there were times when my dad would take me places (grocery store, ice cream place, his work, etc) -- typical type places where a dad would take his kid -- and on such occasions, we would run into people-that-my-dad-knows. Being a courteous person, my dad would introduce me to such people. Sometimes, my dad would say, "Hey-hey, (person's name). How are you? This is my son (James)*" And my dad would turn to me and say "(James), this is (person's name)." My dad would then explain to me how this person is someone-that-he-knows.

Most of the time, some light conversation would ensue while I drifted off into some dream-like/euphoric state of mind. However, there were times when my dad added that this person whom he just introduced to his son "is a Ball-Buster."

A "Ball-Buster?"

At some point, my dad had explained to me what a "Ball-Buster" was. It's someone who "busts balls." Obviously. In layman terms, it's someone who makes jokes at your expense by "busting" on you.

Quite often after my dad would introduce someone as a "Ball-Buster," this person would go on to make some down-right nasty comment about my dad, my dad's stature, something my dad had done at work the other day, something my dad has never done (but this person clearly believes so and needs to tell everyone), something about me, etc. And we would all laugh and go about our day.

As a kid, I didn't pay much thought to the "Ball-Busters," (after all, my dad was taking me for ice cream or something and I had more important things to think about) but as an adult, I can't help but develop my thoughts further on the label that my dad gave out during introductions rather often.

You see, while I don't recall exact statements made by the "Ball-Busters" that my dad introduced me to, I do recall the statements being crude, non-humorous, and completely and utterly detestable things to say in polite, superficial conversation. (Not to mention they were said around a 7 or 8 year old kid!).

In the typicalities of my day to day existence, I come across people often enough who make similar comments that I just don't see any place for in polite conversation. When I find myself on the receiving end of one of these comments, I often think, "Oh hey! This guy is a "Ball-Buster!"

As an adult, I have a much worse term to use to describe these people...

But, I can't help thinking back to when I was younger and I was introduced to the "Ball-Busters." It was like a happy-go-lucky term of (almost) endearment, as if to say, "Look! Here comes Tom the Ball-Buster! Busting everyone's balls! He's Tom, Fun Tom! Tom, the Ball-Buster." And a very Robin Williams-in-a-musical type characters prances in making nasty comments about everything and everyone, but we all just laugh it off 'cause it's just Tom being Tom! Gosh, golly, gee! That Tom!

Today, I looked up "Ball-Buster" in merriam-webster. It says "a person who is relentlessly aggressive, intimidating, or domineering." It adds that a "Ball-buster" is "sometimes vulgar." I also looked up asshole, which gives part of the definition as "detestable" and is described as "vulgar."

I hate "Ball-Busters." I hate Tom. Truth be told, I hate Robin Williams, too. Don't get me wrong, I love a good "Ball-Busting" when a friend slips up and you call him or her out on it. I like to follow it up with a pat on the back of the "Bustee" (person being busted on). I hate when someone in any given situation results to the "Ball-Busting."

There are just some times when you don't bust someone balls. If you do it at the wrong time (when being introduced to your co-workers kid, for a random example), then you are un-labeled "Ball-Buster" and re-labeled "Asshole."

Thus, please be aware of when and why and who you are "Ball-Busting." More specifically, if you are going to bust my balls, you damn sure better be a) a good friend, b) patting me lovingly on the back, and c) saying, "I'm just busting your balls, buddy." If you're not, you're an asshole.

*I was typically introduced as "Jimmy" when I was a wee la -- little kid.

On a Rainy Day

2011-05-26T17:54:00.002-04:00

My eyes are all eff'd up. I have been staring at my computer screen for the last three and a half hours. I had attempted to take a break a little while ago, but it was pouring outside and, besides, I was so close to finishing what I was working on... that was about an hour ago.

As usual, I'm hanging out in Uncommon Grounds. When I got here 2:30, it was muggy and sunny out. I was going to have lunch, busk for a bit, and then return to the cafe for a cold drink and typing. After first walking to the Sauve Faire (to look at hats), I decided it was too hot for busking and opted to get my cold drink right away.

While eating lunch, a bagel sandwich (these things always taste so fucking fresh -- it's amazing! I need an Uncommon Grounds in my kitchen...), I ripped some mp3s on to my computer and transferred them to my iPod. I'm in the process of doing this with a good portion of my CDs, trying to get a good mix on the iPod. I do a little at a time because it's a daunting task.

From there, I worked on music related stuff. I had started a Contract (or "agreement") for gigging. I'm going to start going for regular paying gigs. I need to supplement my income or I'm never going to afford to record. I completed the Contract/Agreement, but I want to let it sit (like I do with such things) for a few days before I proof it again. I also worked out a bunch of "cheat sheets" for songs that I am learning. I counted up the songs I typically play on a regular basis. I have two solid hours of music without needing to cheat. However, with cheat sheets, I easily have another two hours. Songs that I use cheat sheets for are ones that I like a lot and I know I'll eventually learn them and songs that I just can't seem to learn and so I need a crutch. Bob Dylan songs, for example, are difficult for me to learn. There are also cheat sheets for songs that are popular and potential requests that I don't really like that much, but will play them for the right crowd.

Having cheat sheets is pretty important because it doubles the amount of music that I can play. And if you are playing the same 30 songs over and over and over again, you lose the enjoyment of playing them. So, you've got to have some other options once in a while.

Right now I'm learning a couple Dylan covers and Have You Ever Seen the Rain. I really like the way the latter is coming out. It's one of those tunes that I've sort of made my own. I'll eventually learn that one and won't need the cheat sheet, I'm sure. I've also got a couple of cheesy 80s tunes that I'm working on, 500 Miles by the Proclaimers, and Paint it Black (which is perfect for my vocal range!) by the Stones. There are a few others that I created cheat sheets for, but there is no guarantee that I'll ever work any of them into a set. They are more for fall backs if I run out of songs or don't feel like playing the usuals.

-----------

I'm a people watcher... (some may call it 'creeping')... but I prefer people watching. While spending much of the day here in Uncommon Grounds, I couldn't help but notice this somewhat tall, young woman in a light sundress. She was quite beautiful and sat at a table near me. When she first entered the cafe, she was toting a suitcase on wheels and carrying a yoga mat. Her arms were also filled other things (some papers and a book). She was holding all of this and somehow managed to hold a cell phone to her ear as well. Before choosing the table near me, she circled the cafe three times (still talking on the phone). Then, she put her stuff down at the table near me, picked all of her stuff back up and walked over to another table further away from, put all of her stuff down at that table, packed everything back up, and returned to the table that was near me. She stayed there this time, but only briefly, before leaving her stuff at the table and taking her phone conversation outside. She returned about five minutes later (still talking on the phone) and began rifling through a notebook and other papers. She was discussing dates and times and a traveling schedule that seemed really intense. She was saying that, yes, she could make it to Pittsburgh from New York City in so long as the driving time was less than such and such. She mentioned "flying out" at some such time this weekend and stated that she needs to be back by a certain day. She spoke very casually, as if traveling like this was no big deal. I assumed as such since she was in a cafe drinking coffee with a wheeling suitcase. After the phone call ended, she opened a book. Shortly after that, her phone rang and she began talking again, leaving her book open to the page she left off on. She talked for another period of time and returned to the book. Then, just a few minutes later, she put down the book (again keeping the page opened) and made another phone call. Shortly after that phone call, she packed all of her things up again and walked back to the bathroom. I noticed her leaving the cafe a few minutes later.

I'll never know why she travels so much or who she was talking to. People interest me. I like to hear why they do what they do. I think the reasons that I do what I do are compelling enough for me to keep a blog about them. I wish this woman had blogged what was going on in her mind during the whole situation... although, maybe nothing was going on in her mind and to her this is just the way things go. I, however, find it interesting.

A Dying Wookiee?

2011-05-11T19:44:00.000-04:00

Okay. It's a dog. Good. Now, I can go back to being upset at other people instead of myself.

It all started when I opened my windows about a month and a half ago. It was warmish out in March for a few days and I opened some of the windows in my house to let some cool/fresh air in. I closed them shortly after that and then opened them again and closed them again and... you get the picture. Now that it's been consistently warm out, the windows have remained in some state of open-ness for a good week and a half.

When you open your windows in the spring time, two things come into your home. The first thing is spring-time air. Sometimes, it's air that is still on the chilly side, but you let it in because you want some fresh air to replace what has been sitting in your house since last Fall. Sometimes, it's because it really is too warm in your house to survive, even with the heat off, that you require some cooler spring-time air to bring the temperature down to something your body likes better. Either way, it's a good and welcome thing.

The other thing that comes into your home when you open the windows is the sounds of your neighborhood...

There are many types of sounds that a neighborhood (as a whole) makes. Some sounds are welcome: birds chirping/singing, the ice cream truck going by... (that's all I can think of and truth be told the birds wake me up sometimes and the ice cream truck song is annoying and repetitive).

Luckily, I have rather quiet neighbors. I live in a mostly quiet neighborhood, in which, most of the people on my street are elderly and only make a ruckus when they are mowing their lawns three times a day and at six in the morning*. There are some neighbors of mine who have young children and you can sometimes hear them laughing and playing or shooting hoops. Sometimes they argue and there is the ultra-rare crying fit, but mostly these are sounds that make the neighborhood feel alive and lived in. My immediate next door neighbor is a musician and I often hear him strumming his acoustic guitar or plucking his banjo on his front porch or back yard. I'm sure my neighbors hear my guitar playing often enough.

Since I opened my windows, I have become accustomed to the sounds. At first, they seemed over powering. After all, the windows had all been shut previously and not many neighbors were out doing neighborhood-esque things in the chillier temperatures.

One sound, however, sticks out more so than the others. And now that it's been about a month and a half with the windows open, I'm realizing that it's not a one-time sound and it's not going to go away.

When I first heard the sound, I easily dismissed it as a baby crying or a perhaps a dog howling. It is a distant sound when I hear it and I'm in my house, so it's hard to make out exactly what it is coming from. Typically, I hear it when I'm laying in bed (in the morning or at night) and, so, everything is pretty quiet and my mind has the time to think about what the sound could be.

After hearing it multiple times I started to think that it couldn't be a baby crying/screaming -- it was too "bassy." But, if it were a baby, it would be alright; eventually, the baby would grow up. I idly wondered if someone had kidnapped a person and was torturing them on a daily basis, since the sound occurred so often and was so horrid sounding. Of course, if it was a person being tortured, they would eventually give up the info or die and then I wouldn't hear it anymore.

Another thought that I had was: werewolf -- but, that is a clearly ridiculous thought, because werewolves only come out on a full moon and I was hearing these sounds during the day. Duh. I also toyed with the idea that Chewbacca was dying down the street from me, but that whole Star Wars thing happened "A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away..."

Meanwhile, this sound was really starting to bother me. It was throaty and bassy and sounded like something dying a torturous death. I grew to hate the sound, due to its predictability and disturbing nature... I wished it would stop at whatever cost to the thing making the sound.

A few days ago, I was outside... and I heard it again. It was a little louder, now that I was hearing it outside and not walled in by my house, and more defined, detailed.

I'm such an idiot, I thought. It's a developmentally disabled person...

I started to feel really bad. Here I was developing all of this hatred towards whatever it was that was creating this awful sound, which was brutally annoying to me, and it might be coming from someone who didn't have a choice in making it. I have worked with people who have various disabilities, some of which were unable to communicate with words and often sounded like dying creatures when attempting speech. That was what the sound sounded like.

But, I was wrong.

Today, I had to borrow a ladder from a neighbor down the street. While walking in that direction, I was also coming closer to where that sound was coming from.

And there it was. The sound. Being that I was closer than I had yet been, I heard it with much more detail. And that detail was the way in which the sounded ended. It crescendoed in a forceful exhale that was almost a cough, but wasn't quite. It was definitely a woof. Dog.

Phew. I can go back to not feeling bad for hating on a person with disabilities. I can also go back to hating on pet owners! Not all pet owners, mind you... some pet owners are responsible and actually take care of their pets. Not this one though! This dog whines in long drawn out doggy-sobs at multiple times throughout the day. I don't know how people who live closer to this dog handle it. I live down the street and the sound is mostly muffled and unclear. If I lived a half of a block closer, I would probably strangle these people... and then take the dog out to the country and let it be free...

*I may have exaggerated, but my elderly neighbors have picture perfect lawns because they don't work and spend all day making them look picture perfect... I can't compete.

Does Anyone Buy Anything That People Try To Sell Them At Their Front Door?

2011-05-09T22:09:00.004-04:00

I came home from work today with the intention of mowing my lawn... I was sidetracked when as soon as I walked in the back door, the front doorbell rang. I answered the door (despite my having-to-go-to-the-bathroom) because I didn't think there was going to be anyone there. I didn't see anyone on the street when I pulled in my driveway and the doorbell that I own operates on frequencies and has been known to randomly go off without anyone around to push the button. To my dismay there were two dick-ish looking men standing there with shark-esque smiles on their faces. The taller of the two was wearing a full-on, ill-fitting suit. My mind instantly went to "these are guys are going to try to sell me something... probably a gas provider."

"I don't have time right now," was my introduction.

The shorter guy with fierce eyes (I wasn't listening to what he said. Instead, I simply noted his pushy salesman-ness and general jerk-face-ery for laughs later on. I hate these types of people) began with his spiel. But this was different. He was explaining to me that National Grid has received multiple complaints about people going door to door trying to scam people into signing contracts for energy or gas suppliers. He gave me an information sheet about my rights and proceeded to explain them to me. He said his company is my current supplier and so National Grid has tasked his company with going door to door to "clean up the mess" left by the previous people going door to door.

Then he said, "I understand that you are in a rush, but I'll only take three minutes of your time. If you get your National Grid bill, I'll show you how you are currently paying too much and how I can lock you in a fixed rate and save you some money."

I explained that I don't have three minutes and that I'd gladly take information from him and review at my leisure.

I don't remember exactly what he said next, but it was so rehearsed and came out so quickly that I literally felt that I had been hit in the face. He didn't stop either. He smiled with that type of grimy look that says, "I know exactly how to eat your face and you wouldn't even see it coming." He continued with another line that was almost somewhat convincing. He named a few of my neighbors that he had helped and pointed at a few houses.

No matter what I said in response to his statements he had something quick and solid sounding to follow it up. It threw me off. It put me on the defensive.

He said he was going to visit my grumpy neighbor on the corner, stating that he had tried them a few moments earlier and they told them to go away because they were eating dinner. He seemed to revel in being annoying to people. Then he said he would come back and try me again.

I told him I was leaving. But, I wasn't leaving... I needed to mow the lawn. Fuck. Fuck this fucker! He is good. I had to lie to him to get him to stay.

I quickly asked him for his card. He said they don't give out any information and asked me again if I had three minutes to get a fixed rate on my energy. I said, "no."

I closed the door without saying good-bye. I quickly logged on to National Grid to see if his company was the one providing me with my electricity. I couldn't found out where it said it was his company.

At this point, I've forgotten the name of the company... I don't have a card or any other pieces of info who the jerk-face and ill-fitting suit-head were. Sucks too. I want to complain about them...

The Bachelor

2011-05-01T19:09:00.003-04:00

I'm confused. A "bachelor" is a single man. Correct? Yet, a "bachelor party" is for the dude that is getting married. Simply put: WTF?

I just snagged this from merriam-webster.com:

Definition of BACHELOR
1: a young knight who follows the banner of another
2: a person who has received what is usually the lowest degree conferred by a 4-year college, university, or professional school ; also : the degree itself
3a : an unmarried man
b : a male animal (as a fur seal) without a mate during breeding time

There is no definition for "bachelor party." (And that's probably a good thing.)

Webster's 3a definition soothed my confusion. However, from now on I'm going to tell people that I am an animal without a mate at breeding time.

It's Sunday around 7:00pm and I'm chilling outside on a soft cushioned bench/swing. It's a perfect temperature, though, I imagine it will start to get cold soon when the sun starts t go down.

It has been a pretty epic weekend. But first, I'm going to get chronological.

On Thursday, I played Lena's Open Mic as usual. I went to Saratoga with no money in my wallet (true, I have a checking account and an ATM card, but that's not the point). I was early, so I went up to Broadway and busked for about 20 minutes. A fellow open miker walked by and dropped some change in. A few others dropped some bills. Since it costs three dollars for open mic, I was hoping to make three dollars. I ended up with $2.78. However, as I was packing up, I noticed a quarter on the ground near the curb of the sidewalk. Yup. $3.03.

At open mic, I played an old song of mine called In Your Dreams and Walls by Tom Petty. The group that played before me was called something "creek." I remarked -- after their blue-grassy performance -- that if you hear a band that uses the word "creek" in their name, then it's a given that there will be a banjo player in that band.

On Friday, I met some co-workers out for drinks after work. The casino was suggested and then settled on. We drove out to Turning Stone (I drove after tricking my co-workers into giving me money to do so) and gambled for a few hours. I was doing well on the Craps table for a little bit (I only know some of the rules), but ended up losing it all before we left. I don't feel to bad about it, though, since it was mostly my co-workers' money that I spent.

I woke up in mid-morning on Saturday, packed some stuff, grabbed my golf clubs and met at my friend Jared's place. A whole group of us got together for my friend Justin's bachelor party. It was a beautiful day weather wise and it all started with golf. Some of us have golfed before. Some of us are decent at golf. Some of us played for the first time. And at least one of us (me) used to be pretty good but sucks now. Why golf? I dunno. The guys have picked up the game over the past few years and it just made sense.

After the golf game, we were picked up by a limo and taken to Saratoga. The limo ride was indescribable. Because it was my friend Justin's "going away" party (ha!), we decided to find a way to play beer pong (a favored drinking game of the bachelor) in the limo. And we did. After brain storming ideas, a couple of the guys took milk crates and put holes in them so that cups could be placed in the holes and held securely. We were able to play two games on the way to Saratoga. My team won both games, making us first ever champions of Limo Beer Pong -- an honor I shall boast proudly for the rest of my life!

There was a keg of home-brewed beer in the limo. One of us asked the limo driver if he's ever had a keg of beer in the limo. He said he hadn't. He added that beer pong in the limo was also a first. That's right, folks, we popped the limo's cherry twice. We are so bad-ass and cool.

We were then taken to our hotel in 'Toga where more beer pong was played and drinking in general continued. Things got a little rowdy for a while, but no hotel rooms were injured in ruckus. We ate dinner at the Sushi-Tai Garden on Phila. We were at a table near some middle-aged women, one of which became quite obsessed with us (namely Casey who was wearing a tie, a zip-up tie) and was very, very drunk. Picture taking with us ensued. She then informed the soon-to-be-lost-to-us (ha!) bachelor that her husband had died of a brain tumor and that "he's in the ground now." A w k w a r d ...

We walked to our favorite place in Saratoga, the Parting Glass, and spent the rest of the night there. At some points the bachelorette (at the bachelor's bidding) and her girls joined us an more debauchery ensued. There was the balloon animal that was turned into a penis hat, the odd dancing, the singing along to the jukebox, the passing around of my fedora, and other general ridiculousness. There are also pictures of the bachelor wearing the bachelorette's sash that reads something like "Bachelorette" in pink, shiny letters.

At some point around 2am, we left Parting Glass for another bar? Food? As a group no one seemed to be able to decide. When you have a large group of people together like that, it's hard to mobilize everyone in a cohesive direction. We ended up outside of Esperantos and because many of us were talking about food, I got in line. I had a couple dough-boys and was joined by a few others. However, when we left the restaurant, I found that at least half of us had disappeared.

The rest of us walked back to the hotel. The bachelor and bachelorette were way ahead of us holding hands (awwww) or leaning on each other for support in their clearly inebriated states. Myself and a couple others contested the entire way back that we should stay out at the bars and close 'em down.

Back at the hotel, a few of us hung out together in a joined set of rooms for late night drunken conversations. At some point, I went to bed.

We checked out of the hotel on time and had breakfast (by now it was easily lunch time) at Denny's and then went our separate ways.

I ended up in my backyard sprawled out on the cushion bench/swing and napped for a good two hours. It was one of those weekends were a nap is a necessity. Even as I type, my eyes feel droopy. I imagine that I'll sleep well tonight despite sleeping late this morning and napping a short while ago.

On that note, the sun is going down and it is growing colder outside. I'm going to pack up my stuff (the laptop, book, drink, cushion, etc) and head inside. Maybe I'll read myself to sleep.

Deep Breath

2011-04-26T19:32:00.002-04:00

Today has been the type of day in which taking multiple deep breaths does not seem to result in anything other than hyperventilation.

I wrote this song lyric a few months ago and haven't been able to do anything with it, but it pretty much reiterates what I just wrote:

It's been another one of those long days
the kind that break you take your breath away

I've been sprawled out on my bed since work trying to decide if I'm hungry enough to bother making food, thirsty (?) enough to go get a beer, desiring enough to watch hockey at a bar, or in need of socializing with drunks enough to get food/beer/hockey at Partner's Pub. I may just type out this blog, hit submit, and just roll over and go to sleep.

I could get into the specifics of my work day, but that won't really make me feel any better about it. The bottom line is that I have gone a couple of years at my current position without having a conflict of interest between my job duties and bureaucracy. That ended very recently. And it's killing me.

I feel like this could be a good opportunity to stand up for my convictions... however, I don't really have any convictions here. It's my job. It's a job. I can do the job without bringing myself to far into it. (For example, my job duties require me to get involved in some pretty emotional stuff -- I can walk out of work, grab my guitar, and hit the road for open mic on a Thursday with a smile on my face and a song on my tongue.) I've always felt successful in my life in general due to the fact that I can easily jump from the heavy, emotional aspects of my job to my light-hearted, happy-go-lucky attitude.

The problem, now, is that I'm conflicted at work. It's my known job duties in one corner vs. what I'm being told to do in another corner. This confusion at work is effecting me on a personal level because I'm torn between doing what is right and what I'm being told... On the one hand, I could stand up for my convictions, but there could be repercussions to deal with... on the other hand, not standing up for my convictions will ultimately (and they already have) result in a whole different set of repercussions.

I'm trying to clear my head... trying to take deep breaths and make a decision as to what I need to do.

I don't like deciding what to do. I prefer to go with the flow... which in this case involves doing what I'm told to do... but it just feels wrong...

The Day Of...

2011-04-15T11:21:00.003-04:00

Eleven o'clock. Friday. I'm still in bed, but I'll be getting up shortly. I'm starving and I've rested enough. Big night coming up! It's the Garage to Glory Finals.

Truth be told, I'm nervous/anxious/etc. Actually, I'm not sure if it's an anxious feeling or an excited feeling... maybe it's both with some nervousness added in.

Tonight is going to be wild... the event itself is going to be full of much more than just songs. There is a host who will be chatting with people on stage. There is a person doing interviews after performances. A TV crew. Multiple cameras. It's going to be wild.

Part of my nervousness is coming from all of the production. I've been telling myself that I just have to focus on me and doing what I do, which is playing my songs. If I can convince my body to stop freaking out about everything else, I'll have no problem.

I've played for big crowds before. And I've played in new/unfamiliar places. I've played A LOT for people that I don't know and in doing so, I've learned how my body reacts to these types of situations.

I've successfully gotten rid of nervousness in the past by shaking out my arms/hands and legs/feet, jumping up and down a little bit, and stretching before going on. The worst that can happen to me on stage is that my left leg will start shaking. (It happens a lot when I'm playing a new song that I haven't learned quite yet). When that happens, I shift my weight to my other leg, which isn't as comfortable, so I shift back. This draws my attention away from my song... which isn't good. I'm used to this happening. All I have to do is keep my attention on my performance.

One other thing that makes me nervous about playing in a new place is I never know what type of sound I'm going to hear. I like to have a monitor that is full with reverb. That way, when I sing, I hear myself singing. If there is no reverb in the monitor, I don't hear myself singing and -- in fact -- the monitor ends up canceling out (in my ears) what I am singing... so, I lose my spot in the song. It's like singing and not hearing what you are singing. Does that make sense? This happened to me last night at open mic and caused to flub up a few parts.

Tonight, there will be a souncheck before hand. I'm going to make sure I like what I hear and if I have to be a dick about it, I will.

I will be arriving by 6. The show starts at 8. I won't be playing for at least an hour after that as I'm the 7th or 8th (I can't remember) person to perform. That gives me a good solid two hours (after sound check) to hang out in the green room and freak out. I'll do my arm and leg shakes. I'll run through my songs a few times.

I have to leave at 5 to get there at 6. From now until then, I'll be doing some laundry to keep me busy. Having some food. If there is time, I may clean out my car... it's a disaster...

I have quite a few friends who have said they'll be watching the event online tonight. A few people will be attending in person.

If you are one of those, or you are unable to watch, keep your fingers crossed for me!

Woooooo!

Storminess, Missing Limbs, Insomnia, Harmonica, Erotica

2011-04-11T22:31:00.002-04:00

Catchy title, eh? It all makes sense in my mind...

I can't sleep. It's only just about my bed time, but I'm logging on now to blog because we all know that I'm going to end up here eventually anyway. (Insomnia) I have trouble sleeping in general. I have extra trouble sleeping when my mind is running in circles about one particular thing or another. I have extra, extra trouble sleeping when I'm excited about being voted into the Finals of a songwriter contest that I entered. Not to mention it's rather stormy out at the moment. (Storminess) It's the first thunderstorm of the season (not exactly sure which season since -- technically -- it's spring, but today was so warm it felt like summer) and the wind is whipping and wind chimes are... chimming (leave it to my neighbors to have wind chimes out already). During the last storm (a winter storm) that we had, many tree limbs fell and littered my yard. One particularly large limb fell in my front yard and across the sidewalk. I used all of my strength to move it off of the side walk and into my front yard where I would leave it and deal-with-it-later. Later came and went and the tree limb remained. (Missing Limbs) Today I came home from work and to my surprise, the tree limb was gone... not even a note left in its place... Too bad, too. I wanted to expend an inhuman amount of energy trying to use a hand saw to cut it up into less-big, maneuverable pieces... Currently, I'm wondering if one of my neighbors got sick of the blight of my tree branch and took care of it. Either way, it freed me up this evening to play some guitar in anticipation of the Garage to Glory Finals. I know very little about what the finals will entail at this point, but it seems to be that each performer will have 10 minutes of stage time, which equals two songs. I have chosen the second song to play (assuming that I will also play For the First Time) and decided to spice it up a little bit with a brief harmonica solo. (Harmonica) I have been practicing the new solo for about an hour.

And by now you have noticed that I brought together all of the words from the title into my blog post except one. (Erotica) I'm happy to report that I am blogging naked.

In Which I Describe Why Aliens Need To Attack In Order For Me To Find Love and Why I Believe I Can Survive An Alien Attack

2011-04-10T21:14:00.004-04:00

It's ~~late~~... ~~early~~... dark out on Sunday night. I just got threw watching a movie called Monsters. I had seen a preview for it months ago and then read reviews that it was poorly made. The premise of the film is that there are alien beings tromping around in an area in northern Mexico near the United States border. According to the poor reviews, all of the scenes that actually had the aliens in them were shown in the preview and there were only pieces of the aliens shown. In other words, everything is happening off screen.

This was pretty much true of the movie. The aliens were often "off screen," but this didn't take away from the movie at all. It was quite similar to Cloverfield, which I absolutely loved because it focused on the characters and their plight rather than the monster. Similarly, Monsters wasn't at all about the, er... monsters. The aliens were in the background throughout the film and really just provided a reason for the two main characters to be involved with one another.

The movie was mostly about the two people (a ~~boy~~ man and a ~~girl~~ woman) who found themselves together, trying to survive. Which, of course, leads to romance.

And this is what makes it an excellent movie (in my humble opinion).

I really dig films that take two people and force them to become compatible with each other in order to survive. They put aside their differences (usually after discovering that their differences could get them killed) and through the process of working together discover that they love each other.

Thus, leading me to the conclusion that my struggles to find love are due to the fact that there are no alien attacks currently.

According to many a great film, should aliens attack and throw the world into some sort of chaotic militarized cluster fuck, I would find myself thrown into a situation of survival with a small group of people that may or may not include a token black guy and will definitely include at least one really super hot chick.

In order to find myself and the really super hot chick falling in love, all I have to do is survive with said really super hot chick through a climax of events and be rescued.

I think that I can be successful. Here is why:

1. I am not a token black guy (they always seem to die).
2. I am not entirely strong (the muscle heads think they can take on anything and get killed proving themselves).
3. I am not in the army (army guys are often expendable and die by the handful in alien films to show the ruthlessness of the aliens).
4. I am pretty cool under pressure and nothing surprises me anymore (even aliens).
5. I used to play a lot of laser tag and am quite good at ducking and weaving and using a laser gun should I come across one (the hero never starts out with a weapon, but often finds one at a crucial moment and somehow knows exactly how to use it).
6. I'm small enough to hide (or crawl through a tight space) and have an uncanny ability to sneak up on people (or aliens).
7. I'm a musician (not really sure why this will help me survive... but I think it will).
8. I'm a pretty unassuming gentleman if I do say so myself. I'm the 'every man' if you will. And the every man is always the hero who gets the girl.

Monsters ended with the boy and girl kissing and the army rescuing them. However, the film started out with a random convoy of army guys shown through the night vision goggles of one of the army men. Another army guy was talking on a radio stating that they picked up one male and one female and were transporting them back to base. Suddenly, a giant alien appeared out of nowhere and flipped the lead vehicle in the convoy. The army guys stopped and got out of their vehicle and began shooting at the alien. Debris fell on the vehicle and a guy in civilian clothes was seen pulling a girl, also in civilian clothes, out of the vehicle. In the chaos that ensues, the guy and girl are seen again and she appears to be unconscious or dead and the guy is frantically trying to get someone to help him... but, the army guys are distracted, shooting at the alien. And then the scene goes black and title is shown. So, while the movie ends with a budding romance between the main characters, it begins with the possibility that they didn't survive much past their first kiss...

Such. Melancholy. I. Love. It.

Land of the Lost

2011-04-01T20:59:00.002-04:00

Do you ever wonder what happens to the people who disappear from the face of the planet? Not the missing person, FBI is involved, people. The people who you text and talk to on the phone and hang out with on some regular basis, who suddenly stop texting, talking to, and hanging out with you.

I have quite a few people in mind, who -- over the past year or so -- came in to my life for one reason or another, communicated with me regularly for a period of time, and then disappeared...

I like to think that they are all in some purgatory-esque land together where they spend all of their time talking about me...

Girl A: "Whoa... wait a sec. Where am I?"

Girl B: "Hi there. You must be a former of acquaintance, friend, lover, etc. of James Frederick. Welcome to 'James Who? Land.'"

Girl A: "How did I get here?"

Girl B: "Simple. You either stopped returning James' calls or stopped responding when he texted you. There is even one girl here who pretended that she was driving under a bridge and lost her cell reception..."

Girl A: "It's true! James and I went out a few times. We kissed on the second date and it was really sweet! I told him that I had a great time and we texted back and forth for a week. Then he asked me out again..."

Girl B: "What happened next? Was your phone abducted by aliens?"

Girl A: "No. I just told him I was busy, but I didn't suggest another day. He told me to let him know when I was free again because he had a great time. I didn't respond. Then, he texted and called a few times next week and I kept saying that I was super busy! Then, he gave up. And I forgot about him."

Girl B: "A lot of us here have similar stories. I texted James out of the blue one day and we exchanged texts pretty regularly for a week or so. Then we started hanging out. We got together about once a week, but we texted almost every day."

Girl A: "So how did you get here?"

Girl B: "I just stopped texting him back."

Girl A: "Did he eventually give up?"

Girl B: "Of course! Why would he want to continue texting someone who never hangs out with him or texts him back?"

Conversations continue all over this strange purgatory. Sometimes, girls (let's face it: they are all girls) get out of purgatory. For example:

Girl C: "After dating James for a month or so, I decided to put him in the 'friend zone.' We texted a few times after that, but never got together. I didn't text or call James at all and so he stopped texting me. Then, like five months later, James texted me and I decided to respond! He asked if I wanted to get together, but I couldn't so I suggested that we do something that weekend. Well, he texted me back Friday and invited me out that night or Saturday, whichever I was free. I didn't respond!"

There is also some sort of pre-purgatory... for the ones that do text me back (usually the following day), but are never available for actual in-person contact and never initiate texting. They'll end up in regular purgatory eventually.

I imagine that this purgatory is a wonderful place. There are waterfalls and bars and rainbows and horses... there are also lollipops and glistening, shirtless men walking about. The men don't talk (or text) and this is a huge draw to girls who are there. You see, purgatory must be wonderful because the alternative would be to continue to communicate with me.

On that note: how long do you wait before you delete some one's phone number from your address book?

What Are YOUUUU Doing?

2011-03-28T21:28:00.005-04:00

I really should be going to sleep (had to get up early for work today and didn't want to get out bed, and was zombie all day), but -- meh -- I'll sleep when I'm dead. I have important things to blog about.

I spent this past weekend with my brother, his wife, and their lovely 3-month-old, Liliana. She is the cutest thing EVER. This picture is all the evidence necessary to support such a claim:

Okay. Here is another one for good measure.

Lily is a pretty unbelievable 3-month-old. She is incredibly active (when she is awake), moving her arms and legs, wiggling around in her parents' arms or in her bassinet. She is making little cooing noises and when she does it, she stops fussing or moving, looks you directly in the eyes, and "talks" to you. She is the most adorable little person I have ever seen. (*Note: there is a part of me -- the logical part -- that tries to tell the other part of me that I'm only saying such things because she is my niece and if she were just any regular baby I wouldn't give her a second look; but the logical part of me is currently sitting in the naughty corner after having a good talking to from the emotional part of me).

When Lily is put on her play center mat, she looks up at the little smiley face light that blinks on and off and plays music. With determination in her eyes, she wiggles and moves her arms and legs as if she is dancing to the music. It's truly priceless to watch! She enjoys it so much that she will "dance" herself past her nap time and then become cranky at the lack of sleep. (Sounds familiar...)

I have a lot of lovely pictures and video that I took of Lily. I intend to make a video collage sort of thing with movie maker at some point. I also want to print out some pics and put them on my cubicle wall at work. My god... I am so sappy...

--------

A week ago, I auditioned for a song/songwriter contest via timesunion.com put on by the College of St. Rose and the Times Union. Twenty songwriters/songs were chosen and were posted this morning on the Times' website. I discovered this morning by logging on that I am one of those twenty! I'm quite excited about this and got in touch with everyone I know, asking them to vote for my song (the top 10 "vote-getters" move on to the final round).

While I'm truly excited about the opportunity that this contest presents, I'm a disappointed that it is not what it could/should be.

When I went in to audition, I was directed into a performances space to warm up while I waited to be called in. The performances space was beautiful, modern, and had excellent acoustics. There was a spectacular sound system, stage lights, and instruments at the ready. I took my guitar out and began strumming and was impressed with the reverberation I received in the large room.

I was called shortly after and was lead down the hall. I was expecting to be lead into a studio or a another room with great acoustics. I was expecting a microphone and an instrument mic and a quick soundcheck before recording/filming. I thought there might even be two cameras. Instead, I was lead into a small classroom. There was a video camera on a tripod and a stool that was set in front of a white dry-erase board. The college age kid who lead me to the room gave me a quick run down of how he will begin filming me (a count down to three and a silent two and one). There was no microphone... just the mic on the video camera. The countdown began. In introduced myself into the camera, introduced the song, and started playing. I played "For the First Time."

This afternoon was the first time I got to see the video. The sound quality sucks. Then again, it sucks for everyone. I watched the other videos and there are some great songs.

One thing that is somewhat strange about this contest is that the only other songwriter I recognize from the entire group is Rebecca Angel. I have seen her at Caffe Lena's open mic and I have seen her name listed on lots of events listings. I have not seen any of the other songwriters' names anywhere before.

http://blog.timesunion.com/garagetoglory/ is the link to the voting. Have you voted yet?

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I have been posting and complaining in person to many people about being stressed and wanting/needing to take a vacation. Not an adventurous romp around the world trip. A restful, lay on the beach, do nothing, vacation! I have plenty of vacation time available at work, but I really don't have the money to buy a way to get to a relaxing beach-type place.

I'm considering doing a really cheapo resort... I don't care about the service... or the food (as long as there is some sort of food). I just need a beach to lay on... and a pool to swim in if the ocean is scary. Oh, and a bed... and shower... that's it.

Until I find someone to go with on one of these cheapo vacations, I plan adventures. I'm in the process of planning a road trip to Pittsburgh, Cleveland, Detroit, and Niagara Falls. It will be another Hard Rock Cafe Pin Collecting Journey. Mapquest tells me that it's 1280 miles of driving that should take about 22 hours total. I haven't worked out the specifics yet, but there will be sleeping in my car and a possible one or two night hotel stay near Niagara Falls. I will busk on the streets of the cities (as I did last year) and attempt some songwriting. It will one of those soul-searching-type missions of which I will partake in alone. Unless someone pops up in the meantime that cares to join.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch Changes?

2011-03-23T18:45:00.002-04:00

What I really hate about this time of year is the fact that it warms up really nice for a couple of days or a day here and a day there and then goes back to being freezing cold again. The brief warm up does a plethora of strange things to my body including giving it the false sense of knowing that it will continue to get warmER. Now that it's back to being cold again, I'm freezing. The house is the same temperature it was when it was 50 out a week ago, but I'm freezing. It doesn't make sense. And for that, I hate it.

But that is not what this blog is about. This blog is about deciding to make changes to yourself.

I'm going to start with my favorite piece of dating advice EVER: Just Be Yourself.

Be Yourself is my favorite piece of dating advice because it is the worst piece of dating advice that I can possible think of. True, I have used this phrase at times... but over time, I have realized the pointlessness of it and have begun telling friends who are freaking out about dates to "Chill out. You're awesome! And if your date doesn't see it then they suck and they don't deserve someone as awesome as you!" I think both phrases aim to do the same thing (make the freaking-out-person feel that they don't have to try too hard to win over their date, which ultimately puts them at ease).

Hey, I'm freaking out about my date tonight.

Just Be Yourself, yo.

Of course! I mean, I'm me all the time and I don't even have to try, so being myself is really easy!

Super. The problem that I have with people-being-themselves is that certain "parts" of the-way-someone-is isn't so set in stone that it isn't changeable. In other words, people change, they can change, and -- as such -- the person sitting in front of you today isn't exactly the same person that will be sitting in front of you in two weeks.

I recently got into a discussion with some co-workers about changing your self (for lack of a better phrase) when your current self doesn't seem to be getting the job done.

I explained that I had bought a book (the topic doesn't really matter here) about a particular thing that I decided I'd like to learn to do better. In other words, better myself. One of the reactions I received was something along the lines of, "Why do you need to change? Dude, just be yourself."

I think my response at the time was something to tune of, "I have been being myself for quite a while and it hasn't been working. So, the logical thing to do would be to do something different."

In hindsight, I should have said that one facet of myself is to continually improve on things, thus the buying of the book. Which would have been quite true.

However, needing to do something different is also true.

Making a change doesn't necessarily mean doing a complete 180. One can make small changes to one's self without doing a complete overhaul. I mean, we all make mistakes throughout our lives and many of us learn from our mistakes. We avoid going a certain way to work if we always end up behind the same school bus that makes us late. I have learned to stop closing my car door with my hand after getting out of my car because for the last month or so I have been getting an insanely sharp electric shock when doing so. I now pause after getting out of my car and I close the door with my foot. Making a change doesn't always take away from who you are.

Truthfully, I really like who I am. I do continue to make the occassional mistake (which is typically something that comes out of my mouth before I am able to make an assessment about whether I should actually say it that way or in a nicer way). As far as the world of dating is concerned, I cannot figure out why the cell isn't buzzing more often. The self that I am being is certainly my own and as far as self's go, I believe it's a worthwhile one that is deserving of at least a closer look if nothing else. But, if upon that closer look, my self can be a little bit better than it currently is, what's the harm in that?

Mostly Random Thoughts

2011-03-19T12:09:00.002-04:00

I'm in Albany at Uncommon Grounds. It is insanely busy. The line has been out the door since I got here about an hour and a half ago. I'm lucky to have a seat that is near an outlet or else I'd be somewhere else. But, I like Uncommon Grounds, even if it is pretty common for it to be busy.

I had a chocolate mocha (the don't do white chocolate mochas here?!?!) and a bagel and I am stricken with the coffee jitters... yes, the coffee jitters after just one coffee!

Last night I had hung out with a friend who was literally shaking like a leaf and talking non-stop a million miles an hour. As she paced back and forth like a rocket on a leash, she explained that a friend of hers -- who works at a Starbucks -- had given her a triple shot of espresso on top of regular coffee. The sheer amount of caffeine that she in jested is illegal in most states and is the typical dose to energize a sleepy elephant.

My friend did not eventually erupt, or spontaneously explode as expected, but the experience of hanging out with her was quite intense and required a lot of walking fast.

You should need a permit to give out a coffee with that much caffeine...

Two nights ago was open mic as usual. I hosted and it was a pretty good night. Although, the list was quite long and so I kind of rushed through the first 15 or so introductions and didn't really get a chance to engage with the audience. Later on, I realized that it wasn't going to be as late as I had thought earlier, so I slowed things down some and became my usual engaging self. And I had fun. I played, Walls by Tom Petty to open up the night and closed things down with a very low-key version of John Mellencamp's Lonely 'Ol Night. Maurizio inspired me to play the low-key version. At the end of the night, there was only a handful of people hanging around. Maurizio took the opportunity to play a couple of very low-key tunes. It was an intense quiet (if that makes any sense) and it was wonderful. I did my best to channel that in my performance of Lonely 'Ol Night.

Being that this is a coffee place located right near a college, there are A LOT of groups of college chicks coming in. Which means that I am in a sea of sweatpants and Ugg (spelling) boots. It's disturbing... and making me feel incredibly uncomfortable. I feel like if a bomb went off in here right now, and no one survived that the world wouldn't really mind that much... Some might be sad at the loss of Uncommon Grounds... and Caffe Lena will be short one host, but life will otherwise go on... and there will be less sweatpants and Ugg boots (oh, yeah, and those over sized sunglasses) than there were before.

Shame on Uncommon Grounds for allowing such people in their otherwise hipster establishment. Currently the sweatpants to plaid shirt ratio is not in my favor...

And on that note... I'm outta here.

You Can't Always Get What You Want...

2011-03-15T21:45:00.002-04:00

9:45 on a Tuesday Night. In Bed.

I'm in bed this early for a few reasons. 1) there is currently nothing to do in any other area of the house 2) the only things that I should be doing at this time of night can be done on my lap top, which -- of course -- is portable 3) my bed is the warmest place in the house and I'm cold.

I'd really love to be out doing something right now... but it's late-ish and I work in the morning, so I can't really be out and about. I wouldn't mind being out and about, mind you, but there really isn't anyone to be out and about with at this hour and so... it's quite the conundrum, you see.

What I want right now is a tropical island (or just a beach or ocean). I want a plane ride and a hotel room. I want warm sand and cool water. I want some waves. I want fire pits and acoustic music. I want a beach party with or' devours (nachos). I want to feel that humid breeze off the ocean late at night. I want to hold her in my arms and kiss her beneath the moonlight, the sound of waves crashing against the shore is a backdrop to those little smacking noises you get if you kiss properly.

I want a little adventure in my life.

You can't always get what you want, however.

But, if you try sometimes... you might find...

I was really freaking out about two weeks ago when I did my taxes and found out that I will have to pay six hundred and eighty dollars. Then, working out my finances through the end of March, I didn't see how I was going to be able to make the payment. I'm paycheck to paycheck guy right now.

I played with the numbers multiple times, but I am just not getting enough income at the right time to get everything paid.

Feeling pretty downtrodden about the whole money situation was putting me down in the dumps.

However, I decided to play with my financial numbers again. This time, I went all the way up to April 15th, which is the last day you can file your taxes. With an extra paycheck in there, and making a lower payment on my credit card than is usual, I am able to pay all of my bills and the taxes.

Which is, I guess, what I need.

I can't afford to do what I want (ocean, moonlight, or' devours, kissing), but at least I'm getting all of my bills paid on time and I'm able to eat on a regular basis.

However, if anyone wants to take me on an adventure... I do have that credit card...

The Snow and Mother Nature's Evil Plot to Destroy Me... Oh, and Also a Video

2011-02-25T16:22:00.004-05:00

I am lying on my bed in a heap of exhaustion after cleaning out the six plus inches from my driveway.

It is still snowing...

I'm tired and angry that mother nature is out to destroy me and my personal life. True, I kicked her ass and defied her many a time before. And while I won the battle of my driveway for now, I have resolved myself to give up on my plans for tonight.

All this week, I have been looking forward to today. Railbird and Sean Rowe dual CD release show in Albany. Not only was I totally looking forward to this show (Railbird has a pretty engaging sound and Sean Rowe recently reached a huge musician milestone by getting signed by a pretty big label), but I was also meeting up with someone who I had also met up with the week before.

Are you happy mother nature? You got me. Now, you owe me big time. How about a little sunshine sooner than expected?

I am so tired of winter and so desperately in need of some sunshine that I bought a car air freshener that smells like sun tan lotion... My car now smells like summer time at the beach...

Last night at open mic I played a new song I wrote, which is partly inspired by pictures of a tropical beach that someone sent to me. It is called Some Kind of Dream and the narrator essential closes his/her eyes and when they open them, they are on a tropical island and someone is there showing them sea shells and coconuts and whatever. There is a lot of imagery of the tropical beach setting, which was inspired by the pictures. The rest of the story is pretty much made up.

Here is a video of the song:

Here are the words:

The sun rises on the horizon
As shadows recede from the beach
Waves wash away the impressions
Made from our wandering feet

I was stuck in a rut when I shut my eyes
I awoke standing here in the sand
A tropical sun, island paradise
And you were there taking my hand

We met, you and I, on this island
In the middle of some kind of dream
Tell me, did I dream you?
Or was it you who had dreamed me?

You showed me a collection of sea shells
And we drank from a coconut piece
I asked if I was under some spell
You turned and you whispered to me

We met, you and I, on this island
In the middle of some kind of dream
Tell me, did I dream you?
Or was it you who had dreamed me?

At some point we’ll have to say we’re done
And allow an end to this dream
For now we’ll just lie watching the sun
Slip slowly into the sea

We met, you and I, on this island
In the middle of some kind of dream
Tell me, did I dream you?
Or was it you who had dreamed me?

Open mic was pretty sweet. It was a packed house. Barely standing room only! It was a one song night, but it didn't feel as rushed as one song nights often feel. There were a lot of great performances. I sold a handful of CDs, which was pretty wonderful and received some great compliments. At the end of the night, Kate Blain let me play a song to end things. I played For the First Time and had everyone singing along. I continue to get great feedback on the song.

Here is a video of For the First Time:

You'll have to listen to the words... sorry :)

Be Mine

2011-02-15T09:30:00.003-05:00

Be Mine. Be. Mine. Two words. Two. Simple. Words. One heavy statement, with only one meaning, but several different implications.

Be Mine. When ended with a period is not a question. "Be Mine?" as a question seems innocent and somewhat shy. It can easily be turned down and/or ignored. "Be Mine." on the other hand is direct and commanding. As a command -- it's not something that can be turned down with a simple "no thanks." It's not being asked; it's being told. But what about "be mineee" (note: there are several extra 'e's and no punctuation)? The extra 'e's indicate an urgent need, a plea, if you will. "I need you to be mine."

Be Mine = Belong to Me.

But what does it mean to belong to someone? Is it different with different people? Is belonging to one person a totally different situation than belonging to someone else? Of course it is. And therein lies the trouble with it.

Belonging to one person may require you to do things and be places that you don't like to do or go. Belonging to someone else may require very little of you. Belonging to person A may be like wearing heavy chains, restricting you from being you. While belonging to person B may be very fulfilling and you find that not only do you belong to that person, but they belong to you as well.

And so, the ultimate question involved here is what do you say when you receive a text late on the night before Valentine's Day?

be mineee

Idle Idols

2011-02-05T11:04:00.004-05:00

I have been speaking my mind a lot lately about American Idol. Since the new season started a few weeks ago (*note: I wouldn't even know it had started if it weren't for the cornucopia of facebook comments that my friends post about it) I have been making comments via facebook and face to face conversations. Because I've been so vocal about it, I have been getting a lot of crap about my thoughts and opinions on the show from friends. In response to that, I've decided to write a detailed blog entry as a sort of one-stop shop of everything I've said about American Idol and also to respond to comments that friends have made about what I've said in order to sum everything up in a clear and somewhat concise matter. It's kind of like an essay...

Firstly, I hate American Idol. Let's just get that out there. I hate reality television with a passion, really. I used to enjoy Road Rules and some Real World back when the people on the show were actually acting somewhat real. However, reality television over the years has bounded away from any sort of sensible reality and has become just more pre-scripted entertainment with pseudo-actors. (Anyone who thinks that these reality TV shows are just collecting random people off the street and putting them on these programs needs a reality check: these shows put out casting calls and people trying out for the show have to go through the same process that any actor has to go through to win a part. Also, many reality programs are looking for certain "types" to fill certain roles in the show. Which -- ultimately -- is not what happens in reality.)

When I first saw an advertisement (what seven/eight years ago?) for American Idol when it first came out, I rolled my eyes and sighed heavily. I knew it was going to create waves in popular music. Although, by the end of the first season, I was shocked to see the monster that it had become. People really liked the concept and -- even worse -- they like the music that the winner created. Overly produced pop love songs polluted the radio.

Don't get me wrong. I see the draw to one of the concepts of the show. A concept of which I can actually follow. It starts with a number of "contestants." They show clips of each persons back story. You get to know these people on TV and sort of develop a relationship with them as you watch their trials and tribulations of working towards the ultimate dream: to be come famous. As a viewer, you really get to be a part of their quest. You get to participate in their dream when they do achieve it at the end of the season. I can certainly understand why someone would become invested and excited about this. I remember watching Star Search when I was a kid...

There is also another concept: the contest. Singers are handed a microphone, given a backing track (or band), and are told to sing. They sing a catchy pop song. Sometimes they know the song. Other times, they do not and they get to read the words. Is their any denying that singing along to a backing track while reading the words isn't Karaoke? i don't think you can back up the argument that American Idol isn't Karaoke. I don't care how great of a singer you are, this is karaoke kids. American Idol is a glorified Karaoke contest.

Please understand that I have nothing against karaoke contests... In fact, I love karaoke! I have seen some amazing singers sing at karaoke events. I love singing cheesy pop songs and acting like a nut in front of people... It's fun. I like to make a set list. We should all go sometime... But, can we please make a deal and start calling an apple an apple? American Idol is Karaoke.

The problem I have with glorified karaoke, is that it makes music into a contest. True, I am familiar with Battle of the Bands and other talent shows where judges or viewers are involved in deciding which one is best. However, I have grown to dislike these events. Yes, I understand that a winner of a battle of the bands can receive money, recording packages, equipment, etc. And that is all good for the band. My problem with the contest concept is this: Why does it take a contest (a "battle," a "war," pitting one against the other) to get people to show up and watch/listen to this stuff? Do we love war that much that we need non-soldiers to fight in order to enjoy it? Why does it have to be a fight? Why can't we just go out to enjoy music? Do we not enjoy music? We need another element to entertain us? "Hey, let's go to a battle of the bands!" "Sorry, dude, I'm against war. But, I'd love to attend a band showcase!"

This brings me to my next problem with American Idol: I have many friends who post quite a lot on facebook and in blogs or talk about in conversations about their favorite contestant. They talk about them as if they are people they know. As I said earlier, I understand the draw to the concept of joining along with these people on their musical journey to become famous. But, if you love this concept so much and want to be a part of these people's lives, why are you not going out to see live music in your area? Why are you not supporting local musicians? I said on facebook that you can get behind some random chick from North Platte, Nebraska that you'll never meet in person, but you haven't once gone to see your facebook friend who lives in the same town as you play a show. I just don't understand how this is possible. American Idol on TV easily consumes 4 to 5 plus hours of your life a week (it's on TV for like 3 and then you spend time talking about it). You can't spend 2 hours a month at an open mic? Or even a half an hour once every four months at a local musician/facebook friend's coffee house gig?

Many of my friends have made the statement that they can't make it out that often due to other responsibilities. I hear ya. I do. I decline invites to friends' shows often enough. But, I do get out there on a regular basis.

Honestly, though, you can't go out once a month to do something you supposedly enjoy? (In other words, you like music and musicians enough. You must enjoy it.) If you like it, why aren't you making time to go out and see it? You make the time to watch it on TV.

Another comment that I get a lot from friends is that I only complain about American Idol because I'm jealous. Not in the fucking least people. News Flash: The winner of American Idol is not the end all and be all to rock stardom. It's definitely not the goal of a true musician. Speak to one, they'll open you up to a whole world that American Idol barely scratches the surface of. And this may come as a shock, but, many of us are not in it for rock stardom, money, or fame. Most of us do it to play music because we love music and/or it is such a huge part of who we are that we would be lost without it. There is a lot more to music/songwriting/performing than getting on TV.

Would I love to be a famous rock star who everyone talks about, blogs about, and dreams about? Yes. I would. Do I need to enter contests to get there? No. I don't. And neither do any other musicians. Before American Idol, would be rock stars played music in clubs and bars. Songwriters played at open mics. They put in the time in the trenches -- so-to-speak -- and they worked at their skills on stages. They earned fame and fortune the hard way by putting in the work. They did not enter glorified karaoke contests. And they certainly did not pollute the sanctity of their music by showing up on reality TV.

As far as the jealousy aspect is concerned, I cannot express to you how little jealousy plays in my thoughts and feelings about this television show. Let me try to help you understand this. The excitement that I get when playing at Caffe Lena's open mic night every week is something that I cannot even begin to explain. I play on the same stage that Bob Dylan played on when he was an up and comer. He most likely played early renditions of songs that show up on all of his greatest hits collections. Ani Difranco played multiple shows at Caffe Lena. G Love and Special Sauce played there while attending college in Saratoga Springs. Allegedly, "American Pie" was first played for an audience in the very room that I play my own songs in for the first time. This may sound like it's not a big deal to you. I did warn you that I wouldn't be able to explain it.

As far as I know, no one on any reality television show has played anywhere near Caffe Lena. You say that someone on TV critiqued your karaoke skills? I should be jealous of that? You should be jealous that I host open mic night at the very place that contributed greatly to the 60's folk movement. You should be jealous that I get to share songs with amazing songwriters and receive honest feedback from people who have won awards for their writing. I have had nationally touring songwriters tell me that they enjoyed my writing.

Speaking of feedback... Another problem that I have with American Idol is the critiques. Come on viewers... read between the lines here. The comments they make are for entertainment purposes. They are actors and they are acting. It isn't real. It isn't reality. Most of the critiques are just arbitrarily made comments to kill time and keep the viewer tuned in. They say things purposely to keep you watching, not because they feel/think/or care about what they actually feel or think. It's fake! Like the third love of my life said so eloquently on an MTV awards show: "This World is Bullshit!" And Fiona Apple is one hundred percent right.

How do you feel about watching a world of bullshit? How do you feel that you invest so much of yourself in it? Do you feel good about it?

"Well," you might say, "Chill out. I know it's only entertainment. It's mostly harmless fun."

Understood. It's your thing. I have plenty of guilty pleasures that I allow to take up my time: for instance, I like to blast Pat Benatar while cleaning and sing at the top of my lungs and play air guitar with the swiffer duster... we're all entitled to it. And I definitely respect those who will admit to their guilty pleasures. I even dated a girl who said she watched American Idol (true, it didn't last, but it didn't have to do with the show). She admitted it was stupid and she was insanely cute... but that's beside the point.

So, watch away... I don't even mind tongue in cheek comments about the show. It's the week after week devotion to American Idol and continuous lack of interest in actual working musicians that kills me and prompted my confrontational stand point.

Another thing I hear from friends (and I'm hoping they are joking) is that I "suck" and so they don't come to see me play. Maybe they have watched my crappy videos online, or I have brought my guitar to work or a friend's place some time. Firstly, you are allowed to your opinion. And I admit whole-heartedly that I have a long way to go before I'm where I would like to be. I am not a very strong singer, but I'm improving. My harmonica skills are sub-elementary at best and my guitar playing style is pretty standard. I'm definitely not breaking any new ground. So, if you don't like what I'm doing, I'm okay with it; but, there are plenty of amazing performing musicians in this area that deserve your attention and you've never heard of them. There is really no excuse not go out and see someone play live locally.

And that is what this entire post is about. Get out and see local music. Support local musicians on their musical endeavors. We are every where. There are between 2 and ten open mics going on within driving distance from my house every night of the wee. Come along with me sometime. I typically only go on Thursdays, but I'll hit up a different open mic from time to time and if I have a companion it makes it a special occasion to do something different. Uncomfortable about going to see a local band? I'll go with you. I love going out to see live music! I'll even attend a *blah* Battle of the Bands (although, I'll call it a showcase the entire time).

I'm sure I'll continue to spout off about American Idol via facebook and face to face conversations. I won't apologize for it. We are all entitled to our opinions.

Consider it my "war" (if you can't beat 'em, join 'em). I'm fighting back the flood of comments by facebook friends and face to face friends stating that they are watching or will be watching or watched American Idol and such and such happened or they really like so and so and dislike someone else. My hope is that my comments, while initially fueled by hate, open up some eyes and perhaps shed some light on what else is out there.

Site Updates

2011-02-03T17:52:00.002-05:00

I updated some of my website. It's mostly just aesthetics, but it gives it a whole new feel. Who am I kidding? It just looks a little different. I changed some fonts, made a couple new graphics. And now I'm heading to open mic...

Is it 2012 yet?

2011-01-25T19:11:00.002-05:00

It's almost the end of January (2011) and I am just now getting around to blogging about last year. (See last year's end of year post).

I'm in bed on a cold night. I have the heating pad under my sheets turned up and I'm quite warm. I did some chores before ending up here... there are many more chores to be done, but blogging feels like the right thing to do... or am I just procrastinating?

I re-read last year's end of the year post and found it to be rather blase. I was in a blah sort of mood, I guess. In 2009, I didn't accomplish a lot... things ended... life goes on...

2010 was really sort of the same... there wasn't anything super exciting that stands out... except for right at the end when I found out that my baby niece, Liliana was born!

2010 was mostly filled with little moments. The road trip to DC and back was pretty fun. I played a LOT on the streets of Saratoga (and in the cities between here and DC). I made a LOT of new friends. I went out a lot. I stayed busier than I have in past years. However, I only wrote a couple decent songs... I recorded them at home and put together a new demo disc... I sold twenty-five or so. I played at RailFest in Gloversville. I learned a bunch of new cover songs and made them my own. I saw a lot of great bands this past year in clubs and whatnot, but I didn't buy any tickets to see any more mainstream acts. I drank more alcohol in the past year than I have in my whole life previous. I've been sick a few times. I had to pay in on my taxes (again), which means I still can't afford to go into a studio with an engineer and make a CD.

A few positives are that I was able to save some money. I ditched cable and spend my time doing better things than watching TV (although, it's been really cold lately and I've been hibernating for most of 2011). I painted quite a bit of my house.

A few negatives: I didn't get to see the ocean at all in 2010. A good friend of mine lost her marbles and "deleted me." Relationships started and seemed to be going well then ended abruptly.

2011 has started out pretty well. Of course, I visited my new niece! My car finally got to that point where it wanted to retire... so I bought a new one (hatchback for easy loading and unloading of musical gear and four-door for multiple people to ride comfortably).

I'm looking forward to spring time... I'm hoping to be able to take a vacation somewhere. I have loads of time saved up at work and could easily road-trip it somewhere. I'd really like to take a cruise or visit an exotic beach locale. I am really in need of time off. Work is stressing me out and it's been way to long since I took some time for myself. Weekends are great, but they aren't long enough -- and if you try to cram everything you want to do into a weekend, then you probably aren't relaxing.

Speaking of relaxing, I'm giving up on the thought of doing any more chores tonight. I'm thinking movie and bed.

1/1/11

2011-01-01T23:02:00.003-05:00

One, one, one-one.

It's just about 11:11 (PM) on 1/1/11. Which is throwing my tired mind into a complete numerological tail spin... Should I make a wish? Should I send an annoying twitter post about it, so my friends can ridicule me later? Should I just forget about it all together?

Last night, of course, was New Year's Eve. And it was a freaking blast. I have to say it was one of the better parties that I've ever attended. A few of us made and brought food (I did this cream cheese and olive roll-thing, which took about an hour to make). Some brought champagne. Everyone was in a pretty super mood. Oh yeah... and we all dressed up -- which was absolutely excellent! It was a great end to 2010, but was not the greatest of great things that occurred at the end of the year.

On 12/30/2010, while on lunch break with co-workers, I received the most exciting news ever via text message from my brother, Josh: "Liliana James. 5lbs 5ounces. Born 12/30 1pm." Thus, I became an uncle.

I can't really describe in words the way I am feeling about the being-an-uncle thing. I also can't figure out why I'm so incredibly sappy over this beautiful little baby. Pictures make me cry... I want to touch her and talk to her. I have never had these sort of feelings over other babies, though... in fact, I typically find it annoying when people respond this way over other babies. I have held other babies... a nephew-in-law and a niece-in-law. Didn't feel a thing. Couldn't wait to give them back to someone else... I guess it's different because this niece is my niece... and I'm actually the only uncle. Wow. I just realized that... I've got a serious role to play...

The best text message in the world that I have ever received came from my brother after I asked him, "Is everyone doing all right?" a few hours after I had learned about the birth. He texted: "Everyone is great. Jenn is eating a cheeseburger and Lily is sleeping on me..." awwwwwww... tears... sap.

Being that this development occurred on a Thursday, I got to talk about it on stage at open mic. Of course, I dedicated my songs to the new babe. I played, "Breaking Free," which does not have anything to do with babies or being-an-uncle or anything like that... but I do think the thoughts in the song convey good uncley advice.

Here are the lyrics:
Once a little girls was tying her shoe lace,
but a mask of confusion consumed her little face.
And it takes too much time when you fail to succeed.
So, she kicked off her shoes and ran around in bare feet.

For the sake of breaking free. For the chance just to be.

So, she dances and sings and the sun shines,
but she hides like a child when it gets in her eyes.
So, she runs away. She runs to the shade. (Last night I sang:She runs to uncle James)
And then, once again, she is able to play.

For the sake of breaking free. For the chance just to be.

Well, it can't always be a story book day.
As sure as the sun comes up, it does go away.
And times will get tough, but times will be fun.
You live only once, make the most of the sun.

For the sake of breaking free. For the chance just to be.

I followed that up with "For the First Time," which is about a new beginning, and so it applies quite well.

The chorus is:
"I'm stepping outside
for the first time
in a long time."

I started the song out really low-key -- playing and singing lightly -- but built it up slightly. After singing the chorus once, and then the second verse, I said, "It's pretty easy, right? You guys can sing along." And the audience joined me on the chorus. Directly after the second chorus, the bridge comes in. I built it up a little more, held out the last note of the bridge, and dived right into the last chorus with louder strumming and full out vocals. The audience continued to sing along and I had one of those out of body experience where you feel like you are watching yourself perform and it's good.

I got some nice compliments after finishing it up.

It was a great open mic to end the year with. Really great friends and really great songs. Jennifer Holmes was in town and played one of her most lovely songs. Victoria Bouffard was there and has been attending regularly -- her songs are always pretty. Maurizio literally owned Rocket Man, while wearing Victoria's shiny jacket.

After open mic ended, I really wanted to spend time with Jenn while she was in town. Instead, I had to get home and get some sleep. Friday (New Year's Eve) was a busy day.

I woke up early and did some cleaning around the house, laundry, dishes, etc. Then I did some major cleaning of my car and headed down to Albany to Lia Honda to test drive a new (well, "pre-owned") vehicle. I did that, fell in love with the young saleswoman that rode along with me on the test drive, but didn't buy the car because it was the base model and I think I can get the sport model from another dealer.

I then headed to the mall to find some classy clothes for the party. This is what I ended up with:

I absolutely love the jacket. I wish it was a full out tux, though. I got it at H&M at Crossgates in Albany. They had a few variations on the style, but no pants to match. Sad, really. But it matched the fedora quite well. (I am also very much proud of myself for dressing me up in such a way that resulted in multiple compliments from just about everyone at the party).

The night ended around 2:30 for everyone except a few of us. I ended up on the couch and drifted in and out of consciousness while my friends discussed politics and finished off the last bottle of champagne. I recall developing devils-advocate-like arguments and other thoughts to some of the talking points I overheard, but I'm not too sure I vocalized any of them in a coherent manner or at all...

Anyways, 2010 went out with a bang. Lots of last minute excitement to what was actually quite an exciting year. However, it's now just about 1/2/11 and, so, I'm going to call it a night and do my yearly end-of-year blogging another day.

A Very Merry Open Mic

2010-12-24T00:33:00.002-05:00

It's 12:30am and it's officially December 24th. Thus, it's the night before the night before Christmas. In about seven hours, I have to wake up, wrap presents, pack, and drive my butt to New Hampshire for Christmas. And, as such, I should be sleeping.

However, I just came from the Christmas edition of Open Mic Night at Caffe Lena and it was quite possibly the best Open Mic of my life.

First off, all five current open mic hosts were present and all performed. This is a rare occurrence! Luckily, we documented the occasion with a photograph at the end of the night. I really admire the songwriting capabilities of the other hosts: Gary Moon, Kate Blain, Ray "Rainman" Pashoukos, and Willie the Moak. It's really an honor to be among them. Sharing the stage with them all for the photo was really excellent!

At one point during the night, I was smiling warmly while listening to a Christmas song performed by an open miker. I turned around to see who was coming in the door and (I'm sure) my eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. Casey and Dave (of Almost Awake) were there! Best Christmas present EVER! Casey and Dave are wonderful friends with just plain lovely personalities. They are the type of people that you just can't get enough of and you wished you lived with them or they with you. It's been a while since I have seen them last... and there they were.

After hugs, I got the idea to have them join me on one of my songs. I then decided I should find someone to play some lead guitar first... I asked Mark Stewart if he wanted to and he said he would. We went in the back room to rehearse, but after a few run-throughs of the chord progression -- *SNAP* -- Mark breaks a string. So, I asked another friend, David Fey, if he wanted to try some lead work. He did and it sounded great. Casey sang back up vocals and Dave (Shaver of Almost Awake) played Djimbe. Casey (being the wonderful and fun person that she is) noticed a triangle on the wall of the room that we were rehearsing in. She played a few tings and I asked her to bring it on stage. We played Frozen and it sounded absolutely beautiful. Casey's back up vocals were spot on and I didn't even give her any direction. Dave surprised me by doing a little egg shaker thing and then bringing the djimbe in and it was perfect. David's lead work was simple, but spot on. And, of course, the triangle was just what a triangle needs to be!

I do hope that there were some pictures taken... I wish there was some video taken... It was truly a moment that one can only dream about and as I lay here in bed, I wish I could relive it!

I was so overwhelmed after the song that I couldn't find the right rhythm for my next song. I made a joke about my birthday being on Christmas and a girl in the audience cheered and said that her birthday is also Christmas! Then, out of nowhere, there is a flame that is attached to a candle that is sticking out of a cookie that is being handed to me (on stage) by Anna Millhouser and Laura Joy. There is also the singing of Happy Birthday.

I started to blow out the candle, but the flame died on its own as I took a breath. The more I think about it, though, I don't think I could have come up with a wish at that point that would surpass the wonderfulness of playing with Almost Awake and just being surrounded by such wonderful people for the holiday.

And it's now 1am... Right. To sleep. Much wrapping and packing and driving tomorrow in order to surround myself with more wonderful people!

What a freaking super Christmas so far!

Why Not Blog?

2010-12-07T12:41:00.003-05:00

I am home sick from work today. I woke up at the usual time, felt like I had been hit by a truck, and made the easy decision to call my supervisor. I forced myself out of bed to make the call, which prompted the cat to remind me that it's her breakfast time; so, I went down stairs, fed her, and started looking for my humidifier. I found it and got it going as quickly as possible. Then, I passed out in my bed again for about three and a half hours. I awoke feeling MUCH better than I had. The dryness of the air must have done a number to my sinuses. That combined with the somewhat busy weekend I had being on call for work really beat me up.

Now that I'm feeling among the living, I thought I'd blog.

Before logging in to write, I usually glance at my website's homepage and scan the most recent twitter messages and my previous blog. The top two "tweets" and the blog this time around were pretty negative in nature. Some might even say they are "scathing." In my latest tweet, I state that "talkers (at open mic) should have their tongues cut out," and in the latest blog entry, I rip irresponsible pet owners a-new-one.

Both the tweet and the blog have illicited some responses from friends and acquantances in regards to the angry words.

It's true. They are angry words. And there is certainly no use of a "filter" in either the tweet or blog.

And, truly, that's the way it should be.

Ladies and Gentlemen. The blog and the tweets... they are full to the brim of opinion. Not fact. And we are all entitled to our own opinions.

They are also blatant exaggerations of actions that I don't even intend to take (for example: I'm not actually going to cut anyone's tongue out). I was mad at the talkers. I stated in jest that they "should have their tongues cut out."

If I intended to cut someones tongue out, I don't think I would post it for the world to know... or would I?

Truth is, I vent on the blog at times. It's therapeutic. And rather than just complain to a friend or two, I throw my thoughts and feelings into a blog so other people who might share a frustraction can commisserate with me. Misery loves company. Consider it another purpose for the blog: to find more miserable people when I'm miserable. And also to find more happy people when I'm happy. To find more awesome people... because I'm awesome.

So, please don't think my scathing irrate blogs are illustrations of my intent to harm or maim. Rather, just to share my thoughts and feelings in a fun and somewhat disturbing way.

Peacefully yours,
JF

-----

And here is a picture of my house docorated for Christmas!

Dear Irresponsible Pet Owners

2010-11-22T20:26:00.002-05:00

A pair of my shoes are laying off to the side of the road somewhere between exit 24 and 25 on the New York State Thruway. "How did they end up there?" You might ask...

Friday night, I went out in Albany. I attended a concert of local bands at Valentine's, had a few drinks, etc. Sometime around 11, I realized I wasn't having as good of a time as I had hoped and I decided to leave. Once outside of the music venue, I started giggling at the fact that I-wasn't-having-such-a-good-time, which caused me to ascertain that I was quite ready to drive home. On top of that I was hungry, so I went in search of pizza.

There happened to be a pizza place right next to Valentine's, which was great for the case of the munchies that I had, but not so much for walking off the booziness. So, I walked up the street to Madison. On my way to Madison, I encountered a group of people standing in front of some stone steps. Someone was making their way through the group and, as I approached, blocked my way. I kindly stepped back to allow the person to pass...

I knew it as soon as I stepped back. Instead of feeling hard cement under by foot, I felt soft gooshiness. Playdoh? Doubtful. Dog shit? Highly likely.

Sure enough. It was dog shit... and a million curses went through my mind.

Pissed off, I made my way through the group and on to Madison. I attempted to scrape the shit off my shoe on the curb while I waited for the light to change. I left a good sized dollop on the curb and continued across the street to the Washington Park where I attempted to get the rest of it off my shoe by running it through the grass. It was a mostly pointless act.

At this point, I am cursing dogs and dog owners. I am looking around for a dog to kill, skin, and wear on my right foot. I am considering knocking on doors and rubbing my shit shoe in people's faces yelling, "Does this smell like your dog's shit?!" I am composing a very offensive letter/blog entry in my somewhat buzzed mind to dog owners, their dogs, and their families about what I intend to do to them, their dogs, and their families...

... all of which is quite facetious, but generally therapeutic.

I do, however, have some choice words for irresponsible pet owners -- clean up your pet's shit when it uses public people places as a toilet. If you don't want to clean it up, don't get a pet. Or don't take it for walks outside of your backyard. It can shit all it wants in your back yard. But sidewalks are for people. Not shit. And, as such, things that just randomly take a shit need to be closely monitored when they are on sidewalks.

Honestly, I'm not a fan of dogs. Especially, the bigger ones. They smell. They are annoying. And people treat them like they are their children. Which is something that I find somewhat on the verge of c r a z y. I dislike big dogs with breed names like Pit bull, Rottweiler, etc. I believe that certain breeds should require a permit to own as a pet. I'm grossed out by people who wrestle with their dogs, sleep in the same bed as their dogs, kiss their dogs on the lips... I don't like being invited over to some one's house where I have to spend more time giving attention to the dog than to the person who I came to see. When a dog jumps all over me when I walk in a house and the dog's owner says, "He (or she) likes you!" I want to show them how much I DON'T feel the same way towards their dog. Dog tongues are the worst part of a dog, next to their wet noses, and general dog smell. Big dogs like to knock me over, which causes me to want to kick dogs... I cover my crotch with my hands whenever I am in a house that also has a dog. Typically, if there is a dog in the house, I can't wait to leave the house. Loud, random barks frighten me.

But, I understand why people do like dogs and why they keep them as pets. I adopted a cat (quite different from a dog, but still a pet) last year because I live alone and my house felt empty. Dogs become part of a family. They are loyal. Their excitement can lift a person's feelings. People with dogs have lots of inside jokes with other people who have dogs, which is great for socializing. You can play Frisbee with some dogs on the beach (which, at one point, is something I really wanted to do).

After my cursing out the world of dogs and their owners, I wandered back down to the pizza place. I ordered a slice and ate it while walking back to my car. I couldn't shake the feeling that my right foot was somehow contaminated and may have even walked with a slight limp. Back at my car, I finished the pizza and headed home.

Maybe the slight and fading buzz that I had made me forget about the dog shit. Maybe there were good songs on the radio to lift my spirits. Maybe it was the yummy pizza. But, by the time I hit the Thruway, I wasn't upset at dogs anymore.

Then, I caught a whiff. I had my heat on a low level because it was cold. Well, the heater was baking the shit that was on my right shoe.

Cruise control was on, so I reached down and slipped the offended against shoe off my foot. I rolled down the window and without hesitation tossed it. About another minute down the road I started wondering why I was keeping the left shoe, since it wasn't going to do me any good without the right one. I slipped it off my foot and tossed it as well.

There is an irresponsible pet owner who walks his/her dog near Valentine's in Albany. And they owe me a new pair of Skechers.

Christmas Morning

2010-10-27T20:43:00.002-04:00

It's Wednesday night... what an odd time to blog, right? Typically on any given Wednesday at this time, I'm watching some TV or a movie and possibly doing some chores around the house. I'm not doing either of those things right now (though, I really should clean some more since I *gasp* have a girl coming over to the house Saturday...). I worked late, am still in my work clothes, and I feel kind of perplexed.

First, some hilarity from work. Sometimes my job requires me to ride in a police car (with a police person, of course). I get to ride in the front seat, which -- I would imagine -- is a lot less conspicuous than riding in the back seat. This particular time, I was with a Sheriff and we were leaving Schenectady (for reasons that have to do with my job and which I shall not discuss at this time). While stopped at a light, a vehicle pulled up next to us (on the passenger side) and the driver indicated that I should roll down my window. I did and the driver said, "Hey guys, a couple blocks back there was just an accident. It's a six car pile up. You need to check it out." I said, "Thank you kind citizen..." (I really didn't say that). The Deputy said, "We'll check it out. Thanks." If you'll notice, I was completely included in this "check(ing) it out" as he stated "we'll" do it and just "I'll" do it. So, I felt -- somewhat -- like part of the police force. The Deputy put his lights on and the siren and cars pulled out of our way and he gunned it through the crowd of cars at the light, did a speedy u-turn, and gunned it back up the road while more cars pulled off to the side and out of our way. Meanwhile, I'm holding on for dear life thinking "This is freaking awesome!" Then he gets to the accident scene and gets out of the car and starts doing his thing (taking statements, assessing damage and safety, etc.). I sit there patiently waiting, while the lights on the car continue to flash, and cars drive by slowly. Some drivers notice me sitting in the police car with a polite smile on my face. I make eye contact with them and they look at me with strange looks.
A W K W A R D...

Eventually, the local police arrive and the Deputy (from a completely different county mind you) comes back to the car and we head back to where we were going.

Ok. So it wasn't a hilarious story, but you tell me about the time you were in a police car and got to rush to a scene with lights flashing and sirens blaring!

----

Right. On to me-being-perplexed. It's almost Halloween and I am happily excited! Because it's Hall-o-freakin-ween! I love Halloween. Always have. I love the opportunity to design my clothing to look as if I'm not who I actually am. I like going out where there are other people doing the same thing. I like drinking and acting like I'm not who I actually am. I like talking about what I'm going to be wearing. I like talking about what other people are wearing. I like going up to people dressed like (some character from some movie or TV show, etc.) and saying "(some line that the aforementioned character would recognize from the movie or TV show etc.)" I like seeing really well-done costume jobs and praising those who created them. I like laughing at people who are lame with their costumes because they are uncreative and they clearly suck.

This year, I'm especially in my element because last week I dressed up in zombie attire and walked with a bunch of other like-minded weirdos for a "Zombie Walk" -- which, if you look up on Wikipedia -- is a new "thing" that is gaining in popularity across the country. My friend Bill and I both dressed up and did our best with our make up, blood, and costumes. We attended a Zombie Prom afterwards, though we didn't stay long.

This weekend, I will be dressing up for Halloween twice more. Friday with some co-workers. And Saturday with my core group of friends and the aforementioned girl that is coming over. I'm so excited! THREE DRESS UPS IN ONE YEAR! GLEE!

Some people, however, are not as excited about Halloween as I am and this completely perplexes me. I feel somewhat like the kid in elementary school who sits down next to a Jewish kid at lunch and says excitedly, "Did you write Santa your letter?! I asked for a PS3!" And the Jewish kid says, "I f*cking hate you."

However, Halloween is a secular holiday... or is that non-secular? (I get the two confused) There is no religion associated with it. Some historians may say differently, but -- you know what? -- Halloween has become an "American" holiday and doesn't have anything to do with religion anymore. Much like Christmas and Easter...

Truthfully, I don't see what there is not to like about Halloween. Then again, there are haters everywhere you go and even people who hate other specific holidays. For example, I hate Easter. I hate the plastic crap and the baskets and pastel colors. Not to mention the concept of a bunny rabbit (of all things) that delivers you stuff is incredibly pointless and stupid. Some will argue that on Easter we gather to celebrate the resurrection of Christ -- which is another concept that I find to be incredibly pointless and stupid.

But I digress...

I'd rather celebrate Halloween than any other holiday (Even though, Halloween is not technically a "holiday"). Christmas is great, in that I get to see my family and spend some time with them, but it's never on Christmas and the "magic" so-to-speak of what Christmas is all about is gone. Christmas is also my birthday and because of the nature of how most people spend Christmas (with their families), I am forced (due to those circumstances) to spend my birthday alone. That leaves Thanksgiving, which I love because of the turkey and other wonderful food things. However, I am jaded about the intent of the holiday and the misrepresentation on what happened between colonists and Native Americans and the BS that we are lead to believe in history class...

So, to recap: Easter is stupid, Christmas is magic-less, my Birthday is lonely, and Thanksgiving is the raping and murdering of people who WERE HERE FIRST!

Which leaves Halloween! AND I GET TO DRESS UP THREE TIMES!

Sometimes I Feel Like Superman

2010-10-10T21:29:00.002-04:00

Bob Schneider has a song in which he says, "Sometimes I feel like Superman; sometimes I'm just recuperating." And said line applies so often in my life that I feel it should be my motto or creed or disclaimer for poor performance ("I saved the world yesterday... and as such, I'm taking things easy today. So, no -- I'm not done with that report yet.").

Today, Sunday (10/10/10 -- mind you!) -- and most likely tomorrow, as well -- I'm recuperating. In fact, as today has wore on, I have felt more and more like I'm 90 years old or something. My body... aches... for lack of a better word. Yesterday, I mowed the lawn and trimmed some bushes using hedge clippers. There was one branch of a lilac bush that was tall and I attempted to cut it off at about my height. I lifted the clippers above my head and chopped as hard as I could muster (it was a thick-ish branch). Something in my shoulder "popped" or "snapped." I can't really be sure which it was because I was mostly distracted by the pain that I suffered simultaneously to sound. I believe I dislocated my shoulder because I couldn't support the weight of the hedge clippers with my right arm (the one that "popped" or "snapped" or "crackled" -- haha). I'm still in pain today and am attempting to not-use-that-arm-as-much-as-possible, which is IMpossible when you love playing guitar and need that arm to strum. (In case you are wondering, yes – it hurts to strum).

Earlier today, I did a lot of walking (not really "a lot" in the sense that I eventually found myself crawling and/or laying down to die due to the amount of walking; "a lot" in the sense that it was more-walking-than-I'm-typically-used-to-doing). And because of the walking my legs are somewhat sore (again, from the not-walking-that-much-very-often).

The night previous (Saturday night) was epic! It involved friends, bowling, drinking, pool, drinking, and tomfoolery. I laughed A LOT. I made a lot of bad jokes. And this caused me to laugh A LOT. It was a blast and the particular friends, bowling, drinking, etc. had a lot to do with making it so. The night didn't end until about 3:30 when I finally laid down in my bed (laughing). It was a "Superman" kind of night where I was full of energy the entire time and easily could have taken bullets (like Superman), even though I did not partake in any human sheild-esque activities.

In other words, Saturday night I felt like Superman (despite the dislocated shoulder -- and, yes, I am aware that bowling was probably not very good at all for it) and today I feel like crap...

(As a brief side note: I recently purchased a few different candles with scents ranging from "Mocha Latte" to "Mint Mocha Madness" and other coffee related flavors. And even though it's cold outside, and in some areas of my house, there is a generally "warm" feeling -- which I attribute to my coffee scented candles.)

------------

As for music related happenings: I am learning some new covers. My favorite of which is One Headlight by the Wallflowers. I was quite obsessed with the band in my teenage years and have loved them ever since. One Headlight was a favorite song for many reasons, but I struggled to cover it. Recently, however, I stumbled across a different arrangement completely by accident using a capo.

Here is a vid from when I was still "learning" it:

I may have written about how awesome I am in another entry. But, I took some pictures to solidify the claim.

In case you can't tell, it says: "James Frederick is Awesome" and it is written in graffiti style on the men's room wall at Caffe Lena. NO! I did not write it myself! Although, I do not dispute it's claim...

I noticed it, um, while... peeing. It's written just below eye level to the right of where you stand to pee. And as I was doing what I needed to do, my eyes wandered over the various lyrics, quotes, jokes, random statements, and such that grace the walls of the bathroom. Then, to my surprise, I read "James Frederick is Awesome." I dripped a little on the floor... (Just kidding!)

Now, if this is written in the men's bathroom... I can only imagine what is written in the women's bathroom... haha. Yeah...

Photo Dump / Catch Up

2010-09-10T20:01:00.004-04:00

I have not been sleeping good this week at all and because of this, I feel somewhat like a zombie. Adding to this is the myriad of allergy medications that I'm taking at various intervals. Allergy season has really sucked -- especially this past week.

Last night, was mild (for allergies), but for some reason, I still couldn't sleep. I zombied myself through most of today, got out of work and took a much needed nap. Now, I'm in Saratoga (again) for a friend's CD release show at Putnam Den. Mike Grutka, is releasing a brand new album tonight along with a not-quite-as-new-but-still-new-this-year one. Ria came out earlier this year and is just a wall of sound (I think he used like 200 instruments on track one alone!). February Sessions, was written throughout the month of, er... February as part of an album writing challenge. I'm interested in hearing this one and wonder if he recorded it similarly to the last album or if he did something different since they are released so closely together.

I have like a million photos from my phone to share and stories that go with some of them...

Firstly, I ate the first broccoli cheddar soup in a bread bowl from Panera of the season tonight. I love the stuff more than words can say...

Posting this picture makes me remember how good it was... mmmmmm

A co-worker gave me a notepad that's true purpose is to help you organize what you are doing during each of your days of the week. Each week for me is pretty much the same... Saturday waits... and Sunday always comes too late... but Friday...

A few weeks (or possibly as much as a month ago), I played a spaghetti dinner benefit. You didn't come (unless you are my mom reading this or her friend), because you must hate animals or something (the proceeds went to helping animals effected by the BP oil fuck up)... Anyways, here are a couple of pics of Emily Smith playing her set and people who Do like animals watching her.

Remember my complaint about the a$$hole busker who set up a few store fronts down from me? I took a picture of him, but it came out really dark. Here is the picture anyway:

(*Note: if this picture is a picture of you, you are an a$$hole.)

While busking one day last weekend on Broadway, a person came up next to me and start "playing." I looked to my right and it was Ray Pashoukos (another host at Caffe Lena Open Mic). He was excitedly "playing" a plush guitar. It turned out to be a Martin, so I took a picture of the headstock next to my own:

I'm not gonna lie... I want a plush Martin guitar man of my own...

Later that night, I caught my friend Rachel Vanslyke's set for Bands on Broadway:

Rachel is an amazing songwriter and she is an incredible singer. She's a ball of talent, exudes a wonderful persona, and is extremely beautiful (did I use enough adjectives there?). Her mother, also beautiful, plays flute. Casey Jones, Rachel's comrade, band-mate, etc. plays a bunch of other instruments and the result is really quite lovely:

I saved this picture for last. I took it today at work while having "breakfast." (We celebrate birthdays and such-like by bringing in food. It was mostly breakfast stuff this time around). I'm not really sure what is going on with this munchkin donut... it seems to have an appendage of some sort that is hard and pointy...

Did you notice the way it was looking at the chocolate munchkin? I think it's got jungle fever...

Honor Among Thieves

2010-08-29T19:55:00.004-04:00

It's Sunday night around 8. I woke up late, as is typical for a Sunday. Then, I put in a few hours at work for some over time pay. I napped for a little bit, watched a movie, and am planning to read myself to sleep after I post this blog. I love having lazy Sundays. (True, I have lots of housework related stuff that I should have done today, but I worked a little and made some extra cash, so I figure I earned a reward).

This weekend was fun. A friend hung out with me around the backyard fire pit for a few hours Friday night. I played a benefit thing in Galway on Saturday. And I did some busking in Saratoga.

The benefit was fun to play. There was a lineup of open mic regulars who performed 45 minute sets over a four hour period in which spaghetti dinners were served to diners. I arrived a little bit late and missed some of Pete Morselino's set. Hanging out with the other open mic regulars (Ray Pashoukos, Mark Stewart, Maurizio, and Emily Smith -- who put the whole thing together) was pretty cool. Mark's dad bought me a drink, which was also pretty cool. We all ate spaghetti together while each of us played. I understand that the benefit raised a good amount of money for the cause, but there were not a lot of dinners sold. What was really disappointing was how many people chose to select "attending" on the facebook event page -- not even half of those showed.

After the benefit, I headed to Saratoga with intentions of busking on Broadway into the night. I parked in the usual spot (the parking garage near Irish Times) and walked up Phila onto Broadway. I could see across the street a couple of high school age girls with brass instruments and sheet music playing. Not even four store fronts away was Borders (one of my favorite spots), in which a teen had an electric guitar (and sheet music -- wtf? you don't even know the songs you're playing? and people are giving you money? I call bullshit on this). There was someone on the opposite side of Broadway with an acoustic and about seven store fronts down Tristan (A piano wiz, who often attends open mic) had a little toy piano that he was using. Three store fronts further down was the guy that is always out playing his banjo.

It was Traver's weekend, which is a big deal in Saratoga. It's the last race of the track season and it draws quite a lot of people to the area. Broadway was packed with people and navigating the sidewalks with your guitar case in hand, a bottle of water in the other hand, and your harmonica pack under your arm isn't the easiest thing when there are tiny dogs and leashes to trip over and such-like.

But, I thought it would be worthwhile to busk. Clearly, many others felt the same way.

I crossed the street and intended to set up about a full block away from the kid in front of Borders. Then, I thought that I would be too close and, even though he was using sheet music, I felt he deserved respect for getting there sooner than me and I didn't want to crowd his space. So, I walked another half of block away and set my guitar case down in an area near Saratoga Coffee Traders. They have an outdoor area with tables and chairs that juts out into the sidewalk, which creates a bit of a bottle neck. I thought it might cause people to slow down and hear me play. It did. It was a good spot.

I played for about forty five minutes there. I received some cash. I sold a CD (to someone who recognized me from open mic "About a year ago"). One of the patrons of Coffee Traders listened for quite a while and gave me approving nods at times. He put a five-er in my case when he left. It was a good spot and I intended to keep playing there for a while.

A few weekends ago I was busking in front of Borders (as I said, I like that spot) and a guy walked by with a guitar case. I was in between songs and was taking a sip of water when I gave him a nod (I play guitar, he plays guitar. We are practically family). He nodded back and asked me how it was going -- I liken this to a prostitute saying to another prostitute, "How's tricks?" In other words, "Are people dropping money in the guitar case tonight? Or no?" I told him it wasn't bad, but not my best. He commented on my spot in front of Borders stating it was a good one. I agreed. He joked that he'd have to get there earlier next time. I laughed. He went on his way looking for a good spot for himself. I saw him much later that night quite a ways away from where I was playing.

I bring this up because I feel like there is an 'honor among thieves' element at work with the way that the buskers work with each other. In other words, "This is your spot. I'll find my own that doesn't infringe upon your 'territory,' so-to-speak." And throughout my busking experience, I've always honored the territory of other buskers and respected their spots and had received the same in return. For example: That old guy with the banjo is ALWAYs in the same spot. I would never dream of setting up there or near there -- even if he wasn't around.

I seriously cannot believe what happened Saturday night. I was playing in front of Saratoga Coffee Traders, as I said, doing my thing. I finished a song, smiled at a passerby and was about to change harmonica keys when I heard guitar music... and it wasn't coming from far away. I looked up and two (yes TWO) storefronts down from where I was playing, was a jerk/moron/dipshit/asshole/rude-mother-f*cker playing guitar with his case open.

I was seriously shocked. The nerve of this guy... He totally infringed upon my territory. He totally broke the code of buskers. He clearly has no honor among thieves and I really seriously wish him the worst -- not only in busking, but life in general. I mean really... who would do this? Only a jerk/moron/dipshit/asshole/rude-mother-f*cker who generally sucks at life.

Many thoughts ran through my head, "did he not see/hear me?" "Is he blind and deaf?" "Is he an effing asshole?" No. No. Yes.

So here's what I did: I packed up my guitar. Walked down to this guy with guitar case in hand and took a picture of him with my cell phone (I'd post the picture of this jack-ass, but it was dusk and my cell phone doesn't take good pictures in the dark). I looked him in the eye and he ignored me, choosing to look down at his fret board. I wanted to kick him in the face. But, I just walked away. I should have set up my case right next to him... haha.

I decided to grab a coffee at Uncommon Grounds and "take a break" from busking. I went back out on the street about an hour later. The amount of buskers -- if you can believe it -- doubled. Every forty or fifty feet was another one. They were drowning each other out! No honor among theives. I wanted to say something to some of them.

Instead, I just wandered around for about a half an hour. By now, the sky was pitch black and it was after nine. The buskers started to call it a night and I finally found a whole block to myself. I set up my case and played for about two more hours. I took about a thirty minute break and then played again for another hour. And it was the best three hours of busking I have ever had! I sold another CD and received two five dollar bills from passerbys -- one of which was excited when he heard me playing What's Up by Four Non-Blonds. A group of guys stopped while I was playing Free Fallin' by Tom Petty. Petty was at SPAC the night before and they had gone to the concert. We talked about Petty for a while (one of the guys was, like myself, a huge fan). A few additional people stopped while we were talking to interject that they enjoyed the concert. Someone asked what else I know by Petty and I said I'd do Wildflowers since we had talked about that album being fabulous. I played and the group stayed to hear the whole song. There was about eight or so people there at that time and more stopped. I received a great round of applause when I finished and nods of approval. Most of the group gave me two dollars each. I shook some of their hands and they wished me the best. It was one of my best busking moments ever! The one guy was seriously impressed and it made me forget about how pissed I was at some of the busking folk/jerks that I came across earlier.

When I had first arrived in Saratoga, I had -- seriously -- no money in my wallet. I had to spend the two dollars that I leave in my guitar as "bait" on water. I ended up leaving with over thirty dollars (not counting what I spent on an additional bottle of water, a coffee, a dough boy, and the two CD sales -- which I keep separate from busking money) and a couple of incense sticks (given to me by a guy who had a picture of me on his phone from an open mic night from like two years ago -- he recognized me. How cool is that!).

The moral of this story is: Busking is a lot of fun, but there are some fools out there who ignore the unspoken codes and who are generally rude people... and they deserve to be kicked in the face... only, we don't do that.

Knuckles

2010-08-20T16:03:00.002-04:00

I feel like it's been at least a year if not close to two years since the last time I saw Knuckles at Caffe Lena's open mic. There was a period of time when he was coming quite regularly, but he moved to Lake George and only attended open mic sporadically since then. I got to introduce Knuckles a few times while hosting and remember being excited to do so on each of those accounts.

I vaguely remember overhearing a conversation in which Knuckles' real name was used... I interjected, "So that's your real name." But, now, I can't for the life of me remember what it is. And I'm sorry that it escapes me.

Knuckles was in his late teens and in his early twenties while I knew him at open mic. He was awkward and somewhat shy, but -- like me -- developed an outgoing personality through performing and the necessity of having some sort of "stage presence."

I don't recall Knuckles' first performance at open mic. However, I'm certain I -- like many others -- were initially disgusted by his unusual talent. How many people, after all, can play a melody by cracking his or her knuckles? Knuckles did it weekly at open mic and was able to fill ten minutes time with short and easily recognizable tunes.

Sometime in Knuckles' early performances he asked people in the crowd for suggestions of things to learn. He taught himself the 1812 Overture, Mary Had a Little Lamb, The Super Mario Brothers Theme Song (as well as Bowser's Castle's Theme), The Adams Family (a particular favorite among open mikers), and many others. I asked if he could do the theme song to Scooby-Doo. He couldn't at the time, but debuted it the following week. From that point on he would look at me with a half-smile every time he played it. I would clap extra hard.

Knuckles' talent was a wonderful addition to the weekly open mic. There are times when there are dancers, comedians, poets and suchlike. But, open mic tends to be pretty standard as far as what each act brings to their ten minute slot (guitar and vocals). Having someone play melodies on their knuckles... now that's something you don't see/hear every day.

I remember having an in-depth discussion with Knuckles on one occasion about figuring out what songs to play each night. As a performer with a large amount of songs that I can play, I often forget what's available to me on any given night and have had to compile a list of "what I know" in order to have something to pick from. Knuckles was no different and also had a list. There were times when he also made a set list for his open mic performances.

Knuckles typically wore black, but his demeanor was never "dark."

I was quite saddened to find out that he had commit suicide recently.

I scoured the Internet last night in search of some video of Knuckles performing. I was unsuccessful.

Knuckles has friends at open mic. One friend of his, who also had not been at open mic in quite some time, stopped in last night to deliver the news to the rest of us ("us" being open mic people). Daniel Lavine (spelling?), the friend, said that Knuckles was fond of the people at open mic and he would want us to know about his death. Truthfully, hearing that choked me up.

Open mic last night had a somewhat somber tone to it as I allowed Daniel to make an announcement regarding a memorial for Knuckles. Many of the regulars (especially the ones who knew Knuckles) played songs about death or departure -- that's just how us musician types deal with this type of stuff.

Knuckles, wherever you are: I hope you are freaking the hell out of people with your cracking knuckles and wrists... and at Caffe Lena Open Mic, you will be missed.

Uncommon

2010-07-24T21:41:00.002-04:00

I am broadcasting from the wonderfulness of Uncommon Grounds, Saratoga. Today is the second day of the Hats Off Festival, which is basically bands playing on the streets near Broadway. There are lots of people everywhere and many of them are wearing hats.

I came down here at about three o'clock. I read for a while in the coffee shop because it was air conditioned and it was very hot outside. Around 5ish, I found a shady spot on Broadway (by the Adelphi, Delphi, something Hotel) and busked for about two hours. I packed up collecting a measly 8 or so dollars from my guitar case and walked down Broadway. As I neared Borders (a favorite spot for douchey parents to set up their children with guitars and sheet music and demand that people donate so they can eventually make it big) I saw a young kid (maybe 5 years old), with a mini guitar and a harmonica contraption around his neck. He was awful. His guitar case had like fifty bucks in it... the kids douchey father paced around like a douchebag talking approaching the occasional passerby.

I walked to the other end of Broadway to the Oriental Rug place. My friend Phil Drum was playing a solo gig there. People were milling around as they waited for their table at the nearby restaurant. Phil let me play a few songs during his break.

I watched Phil til about 9pm and then headed back to my car, changed my shirt (because it was very hot out and I was very sweaty), and then returned to Uncommon Grounds.

I didn't stop to listen to any of the bands that were playing. Most of them are... um... not my type of music (the advertisements for most of the bands were: Hits of the 40s! Horn Driven Rock! etc.). Sirsy is here playing at one of the locations. I have seen them quite a lot, however.

It's almost ten and I plan on hitting up the late night social scene. There should be some bands playing at most of the usual places. Hopefully, I'll find something that isn't the usual cover band... I mean, I like Sublime too, but really? Write your own damn songs. Or play something unique. I never hear any cover bands creative enough to play Pete Yorn.

Waking and What is Sometimes Wrong With Open Mic

2010-07-18T20:08:00.003-04:00

I feel like I just woke up after a very long nap... kind of groggy. A little disoriented. The phrase, "what just happened?" on my lips. I have been sick for a little over two weeks now with a sinus infection. I was put on antibiotics, which made everything much better, but didn't clear me up completely. So, I was given more and different antibiotics, which really wiped me out and made my stomach feel awful. I stopped taking them and am finally feeling like myself -- whatever that is...

It really sucks being sick for as long as I was, especially in the summer. I feel like I missed out on multiple weekends of busking, seeing shows, hanging out in the park or other social places...

Today, I relaxed around the house and did some housework -- finally. The place was really a mess. When you are not feeling well, you tend not to wash dishes or vacuum.

This past Thursday, while being sick but on antibiotics, I attended open mic night. It was a packed house for most of the night -- a few performers had brought groups of friends and really filled the place up. I hosted and played a song at the beginning of the night and one at the end. I played For the First Time to a packed house of about 80 people and then One Shadow in the Sun at the end of the night to about 7. What's strange is that each performance was special in its own way -- which is something I love about playing at open mic.

One thing that I dislike about open mic -- and especially hosting -- is all the bizarre requests I get from people who expect some sort of privilege over every other performer that signs up. As the night progresses, people ask me if they can play sooner than the time slot that they signed up for. No. You can't. There is a system. There are rules. And everyone who comes to open mic must abide by them... not just everyone else. No exceptions. Not even if you are young and it's past your bed time... or you are old and have traveled far. The whole purpose of the system and the rules is to create fairness. All performers are created equal and if I were to bend the rules or forsake the system for you then it would not be fair to the other performers. It would create inequality between you and the others.

And this is what I say to people when they say,

"My friends came to see me play and they need to leave."

Did you tell them there was a possibility you might get picked to play last?

"I have to work early tomorrow."

So does everyone else!

"It's a school night!"

Guess you should consider attending an open mic that doesn't occur on a school night instead of one that does.

"I should play first, because I'm awesome."

Then I'll buy a ticket for your show at SPAC -- oh wait, you're really not that awesome are you?

The worst part about being the host, is that I have to be the dick and tell people these things. I shouldn't have to, though. People should be able to come in to a setting and follow the system and/or rules without need for special exceptions.

I have come in late to open mic plenty of times. I put my name at the end of the list. I either stayed late and played or left early. I can do it; so can you. I have had people come to see me play. They have complained about having to stay late and rather than ask for a special exception to the rules, I asked other people on the list if they would mind switching spots with me and I would owe them one in return. I have even given up my sweet number 4 or 6 spot and taken a later one for non-pretentious friendly open mikers who typically follow the rules when they have asked politely. I have never given up a sweet time slot, however, for people who I have found to be pretentious and who leave directly after they play.

It's a community at open mic and in order for a community to be successful, there has to be agreed up on rules that the members of the community abide by. If not, the community fails.

I find it funny* that the community of the open mic is based on fairness and equality (two virtuous morals if you were to ask me) and, yet, there are people who cannot fit into this system.

* funny -- meaning deeply disturbing in this sense.

What Would You Do?

2010-07-01T18:16:00.003-04:00

I have a philosophical/ethical question for musicians and songwriters. The question will come after an in depth description of the event that leads me to wonder about this thing.

I recently found myself drawn to a person that I was "hanging out" with. Hanging out is one way to identify two people who get together for, well... hanging out without actually calling it a relationship. I thought we were having great times together and things were progressing nicely. Although I knew she only wanted someone to "hang out" with, I felt like we clicked in such a way that resulted in more chemistry or whatever and required more exploration. After spending a weekend with this person, I noted a big change in the frequency of her wondering about me (she stopped texting) and a while later (after being turned down for dates) I asked why. Admittedly, she was correct in assuming that I had made nothing into something and, essentially, broke the rules of engagement that she had laid out for me. Fail -- as they say it -- on my part. But, I don't have the type of heart that listens to my head (or someone else's head or heart, even) and I eff'd up what she wanted us to be (I do that an awful lot, don't I? Ha! Take THAT world!).

There was one night when I was hoping to get together with this girl and I had sent her a text asking her what was up. I spent hours waiting for my phone to light up. While I waited, I played my guitar and inevitably wrote a song about waiting for the phone to ring (or vibrate). It never did buzz, even though it does in the song, but the song came out really good. It's one of my favorite songs to play and could be construed as a love song (probably more accurate would be: an unrequited love song with a twist ending).

Here is the question: What do you do with a song that you wrote about someone, who you don't see anymore?

Note: this song ends with two people meeting up with each. Thus, it's not at all about the relationship (or lack-there-of) that ensued. So, it's not an accurate reflection of my state of mind about the person that song is written about. So, should the song die? Or should it live on?

What would you do?

The Day Before I Went Postal, and Other Cute Stories of Death and Violence

2010-06-27T11:54:00.009-04:00

Borders. That's where I am. The bookstore in crossgates mall. I am here because I offered to drive my mom to the airport at a ridiculous hour this morning (or was it last night? Well, six of one...). I then attempted to sleep in my car while I waited for Panera Bread to open (Who'da thunk that a place that serves breakfast would not open until 7:30? Lame, Panera. Lame), but I didn't sleep. I had some coffee there and breakfast. Then I surfed the web for a while as I was waiting for a multitude of Albany people that I texted last night, or this morning, to text me back. It's noon and I haven't heard from anyone yet... is there life out there? Guess not. At 11:00 I came to crossgates. I broke the zipper on one of my two pairs of work pants that I like and so I intended to buy more. I found a style that mostly fit (although they are hipster pants and are skinny around the ankles... guess I'll have to deal) and bought three pairs. I didn't want spend anymore money, so I came to Borders with every intention of doing exactly what I'm doing now.

It seems like when a zombie Armageddon occurs, it only inflicts people that I know.

Maybe everyone stayed out late, like I did.

I am currently a mixture of caffeine rush (a full on coffee jitter experience) and brutal exhaustion. After a night of hanging in Saratoga with friends, I didn't hit my pillow until 2:30 in the morning. And then I got up at five to take my mom to the airport.

Throughout Albany, people that I know are in their beds... and they mock me from their slumber. God damn zombies...

While in the mall, I found two things of note that I took pictures of:

Darkwing Duck T-shirt. No more description needed.

This one is an inside joke between my friend Bill O and I. You'll have to ask him what CCS stands for and why "Coming Soon!" is ironic. CCS is already here! And it's in full force this year!

Part of last night's festivities-with-friends included dinner at Sushi Tai Garden in Saratoga. My friend Casey had his sushi delivered on a boat. Everyone else took out cameras so I took a picture too.

Ha! I remember this one. I was in Dunkin Donuts one morning and was waiting for a sausage egg and cheese croissant when I saw this sign and laughed out loud. I wanted to photoshop the word "BITCH" on to it, but I don't have photoshop anymore...

How do you take it BITCH! Now git in da kitchin and make me a donut sammich!

Right.

The jittery exhaustion is making me irritated. But I'm not quite sure my thoughts are organized enough to bitch about my life, the universe, and everything in a cohesive manner. It would certainly start with my house -- wait. It starts with the fact that Borders is playing Sarah McLachlan on repeat... now, I like me some Sarah as much as the next sensitive-in-touch-with-his-feelings guy, but repeat isn't doing Sarah any justice... Right. The house. I own a house. Which means I am paying a mortgage and not saving any money. On top of that, I have to paint one side of the money sucking trap and painting sucks. First, I scraped and the other day I painted. It's not nearly done and I really don't care if it ever gets finished. It's a lot of work on top of regular daily activities (which include my job and cleaning the inside of the house and mowing the lawn -- all things I hate to do to begin with). And right now I wouldn't mind if it burned down, so I could collect the insurance, pay off the mortgage, and move into a comfy apartment. Just let me get my guitar and the cat out first please.

Women is the second thing that I'm infuriatingly irritated at. All of them... you... whatever. If I have to listen to another woman talk about their douchey boyfriend or wishywashy guy that isn't giving them the attention that they want, I'm going to start slitting throats... with my bare hands (in a robot Chuck Norris kind of way). "So, what you are saying is that you can't have an intelligent conversation with this dude and so you are having it with me instead, but you wouldn't really want to date me would you?" I feel raped... emotionally. Seriously. Here me out. Girl uses me for her emotional discussion, then turns around (literally, this is exactly what happened) and makes out with another dude. I was raped. Used. Handed a dirty tissue and sent packing. Alright. Score another one in the friend-zone.

I'm getting a little sick and tired of being Ducky (Sixteen Candles reference). I'm always the fool friend that's in love with Molly Ringwald, who confides all her undying love for the football star, or class president, or general "cool-guy" with a plastic smile, who won't give her any attention. She wants everything that we have (and literally will go as far as to say, "I just couldn't keep a conversation going with him; Like, you and I talked the entire night." Yes. Literally, this occurred).

Part B of my complaint on all woman kind has to do with those of you on the dating sites. It's a DATING site, girls. If you're on it, you're looking for a DATE. Or am I confused about the whole thing? See, when I write you a little superficial message about the weather and the area and what we seem to have in common and you write me back and I ask if you'd like to get coffee or something, an answer would be nice. Yes or no. Or are we supposed to do the email back and forth thing forever? I've tried that to. Am I moving too fast by *GASP* asking you on a fucking date... on a DATING website? The patented matching system says I am exactly (98%) what YOU are looking for... and you don't respond to my message... beautiful. Match this, Skank, and your stupid toothy smile and gorgeous brown eyes.

The cell still hasn't buzzed.

Which leads me to something else... since being single, I made a big change in who-I-am-as-a-person. I became a "yes" person when it comes to getting together with friends and doing things-in-general. For instance, if I get a text from someone that says "let's do such-and-such-thing at such-and-such-place" then I respond with "yes. Let's." This has resulted in the opposite effect in the world of people-that-I-know. For example, I send out a text to a friend, "let's do such-and-such-thing at such-and-such-place." And the responses that I get: "Have to take a raincheck." "Doing something else." "Don't feel like going out." "Flying solo tonight." And my favorite response of all is the resounding silence that says so much.

Apparently I'm in a snowglobe; I'm surrounded by flakes.

I had a neat revelation with a single musician friend of mine. He said that all of the women he meets have problems with their cell phones. I have certainly met a few. We counted; together we know at least 500 people who have working cell phones, but the girls we attempt to date (including the ones on the dating sites) have cell phones that are damaged or don't get texts promptly or voicemail is broken... and they never get a replacement or an upgrade.

Truth be told: rejection sucks. Hearing a "no thanks, I don't want to hang out with you tonight" hurts a little. But it's the truth and it's polite to be honest. If I know you don't want anything to do with me (AKA aren't going to return my texts), at least I can get back up and move on. I can text someone else and test their level of flakiness and go down the list of names until someone desires getting together.

I'm going to buy a nerf gun with rapid fire and unload on people at the mall... maybe I'll steal a whole arsenal of nerf weapons and arm myself like Neo in the first Matrix movie...

Why Nerf? I really don't want to kill anyone... Seriously.

It's one o'clock now and I still haven't gotten an buzzes on my cell phone... maybe the fucker is damaged. How do you take it bitch? I hope you take it with a nerf gun... and Sarah McLachlan is still playing...

Rant/vent/what-have-you is over.

To prove that I'm not going to kill anyone, here are some cute pictures of my cat hiding in the on-call bag for work:

Not All Who Wander... (part II)

2010-06-01T17:54:00.005-04:00

When I arrived at my cubicle for work this morning (Tuesday) after the long weekend, I turned to face my desk and saw the note I had left co-workers Thursday before I left for my vacation day and road trip. I had taped it to my computer screen and it read: "Gone Forever. Leave a Message." I laughed out loud at myself, forgetting i had put the note up.

(Yes, that is a picture of Winona Ryder under my computer screen at work; yes, that is a low cut blouse that she is wearing.)

In my last posting, I left off with me leaving Baltimore.

On my way out of the city, I noticed another sporting arena and quickly took a picture.

A short drive (less than an hour) later, I arrived in Washington, D.C. I found meter parking pretty easily a block away from Hard Rock. I headed straight for Hard Rock leaving my guitar in the car for now. I figured I'd scope out potential busking spots first. There weren't many people on the street at all. In fact, the city felt somewhat deserted.

I went back to my car -- after buying two more pin, of course -- grabbed my guitar, and went to look for a park or something where there might be people to play for. After a few blocks of wandering, I came across the Washington Monument. This is as close as I got to it.

And after a few more blocks, I took this picture:

Which may or may not be the white house... I couldn't tell and didn't want to walk that far.

At about that point, it started to sprinkle and I hadn't seen any places with enough people to bother busking. I started walking back toward my car. The closer I got, the more it started raining and by the time I was on the same block as my car, it was pouring. I put my guitar in my car, grabbed my laptop, and entered the Barnes and Noble that was right there. I used the free Wif-Fi to check the weather for Washington and Baltimore. Weather dot com said that it was going to continue to rain in Washington, but was going to be cloud with a ten percent chance of rain in Baltimore. That fact and because I liked Baltimore a lot (and, hey, if it's going to rain while you are in either Washington or Baltimore, it might as well be Baltimore because I get no answers/And I don't get no change/It's raining in Baltimore, baby/But everything else is the same.)

So, I drove back to Baltimore and when I arrived, there were a lot of neon lights in the harbor area:

I hung out in the harbor area for a little bit, walking as far as one could walk and enjoying the breeze off the water on an otherwise warm night. It was a perfect night and I soaked in the atmosphere. It was refreshing in a way that can not be explained, only experienced; and, it is a type of refreshment that I really desire more often than I am rewarded with.

I walked down a street away from the harbor in which I saw more neon lights. There was an area there called "Power Plant Live!" and it is basically a bunch of clubs and bars, etc. all in one area. In order to get to them, you have to walk into this fenced in area outside of all the bars and stuff. I was carded to get in and once in, I noticed an outdoor bar with tables and chairs and couches around. Essentially, it was like an outdoor bar and a gateway to the other bars. You could drink outside or wander into one of the bars -- one of which had a stage and a band playing live music, another had club music, another had a strict dress code, then there was a lounge and an eatery and a sports bar. It was an eclectic mix of places to drink and socialize. I grabbed a captain and coke at the outdoor bar and hung out on one of the couches for a bit. There was a DJ playing a plethora (like that?) of styles of music. At one point Journey came on and a particularly fun girl sang along at the top of her lungs. I joined in for a duet. I also danced with a group of girls to Tootsee Roll by the 69 boys, which is easy to dance to because the words are just excessively repeated instructions on what dance moves to do... I have little shame.

The last thing I took a picture of was this random door in the middle of the outdoor area:

I found loads of entertainment hanging out near the door. Lots of drunk people struggled to open it (there was latch on the bottom of the door), knocked on one side while a friend on the other side said, "who is it?" in a goofy voice, had their picture taken by it in various stupid poses, and fell through it when trying to open it and the person on the side found the latch and released it."

Some time after midnight, I had finished my drink and decided that I didn't want to drink anymore (being alone and so far from home), so I wandered back to the harbor area, sat on a bench near Hard Rock, and dreamed until I felt tired enough to try to sleep.

I walked back to my car (which I had parked in a parking garage for an insane amount of money), changed into pajamas (yes, next to my car in the garage), climbed in the back seat and closed my eyes. I opened my shortly after, sweating profusely. I tried to sleep for about 20 minutes, but was not successful. And I realized I wasn't even the least bit tired. In fact, I was wide awake! So, I put my clothes back on, made a sandwich, hoped in the front seat and started driving home. I drove for about two and a half hours before I started to feel sleepy. I pulled off at a rest area in New Jersey and parked about four spaces down from two other cars that suspiciously appeared to contain sleeping passengers. Then I tried the sleeping thing again. This time, it worked and I wasn't nearly as hot.

I woke up at about eight o'clock and I WAS hot. I forced myself to wake up. Got coffee, made another sandwich, and drove off. I made one more stop once I got to the New York State Thruway. I napped in my car again (this time for about an hour), got another coffee, and drove off again. I got home sometime after 4pm.

Overall, I had a great time. Sleeping in the car was somewhat rough, but I would do it again to save money. I'm looking forward to the next road trip. I plan to say "yes" to any friend who invites me on one and I plan to plan my own, as well.

There are a lot more Hard Rocks out there that I haven't visited yet. I can make another short trip to Pittsburgh, Cleveland, and other points nearby.

First, I need to save some dough...

Not All Who Wander... (part I)

2010-05-31T16:29:00.007-04:00

A few months ago I decided it might cool to take a road trip to all of the Hard Rock Cafes that I could get to in a long weekend. I collect guitar pins and each cafe has different styles in stock including "city specific" pins that depict something unique about the city in which the cafe is located. My current collection consists of quite a lot from Boston and New York because they are the closest cities and I visit them more frequently than anywhere else. A good portion of my collection is also from the Orlando Hard Rock because they seem to have the most different types of pins available each time I'm there and I end up buying five at a time. Having so many pins from only three cities (and only a few random pins from other cafes that I've visited) makes for a boring collection. I needed more variety and so I decided to go on a quest.

I asked friends to go with me, but I ended up going alone. Most of the reasons not to join my quest had to do with not having any money or the quest being too expensive.

True. The quest over all for myself was somewhat expensive. However, if the cost of gas was split two or even three ways, it would have been much more affordable. I kept track of all my costs so I could post them here and rub it in my friends' faces that the whole thing wouldn't have cost them that much at all.

Gas: I started with a full tank and only filled up twice while on the road. Once home, I did fill it up again.
Total cost of gas: $70.

Food: I bought cold cuts and rolls and made sandwiches for my meals. I also had crackers and cream cheese and granola bars (but I only ate one). The only thing I ran out of was ham and rolls.
Total cost of food: $23.

Parking: I wasn't expecting parking to cost so much. (8 dollars an hour in the city centers!). I parked about 10 blocks away from the city center of Philadelphia and paid $4.50. In Baltimore, I didn't feel like walking so I parked in the parking garage for $13.00. In Washington, DC, I paid $4.00.
Total cost of parking: $21.50

Coffee: I frivolously bought three Starbucks frappaccinos while on the trip.
Totaly cost of frapps: $15.00

The only other major costs were the pins (which a traveling buddy wouldn't have bought anyway) and the tolls. I haven't checked my easy pass yet to see how much I spent, but I can't imagine it being more than 20 dollars or so.

So, I really only spent about 120/140 dollars over all. Which if split two or -- better yet -- three ways wouldn't be so bad for each person involved.

The only other thing would have been lodging. I slept in my car... but there wouldn't be room for three to sleep in it, so we would have to add 60 or so dollars to the total for a hotel stay.

Anyways, the trip:

I woke up Friday morning at about 5 o'clock. I had packed most of what I would need the night before. I showered, dressed and finished packing. Then I went to price chopper to buy some food and I headed out, realized I had forgotten my sunglasses, stopped back at home for them, and headed out again. It was almost 7am.

I hit a little bit of traffic near Albany (the beginnings of rush hour), but it wasn't too bad. I stopped for a short break after about two and a half hours of driving. It was beautiful out... blue skies, sun shine, and with the windows rolled down there was a nice breeze. It was wonderful driving conditions. I took another short stop just off of I-95 in New Jersey. I filled up my gas and had lunch.

I arrived in Philadelphia a little after noon. I drove through the city center, found Hard Rock and began looking for a place to park. There were parking garages and lots which charged upwards of 8 dollars an hour! I kept looking.

(What the hell is this thing?!)

I was about ten blocks away from Hard Rock when I found a metered parking spot. I paid $4.50 for three hours. Even so, I ended up not spending much time in Philly. I walked to Hard Rock with my guitar. I set up outside of Hard Rock and busked for about thirty minutes. No one stopped to give me change... One guy did stoop and listen to me for about ten seconds. I finished a song and said "hello." He just walked away... I received a compliment and a delightful smile from a cute girl that walked by. Then a group of thugged up black guys walked by and one of them said to the other, "It's all you." The other one stepped directly over my guitar case and said, "There ain't shit in there." (I think he was going to steal my tips... obviously I didn't have any).

(This was the view while busking).

I packed up my stuff, went in Hard Rock and bought two pins. Then I headed for another area to busk at. I walked through some parks with fountains, but there were a lot of homeless people crashing on benches so I kept walking. I eventually came to this fountain which looked incredibly familiar...

(I think it's the fountain at the beginning of Married With Children).

I left Philadelphia around three o'clock. On my way out, of the city, I quickly grabbed my phone and snapped a picture of this sporting arena...

... and this one...

I'm not even sure why... I don't even like sports... I guess it's just because they are larger than life and man made marvels...

Anyways, I drove two more hours to Baltimore and as I approached Hard Rock, I took this picture:

I parked in a parking garage nearby (the one that cost me 13 dollars for two hours) because I was too excited to look for cheaper parking. Baltimore was awesome! I walked from the parking garage past this HUGE building that housed the coolest Barnes and Noble EVER, Hard Rock, and a bunch of other restaurants.

I had brought my laptop with me and went in Barnes and Noble to use their Wi-Fi. I sat on the balcony overlooking the harbor.

The harbor area was incredibly cool. There is a mini bar area outside of the Hard Rock Cafe with a small stage and tables and people and music and stuff. I checked my itinerary as per mapquest, the weather, and made a couple facebook updates about the trip. A group of girls were hanging out on the balcony and one told me that she liked my hat. Another noticed I was on facebook and mentioned it. I explained that I was updating friends on my road trip and that I was from New York. They assumed I meant New York City (as most do) and we discussed the difference and how I thought the harbor area of Baltimore was really cool.

After the girls went on their way, I bought a frappaccino and walked part along the harbor. There were some musicians out here and there. I dropped a dollar in a trumpet player's case (he was old and scruffy looking).

After a bit, I turned around, went back to the Hard Rock, bought my pins and decided that this was a cool area and would probably be much cooler at night. So, changed my plans a little bit, left early, and had every intention of making a quick trip to DC and Hard Rock and then returning to Baltimore.

(End of Part I)

Eighty Two

2010-05-22T15:55:00.003-04:00

It is approximately fifty years before I will eighty-two. The only reason that I allow myself to think about that is because today is the 50th Anniversary Celebration for Caffe Lena. And as I relax, by sipping an iced coffee at Uncommon Grounds, after a long day of helping celebrate and being immersed in the history of the first fifty years of the Caffe, I can't help but wonder how they will celebrate the one hundred year anniversary (centennial?). Will there even be musicians then? Or will there just be robots that play midi? Truthfully, if any one place in the entire world that WILL still have live humans playing instruments and singing, it will be Caffe Lena. And when you materialize in Saratoga Springs, and people look at you like you are insane for physically carrying an oddly shaped brief case (guitar case), Caffe Lena will still be there next to the Jetson's home, and you will still walk up that tight little staircase into that cozy little room.

I may or may not be there. Eighty two is a bit of a stretch... I may still exist fifty years from now, but to what extent? Maybe my head will live on in some weird science experiment sort of thing... more probably, I'll be completely forgotten by that time... or maybe there will be a picture of me up at what is left of the Caffe.

I feel really lucky to have been asked to be a part of the fifty year celebration. I've only known of the Caffe seven or so years... (I lost count after five...), so to be asked to busk (play out on the street for change) to benefit and raise awareness of the Caffe (and to create a city wide musical event) was pretty cool.

I busked between the hours of ten and four at various locations around the city. I let friends know and some stopped by or drove by and waved from time to time. In between playing, I checked out some of the other buskers: Emily Smith, Mark Stewart, Mike Grutka, Kate Blain, Ray Pashoukos, Phil Drum, and Willie the Moak. It was fun to meet up with musician friends here and there and to visit with them while we were each on our separate ways to various busking points. I also ran into some other friends of the Caffe and saw many people who are associated with Lena's who may or may not know who I am, but who are well known for working with the caffe for such a long period of time that I certainly know who they are.

The busking was a blast. I didn't really make very much in tips this time around... (and what I did make was donated to Lena's) but I was given a sign with my name on it and information about the Caffe. I plan to put it up in my house somewhere. I am, however, wiped out. I played for over three hours total and my fingers are calloused up. My voice is tired and my back is strained. Thus, the relaxing. I'll probably nap in the park later...

During one of my busking breaks, Lydia (Lidia?) Something-or-other from the Post Star introduced herself and asked me if I would answer their Question of the Week or something. I asked her what the question was... She said: "What advice do you have for the graduating class of 2010?" And a lot of answers popped in to my head: (You will not find a job. You will owe a lot of money in college loans. Don't be a dick. Life sucks. You're going to die. Don't accept advice from random people on the street.) I ended up saying, "Don't take life too seriously, because everyone ends up in the same place at the end." I am looking forward to seeing my picture in the paper with my awful advice to the future of our world... (and to the people who are going to be paying my social security -- assuming there will still be that when I am old and retiring).

Hipster sighting.

2010-05-03T20:14:00.001-04:00

I am hanging out at the Lone Palm coffee place in Johnstown, NY. This place is literally a five minute walk from my house. I, of course, drove. Wasn't really sure who I was expecting to find here...
But there are mostly slightly post high school age kids (young adults?). I'm making friends and everyone appears to be enjoying themselves so thats cool.

Hipster sighting.

2010-05-02T20:41:00.004-04:00

Sunday night, why have you arrived much sooner than expected? It is growing dark outside and I have not made all of the proper arrangements for your arrival. Such is life, I suppose... When there is something that you want, it takes forever to get it; when there is something that you don't want (Sunday night for instance), it's right there BOOM.

I am in bed and am in pain. My back is so sore and my back muscles are in knots (seriously, you can feel 'em!). I think I am in this current state from the week and weekend that I had.

Firstly, I had a wonderful weekend LAST weekend. I spent much of Saturday and Sunday with a person that I am growing more and more fond of every day. I had an absolute blast and would love to write more about it, but there are some things that shouldn't be broadcasted to the world via blog (besides the fact that I would write it like a movie script -- because that is what it felt like while I was living it -- and it would take a long time to put it in that format).

The week itself, however, was quite stressful. Work was... rough and I found myself and my emotions pulled in a million different directions at once. I felt sad one moment and full-on scared for my life the next. I worked late on Thursday and didn't have time to chill out between work and Open Mic.

At Lena's Open Mic, I played second to last. I played Just Breathe by Pearl Jam and an original song, which I am totally drawing a blank on... wow... Open mic was relaxing as always, but I didn't get home until midnight and had to get up for one more stressful day of work before the weekend.

After work on Friday, I took a quick shower and then headed off to Saratoga with a good friend. We ate. We spent a good 20 minutes in the Sci-Fi/Fantasy section at Borders. Then we went to a bar to meet up with some other friends for Karaoke.

There were basically the eight or so of us (friends) and between five and ten other people there depending on the time of night. Not a big crowd (I've had more people show up for my gigs!), but it meant that we had a better chance at doing the songs we wanted to do. For me that consisted of Whoomp! There is is, Hungry Like the Wolf, Hit Me With Your Best Shot, White Wedding, and I'm Too Sexy -- which I did not pick for myself but turned out to be wickedly entertaining. If you are a facebook friend, you may get to see some video from the night.

I got home late from Karaoke. Woke up early on Saturday, packed up my guitar and PA gear, and played a two and a half hour set at the Gloversville Farmer's Market (there is a picture and article at the Leader Herald's website). I had a blast playing and definitely sounded good for the first two hours. The last half hour was a little touch and go. Fatigue set in and my fingers were killing me and messed up quite badly a couple of times!

Even so, I got some tips and was able to take home a free loaf of bread -- which is insanely delicious!

I went home afterwards and napped outside for a few hours. Then I got together with some friends for drinks and snacks on a front porch in the evening. Today (Sunday), I mowed the lawn and took care of some other chores. I also worked for a few hours to snag some over time pay.

And my back hurts. It hurts from the go-go-going that I have been doing since Thursday. And it hurts from the two and half hours of playing (standing) and lugging equipment to and from my car and house. And it hurts from the mowing the lawn and the working a few hours. And it hurts from washing dishes when I shouldn't have because it was already telling me that it hurt and I should quit. And it still hurts after taking twice the amount of Ibuprofen that is recommended on the bottle...

I really really want the pain to go away fast... which is probably why it is not going away.

Of Things In Which I'm Not Doing Right Now and a Bunch of Other Stuff

2010-04-20T19:06:00.003-04:00

I should be mowing my lawn... it's not a jungle, but it's close. If you were to drive my house you might think, "That person should mow his lawn." But, you wouldn't think, "That person NEVER mows his lawn! He should get a ticket!" I should also be doing the dishes or folding the laundry or cleaning the back porch.

At seven o'clock on a weekday, and being in the current state-of-being that I find myself in, I do not think I can pull off any of these tasks.

If I started to mow the lawn, it would be dark before I finished. If I cleaned the back porch, I would need to clean it again Friday (and I have taken Friday off from work and will have all day long to do chores) and why would I want to clean it twice? I could fold the laundry, but I have already been taking clean clothes out of the baskets that they are currently in and why would I want to ruin that good thing by actually folding it? And the dishes? Eff the effing dishes.

I'm truly burned out like I have not been in a long time. The last five days or so have been really trying at work and because of this I've actually lost sleep over bits and pieces of various things that have happened. Some of my co-workers witnessed the mother of all hissy fits that I threw at work today. I'm done hissy fitting (for now) and plan on chilling out for the rest of the night before I go back to work tomorrow and face it all again!

Even though I'm facing all this frustration and craziness at work I am, oddly enough, feeling rather at a high point in my life in general. I'm on cloud nine about a new relationship that has begun to develop, I'm writing lots (as in songs), and I've been receiving some splendid comments on my performances at open mic. I really can't wish or desire for more at this point.

This past week at open mic I played For the First Time and Saving the World, and -- as I've said -- received some good feedback from other open mikers.

Some of the writing that I have been doing hasn't resulted in anything solid at this particular point in time. Most of it loose ideas strung together without a real end point or purpose. Still, it's coming out of me quite regularly, which is something that hasn't happened for a few years. Inspiration was stiffled... or smothered (as is illustrated in For the First Time).

At any rate, thanks for reading these ramblings. It's 7:30 and I'm pooped. I'm going to go strum myself to sleep.

Ahhhhh!

2010-04-13T18:04:00.001-04:00

I opened the blinds on my bedroom window (it was somewhat stuffy in my room and I wanted to cool it down a bit before bed). This is what I saw: Huge-ass bumblebee! Its stinger is the size of a
syringe!

Ahhhhh!

Official Worst Dressed Lead Singer In A Band EVER

2010-04-02T20:13:00.001-04:00

This is the lead singer if the steve palmer band playing at the Linda in Albany. The dude is wearing sweat pants... Seriously... They are maroon... And is polo shirt is a delightful salmon. He is
wearing dirty K Mart running shoes and is sporting a lurch hair cut. He walked on stage and started tuning a guitar, so I first thought: "If this were my band, I would have a dress code for my
roadies..." Then the rest of the band joined him and they started playing and I almost spilled my drink... REALLY?! Guy. Really.

Official Worst Dressed Lead Singer In A Band EVER

Hi Blog. Miss me?

2010-03-24T18:05:00.002-04:00

It's been a long while since I last blogged. Not sure if there is an acceptable reason for the hiatus or if it just happened due to lack of necessity and/or desire. Either way, I hope you didn't miss me, Blog.

Since the last post, I have been up to a lot. I think I'll start with music related stuff first.

It has been confirmed that I will be playing at RailFest in Gloversville this year! The date is August 7th. I believe that's a Saturday. I don't know what time I'm on or where exactly RailFest occurs, but I'm sure that info will come to well in advance of me needing to be there.

I wrote a couple of songs and have been playing for people. One is called The Girl is Already Gone, which I wrote after two weeks of attempting to connect with women in bars. The song is pretty straight forward and tells the story of waking up after a long night of trying to talk to a girl who uses and abuses the narrator by having him hold her purse and buy her drinks. The narrator just wants someone to talk to so, he "had a conversation with the Captain and coke" (Captain Morgan). He gets drunker and drunker and ends up not getting the girl's name or number. I hated the song when I first wrote it (this was after the first night of trying to connect with a girl at a bar), but became re-inspired the following week when I ended up holding a girl's purse for a good portion of the night while she partied with other dudes. I re-wrote the song the next day and now it is one of my favorite songs that I have written. I just need to get the right harmonica so I can add an instrumental part before the last verse.

The other song I wrote recently is called For the First Time and is basically about the spring time. It compares getting out of a smothering relationship to leaving the house when the warm spring sun starts to melt away the snow. The best line in the song is "The snow is melting and revealing/there is life buried underneath." It's a refreshing song. I have been getting great feedback when I've played this song at open mic. The general consensus seems to be that the song is good and it has "hooks," which gives it a sing-a-long/stuck-in-your-head quality. I like the song for various reason, but I'm most excited that, if recorded right, it could work on radio.

Besides the new original songs, I have been working out some new covers. Take Me Home Tonight may be the silliest cover that I'm working on. I have most of it down, but I need to figure out how I want to do the outtro. The chorus repeats about a thousand times, which works in a pop song... not so much in a folk rendition of a pop song. I have some renewed interest some other songs that I've covered in the past but never took the time to really learn. First Day of my Life by Bright Eyes is fun again. So is Friday, I'm in Love by the Cure. I'm also trying to get better at harmonica songs, such as Dancin' in the Dark. The best song that I've learned recently and absolutely love to play because it is a total rip off of my style is Just Breathe by Pearl Jam. This song is so wonderful that I will play the cover, listen to the original, play the cover two more times, and re-listen to the original all in one sitting. It's a beautiful love that song that doesn't use the word "love" in it at all. There is a strong sense of desire and yearning for more time with whomever Eddie Vedder is singing to. She sounds like a catch too: "nothing you would take; every thing you gave." Selflessness.

Currently, I'm lying in bed on Day Two of being home sick from work. I had a vicious sore throat attack me about a week ago and I thought I made it go away by gargling with warm water and sucking down cough drops and drinking tea. But, it came back with a vengeance this weekend. I was doing good again Monday and went to work, but after tearing the hell out of my throat with the salad I ate for lunch, I couldn't do a thing and felt feverish. I had a headache too and so I went home early. I went to the Doctor today and found out that I do not have Step-(spelling?)-Throat or Mono. Which is great! However, there is no easy cure for me except to keep gargling and having tea. (Ice cream is also soothing).

Now that it's dinner time, I am going to try to keep the soreness at bay by having something mushy to eat... I did okay with a peanut butter sandwich for lunch, but I was also hopped up on Ibuprofen at the time. Actually, I could just take another dose of that as well and have at it!

Right. Off to nourish myself.

2010-02-21T10:09:00.002-05:00

It's 10:00 am and it's Sunday morning. I am still in bed. I woke up about an hour and a half ago and surfed the web a bit. Then, I decided to blog. It's really not an ideal time of day to blog... I prefer doing it at night when the darkness inspires introspection, but I don't really want to get out of bed right now and blogging is a good way to keep me from attempting to get out of bed.

Yesterday was quite an unfullfilling day. I woke up at 6:00 am after going to bed at 3:00 in the morning! I -- much like today -- surfed the web for a little bit. Then, I suffered myself to sleep again. I woke up in the early afternoon and after spending another hour surfing the web, I resolved myself to do something with myself and got up and showered. I got dressed, packed up my laptop, put my shoes on, and headed for an unknown destination.

I found myself at the Muddy Cup in Schenectady. I skipped ordering anything because there was a long line. I sat down at a booth and set up my laptop. My wireless card struggled to connect to the WiFi, so I had to do some trouble shooting. It took me about a half an hour to connected, at which point, a gentleman sitting at a table nearby turned up the crappy speakers on his laptop and began watching a movie. A friend joined him and I discerned from the comments they were making that they were watching Star Trek. I couldn't enjoy myself with the distraction so I left.

On my way to Albany, I realized I was hungry and decided to go to Panera Bread in Crossgates Commons. I had brocolli chedder soup in a bread bowl. It was good, but the bread bowl was crunchy. I don't like cruncy bread bowls... I surfed the web a bit and read for a while. After a couple hours, I realized I was dead tired and could have fallen asleep in my soup. I packed up and left.

I came straight home and went straight to bed. It was 7:00 pm.

The night before was a blast. I went out with a nice big group of friends in Saratoga. We started off at the Parting Glass and played some darts. Then we went to the Alley. There were some fun sing-a-longs with 80s songs on the JukeBox.

Thursday night was Open Mic, as usual. I hosted. I opened with my new song For the First Time. I think it went over well. Later on, I played Lonely 'ol Night and Endless. Casey and Dave (Almost Awake) were there and they brought some friends. Afterwards, we left open mic and decided to get some food at the Saratoga Diner. While walking to our cars, I noticed that Hattie's Chicken Shack had a bunch of mardi grai beads decorating their little bushes in their flower pots. We all grabbed a beaded necklace and went on our way (I put my necklace up on my cubicle at work). As it turned out the Saratoga Diner was closed (diners close?), which was probably a good thing because it was after 11 and I was tired enough anyway. I went home and went to bed.

???

2010-02-19T20:54:00.001-05:00

What do you do when you are in a designer clothing store for trendy women and your friends are shopping and you obviously aren't?? You try on the biggest pair of sunglasses that you can find and vogue
appropriately.

???

The List.

2010-02-18T20:16:00.001-05:00

The List.

Bloggidy-Do-Da

2010-02-15T20:42:00.002-05:00

Blog Date: 2.15.2010. Engage.

I'm lying in bed and I just watched TV on my laptop. Technology is pretty cool. Today, I signed up for NetFlix, just after returning my evil cable box to the firey chasm from whence it came! (okay, so the cable box isn't really that evil. The 80 dollars it was costing me on the hand...). I also exchanged the phone modem for the internet only converter. All in all, I'll be saving about a hundred dollars a month. And NetFlix appears to be better than DVR capabilities ever was! And it's only 8.99 a month! Hoo-ahhh!

This past Sunday, I spent most of the day at Uncommon Grounds in Saratoga. My plan was to venture to the mall too, and have dinner some place else entirely. I ended up just reading and surfing for a full eight hours! (I think it's my record amount of time spent in a coffee shop).

On Saturday, I wrote the following but didn't post it because I didn't have web capabilities:

I find myself sitting in Dunkin Donuts in Amsterdam, NY. I’m here (Amsterdam) because this is where the nearest Time Warmer Cable office is located. Or so that is what my bill says and so I tend to believe it. I came here to drop off my cable box and the phone modem in exchange for an internet only modem. (Yes. I’m killing my TV and my landline telephone). My Time Warner bill also says that the office is open from 10:00am to 2:00pm on Saturdays. My Time Warner bill lied.

I drove up the office, which is located in a strip mall, and things appeared dark. On the door in large letters is their “Office Hours: Mon – Fri 9:00am – 5:00pm Sat 10:00am – 1:00pm Sunday Closed.”

I then noticed the paper taped in the window that said, “Notice: There is a change in our office hours effective February 15th.” Below that it said, “Saturday office hours will be 10:00am – 2:00pm.”

I thanked the sign and people who put up the sign with a wave of my middle finger, got in my car, and drove to Dunkin Donuts.

I was expecting to get some free Wi-Fi here (because there is free Wi-Fi in the Johnstown DD), but there is not any here.

I am, however, enjoying a coconut flavored white hot chocolate. I love me some coconut flavor.

So, it’s about halfway through FAWM (February is Album Writing Month) and I have not posted anything on FAWM.org. Some songwriter friends have and I am very impressed and happy for them. I haven’t listened to what they posted yet, however.

I started writing on the first day. I gained an idea and not much else. Over the following two weeks, I have been developing the idea, although, I’m not very excited about it. Which is why I am not working on it right now. I plan to get back to it sometime this weekend. Maybe it will turn into something. Maybe it won’t. Either way, it’s not really looking like I’m going to write an album this February. Not unless a miracle of songwriting inspiration comes to me quickly.

Did I mention I really love coconut flavor?

This past week was a truly horrid one. Most of the horrid-ness came from work and work related stress, etc. Some of it came from missing open mic this week due to needing to be in court for a ticket I received. The rest of the horrid-ness is brought to me by the Government and specifically the IRS. Taxes. As it stands I owe almost 1500 dollars… Part of it has to do with the recent ending of my marriage (it didn’t end soon enough according to the Gov’t) and part of it is because I have been claiming the wrong thing on my W2s. Anyways, by the time Friday arrived, I was pretty much at a breaking point. Thankfully, this weekend is a long weekend.

I went bowling with some friends last (Friday) night and then went to Applebees for a snack.

I’m really hopeful that something will be happening tonight. I’ve considered a bunch of options, but with the knowledge that I will have to pay so much for my taxes, I’m afraid to spend any money… and all of the really exciting things to do on a long weekend require money.

Which is part of the reason why I took the plunge and disconnected my cable. I need to save some money. Truthfully though, I don’t watch very much TV – only about 5 hours a week. Still, it feels like I’m making a big change in my life. My heart is racing. My stomach is full of butterflies… lame. I know.

I wish I was going bunjee jumping…

I brought a book with me… not really sure why. Dunkin Donuts is a thin replacement for Uncommon Grounds or Starbucks. And I don’t feel comfortable reading here. Funny. There really aren’t any places in my area here (Johnstown, Amsterdam, Gloversville) where you can feel comfortable reading… That’s probably why there are so many illiterate folks around. Haha.

Okay. I’m going home. I have no inspiration in this place and I can tell that my thoughts are pale.

Hopefully, I’m doing something exciting after returning home.

How a simple man-date turned into - a w k w a r d -

When I returned home, I found that my friend Jared was looking for something to do. We tried, via texting and facebook messaging, to get a group together to see a movie. We failed and decided to grab dinner and hit a local bar. For dinner, we tried this sweet app (short for application -- I know you know what an app is, but I'm still uncomfortable with some 2010 lingo) on his iPhone which allows you to select a city. Then, you shake the phone and like a slot machine, it shows you a food category (italian, americana, chinese) and names a restaurant nearby. It sort of like restaurant roulette. We ended up going to the Fireside restaurant, which neither of us had been to in a long time. We went in, were told that there were no tables available, were told that there was room for two more, and were shown to our table. We ordered food (from the Valentine's menu -- ha ha!) and ate. Then the comedy show started... and we exchanged a look. Comedy show? We finished eating after the host did a short set. Then our waitress took our plates and asked us if we needed anything. I said, "just our check. Thanks." She said, "You get it at the end of the show." Jared and I exchanged another look. Err... we had places to go. We sat awkwardly as the first comedian did a set. After his set, I said, "let's get up and go back to the bar and ask if we can pay and, uh, leave." We did that and everyone was surprised that we didn't come for the show. The first comedian was back there and he said, "All they saw was my set; I should be paying them!" Cute.

We left the Fireside and went to a bar called the Cellar. Jared's co-workers were there for a birthday party and the plan was to make an appearance. We went in and went directly over to one of Jared's co-workers (who happens to be very gay). We joked and laughed a little through introductions. Then I explained that we had just come from a comedy show that we didn't mean to go to and had ordered off of the Valentine's Menu. I thought it was funny.

A little later, I got a drink and wandered around a bit. Jared found me and we left. On the way to pick up another friend, Jared explained that some of the co-workers thought we were gay together... "uhhh... no," I said. "Great, so that cute girl that I kept smiling at wasn't checking me out because she thought I was hot? She was checking out your new boyfriend... wonderful."

Wish you were here

2010-01-28T20:38:00.001-05:00

The list. It's open mic and you should be here at caffe lena. We miss your pesence and especially your voice. Most likely you are at home and not wanting to venture out into the cold January night
that we are having. I don't blame you; it is very cold and the roads are somewhat treacherous in parts if you aren't careful. Enjoy your being warm, but think about us here at the open mic. After all,
we are thinking about you!

Wish you were here

Sweats

2010-01-17T17:27:00.002-05:00

I hate sweat pants and I use the word "hate" because it is a simple word and tends to be precise. However, I feel a stronger distaste to sweat pants than the word "hate" can truly communicate. (This thought is brought to you by the three college age women at Panera bread who are wearing sweats and look disgusting). *Note: the last time I wore sweat pants, I was in 6th grade. I have not worn them since.

I'm in Panera Bread (as you may have guessed) in Schenectady. I'm having a "me-date." First, I picked up some cat paraphernalia for Orea (my cat), which was the purpose of me leaving the house today. Then, I went to Barnes and Noble and spent about fifty dollars on books. I think I am excited about reading again. I had picked up a bunch of books back in late summer and started reading one of them. I just couldn't get into it... it remains one of only a handful of books that I started and did not complete. I grabbed some interesting looking fantasy/sci-fi genre novels today and paid for them with a large smile on my face. I then ran a couple of other errands and ended up at Panera for broccoli cheddar soup on a bread bowl. The perfect dinner for a me-date.

"What is a me-date?" you may ask. Well, it's basically when you go out and treat yourself. I read about it in a Woman magazine like Cosmo or... the other one that's a lot like Cosmo while at the place-where-I-get-my-hair-cut (Yes. It's a SALON. Ya Happy?). A lot of women go on me-dates and get facials or manicures or such. I buy books and eat bread bowls and blog. I like to do something music related on a me-date: see a band or attend an open mic or buy picks and strings and whatnot. Tonight, I'm going to head over to a friend's house to play Wii and be social. I'm skipping the music related part because of the impending ice storm that the weather people are saying is on it's way. So, I'm going to stay close to home.

(Oh my god. The sweat pants girls just got up and left their table and the restaurant and were replaced by another group of sweat pants girls!!! Sweats are the downfall of our society.)

-----

I played harmonica at the open mic for the first time and did quite well. I played My Motorcyle, which has a lot of room for improvisation in the key of E, and Endless, in which I play in the cross harp key of D (I think). I really need to write down what key harmonica I use for what songs... that will help a lot for performances.

I decided that I need something to carry my harmonicas around in... they came in a nice little case, but I have trouble carrying that, my guitar, and the contraption that holds the harmonica that I'm playing. I checked out some possibilities at a few stores, but nothing fit my budget and my requirements for size and carrying style.

I put a couple of videos on YouTube of my playing some cover songs with harmonica parts. They came out fairly good except for the poor quality of the webcam and the laptop microphone.

Here they are:

And on that note, snow is falling. I'm going to head home before the roads become not-drivable.

Guitars

2010-01-14T20:03:00.001-05:00

It must be open mic night. I am sitting quietly in a back corner of rhe caffe with the harmonica contraption around my neck. Of course, I am feeling uneasy about playing the harmonica for the first
time in front of people... I guess: here goes nothin'.

Guitars

A w k w a r d

2010-01-03T11:36:00.002-05:00

It's a new year and I have been out of the house a couple of times so far. Which essentially means I'm not fulfilling my resolution of hybernating until spring. Although, this morning (it's really almost noon), I find myself in bed and not wanting to get out of it regardless of how much crap housework I have to do today. I have heard the phone ring twice and my cell phone buzz once and I haven't made any moves to detach myself from the bed.

One of the times-that-I-left-my-house-so-far-this-year was suppossed to be fun and somewhat fulfilling. It turned out to be awkward and I left.

I went to an open mic night in Fultonville. I had first heard about the open mic some time last summer and had every intention of attending some time. It is held once a month in a basement in a church. I finally made myself go (telling myself it was my new year's resolution to put myself in new situations) this past Saturday night.

I arrived at about ten minutes to seven, found the sign up sheet and wrote my name. I was recognized by two gentleman who I have run into at other local open mics/music events/etc. and went to speak with them. I was introduced to another musician who began asking me about Caffe Lena's open mic.

Soon after that, the host of the Fultonville open mic found me (I had met him at Caffe Lena a month or two back -- it's in my blog somewhere) and we chatted briefly about my finally-making-an-appearance. I was directed to the snacks and drinks, which were neatly laid out on a folding table. I poured myself a plastic cup of grape Fanta. I didn't even know they still made Fanta... or don't they?

I went to the back of the room and sat on a bench that was up against the wall. I drank my Fanta and took a minute to take in my surroundings. The first thing I noticed was that the church basement smelled an awful lot like a church basement... which was not at all pleasant. I then began to notice the people. Many of them looked like people who you might think you'd find in a church basement... and this made me feel uncomfortable. After a few more moments I had finished my Fanta, and feeling uncomfortable about my surroundings, I attempted to move to another area of the back of the room (where there were less people). I moved a little further down the bench, but was instantly met with the what can only be described as the worst case of body odor that I have ever experienced in a church basement (not that I have been in many church basements, mind you). I moved back to my original seat and thought to myself that the music would start soon and the tone would change.

The first song started and it was a song about Christmas... it contained a not-very-gentle reminder that Christmas is about Jesus and not gifts and you should be thankful that Jesus loves you. I let that one slide. The next song had little to do with religion, and was somewhat good. Then the next few songs were sung out of hymn book and I made my decision: leave.

I put on my coat, scratched my name off the list, and made my exit.

As I drove home, I chided myself for my poor decision making skills and stupid resolution. I also felt a little bit bad that I showed up and then disappeared. However, I returned home, played some songs, and pretended that the awkwardness didn't happen.

2009

2009-12-29T00:19:00.002-05:00

I wasn't planning on writing about 2009 until 2010, but I'm awake and I can't sleep. I had a rather trying day at work today and have been feeling quite unfulfilled since then. My hope is that unloading some thoughts into this blog-thing will result in enough easing of my mind in order for me to fall asleep.

It has now become a ritual on the blog for me to write about the past year on New Year's day. First, however, I re-read the previous New Year's day post and compare and contrast (apparently) last year's self to this year's self. The 2008 post is found here.

The first thing I noticed in re-reading the post is that a lot of positives occurred throughout 2008. There were lights at the end of tunnels and I generally seemed to make steps in good directions. One thing that I didn't post about that day, but was on my mind non-the-less, was my relationship with Stephanie. It was about that time that things started to feel not-right. There were many discussions about my career and inability to keep my life in perfect order. I realized soon after the new year that I had to do something to fix things. I had a choice to make: show more love or try to get a job I didn't want to do, quit songwriting (which, I learned, consumed me), and somehow become better at keeping my life in perfect order. I chose the love route and attempted to show more affection (because Lennon said, "All you need is love."). I chose poorly and found myself living alone in August and completely disagreeing with John Lennon.

This year saw other endings as well. I stopped filming the Inside the Open Mic series. It just wasn't getting enough viewers (the last video filmed debuted six months ago and only has 50 views -- 20 of which are mine!).

I didn't write very often throughout the year. I did write one song early in the summer and finished a great song last week. But, as a song-writer, I should be writing more... even if it doesn't result in a song.

I didn't read as much as I would have liked. I found a couple of great books early on in the year (and I did manage to spend all of my Borders gift cards!) and bought some duds. There are still some unread books on the shelf, however, and I like that.

Even though I didn't write songs, I worked on a screen play that I had started in 2008. It's coming along quite nicely and looks great up in my head. I still need to complete the ending and organize Act III. Stuff to do in 2010, I guess.

I'm excited to learn to play the harmonica and add a new dimension to my songs. I got a small set of harmonica's for Christmas and have been messing around with them on and off. Not sure when I'll have it all figured out. I'll need to be comfortable with the whole thing before playing live like that.

One big thing that I noticed about last year's post was that I intended on using my tax return money to record. Well. I didn't get any money back from taxes and was not able to secure my financial situation (what with getting divorced and all) at the end of the year. So, I'm back to being not able to afford recording for a while; although, I'm hoping to get something done with home recording to have something to at least give out to people.

I didn't play many gigs this year. Just a few farmer's market things. However, I played on the street and in random places more than I have in past years.

I'm beginning to notice that my eyes are drooping and my thoughts are coming to me slower and slower. It's also incredibly windy out and my window is rattling. And my laptop battery is almost dead.

So, it's a good time to stop rambling about last year. I'm going to attempt to dream. I may focus my dreams toward goals that I'd like to accomplish in the new year. Or -- and more likely -- I will just dream about rock stardom, or certain actresses that I find to be alluring. Or maybe I won't dream at all...

2010. You're coming whether I want you or not.

'twas Christmas

2009-12-27T20:37:00.002-05:00

Being that I celebrated Christmas/my-birthday with my family on the Saturday six days before actual Christmas/my-birthday, the 25th of December was rather uneventful. There were no candles to blow and no wishes to make. There was no out-of-tune and out-of-sync singing of happy birthday. And there were no spankings and/or a pinch-to-grow-an-inch. Especially, there were no hugs. There was very little socializing (I attempted to go to a gathering at a friend's place, but no one else was gathering and so I left so the boyfriend/ex-boyfriend -- she and he couldn't seem to agree -- could be there without the oddity of my random being-there-ness).

Even so, I felt mostly fulfilled, as I had received many merry-and/or-happy-birthdays from friends and family via facebook messages, myspace messages, text messages, and phone calls.

I also got to spend my birthday (for the first time in my entire life!) doing just exactly what I wanted to. And for this year, I wanted to play a video game that I had bought myself for my birthday/Christmas (okay. I admit it. I combined a gift for myself...). I spent a good portion of the day sitting on the couch playing... and munching on cheese crackers or popcorn while drinking cream soda (god, I love cream soda). At times, I even mixed a little rum in with the cream soda.

One day turned into three. I ended up spending most of Saturday and Sunday after Christmas doing the same thing. I did take some breaks from gaming throughout the weekend to play guitar and practice the harmonica. Truthfully, I'm learning. My goal is to be able to add little simple riffs (is this the correct terminology?) and things to some of the breaks in my songs. And I'm getting close to my goal. I've found that I can play guitar and harmonica at the same time, which is something that I was worried I wouldn't be able to do.

Well, it's 9:00 on Sunday and I have to get back to reality tomorrow (i.e. work). It's another short week. I'm excited about New Year's Eve. I'm not entirely sure why or what I'm going to be doing that night... but it should be something and it should be exciting!

I think I'll save the end-of-the-year/beginning-a-new-year pondering for another post.

Christmas

2009-12-20T20:20:00.002-05:00

It has been a very buys last two weeks. I haven't had the time to sit, organize my thoughts, and blog. I'm not quite sure where to start. It really has been that busy and my thoughts are a whirlwind.

Two Thursdays ago, I attended Open Mic as usual. It was a good night overall, and I feel as though I did a particularly good job on my Christmas song, Frozen. I also played Endless. After playing I received really wonderful compliments from some people in the audience. One was from, Tom (think), who hosts an open mic in Fultonville at a church once a month. He was quite impressed with Frozen, which made me feel very good. I have to say that it may be one of my most well-written songs as far as the whole package is concerned.

On Friday and Saturday, I did some Christmas shopping and started making my black santa hat (yes, I bought materials and sewed a santa hat for myself -- I can be quite crafty). I wrapped gifts for my family and put them underneath my tree. The doing of these things took up most of the weekend -- except for Sunday when I rested for most of the day.

This past Thursday was the last Caffe Lena open mic of the year 2009 and the last open mic before Christmas. Also, I was hosting it. I have to say, I had been looking forward to hosting this night for quite some time. I was planning on making a warm, holiday edition of open mic. I foresaw musicians sharing Christmas songs with sing-a-longs and telling stories about Christmas traditions. With the termination of my marriage, I was especially looking forward to experiencing a Caffe Lena family (open mic musicians!) Christmas.

I have to say that the night exceeded my expectations and was easily one of the best open mic nights I have ever attended. I really felt very happy to be a part of it. During the night, I listed who played what Christmas songs in order to document the festive parts of the evening:

Maurizio played a folky rendition of White Christmas with Phil Drum and his fabulous version of Little Drummer Boy, which is alway satisfyingly wonderful.
Phil Drum played The Christmas Song and Elvis' Santa Claus is Back in Town.
Wilow played The Christmas Letter by Reba MacEntire (spelling?) and Santa Baby, which was very cute!
Gail Sparlin played an orginal Christmas song. A solemn, bluesy piano number called A Fine Time For Being Blue. She also told a nice story about how her high school choral students sang carols at an upscale restaurant to raise money for a charity. They made 27 dollars when there were upwards of 200 hundred people in the restaurant. The students donated their own money to charity when they discovered how little they made. A nice Christmas-spirit story.
Willie the Moak played a unique version of Santa Claus is Comin' to Town in his guitar-string-tapping style/.
Rik Kent played Christmas inspired instrumentals.
Jeffrey T played his original song Christmas or Hanukah and a jazzy version of Sata Claus is Comin' to Town in which Maurizio backed him up on with some lead guitar work.
And I played the last Christmas song of the night: My original Frozen.

Somewhat toward the end of the night, a performer (Samara) played a "proposal song" and upon completion of it, got out an engagement ring, dropped to one knee, and asked her girlfriend to marry her. The girlfriend said, "yes" and I was left with interesting task of getting up on the stage and introducing the next performer.

On Friday, I worked late. Then my mom brought food over and gave me some instructions on cooking the turkey. On Saturday, my brother and his wife came over, as did my mom and a friend of hers. We had turkey and mashed potatoes and stuffing and rolls. The turkey came out quite good. It was my first time cooking a turkey and I succeeded. I made the comment that it was "on the dry side," but everyone disagreed. (Truthfully, it was a little bit dry, but it wasn't DRY by any means). We opened some gifts and played a card game and visited for a little bit. Then we had ice cream cake for my birthday.

After that, my brother, his wife, and I went to my dad's for spaghetti dinner and games and gifts. We laughed very hard while playing some games (as we often do) and had a great time.

Later that night, I went to my friend's house for a party. He planned a party for those of us that birthdays in December. I had been telling them that I wasn't going to be able to go, due to having Christmas with my family. So, they were very surprised to see me show up.

This morning, I woke up around noon. It has been a lazy Sunday and I've mostly just watched TV, had left-overs for lunch and dinner, and cake and cookies for dessert.

------

I wrote a new song!! I'm very happy with it and I can't wait to play it for people. However, I am going to keep under wraps for a while. It's a song that uses spring time as a metaphor and in the song, the sun is out and the snow is melting. So, it doesn't fit with this time of the year. So, I'll see if I'm able to keep myself from playing it out... not sure I'll be able to succeed with that.

Ho Ho Hosting

2009-12-17T20:53:00.001-05:00

Ho Ho Hosting Caffe Lena's open mic!! Lots of christmas songs. It's freezing cold outside but feels warm in the caffe. Friends and songs. It doesn't get any more christmas spirity than this. Love it!!

Ho Ho Hosting

Blog You. You Blogging Blogger.

2009-12-06T20:50:00.002-05:00

It's not very late on a cold December Sunday. Even so, I am in bed (which is where I spent a good portion of my day) being warm and sleepy. The headache that I have had since this morning is finally subsiding and I feel that I may be able to fall asleep peacefully without being in pain. The comfort of this realization has prompted me to open up blogger and write.

You see, it has been a while since I've blogged. Two weeks, as a matter of fact. And I should have a lot to write about. The problem with having a lot to write about is that when you do open blogger a whole bunch of things start to happen: 1) You have no idea where to start 2) You fear that you'll forget to write about something 3) You leave out bits and pieces of things in order to prevent yourself from writing a lot 4) You know it's going to take a while to get it all down, so you give up and leave it as a draft.

All such thoughts are going through my head...

Still, I haven't blogged in two weeks and I need to get all this stuff out of my head so that I have twice as much to write about next week.

Let's start with the recent holiday. I found myself attending two thanksgiving dinners: one with my mom at a friend of her's place and one with my dad. There was the usual food stuffs available for consumption at both and both sets of dinner were fabulously delicious. The problem, however, occurred to me on Friday. Even though I attended two thanksgiving dinners, I did not end up with any left-overs. This prompted me to seek out a turkey when I went to the grocery store on the Monday after the holiday weekend. Oddly enough, they had no turkey.

Friday night (after the holiday) turned out to be a blast. I went "out" with friends and found myself (along with my friends) buying one friend (who has "not been drunk in a long time!") drinks all night. Eventually, everyone left (except me) and wondering where they had gone, I texted them. The text I received from my drunk friend read: "yeai goinoninome" and I will never forget it.

My friends left without me because I was in the back of a bar being hugged by a girl that I had graduated high school with some time ago. She was in town for the holiday and we randomly ran into each other at the bar. I stayed later than my friends catching up and whatnot and eventually gave her and some of her companions a ride home. (despite the getting-my-friend-drunk, I was quite sober).

Not much else occurred through the weekend, so I shall fast forward to Thursday (aka Open mic night).

I braved the Victorian Stroll in Saratoga to get to Open Mic. I had to park four or five blocks away due to the sheer amount of people taking up the city. I also had to stand in line forever to get some food at Uncommon Grounds. Part of my standing-in-line-forever was brought to me by a youngish couple with their toddler who wanted a happy meal so bad I almost walked back to my car and drove to the nearest McDonald's for him. I stood with guitar in hand and laptop over my shoulder waiting while mom and dad read and reread the menu to the kid asking him what he wanted. He didn't want to budge on the chicken nuggets (who would?) as the watch on my wrist got closer and closer to open mic time. Eventually, I did get waited on and was able to eat quickly and get to Caffe Lena in time.

It was a short list of performers (a lot of people stay out of the city on Victorian Stroll night) and a three-song-night. I played three originals and rather poorly, I might add. The sound was not working with me and the monitors kept cutting in and out. Through the first song I couldn't hear my guitar and messed up enough times. The frustration of getting to the open mic and then sucking lead to an unfulfilling night overall. Even so, it was good to see the familiar faces at Lena's. It has been a while thanks to the holiday, my vacation, and being sick for three weeks. Wow. Over a month with no open mic.

On Friday, I went "out" with friends again. First I stopped off at the friend-who-we-got-drunk-last-week's house for pizza and a movie. He refused to go out again after last week. "Out" was somewhat fulfilling. Lots of friends and laughing and whatnot.

Saturday, I went to Troy's Revolution Hall for the Alta Mira CD release show. It was a blast and the band's sounded amazing! I picked up the CD and am dying to start playing it for people. The sound at the show was truly fabulous and the lighting was wicked cool. Unfortunately the weather was bad and the roads were slippery. This most likely contributed to the 300 people who were present (there easily could have been more).

I could write more about the show, but there are sure to be plenty of reviews and pictures and things all over the local music websites. I could also post pictures from my cell phone, but they aren't going to amount to anything compared to what the professional photographers are going to post.

Plus, it's a little bit latter now and the headache is completely gone, but I'm tired. It's been a long week at work and late nights for the past few. I need the sleep, so I'm going to take it when I can get it.

I have a brief "to do" list that I neglected this weekend... I'll have to do it this week. I also want to put up some Christmas decorations. Right. Bed.

Day 4 and 5 (Vacation Diary)

2009-11-22T17:01:00.005-05:00

It is now Sunday. Which means I am three days late writing about day four of my vacation and two days late writing about day five. I'm a bad blogger some times. I have been very busy since being home. There was a gathering Saturday night at a friend's house and I have had to unpack and tidy things up after the unpacking. I picked my cat up on Saturday and slept A LOT. I guess I was partially jet-lagged and partially behind on sleep. I have also been taking care of the sunburn that I had gotten on Thursday and haven't written about yet...

Okay. Time for the catch up.

I woke up Thursday morning (Day 5 of the Vaca) in the late morning and went straight for the poolside. Of course I put on sun tan lotion and took extra care to make sure I covered my back. In fact, I put on SPF 15 first and then added SPF 30 to my back because I had gotten a little red in some spots. In the next four hours, I laid on my stomach, laid on my back and switched back and forth between the two. I realized a couple of times that I had fallen asleep while laying out and these times occurred while on my stomach (I just typically sleep that way). It was great while I was out there. I had my mp3s and the sound of the ocean, which was less than twenty feet away. There were very few other people out by the pool. It was so relaxing and thinking about it now makes me wish I could do that for four hours each day of my life. I'm certain I would be a much more relaxed person in general if I could.

When I went back up to my room I felt the burn on my back. I checked it in the mirror and noticed more red that I had had before. I also noticed that I didn't have that much color overall. What a rip-off. Four hours in the sun and only a light tan (and some burn) to show for it?

I went to get some food (because it was lunch time). I ate at Denny's and had a Grand Slam. Not quite sure why I was in the mood for breakfast at 2:30 in the afternoon, but I was.

When I returned to my room, I was exhausted and my back hurt A LOT. I checked it in the mirror again and it was lobster red... and it covered my whole back. "How did that happen?" I thought. I had extra SPF on me... ugh.

So, I used some aloe vera gel and fell asleep on the hotel bed.

When I woke, it was dark. And I was very groggy. I think the sun burn took a lot out of me. I took a coldish shower and then turned the hot water off completely, letting it cool my back down. Put on more aloe vera and got dressed. This was the last night of my vacation and I wanted it to be a good one. My plan was to get some food at the Mai Tai Bar, which I did, and then head over to a place called the 509 Lounge, which I saw on Wednesday night and was hoping then. Once there, I stood in line behind some very dressed up youth-ish looking folks. They were all generally acting like assholes and I thought, "the whole placed can't be full of assholes..." Then I got up to the bouncer checking IDs. He said, "Are you with the frats?" And it all began to make sense. For a brief second I thought to myself, "I could lie and say 'Yes, I am with the frats,' but that would mean that I would get in and be stuck amongst a bunch of assholes." So, I said, "No," took my ID back and walked away happily.

I decided to go to Razzle's again, the crazy dance club I attended the night before. There was quite literally no one there. I figured I might be too early, so I got a drink and hung around. After a while, four Asian girls walked in. In one section of the club, there are lighted poles (not sure why...) and one of the Asian girls was dancing provocatively around it. I walked over and asked her if I could put a dollar in her shirt. She said, "yes" and we all talked for thirty minutes or so about how lame the club was tonight and where we were all from and how many and what time of drinks we had all had. I left them with a "nice to meet you" and got myself another drink. They began dancing with themselves on the dance floor. Which made me wonder... why would a group of girls dance with themselves when there is a gentleman who is clearly interested in one of them nearby? Lame.

Anyways, they left shortly after and so did I. While walking to my car, a very-drunk-or-high-or-both-man asked me if he could draw my picture for money. He had a torn up sheet of paper that looked as if it had been pulled out of the trash. I said, "no" and prodded me for money. I walked away from him as he stumbled and tried to keep up with me. I lost him around the corner. Then -- no joke -- three steps later, I run into a woman who tells me this obviously made up story about how her friend left her with no gas and went home with a guy and could I please give her some money. I said I didn't have any cash on me and was paying with my debit card. She said, "There is an ATM machine right over there." I said, "I'm not crazy, lady. Leave me alone." And I walked quickly away from her as she huffed and puffed.

I cruised up and down the strip for twenty minutes or so, just to feel the cool night air blow in through my rental car window. Then, I pulled into my hotel parking garage and went up to bed and called it a night.

Almost forgot. I took this picture of a sand sculpture that I saw in many different stages of development each time I went to Ocean Walk area, which is where the Mai Tai Bar is:

When I woke up the next morning, it was actually early: 8:00. I ate breakfast, packed, showered, packed more, and finished packing. Then I checked out and left the hotel. I went to my Grandpa Bordy and Granny Nanny's house and visited with them for a while. My grandpa is in a carving club and he has many cool carvings that he's done around the house. Whenever I visit (every few years or so), he has some new ones mixed in with the ones that I've seen in the past. This time, I took some pictures:

I was quite impressed with the dog, which was a new one since the last time I had seen them. I have one of his early carvings that he did, but it's put away somewhere, I think. He sent me a carving knife once with a block of wood that was started and some instructions on how to do it. I gave it a shot, but just couldn't get into it. Music is my thing.

Anyways, I left their house around 11ish and drove an hour and half to the airport, where I dropped off the rental car, checked my luggage, went through security, and found the terminal that my plane was leaving from. I had intended to blog then, while I waited, but I only had a half an hour before the plane would start boarding. And I was tired and hungry. So I bought a slice of pizza and a coffee. I ate and drank and found I didn't have enough time to blog.

I boarded the plane and when we got in the air, I pulled my laptop out and worked on my screen play. I finished reformatting act II. What I need to do next is type out act III and add the scene numbers to act II and III. Then it needs a couple read throughs and I'll start giving it out to friends to get feedback. I'm excited... while reformatting it I "watched" the scenes unfold in my mind. It's good! I can honestly say that I would enjoy seeing this movie.

Anyways, I took a picture of my Downtown Disney souvenir:

Only six dollars! He is attached to my laptop bag. I also came home with a stuffed Shamu that Tif won (by beating me) at Sea World. I put Shamu on the top of one of my shelves in the living room.

After the plane landed, I went out to eat with my dad and told him about the trip. Then I drove home. On the drive home, I realized how tired I was from the whole thing and I couldn't wait to get into bed. I arrived. Brought my stuff in and dropped it where it was most convenient. Then, at about 7:30 I turned out all the lights and plopped down for some much needed rest. And I stayed in bed until about noon the next day!

Now it's six o'clock on Sunday and I have to start getting myself ready for work tomorrow. Oh work... you silly nine to five thing. So unlike a vacation, you are. You should take a tip from vacation days, work days... sleep in and lay out in the sun... that would be the perfect job. Where do I sign up?

Day 5 (Vacation Diary)

2009-11-19T09:42:00.006-05:00

I don't remember getting a tattoo last night... I do remember getting the word "Light" stamped on my left hand when I walked into a dance club (time out: Yes. I went into a dance club). I attempted to wash "Light" off my hand, but it doesn't seem to want to come off at this time...

More on the dance club later. First a catch up.

I woke up Wednesday morning and had some breakfast. My plan for the day? Lay by the pool. What did I do? I laid by the pool. First, I went across the street to shop for a beach towel. I had checked out some other places the night before, but didn't find any that weren't either cheaply made or costing more than I wanted to spend. I found one Wednesday morning:

If you can't beat 'em... (wait...). I bought the confederate flag beach towel for two reasons. 1) it was not cheaply made. 2) it was in my price range. The was also a dolphin towel of the same non-cheapness and price range. And even though I love dolphins as much as the next guy, I chose the flag for the comedic value. Some seagulls decided to hang out in the pool as well... and it made me feel a little be strange about swimming in it.

While laying by the pool, I listened to mp3s on my phone. Some pool-side-laying-around-music was brought to me by: The Killers, Cold Play, Franz Ferdinand, and Kings of Leon.

I left the pool around three o'clock when the sun went behind the hotel. Around five, I drove the strip (Atlantic Ave/A1A) and stopped off for food and drinks at a place called Mai Tai Bar. It was quite possibly the coolest venue I've been to. Mai Tai Bar is about a long stones throw from the ocean. They have gas fires above you. And the chairs are cousiony.

I watched/listened-to a solo acoustic performer. He played poorly original covers, but ultimately sounded pretty good. I started to miss my guitar. After the solo guy, a band set up and also played covers. I thought I would enjoy the night life at Mai Tai, but I was only one of about twelve people in the place. I left after the band's first set. I walked back to my car and discovered that I was parked directly in front of a dance club called Razzles. A sign said "Ladies Night" and so I walked in and was stamped on my left hand.

I could write about my experience at this place and fill about twenty pages. People is crazy... girls is crazy. I don't know why loud thumping R&B music makes women bend over and grind their rear ends up against black dudes... For a little while I was standing next to a girl whose shirt was up over her bra, was wearing a short skirt and was bent over so far her hands were on the ground, and this guy was grinding up against her butt. I walked away and later saw the same guy doing the same thing to a completely different girl.

I met some girls from Russia. I remember Jade, because the other girls had names that I couldn't figure out how to pronounce. I danced with them for about five minutes. Then they disappeared. I saw them dancing with themselves after that... I thought to myself, "am I that bad of a dancer?"

At one point, the DJ played a remix of Don't Stop Believin' by Journey. I video'd it along with the bewildered look that often make when something strange is happening:

I left the club around 2:30. Came back to the hotel and passssssssssssssssed ouuuuuuuuuuut. Which is why I am posting about Day 5 on Day 6. It's 10 and the sun is shinning. I've got my swim trunks and my flippy-floppies... I'm going to go and lay by the pool with my mp3s and confederate flag towel.

Day 4 (Vacation Diary)

2009-11-17T22:05:00.004-05:00

Today, I saw something that I have never seen in real life before...

but first: a catch up.

I woke this morning late again. I love me some sleeping in time. Got dressed, ate breakfast, and packed my stuff. Then I hopped in my lame rental car and headed off toward Ormond Beach (which is a part of Daytona Beach) and my hotel.

I felt sad leaving Tif's house. I had a blast catching up and just hanging out. Tif is fun 100 percent of the time!

My lame Hyundai Accent became a little less lame when I figured out how to change the EQ on the radio. Whoever had the care before me turned the treble way up and the bass down. WHO TURNS THE BASS DOWN!?!?!?!? No wonder I had to blast the radio just to hear the beat. I fixed the problem and felt a little bit better about driving it.

It took me a little less than an hour to get to my hotel. I checked in and brought my stuff up to my room, smelling the salty sea the entire time. Here are some pictures of my room and the view:

After getting settled and having some lunch, I lathered up in sun tan lotion and went out and laid by the pool. (*NOTE: I would have laid on the beach except it was high tide and there was literally only twenty feet of beach, which includes the area where cars can drive by). Once the sun went behind the hotel, I left the pool-side and walked the beach. Not sure how far I went, but feet were pretty tired when I returned. I swam in the heated pool and went in the jacuzzi for a bit. Then I went back to my room and took a nap.

When I woke, it was a little after five. I decided to shower and walk down to the downtown area and pier where I had seen some eateries and shopperies (shopperies??) on my way to the hotel. It seemed like it was five minutes from the downtown area and pier when I drove. Somehow, that translated into a half-an-hour/forty-five-minute walk. After a while walking, I considered turning back... then I thought, "that wouldn't be very Frodo-like." So, I kept on.

I did, however, move from walking the sidewalk to walking the beach. At this point it was dark and I could see the neon lights of a "sling-shot" ride in the distance. I took a picture:

As is illustrated in the picture, it was quite a ways away when I took the picture. I walked on, even though I decided that no matter how far I walked, I was never actually going to reach it.

I reached it.

Then I sat down for a long while and rested my aching feet. I wandered around the shops and considered attending the Mai Tai Bar that was there. There weren't many people present and so I decided to just hang out outside. After a while, I explored some of the area nearby -- a lot of places were closed -- and then started my trek back.

There were two scrubbily dressed gentlemen sitting on a bench as I walked by. One of them, (the one with no teeth) asked me if I had any pocket change to spare. I stopped and dug around in my pocket. I pulled out a dollar and asked if they knew anything about the bus schedule (I had seen the bus stop signs and the buses on my way to the shopperies, and didn't want to walk all the back). They explained that there are two buses each hour, but they hadn't seen one in a good while. I thanked them and gave them my dollar. At each bus stop that I passed, I stopped for five minutes or so and waited. No buses came by during the whole hour walk to my hotel.

On the way, I saw some weird stuff...

While waiting at one bus stop, I heard the sound of flip flops pounding the pavement. I turned to see a youngish woman running (or as close to running as you can do when wearing flip flops). She stopped behind a hotel sign "hid" for a period of time. She smoked a cigarette and then ran off behind the hotel lobby area where she disappeared for a few moments. "That was weird," I thought. Then I heard her flip flops again and she ran down the length of the hotel and disappeared in a stair well. I didn't hear her flip flips after that.

After a while of walking, I had pretty much given up on the bus began singing to myself to keep my mind off how much my feet hurt while I picked up the pace. I just wanted to get back to the hotel!!

And then I saw her. She was bouncing and walking somewhat provocatively, moving her hips back and forth and her shoulder forth and back. She was wearing a tank top, showing off her mid-driff, which I wished was hidden. Her jeans were very much too tight and they were rolled up at the bottoms. She had a very large bag and she shook her hair back and forth. She was on a corner across the street from where I was walking. She walked back and forth and around in circles. She was "working."

I had never seen a prostitute before in real life. I wondered what might have happened had I been on the other side of the street. Would she have talked to me? What would she have said? I'm sure she would suffixed any statement with "baby" or "sugar" or "honey." I was glad I was on the other side of the street.

As I walked, I thought to myself, "What a weird night!" Then I saw ANOTHER her. This time, she was cute. She seemed too cute to be a working girl. She was on the other side of the street about three blocks away from the other prostitute. She was thin and had blonde hair. I took her for a non-working girl and almost crossed to her side of the street just walk by her. Then she walked around the corner and a white pick up truck pulled up next to her. I didn't hear what was said, but she eventually got in. "HOLY CRAP!" I thought. Two prostitutes in one night! And two bums! Lucky me!!

I'll have write to my dad and say, "Where did you put me?!?" because he had set me up with the hotel.

Wild.

Anyways, I'm going to call it a night. I'll try the Mai Tai Bar tomorrow. I checked out their website and found that they'll have live music from 5:30 on. Awesome.

I think I'll take the Hyundai tomorrow. Yeah. That's what I'll do.

Day 3 (Vacation Diary)

2009-11-16T22:48:00.003-05:00

I am sleepy. So very sleepy. It's almost 11 and I've just returned from having a great dinner with Tif and her friends near Cocoa Beach. We ate at a bar and grill called (appropriately) Grills. Grills is on the inter coastal waterway (not that you needed to know that) and there was a nice breeze that kept things cool on an otherwise warmish night.

Right now, Tif is (seriously) using a nail file (at my suggestion) to fix a tooth crown that broke on her today. And it worked, apparently. So, the moral of the story is: if you ever break your tooth crown, you can use a nail file to smooth out the sharp parts and make your mouth happy.

Today's blog posting is soundtracked by the song Cape Canaveral by Conor Oberst. This is because there are a lot of signs around and to Titusville that also direct you to Cape Canaveral, which prompts me to think about -- and sing -- the song. I am listening to it on iTunes right now.

This morning, I got a late start. The alarm went off at 8:30 and I reached over (without looking) to the clock radio and hit the snooze button. Except that I didn't hit the snooze button and unintentionally turned the alarm function off. I realized this at 10:15.

After breakfast and showering, I went to Downtown Disney, which is basically a shopping/eating/being-entertained place. I grabbed a hot dog for lunch and walked through some shops. I bought some gifts at the House of Blues, spent a load of time in the Lego store, bought some more gifts and a souvenir for myself at World of Disney, and generally just hung out and enjoyed the sun and shade.

Next, I went to Old Town, which is a neat little area with shops and rides. It was a ghost town. There were literally no people besides me and shop owners. I popped in and out of shops, but didn't find anything that needed to be bought. I had an ice cappuccino and mooched some wi-fi off of a nearby restaurant.

At that time, I received a text from Tif inviting me out to dinner with her friends. I accepted (in text form) and left Old Town. I found an outlet mall and bought some shirts at the Gap and a pair of shoes that I will wear for work since I need new work shoes.

I got lost on my way back to Tif's, but arrived just in time to get changed for going out to dinner. Dinner was a lot of fun and Tif's friends -- like Tif -- are really cool people. Lots of laughs.

Here are some pictures I took at Downtown Disney. I think they are mostly self-explanatory:

(Okay. That last one needs an explanation. It's a build-your-own light saber station!! SWEET! I wanted to build one, but didn't want to pay twenty dollars to do so)

As for tomorrow... I'll be leaving my friend's place for a condo on the beach. I'm going to relax by the ocean for a bit and then head back to Orlando at night.

And on that note: it's past midnight and it's technically now day four of my vacation!

Day 2 (Vacation Diary)

2009-11-15T20:31:00.006-05:00

I am sitting at my friend Tif's house. We just got home from an adventure at Sea World! We had a fabulous time.

Firstly: a catch up.

Albany. The plane boarded a little sooner than was planned and there were only like 40 people on it so it boarded fast. We ended up landing about 30 minutes earlier than expected, which was sweet because the line for picking up the rental car was long and took forever.

I picked up my car. It's a Hyundai Accent and looks like this:

It smells a little bit like cigarettes, but I didn't realize that until after I drove away with it. It has XM Satalite Stereo, which is tough to use while you are driving to a place that you've never been before on roads that you've never driven before. I managed to get on the wrong road (according to my directions), but found a road that took me to the right place.

After a trip to the market, I ate dinner with Tif at her house. Then we went to City Walk, which is the "area" of shops and clubs and eateries and such outside of Universal Studios. We walked the City Walk and stopped at Hard Rock. I bought four guitar pins! I picked up two right away and was torn between two others. Then I just bought all four. Can't wait to add them to my collection!!

We watched a band play at Margaritaville. They didn't play Jimmy Buffet. The lead singer had long hair and a fan in front of him that blew his hair every which way. It was quite dramatic. He also sang in different voice. For example: he did Metallica with the gruff "rrrrrouff to nevah nevah land" voice and then sang Journey's Don't Stop Believin' and channeled the higher Steve Perry tone. Wicked.

This morning, we woke up at eight and went to Sea World. Below are some pictures from the day:

There is a ride called Manta that we went on twice. It was pretty insane. I'd like to find a way to describe the way you ride the ride, but I can't. Check out www.seaworld.com for pictures and a video. It was a very smooth rollercoaster, which is my favorite type. We also rode Kraken, which was an insane ride, but not smooth. And Journey to Atlantis, which turned out to be a very, very wet ride! It was somewhat like the desperado plunge at the Great Escape. But, it was that times a thousand. We got soaked and decided that it was shower number two for the day.

Shower number three was at the Shamu show. We sat in the "soak zone" and wished we hadn't. We shaw sharks in an under water viewing thing. And manatees. We pet sting rays and manta rays. (They feel slimey without the slime). I tried to pet a dolphin, but it kept just out of my reach. We saw a dolphin show. The last ride of the day was the Polar Express. It was kind of cheesy, but we got to see Santa Claus in the North Pole.

After Sea World, the car (Tif's, not the Accent) was making a funny chunka-chunka noise. We looked at each other with quizzical looks. Then we smelled the burned rubber smell. We pulled over and found that the back right tired was swiss cheese.

Here is a not-so-good picture of the swiss tire:

Luckily, Tif's boyfriend was able to come out and help us put the donut on. (She didn't have a jack). Then we came back here and played a game of Scattergories.

Tomorrow, Tif works. I'm going to do some exploring of the Orlando area. There will most likely be a stop at Downtown Disney. I think I'd like to buy some Mickey Mouse ears...

Till next time.

The Rental. Hyundai Accent.

2009-11-15T18:44:00.001-05:00

The Rental. Hyundai Accent.

Dolphin

2009-11-15T18:40:00.001-05:00

Dolphin

Shamu

2009-11-15T12:14:00.001-05:00

At Sea World. Watching a whale show. Sitting in the 'soak zone.' having a blast. Remind me to tell you about the roller coasters and getting soaked on the Antlantis ride. Right. Done texting. Back to
the show.

Shamu

Day 1 (Vacation Diary)

2009-11-14T11:55:00.006-05:00

I am sitting in the Albany International Airport wishing I had my guitar. I'm afraid to travel with it, don't want anything to happen to it. Maybe when I get some money I will buy a "travel guitar" for future travels.

There is free wi-fi here. Yay! I hope there is the same at my condo. I'm insanely early for my flight... my dad dropped me off and had an appointment to go to for work, so I couldn't get here any later. No problem. I can type. Click-clickity-click-click-click.

I should be landing around 6pm. It will be dark, but warm! I'll pick up my rental car, get my luggage, and drive to my friend Tif's house. Not sure what our plan is for tonight, but we will definitely be making plans for tomorrow. I think we are gong to hit a park. Maybe Sea World. Maybe Universal Studios. We will need to debate and weigh pros and cons of each park.

Airports are weird. Security is weird. I survived security, but only because I followed directions after making mistakes. Oh, I can wear my ring, but not my belt. Ok.

My t-shirt received a lot of positive feedback from the security team. Some said, "Is it true?" I said, "Sure is!!" and made extra comments if appropriate. One security woman said, "I would have to buy three t-shirts."

Here is a photo of my t-shirt:

There is a group of people sitting next to me at the airport Starbucks and they are talking about work related stuff. I'm going on vacation. I'm on a traveling adventure. I don't want to hear the words "office" or "cases." I wish the group of people would leave.

I look up from my clicking to see people walk by. I wonder if they read my t-shirt. I wonder where they are going. I wonder if they are alone on purpose or would rather have company.

I'm traveling alone. This is not the first time I've traveled alone like this. The last time, I was 18 and I was going to Nebraska. That time, I stayed for two weeks. This time, I'll only be staying for six days.

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Here is a rather silly picture I took at work after winning a "prize" for participating during a training:

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One of the people that I am sitting next to asked the other people, "What do you call a man with no arms and no legs who is in a pool?" "Bob," I said. Then he said, "What do you call a man with no arms and no legs who is on the floor in front of a door?" "Matt!" I said, "Sorry to interrupt." The he said, "What do you call a man with no arms and no legs who is on a grill?" I didn't know the answer... He said, "Frank."

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I am going to log off blogger in a sec and play some farmville and get a coffee. Then I'm going to go and sit by the terminal. I think they said it's terminal C3. I'll check before going there. In six hours I'll be in Orlando!! WOOOOOOOO!!!!

Halloween. Subract Horror. Add Whore-er. Repeat.

2009-11-01T15:14:00.005-05:00

Why do we dress up on Halloween? I know why I dress up. Because it's cool to hide yourself and be someone else for a period of time. The more covered up my face is the better. But, seriously, why this tradition?

A quick google search gave me this result on the origin of Halloween:

This Halloween (or All Hallows' Eve, in its proper name) the streets will fill with children looking for sugar highs, parents dreading dentist bills, teens looking for mischief and the party crowd celebrating at any excuse.

But that's not how it started.

Halloween is the modern incarnation of the Celtic festival of Samhain (pronounced Sah-ween, because Celtic spellings and pronunciations are worlds apart), which was first celebrated about 1000 B.C. Most Celtic European cultures had some sort of commemoration of Samhain on Nov. 1, the Celtic new year. Activities began on Oct. 31, the last day of the old year, the day of the last harvests before frost set in. It was the day that farmers would decide which of their livestock to slaughter in order to survive the winter. It was also the day that the line between the living and dead blurred.

The eve of Samhain was one filled with merriment and games, but also superstition and danger. The Celts believed that dead spirits as well as demons, fairies and other haunts freely intermingled with the living people. That was a happy thought in that ones beloved relatives were able to dance and sing right alongside their descendants, but it was also a very dangerous predicament in regard to the not-so-beloved deceased. The night of Samhain eve, the people would make sacrifices to keep themselves and their children safe from the darker spirits.

Most Celtic cultures of Europe had a celebration of Samhain similar to this, but, in America, our true Halloween heritage comes from the celebrations of a particular Celtic country: Ireland.

Irish lore dictated that on the eve of Samhain, the Morrighan, Celtic goddess of death, sex and rebirth (to name a few) would meet up with her love, the Daghda, who was the Irish god of light and life. They would procreate while straddling the river Unius, symbolically joining the lands of death and life for the year to come. The child that they created on the eve of Samhain would become the new year, and would relinquish its hold to the next child they created in that manner.

This bizarre union was necessary in the Irish-Celtic culture, in that it preserved the balance of life and death, light and dark. If one were to overpower the other, then the chaos of Samhain's eve would last for a year.

Now, fast-forward to about 600 A.D. The Romans and, in turn, Christians took over the previously Celtic-pagan countries. They realized that to try to stop such strong festivals as Samhain would be futile, so instead, Pope Boniface IV declared November 1 "All Saints' Day," or alternately, "All Hallows' Day." In this way, the Church allowed festivities celebrating life on that day, and allowed the darker activities concerning the dead on the night before, All Hallows' Evening, or Halloween.

(http://media.www.washburnreview.org/media/storage/paper1140/news/2009/10/28/Ae/Halloween.Origins.Steeped.In.Celtic.Traditions-3815977.shtml)

It doesn't say anything about dressing up and begging your neighbors for candy. Nor does it say anything about two dollar bud-lights or cover bands. It does, however, mention spirits, demons, and fairies -- among other things.

So why do we dress up?
History.com has this to say:

The American tradition of "trick-or-treating" probably dates back to the early All Souls' Day parades in England. During the festivities, poor citizens would beg for food and families would give them pastries called "soul cakes" in return for their promise to pray for the family's dead relatives.

The distribution of soul cakes was encouraged by the church as a way to replace the ancient practice of leaving food and wine for roaming spirits. The practice, which was referred to as "going a-souling" was eventually taken up by children who would visit the houses in their neighborhood and be given ale, food, and money.

The tradition of dressing in costume for Halloween has both European and Celtic roots. Hundreds of years ago, winter was an uncertain and frightening time. Food supplies often ran low and, for the many people afraid of the dark, the short days of winter were full of constant worry. On Halloween, when it was believed that ghosts came back to the earthly world, people thought that they would encounter ghosts if they left their homes. To avoid being recognized by these ghosts, people would wear masks when they left their homes after dark so that the ghosts would mistake them for fellow spirits. On Halloween, to keep ghosts away from their houses, people would place bowls of food outside their homes to appease the ghosts and prevent them from attempting to enter.

(http://www.history.com/content/halloween/real-story-of-halloween/today-s-traditions)

Again, it talks about ghosts and spirits. Which is what I thought when I was invited to dress up as a cowboy for Halloween... A dead cowboy? Nope. Just a cowboy. I was also invited to a lumberjack theme Halloween party... ghosts of lumberjacks? No. Living lumberjacks.

Is anyone else confused?

Halloween has come so far from what it's meant to be that people just don't get why they are dressing up. Most of the costumes that you see at any given Halloween gathering have nothing to do with ghosts, demons, spirits, fairies, etc. The sublime purpose of the holiday is completely lost. The fright is gone and is replaced with silly. And the horror is replaced with whore-er.

On Friday, I dressed up as Eric Draven (Gothic hero of The Crow). I was dead as I wandered through waves of people at the party I attended. I went with three very much alive cowboys, a vibrantly living football referee, a football player with a pulse, a sexy gypsy, and a sexy cop. I wondered if we were trying to celebrate a holiday or show off our legs (all of which were perfect, I must add).

There were plenty of superheroes at the party. They were living. And very many living whores. (I should add that the whores I am referencing are most certainly just regular every day women dressing up as whores for the party and are not whores all the time -- or so I assume. I didn't take a poll). There were sexy cops. Sexy cab drivers. Sexy nurses. Sexy dancers. Sexy this. And Sexy that. And whatnot. There was the occasional sexy witch and various sexy princesses, which I am going to arbitrarily allow into the spirit, ghost, demon, fairy, genre due to the nature in which most princesses exist: fairy tales where magic co-exists with (most often) demons, ghosts, spirits, fairies, and such like. You typically don't' find whores in fairy tales, however.

Anyways, there is nothing overly scary about a scantily clad woman... wait. I changed my mind.

That night, as I wandered through the crowd, dressed in black and face painted black and white like some freakish circus clown or creepy mime, I occasionally found myself among a sexy cop or a sexy princess. I was hand-cuffed at one point. And it illicited a strange reaction. My heart began to beat faster. My eyes became worried. Fear crept in to me. What was she going to do next? What am I supposed to do next? Anything can happen and the uncertainty is scary. The uncertainty was certainly sublime.

I dressed up as a dead thing to celebrate Halloween with all matter of whores and such. And even though most of the costumes didn't fit appropriately with the purpose of the holiday, some contributed to the sensation that Halloween is meant to illicit. Sublime.

And as a cover band played "Santeria" and the misguided whore-ish looking girls sang along loudly with their tight skirts, lacy stockings, and leather boots, I truly felt the spirit of Halloween pulse through my veins. Anything can happen. It was a sublime evening after all.

A Short Blog About The Shortest Time I've Ever Spent In A Bar

2009-11-01T11:33:00.002-05:00

Halloween. The party I was intending on going to was canceled last minute due to the host being ill. I was lucky enough to find a friend from high school who wanted to go out for a drink. We met at Partner's Pub in Johnstown and chatted and watched the Yankees Games -- even though neither of us could have cared what happened. It was a fun time. Afterwards, we walked to the Miss Johnstown Diner -- the legendary greasy spoon. My friend went home and I started to walk myself home. Then I realized that if I spent a little more time out, I might be good enough to drive home. So, I walked to a different bar: O'Connors.

I ran into a friend outside and chatted with her for a moment. Then I went in to see if there was anyone else I knew. I walked toward the back of the crowded bar, weaving in and out of groups of people that were milling about. I found myself face to face with a scantily clad girl. She was very ugly. She took my hat off (the fedora) and put it on her head. She start gyrating to the ghetto music that was playing. She moved closer to me and soon grinding on my leg. I'm certain a photograph of the moment would have revealed a shocked expression on my face. After another moment, she put my hat back on my head. It was crooked and I went to fix it. The next thing I knew she had my face in her hands and her creepy lips were coming at me faster than I could respond. She kissed me. She pulled back. I turned my head toward the door. And I left.

I sat on some steps around the corner for 15 minutes. Then walked to my car. I was safe driving home.

Drinks with a friend: treat. Kiss by an ugly girl at the bar: trick.

Halloween

2009-10-31T18:17:00.002-04:00

It's six o'clock and trick or treat has begun in my town. It's raining and dreary and I'm certain that trick or treaters are soaked and sobbing as they trip over their costumes up people's porches for a fun size candy bar. It would be a hell of a lot cheaper use up less time to just go to the store and buy a bag of candy rather than buying a costume. I'm just thinking logistically.

I'm home and most likely will be for the night. A party that I was invited to was canceled due to the host's unsuspected being sick. I'm hoping to go out tonight, but my friends are not. They are staying in because of the late night last night.

Last night, was a block party. I dressed up as the Crow (picture in previous post) and hated it. The make up took forever to put on, didn't come out good to begin with, and felt strange on my face. It was hard to wash off and I look creepy in all of the pictures that were taken. (Wait. That last part is a good thing. It was a Halloween party! You're supossed to look creepy! Why do we celebrate Halloween? To dress up as princes and race car drivers? NO! NO! NO! We are supossed to honor the dead... by dressing up as creepy DEAD things!). I ran into old friends from high school and got caught up with their happenings. I caught them up on many of my happenings. I didn't want to leave. But, I did.

It was the latest night I've had in a long time. Turned in at 5am! It was almost a 24 hour awakeness. I'm tired. But, in the mood for more socializing.

Draven

2009-10-30T21:11:00.001-04:00

This is me on Halloween. Rather its the night before Halloween. I feel somewhat stupid... And i don't like this stiff on my face... Also, there is aparently a joke from South Park about dressing up as
The Crow. Still. I'm off to a costume party. And I'm wearing a costume...

Draven

Four -- Only Four Ways

2009-10-25T15:54:00.002-04:00

I came across this article titled Four Ways to Sweep Him Off His Feet (never mind that I found it in Cosmo magazine, and nevermind why I read it either). What I find intriguing about the article is that it only mentions "four" ways to get a guy -- only four. And that is because it doesn't really take a whole lot. Truth be told, as I read the list I thought to myself, "if I could find a woman who would do one of these things once a month, I would think I found the holy grail." It's true. These are the four things that a woman needs to do. Just four. Only four things. Four. That's all. Seriously. There aren't any more.

Something else that I thought was, "why don't they have 'Four Ways to Sweep HER Off HER Feet'?" And then I answered it.

If there were only "four" things that a man had to do to win a woman, life would be easy. Simple. Fun. Enjoyable. However, my jaded self is here to tell you that you have to do a lot more than four things in order to sweep her off her feet. I'd write the article right now except that I don't really want to commit the next two years to listing every one of the Ten-million-six-hundred-and-ninety-three-thousand-five-hundred-and-four Ways to Sweep Her Off Her Feet.

Instead, I'll just post the Cosmo article and reiterate that there are only FOUR things a woman needs to do to sweep a man off his feet. Four.

4 Ways to Sweep Him Off His Feet
By R. A. Campos

Ladies, let me break it down for you. If you want to turn your man to jelly, save the sappy stuff and keep the passion plays simple. Our definition of romance is totally different from yours. Big hint: It does not include poetry or long-stemmed roses. Seriously, nothing says “I love you” to a dude like an unexpected six-pack of beer. We’re that easy. Check out the other gestures that will earn you girlfriend-of-the-year honors.

Suggest a Sexcapade
We’re not averse to a romantic roll in the hay; it’s just that lighting candles and scattering flower petals on the sheets doesn’t qualify. Instead, why not treat your guy to steamy circus sex moves...in costume? Okay, I tried. You don’t have to be an acrobat in bed, but switch things up from time to time: Fulfill a fantasy, consult the Kama Sutra, try anything that’s not routine. “My fiancée and I were in a bookstore when I admitted that the ol’ sexy librarian image does it for me,” says Rudy, 24. “The next day, she met me at my place dressed the part. She peered over her glasses, pulled out her bun, and said ‘Do you need help finding your Longfellow?’ I couldn’t get naked fast enough.”

Free Him from Family
Bonding with your folks is important. We get that. But once we’re down with Dad, don’t make us suffer through every family function. If you excuse your guy from attending a family affair every now and then (no guilt trips allowed), he’ll worship you for weeks afterward. If you don’t he’ll end up feeling like Mike, 27, who says “Having weekly Sunday dinners with my girlfriend and her whole family has started to make me feel resentful. I wind up talking politics with her uncle when all I want is to be home, sprawled out on my own couch.”

Indulge with Him
The old saying holds true: The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. But unlike you, we’re not looking to be wined and dined at some fancy-ass restaurant with entrées we can’t pronounce. Nope, we just want to get our eat on with you. “I get so turned off when a woman is so rigid about her diet that she never sways from her order of grilled chicken over salad,” says Tom, 28. “There’s nothing more endearing than a chick who throws caution to the wind once in a while and goes for a burger with cheese.” Browse Local Singles At Match.com

Offer a Challenge
Guys get juiced over a little friendly competition. But facing off with your man doesn’t require major athletic skills. Take us on in bowling, cards, or even a video game and we’re bound to get hot and bothered. “I had a girlfriend who’d invite me to play darts with her every time we entered a bar,” says Tony, 24. “She’d bet me things like loser opens the winner’s car door for a week. The challenge totally fueled me. It was like foreplay.” Any babe who beats us is guaranteed a rematch.

A Sunday Night in Mid-October

2009-10-18T19:53:00.002-04:00

I'm sitting on the sectional couch, which is my bed, in my living room. Cold Case Files is on TV, but I haven't been watching it since it started. I have no idea what they are invistigating... in fact, what they are doing right now doesn't seem to match up with the story I thought I was watching... anyways, I'm wearing warm clothes (sweater, thick jeans) and there are pillows and blankets on all sides. I'm comfortable. My laptop is on my lap and the gentle clicking sound of the keyboard interrupts the TV show as I type.

It's gotten cold out... however, it's colder than it should be this time of year. I love October because things die. Leaves... mostly. And flowers and other plants. I don't love the fact that things die -- don't get me wrong. I love the somber tone that accompanies the death. It's a somer time of year.

Regarding Somber: I have been using the term quite a lot lately. I use it to describe my songs, the way I feel at times... I enjoy somber things and enjoy describing them as such.

This weekend has been a lazy one. I felt run-down -- like I'm coming down with a cold. I spent most of Saturday on the couch drinking water, orange juice, and taking vitamins.

Friday night, I went to see Zombieland with my friend Bill. It was quite a hilarious movie, which requires another viewing some time. There was a moment before the movie where I was hit with some serious perspective. While waiting in line before going into the theater, we overheard the conversation that was taking place behind us. Now, I consider myself to be somewhat of a nerd. My friend Bill is certainly a nerd. However, we are not nearly uber nerds. The group behind us in line was talking about using light-sabers to decimate zombie armies. They discussed this for at least 30 minutes bringing up arguments for and against the chosen weapon. Bill and I laughed at them later on and agreed that only uber nerds would cross genres in such a way. Silly uber nerds...

Thursday night, I hosted open mic. I played Frozen and Passenger, both of which are my own tunes. It was a good night, although, it lasted a little longer than I would have liked. It was chilly and the night was somber when I left.

I have made a new friend at open mic. Joanna Schubert is a Skidmore student and phenomenal songwriter/pianist. She often brings friends with her and they always seem to be silly, fun-loving people.

Late Night Ramblings of an Insane Insomniac

2009-10-05T23:41:00.003-04:00

I'm awake. It's going on midnight. This might not seem very late to some, but to me it's late. I'm typically an early-to-bed/late-to-rise type of guy. Especially when it's a Monday.

I decided to give up on trying to talk myself into sleep and logged on the interweb in search of... something... nothing... I forget. I eventually ended up here.

I adopted a kitten. Her name is Oreo because she is black and white. She is full of energy and loud "meows." She crawls up things (pant legs, chair legs, stool legs, curtains, walls) and runs from you to the wall to the cat toy back to you to the cat toy to the chair to the wall to the curtain to you to nothing in particular. Repeat multiple times. I have tried to pick her up and settle her down, but have failed. She fights when she gets picked up. I was shown earlier today by a cat enthusiest how to pick her up and prevent her from squirming away. This method has worked for me a little bit since I learned it.

I feed the kitten. Give it water. Give it "lovins" (IE: pet it and attempt to pick it up). I play with it... I mean her. I sort of like having the kitten at my house. I think I will like it more once she starts to settle down and grows out of her ADHD phase. And stops climbing on things... and being so needy.

Right now Oreo is living in the backroom of my house. This way she won't get into things while I'm sleeping or get woken up at night and wake me up. My hope is that she will eventually sleep through the night on my feet or something. It's nice to not sleep alone.

Anyways, I'm starving. I had a half of a sandwich at Panera Bread for dinner. I don't want to eat a midnight snack, however... and so I continue to starve when I should be sleeping.

Today was an accomplishing sort of day. Still, it was unfullfilling. Perhaps that is why I am unable to sleep. I haven't fulfilled myself yet.

I had a good time this past weekend. Went out with some friends Saturday. Spent Sunday sleeping.

Sleep is fulfilling...

I'm looking forward to seeing the photographs that were taken Saturday night. They tell a story, sort of. The story of what you did. Which seems rather obvious and most probably did not need to be pointed out by myself.

In other words, I should go to sleep.

I watched a couple videos of me playing at Caffe Lena. Only, it wasn't me that I was watching. It was James Frederick. He looked very comfortable on stage and with the guitar in his hands. He was confident with his songs and strums. It certainly wasn't me because I never feel that way (comfortable and confident). Never. Okay, you should never say never... Rarely is a better fit.

Right now I feel hungry and tired... and uncomfortable laying on the couch. I am, however, confident that I'm not going to fall asleep any time soon.

Luckily, I will be in a training all day at work tomorrow. That's not to say that I can sleep through the training. In fact, I plan to pay attention and get something out of it. Rather, I won't have to think hard enough to make any decisions or choices. I can just sit. Listen. And take in.

Okay. Here we go. Logging off and trying to go to sleep. Wish me luck.

(PS -- I am not spell-checking this. Nor am I going to proof read. And I won't apologize for it either).

A Brief Discussion on Rules (and some other junk)

2009-09-30T20:39:00.003-04:00

Wednesday night. Curled up on my couch with six blankets on top of me (no joke! I'm still freezing!) and I'm downloading music. I saw two great live concerts on the HD channel recently and decided I needed to download the songs. The concerts were Coldplay (don't hate me) and Franz Ferdinand. Listening to Franz Ferdinand as the downloads are coming. I'm going to burn a disc so I can play these bands in the car. I need some new drivin' tunes.

This past week at open mic was a good one. I played Endless and Wildflowers by Tom Petty.

Here is the video that Jeffrey T. took of my song:

At this point, I'd like to have a little discussion about rules.

There are a lot of rules that we follow as individuals on a daily basis. Most rules protect us from purposely or not-so-purposely inflicting others with injuries, death, or other not-injury-or-death-related things. For example: when driving and the traffic light turns red, one stops -- which prevents one from running into other cars, pedestrians, and seeing-eye-dogs. In such instances where traffic lights turn red, and the rules are followed, people do not become injured or dead. In such instances, rules are helpful to individuals and society.

There are many types of rules. Some rules we learn as children and they help us reach adulthood. For example: look both ways before crossing the street; and/or mom and dad have to check your Halloween candy for needles BEFORE you eat it. Ouch. Ever had a Reese's peanut butter and needle cup? If you had had one, you'll not have forgotten it.

Some rules, we learn as adults. For example: mail in your taxes by April 15th.

These rules protect us and society and we learn them and follow them because we know that if we don't, we'll face certain consequences including injury and death... or jail.

Some rules, however, we follow blindly and don't question. We have never dealt with consequences for the rules, but people in our lives have ingrained them in our heads. As such, we don't break the rules.

Such rules are often of the type that don't result in injury or death and, yet, we follow them for no other reason than because people have told us to.

These are rules that need to be tested.

Why? Because the people who have told us these rules have not tested them. They simply were told to follow them and blindly did so.

I have begun to test rules that I have followed blindly for much of my life.

Why? Because there is no one around to stop me.

Recently, I was dumping a basket of dirty clothes into the washer. If you have seen me and took notice of my clothing on multiple occasions, you can probably guess that it was a load of dark clothes (a.k.a. "darks"). Much of my attire is black or dark gray or deep shades of blues or greens. I own two pairs of Khaki colored pants... but that's beside the point...

As the clothes were dumped into the washer, I noted an anomaly. A white shirt was intermixed.

I pulled the shirt, which is a t-shirt I wear to sleep in (it was a gift and I didn't want to waste it, but don't want to wear it in public), out of the washing machine and tossed it in a separate laundry basket that beheld "whites." The aforementioned "whites" that resided in the basket were a pair of socks and the t-shirt.

I paused for a moment, staring at the basket and three items of clothing that it beheld. My mind did some quick reasoning (QUESTION: how long will it take before I have a "full load" of "whites" in this basket? ANSWER: Three Months).

Not wanting to wait three months before I had a full load of white clothing to put in the washing machine, I made a wicked decision.

I only thought about it for a second or two. Then, I pulled the "whites" out of the basket and tossed them into the washing machine with my "darks."

I'd lie if I didn't say I was slightly concerned that the world might end. Or I would open the washing machine door later that day and find a wormhole to the underworld where my laundry should be.

With excitement and a little fear, I closed the door to the washing machine. Then I laughed a villainous laugh and went upstairs to play Farmville.

I returned an hour or so later and opened the door carefully. No underwordly demons... good. I pulled my laundry out slowly and inspected every few pieces as I put them in the dryer. I took extra time to look at the white socks and white t-shirt.

My conclusion? Break rules. Some of them are bullshit. My "whites"? White. My "darks"? Dark. My washing machine? Not a portal to hell.

What rule will I break next? Shoes. I have been leaving them on the floor by the door where I kicked them off after coming home from wherever. Thus far, they have not grown arms and legs and attempted to murder me in my sleep. I will continue test this rule and report back periodically.

Even so, there are other rules that need to be tested. Let me know if you have any that you are reluctant to try on your own. I will be the rule tester and make reports. All I need is a rule: like separating "whites" and "darks" and a hypothesis: like this rule is bullshit.

Science.

A Lament For A Fallen Comrade

2009-09-23T19:55:00.002-04:00

Today, we say our farewells to a comrade who has served well for many years. We salute your service in a lament, Black Band T-Shirt, for being all that you have been.

When I purchased you, Black Band T-Shirt, from the internet store of a favorite band, I held no expectations for you other than to fit. And fit you did. Though, you didn't fit like every other small t-shirt that I owned. Nay. Black Band T-Shirt, your fit was far superior.

Across the chest, you were loose in such a way that allowed me full range of motions, but tight enough to give the illusion of slight pecs. In the waist, you fit snuggly allowing others to see and envy my thinness. In the shoulders, you were perfectly taught, without pulling on and stretching the neck-hole like lesser t-shirts. Your sleeves were long enough... but not too long... and that was good.

For years, I wore you sparingly and to events in which I wanted to look my best. No other t-shirt that I owned, Black Band T-Shirt, would have been up to the task. For years, you didn't fade; you held the very essence of the color black. While other t-shirts faded and were retired to other uses (pajamas, working out attire, mowing the lawn attire, dust rags), you continued to fight the good fight.

It wasn't until you were in your later years that you were reassigned to pajama duty. And even then, you hadn't lost your fit.

And so you served me well, Black Band T-Shirt. It is with great pride that we lament your servitude and do not indulge in sorrow for your loss. You shall be remembered for your fit and not the moment of horror before you were delivered to your final resting place. You superior blackness shall forever be sang in song... the image of the hole torn in your arpit shall forever be erased from my mind.

Beard or No

2009-09-19T22:15:00.001-04:00

Took this picture earlier while at the diner after playing at the farmer's market. I am rather unshaven... Not sure how long it will stay this way. Thoughts? Questions? Concerns? Your feedback is
quite welcome.

Beard or No

Frozen

2009-09-19T17:06:00.002-04:00

I played at the Farmer's Market in Gloversville today. It was FREEZING in the shade, which is where I was asked to set up my equipment. I noticed the chill in the air at 8:30 when I got there and thought, "it's a sunny day; it will warm up quick." It didn't warm up AT ALL. I froze the entire two sets. In between, I went and sat in my car, which was warm. However, this turned out to make the returning to the cold shade more difficult. I should have just stayed and played. At one point, I thought, "I'll move around alot while playing and that will keep me warm." It didn't. And I felt rather silly moving about so much. Even so, I did fairly decent with tips and received many good comments and awed looks from children. "When I grow up, I wanna be just like him!! Good looking AND talented! He must get a lot of girls!!!" Kids. They're cute, but delusional.

Anyways, previously to me waking up at 7:30 to get to the gig, I slept for a little less than four hours. Before that, I was falling asleep in the back seat of my friend's car as we drove home from Saratoga. Before that, I was in Saratoga closing down the bars with some friends. Before that, I was having a blast playing darts, watching (NOT playing) beer pong, dancing to a live band, having my picture taken with people that I was with, and other tomfoolery. Before that, I had dinner at Applebees with my friends who said, "We're going to Saratoga tonight. You should come." "No," I said, "I am spent. Long week. Need to rest up before my gig at the Farmer's Market." "I have to get up early too," said friend-who-shall-remain-nameless, "we're not going to stay up too late; we'll be home by one for sure." "Well," I said, "alright." We got home at 3ish. I vaguely recall looking at my watch and seeing it say 1:30 and thinking, "Heeyyyyyyyy. It's gonna take 45 minutes to get home..."

The battle cry for the night was, "I'll sleep when I'm dead!"

I slept. I very well may be dead.

I slept again. In fact, I just woke up from a nap and was excited to see sunshine. Then, I freaked out for a minute and wondered if I had slept through until Sunday... or 2010.

After the gig this morning, I took my tips and went to the local diner for lunch-fast. I had eggs and toast and bacon. Oh. And home fries, of course. For some reason I was dying for eggs after the gig. And I was starving. Didn't really have time to eat much between getting up and getting to the market.

The diner felt strange. The waitress was... odd. She was sort of robotic. She was robo-waitress. I can't explain why I felt this way. It just may have been because she didn't really respond to anything that I did or said and just talked to me in scripts... like a robot.

My house is a mess and I have a list of things I need to do this weekend. Including: putting in the storm windows (it's gonna be COLD tonight); putting a way my PA system, which is currently scattered on my back porch; paying bills that I didn't mail out in time and will have to do them online; laundry; dishes; and possibly grocery shopping.

I was going to buy some food at the Farmer's Market... but they all packed up their stuff faster than I packed up mine and by the time I was ready to walk around and buy stuff, everyone was already pulling away from the pavilion.

I didn't get any food. Normally, some of the vendors leave me some of their veggies or bread or whatnot as thanks-for-playing. Last year, I gave out my CD as thanks-in-return. Maybe that's why they don't give me food anymore... "Don't give him anything! He'll give us more of his depressing music!!!!"

Alright. It's Saturday. I have stuff to do, but it's Saturday. If I get some of this done, I'm going out. It's cold, but it's Saturday!

SLEEP WHEN I'M DEAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Cookies and Cream

2009-09-16T19:54:00.002-04:00

Tonight I decided I would take a walk. Once I had my sneakers on and my hoodie zipped up, I decided I would walk some place that had ice cream. That some place turned out to be Stewart's and the ice cream that I got was cookies and cream. On my way home, which was a different way than my way there, I realized something about my town: it feels like a different town when you are walking it than when you are driving it. In fact, I felt like I was in some one else's town and the people in cars that drove by were people who didn't live in my town and who most certainly didn't know me. It was an odd feeling and the ice cream melted quicker than I thought it would.

Interestingly enough, I developed my thoughts about being a stranger in my own town after running into a friend and her tiny, cute dog at Stewart's. So strange that you can go from having a conversation with someone you know to feeling like you are some place other than the place that you've lived for the past eighty-five percent of your life.

Now that I'm back home (and have shedded my hoodie and sneakers), I feel like I'm home. Which is a really good thing considering recent developments in my life. I'm sitting in my dining room and I'm listening to an old Wallflowers CD. To my right is the hallway, which leads to the living room, which is doubling as my bedroom for the time being. Truth be told, I'm generally happy about where I sleep at night and am looking forward to crawling into couch (bed) soon for a semi-good night's sleep (how good of a night's sleep can you get on a couch?).

I have a lot friends who have offered services and support in the last few weeks and have discovered that people who are mostly in your life physically to occupy your time are also people who are in your life to provide emotional support.

It's good. And this posting most likely doesn't make any sense to most of the people reading it... which is also good.

Music. Yes. That's what this blog is all about. I'll be playing at and hosting Caffe Lena's open mic Thursday night. Looking forward to it as always. I missed last week due to being sick. Saturday, I'm playing at the Farmer's Market in Gloversville. Looking forward to that, as well.

Labor Day Weekend

2009-09-05T17:17:00.003-04:00

Everyone should be forced to work on Labor Day. Then, we should have every other day of the year off... right? Wouldn't that make more sense? I have a three day weekend because of "Labor" day... Regular everyday stuff confuses me.

Currently, I am in Uncommon Grounds on Broadway in Saratoga. Had a late lunch. Wandered around a bit. Read. Played FarmVille on facebook.

My plan is to go to Gaffney's at 9 to see Bluesology play. I have a few more hours to read or type or whatever.

I had a rather horrid day at work yesterday. It was the first really bad day that I've had since working this job, which I have been working for one month short of a full year. I suppose that it is a good percentage of good days to bad ones. My co-workers were incredibly supportive and stopped what they were doing to lend an ear or some advice on how to deal with the situation that was making my dad horrid. I'm really glad for the support and companionship that was offered. Otherwise, the day would have been much MUCH more horrid.

Earlier today I mowed my lawn. After doing so, I walked around with a broom and brushed the grass clippings off the sidewalk and such. I noticed a bunch of spiderwebs on the sides of the front steps. In one of the spiderwebs was a giant florescent yellow Caterpillar! It was working its way out of the web while I watched it. Suddenly, out of a corner of the steps, a HUGE spider appeared. It was the size of Shelob (which is the name of the giant spider in Lord of the Rings) and caused me to jump back a bit. I don't like spiders. I don't mind caterpillars much and so I decided to intervene. The spider disappeared into the steps again, and I destroyed its web, rescuing the Caterpillar in the process.

I took a picture of the Caterpillar. Not sure if I'll post it or not.

Uncommon Grounds is great for laptop work. However, it's much too loud for reading. If I decide to read more, which is probably what I'll do, I will leave. I may stop back, though, and check email and such.

Recently, I reconnected with an friend that I had been disconnected from for a few years. We've been exchanging email and giving each other assignments (for example: take pictures of the ocean, listen to such and such song, write a poem, etc.). She currently, lives in Florida and makes me long for the ocean by telling me about her walks on the beach. i very much enjoy reading her emails and am excited when they arrive and disappointed when a day goes by without one. Recently, she told me that she was having a rough spot and without going into too many details about it, I called her to see how she was doing. We made jokes and laughed and mostly ignored the rough spot that I had originally called about. During the conversation, which was taking place on the fire escape at Caffe Lena on Open Mic Night this past Thursday, I was hit with something in the back of my head on my hat. There was a 'shhhhhhhhhhh' type sound and water splashing. Water, about a gallon's worth, came off of the room and poured itself on me. It also got on my phone, shoulder, and right leg. This further lightened the conversation and increased the ridiculousness of me randomly being rained on by unidentified roof liquid when -- five-minutes later -- I was rained on a second time. Later on, I explained the story of being rained on and received replies like, "Oh. It happened to you too, eh?" and "Don't worry. It comes from the air conditioner." Thankfully, it's not toilet water.

A lot of times you see people come into a place like Uncommon Grounds and order their food, or coffee, or what-have-you, find a place to sit and proceed to do something like eat, drink, read a book or the newspaper, or work on a laptop or call a friend on their cell phones. A lot of times, these people are alone and you wonder, do they want to be alone? or would like some company? What is going on in their lives? Some of them are very happy and cheerful and talk to their cell phones in excited tones. Other's of them are more somber and work quietly or read. Even other's look around and gently smile at passerbys who are looking for their seat. If you walked into Uncommon Grounds, you would see one such person looking up from his laptop as you walk by. You would most likely notice his hat first. Then you might notice the gentle smile. You might not catch the loneliness in his eyes or the desire that he seeks your companionship. You may not know or care that he wonders about you: where you are going, what you are up to, what kind of music you enjoy, what book you are reading. Ignore the fact that he is typing a blog about you, random person. That's not creepy at all...

Okay, blogging done.

The Track and Back

2009-08-30T17:25:00.002-04:00

I'm at Uncommon Grounds on Sunday. Earlier today, I went to the track. I went with 40 dollars to spend on making bets. I cashed out with 18. So, consider the cost of getting in, the hot dog, the pretzel, the water, and the parade magazine, the whole day was a break-even kind of day. Since I didn't spend anything for five hours worth of entertainment (and excitement: I actually hit TWO superfectas and a trifecta!!! Too bad they were on tiny bets. Rather, I spent a lot on various bets), I've decided to see the Honeycutters play at Caffe Lena tonight. The Honeycutters are based out of South Carolina (I believe) and are fronted by a former Caffe Lena regular, Amanda Platt. Last time I saw Amanda play, she played with the lead guitarist of her band at open mic... maybe... a year and a half ago. She sounded amazing. She well-rounded in her playing and confidence, as oppossed to the rougher and less-confident Amanda that I remembered from open mic's passed. I'm interested to see how she has further developed as a musician. And her band should be real cool.

I wrote this while at the track:

I’m at the track. Saratoga time in the summer. Horses and hats. I’m at the horse racing track and I’m wearing a hat. It doesn’t get much more Saratoga than this. It’s cool and that makes me happy. I did a lot of walking to get here. You see, parking can suck during track season so I made a decision. My choice was to park on or near Broadway, walk to Uncommon Grounds, have brunch, walk to the hat shop, drive to the track, not find a place to park, park two miles away and walk to the track. OR (and this is what I did) park close to the track before it got crowded, walk back to Broadway, brunch, hat shop, walk back to the track. I’m not sure I made the right choice, because I am a little spent from the long walk to Broadway and back… Still, it won’t be far to walk from the track to my car.

I posted a picture of the new feather in my hat. Before buying it, I tried on a few other styles of hats that were similar to my own. I didn’t like them very much. Mine has a short brim, which is something that the other’s did not have and thus made me look very awkward. So I bought the feather and went on my way.

I don’t know what I’m doing here at the track… betting on horse, of course, but I seriously don’t know what I’m doing. On my way in, people yelled, “PINK SHEETS. ONE DOLLAR!” I looked at one girl who was selling pink sheets and told her that I have a ‘green sheet,’ which was free. I picked it up on Broadway. The girl was wearing a pink shirt and she gave me an evil eye. “Damn greet sheets,” she probably thought.

I read through my green sheet and also the parade magazine. I crossed out the scratches when the loudspeaker announced them. I made some notes about jockey changes. Finally, I circled some numbers on the first race.

I don’t why I circled those particular numbers. I am going to do a boxed exacta with three horses. If any of the three come in first and second, I win money.

I don’t have any real rhyme or reason for choosing the horses I did. I don’t go by names or lucky numbers. I don’t pick horses based on what colors they wear or the jockey’s name or winning streak. I just do what feels right. Some times that pays off.

Mostly, I’ll read over the parade magazine with my pen in my hand. I’ll make notes. I’ll circle numbers. I’ll look contemplative and even chew on my pen. I might purse my lips and lean my pen against my chin. I’ll make some more notes or scribble something out vigorously. Then I’ll tap my pen on the page and nod my head as if I just solved a difficult mathematical equation.

People who are watching me may think I have discovered something particularly secretive as I quickly fold up my paper and go to the betting machine. Or they may think that I’m just another dude pretending to know what he is doing.

If someone were to talk to me about which horses I picked and why, I would say, “these ones,” and I would show them my magazine. I wouldn’t answer their second question. If they persisted, I would just shrug my shoulders. Maybe I would say, “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Currently, I have my laptop sitting in front of me. Some people probably think I am using it to analyze numbers. They are mistaken. I am typing this. Later, I may work on my screen play. Yes. I have a screen play. It is almost finished in its first draftiness. It will need to be re-written and put into proper format. Where it stands now, I just need to write the ending and I finally figured how that will go.

Right. Well, It’s post time. I have to go place my wager.

I took some pictures at the track, but my computer isn't wanting to connect with my phone right now... they aren't stellar pictures anyway... they were taken on a freaking phone, after all.

Stuck a Feather

2009-08-30T11:53:00.001-04:00

I'm walking in saratoga. And texting at the same tome (time... Damn it). On my way to the track. First and probably last time this year. Stopped off at the hat store. Tried some on. Like my current
hat best. Bought a new feather for it though. Sucked the old one up in a vaccuum long ago. Here is a pic of the new feather. The old one had more color to it (red and yellow) but this one will do.

Stuck a Feather

Ragweed

2009-08-26T19:01:00.004-04:00

I hate ragweed. On my way to work every day, I pass this house where there is some ragweed growing in the side yard. Every day, I silently curse this person and swear to return with a flame thrower...

At the moment, my allergies aren't bothering me too much. I took sudafed, allegra, clariton, flonase, and astelin. I was in bad shape at work and decided to take some sick time. That's when I came home and popped the sudafed, took a nap, and am now feeling better. People at work explained that the weather was shifting and that could also be a partial cause to my earlier discomfort.

My hope is that I am in decent shape for Saturday's famer's market gig... I haven't been practicing because of the allergy problems I've been having, but I have continued playing at open mic.

This past week, I played I'm Alive by Jackson Browne. I will probably play that song again this week because my mom is going to be there and she is a big Jackson Browne fan.

Not a lot else to blog about right now. I have some pictures I've wanted to post. Let's consider them posted:

This is my Hard Rock Cafe guitar pin collection. There is a short story behind each pin. The best one is probably the September 11th USA flag pin. I bought it in Boston when I visited my brother shortly after September 11th occurred.

The whole wall. Lots of pics from concerts. Love it!

Here I am at Hard Rock in NYC. Bob Dylan's guitar there.

Sunflowers. They are dying and looking much less sunny. I tried to take an artistic looking picture of them and failed...

A couple of photoshopped pictures to use as my desktop/screensaver at work. HAHA!

Random

2009-08-25T09:33:00.001-04:00

On break at work. Cleaning out the camera part of my phone. While in New York City a week and a half ago, i took a quick picture of Mickey Mouse. After snapping the pic, I walked around the corner and
was surprised to see... Another Mickey Mouse!! Shouldn't they have gotten together and picked different corners??

Random

What I Did in New York City.

2009-08-14T20:32:00.001-04:00

Sitting in Grand Central Station. Train leaves in 15 mins. It seems to early to be heading home. My legs, dead tired from all the walking, are making the decision for me. I had a good time shopping in
the city. Bought a sweet, hip sweater and a sexy pea coat. I'll be a slammin' hottie this winter for sure. Saw an interesting ad on a bus: 'Learn English Today. Call 1-800-ENGLISH' and there was a
picture of an Asain girl smiling... I had lunch at the Hard Rock Cafe -- of course -- and bought two guitar pins for my awesome collection. I should take a picture of the collection and post it...
There was also a picture taken of me at the Hard Rock Cafe standing near one of Bob Dylan's old guitars. I'll post that soon enough. For now, a self-taken photo in front of a neon sign:

What I Did in New York City.

Anyone Analyze Dreams?

2009-08-09T10:00:00.002-04:00

I had a very late night last night and a very strange dream some time after going to sleep. If anyone has any skill (or not) at analyzing dreams, please take a shot at this one:

In the dream, I had just gotten a new job in a busy office area. I have no idea what the job was, but I met many people who worked there (some were people that I actually know). On my first day, I met one young woman who worked there. Her name was Regina Spektor. I kept trying to talk to her and she didn't seem to want to talk to me. At the end of the work day, we walked out of the office together and stopped at her van. She needed a plastic bag to put some stuff in and, so, I went to find one. I returned later (not sure where I had gone) bruised and bloody with torn clothes. Regina hugged me tightly for a moment and pulled away. I wouldn't let go of her. She gave me a weird look and broke away, got in her van. As she started the van and pulled away, I told her that she had a nice body. Later that night, my dad invited me to go to a birthday party for his co-worker's eighteen year old daughter. The party was at High Rollers (an actual roller skating rink in Amsterdam, NY where I have attended many parties when I was in elementary school). I went to the party and, awkwardly, was introduced to the co-worker's daughter who turned out to be Regina Spektor. She was wearing pink and black roller skates, with pink and black stockings, and a black dress. I watched her skate. Then, I woke up.

Other than having an unrequited crush on Regina Spektor and a desire to watch people in dresses roller skate, why would I dream this? What does it mean? Help!!

On the Fence

2009-08-08T15:43:00.004-04:00

I'll be heading out in a little bit to attend a friend's end of summer BBQ. Haven't seen the friend in a while. Glad to be invited.

A little bit ago, I mowed the lawn. As I was just getting started, I noticed my neighbor with a camera in his backyard. Then I noticed a while string that ran the length of his property. He started moving his mouth (The lawn mower was loud and I had headphones in, mp3 player blasting). I shut off the lawn mower and took out my headphones. He explained that he was considering putting a fence up, which would segregate our backyards. His purpose for the fence was not to separate us (or make him more like Wilson from Home Improvement). Rather, he is getting old and has cancer and is attempting to make his yard care easier.

You see, I have three GINORMOUS (to borrow a hip-high-school-age-kid's word) pine trees in my backyard and they shed pine needles like mad in the fall. My neighbor always cleans them up out of his backyard in the spring so that his grass will grow. He hopes that a fence will prevent a good portion of the needles from escaping into his yard. (I don't think a fence will work. The trees are ginormous, as I said, and the fence isn't going to be tall enough... unless it's a 200 foot fence).

I talked with my neighbor for a while about the fence and he isn't exactly sure he will put one up. Later, I decided that he is on the fence about putting up a fence and I laughed at myself. Then I stopped laughing and finished mowing the lawn.

While mowing the lawn, and listening to the MP3's on my cell phone, I realized something: I have a really great taste in music. Each song that played (randomly) was excellent.

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At Lena's this past Thursday, I played Rainy Day and Walls by Tom Petty. Jeffrey T (songwriter) filmed me and put Rainy Day up on YouTube. Here it is:

Here is the video he took the week before:

Pleasant Surprises

2009-07-27T12:45:00.004-04:00

Life is actually full of pleasant surprises. They await in hiding for the right time to jump out at you and make your feelings of unpleasantness disappear. Sometimes, the result is a moment. Moments are more than just moments (note the lack of italics). Moments are little pieces of happenings that occur in your life that you keep with you forever. If you carried around a little jar, you could put moments in it and then them out whenever you wanted to and relive it.

What makes a moment different from a moment (besides the italics) is that moments happen when you least expect them to.

This past Friday, I went to see Jackson Browne with my dad -- who is a big Jackson Browne fan. I remember hearing most of the songs he played Friday when I was younger. The concert was really quite great and I had a great time. I ran into a friend from a while back, who -- randomly -- was sitting two seats down from me. It was a pleasant surprise.

I took a bunch of pictures:

Another pleasant surprise that popped up, happened yesterday. I decided -- randomly -- to go to Saratoga. I had no plan. Just figured I'd walk around, have lunch somewhere, check out the book store, and maybe play guitar in the park.

It started out as a dreary day and it sprinkled at times. When the rain became steady, I bolted for the book store. I went straight to the Sci-Fi/Fantasy section -- as I always do. The surprise was one of the first books I noticed. Warbreaker by Brandon Sanderson was sitting on the top shelf. It was a surprise for a couple of reasons: 1) I didn't know Brandon Sanderson had another novel in the works (I did know that he was writing the final Wheel of Time novel after the original author died) and 2) I wasn't expecting to find a book that screamed "OH MY GOD! READ ME!!" because I haven't found a book that screamed like that in quite a while. Actually, the last time a book screamed at me, it was Hero of Ages, which -- coincidentally -- is by Brandon Sanderson.

I bought the book with a gift card I still have left over from my birthday/Christmas. And found that there is still some money on it.

I had lunch at Uncommon Grounds and read a couple chapters. Then, I started to get annoyed by all of the loud voices in Uncommon Grounds. At first, it all jumbled together to provide decent background noises while I read; however -- after a while -- some voices began to rise above the others and I found myself hearing conversations rather than listening to that quiet, somber voice in inside my head reading to me.

So, I left Uncommon Grounds and found that the dreariness had turned into a beautiful blue sky/white clouds/light breeze. I grabbed a blanket out of my car and headed to Congress park, where I found a shady spot on a hill and read for about three hours.

It was awesome. And the book, so far, is pretty awesome.

Today is looking quite lovely (after a brief shower). I may click "publish post" and head outside for some more reading. It's Monday. But, I took today off from work to do nothing.

Panera Bowls

2009-07-18T19:38:00.001-04:00

I'm blogging from my phone. Yes. I got it fixed with Sprint thanks to a customer service person who could actually provide me with service. I'm at crossgates. Waiting for Harry Potter to start. We ate
dinner at Panera Bread, except for there wasn't any bread. Again. I often order soup in a bread bowl. Broccoli chedder soup. I love bread and I totally love cheese, which makes broccoli chedder soup
in a bread bowl a tasty dinner. However, the last four trips to Panera have ended with me being grumbley because they ';are out of bread bowls.'; As far as I'm concerned, Panera is 0 for 4 and might as
well change their sign to Panera Bowls.

Panera Bowls

Harry

2009-07-18T15:13:00.003-04:00

It's been a very crazy week for me at work. With short deadlines and crises rising every minute, I was quite stressed by the time it got to be Thursday night (Open Mic Night!). Typically, I look forward to Thursdays rather than Fridays. There is nothing more refreshing that a relaxing night at Caffe Lena's Open mic. Which makes Fridays a breeze and then it's the weekend.

This past Thursday, however, was incredibly hectic at open mic. We had 28 performers on the list, which meant we had to cut down to a one-song night -- which sucks for multiple reasons: 1) the musician only gets to play one song. 2) the host has to run back up the stage every four or five minutes and doesn't get to sit down long enough to relax. And 3) more people on the list, means more people at Caffe, which makes the place quite crowded.

I hosted. And I felt like I was running around like a crazy person the whole night. The crowded-ness didn't help either. I get a little anxious in crowded areas.

To make matters even more stressful, my mom came to caffe with some of her friends, and I wanted to play my best for her. It had been a while since she last heard me play live and I have come a long way since then. And when you are stressed at open mic and you only get one song, it's tough to calm yourself down and play your best.

Even so, I succeeded and performed quite well. I decided to play Sink or Swim because it takes place on a beach board walk with rides and games, that was partially inspired by Seaside Heights in New Jersey, which is where my mom used to take me quite a lot when I was little. At the end of the night, I decided to play Passenger to close out the night.

Overall, I survived the hectic-ness, but it didn't chill me out for work on Friday, which became increasingly hectic as the day went on.

After work, however, I had blast playing Rock Band at my friend Justin's place. It turned into a party after the upstairs people (also friends) came down and a girlfriend came with a few friends and multiple other began showing up. I met lots of new people whose names I will most likely forget. But, that shouldn't be a problem. Most of them were drunk and will probably forget even meeting me. Still, I found out that Rock Band can actually be quite fun with drunk people. Especially, when the singers are the drunk ones and they act like they are really rock stars. It makes playing the guitar or drums more fun when you have a crazy lead singer. It was also cool to see the non-participants sing along and/or dance during songs they liked. I think we played from about seven o'clock until well after one in the morning. We switched instruments often and had lots of different singers. It was fun.

Of course, I didn't get home and in bed until about three o'clock, which means I slept in and didn't get out of bed in until after noon -- which means Saturday is already half over and the weekend is short enough as is. Especially when you have had a hectic stressful week to begin with.

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And I'm going to see Harry Potter tonight. Sadly, I will not be dressing up because I do not have wizard's robe. I do have a Griffyndor tie and a scarf... and when I wear those I look like Harry Potter's older brother...