I will not begin with an empty blogger apology. I've been thinking and I've been not, so in the middle there hasn't been any writing here. I did jot down an actual journal entry, in an actual journal, one that used to belong, but not see actual use by my Grandmother. I have been to parks that I had never before been to.
Franklin Canyon Park is Stunning. It is hidden up above Beverly Hills, I am smitten with it. I want to go more often to sit by the pond and eat she she grocery food. I have been to the Park at Greystone Mansion, and reflected about wealth by a fountain.
Shitting Glitter played show number 100 in a room that sounds terrible. We played a new song and Amy swears no one clapped at all, she is always wrong when she speaks in absolutes, but some parts of it is right, maybe people clapped...Less... But I would notice if no one clapped at all.
It's been getting colder here, and people swear we have no winter. People from L.A. who swear we don't have winter don't realize that homes and cars a climate controlled. These people don't walk, the people don't wait for busses or rides.
I have a lot of ideas, and other people have been having my ideas also. I have been dealing with one stupid thing that I am tired of dealing with. I want to get a tattoo of a line in the sand. I would more than appreciate someone drawing a suitable symbol for a line in the sand. It must clearly resemble sand... Otherwise it may confuse it's purpose.
I've been feeling rather silly about being a big pig of an American. I deny my person very little. It's disgusting to me.
I have been proud of myself. I have been reading and thinking. I have been working on creation. We are almost done with our album and I can't imagine how the release of this energy is going to effect me and those I love.
I am grinding the organ.
Amy and I met a stranger, who as we got to know him became even more so. Animals need healed but people find themselves neglected. I am overcome with how I feel about what I'm feeling.
I have reveled, yet not danced as much as I would like.
I am grinding the organ.
My brother has taken on a second job, his labor of love is impressing me, making me nervous and leaving me feeling a bit wanting for my own impression of myself. I have done well to have him for direction and check.
All these things are going at once, and I'm happy about them all. Let us not make any mistakes about who has what lives to live, and about this talk I've indulged of destiny. There are any number of ways to regret a life, but they are out numbered and cornered by the beauty and stark immensity of the multiplied options in which we all have to live one.
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Some Words on Words and Reading
I have been reading a bit more these days and greatly enjoying it. I finished not but a few weeks past "Middle Sex" enjoyed it a great deal. Then I stumbled for a few days with nothing until I came smack into the strange notion, inspired by Amy, of reading "The Wind in The Willows", my mind was blown out hard by this book. Never read it as a child, but it seems to be part of our collective children's stories, for I knew many aspects of it and seemed even to recall some of the art work.
I enjoyed my read for words alone, and the way they flow, but more attractive to my emotional self was the depiction of winter in all it's glory, yet further than the depiction of winter was the presence of cozy on the inside, surrounded by winter on the out, this stirs in me such a strong affirmative feeling that I associate with my child hood, further more with particular memories of our farm house, and looking out the windows at the cold outside, and feeling the cold on the glass and the warmth around me. I enjoyed feeling my self through the thought trains of the characters enveloped in warmth in small spaces, having just been a bit uncomfortable, only to find food and warmth to be a panacea within reach. I enjoyed the book so much that I started to read it again from the top upon finishing it, and got maybe half way through it before being struck by a whim on my way to the door where perched by the book case to see if any gems could appear which had not appeared before.
"A Separate Peace" jutted out at me in a way like it never had before. I've read the title when looking at the shelves many times, and even recall picking it up, but I cannot recall why I never chose to read it. Almost at once the character Finny had me eating from the palm of his hand. I enjoyed much about this fine story. I finished it the day after I plucked it from the shelf. I'm not one to go further into literary snobbery, so take this as a glowing review. If you want yet to to talk still of parables and meaning then join one of those priggish book clubs, if not I'll get to the crux of what is actually important to me about this exercise of reading.
I have been over it and over it, and I have certainly not arrived at my final thoughts on he subject by any means, nor would I like to have any final thoughts just yet, but I do think I'll share this with you. While on breaks from my readings of late I was thinking about reading for deeper meaning, and if maybe I should be trying harder at some of the more obscure symbolism and allegory of what I read, because there are at times thoughts in me that make me question if that is not where the reading being good for the soul idea comes from. In a word, No! I don't feel this to be the benefit of reading as part of ones life, I have another idea entirely on what I see to be of grave importance when it comes to reading. I'll take you now to the very root of where my idea did begin.
In "Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail '72" the recently relieved Doctor Hunter S. Thompson introduced me to a concept called "Rhythm Logic". In the book Hunter was covering a presidential campaign between George McGovern and Hunter's nemesis, Richard Milhouse Nixon. There came a point where Hunter was deep in strategy trying to figure out what Tricky Dick would do next, to do so Hunter employed what he called "Rhythm Logic". Hunter's theory was that in order to predict Dickies movements he had to be able to think like him, and in order to think like him he had to lock his mind into the rhythm of his thoughts, basically to be in his inner narration and dialogue. To do this with Nixon, Hunter employed drinking scotch and hatefully watching football, or something similar, truth be told it's been nearly 10 years since I've read it, but the point stood with me and was re-enforced by Hunter's own strong writing style. I would often find while deep in a HST reading jag that I would adopt the rhythm of his logic, and I would be in my own life relating to it through his thoughts, or my idea of what his thoughts may be.
I have carried this idea of rhythm logic around with me since reading "Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail '72" and as I have thought about it from time to time I have come to relate rhythm logic to what I feel to be a major aspect of the importance of reading as a part of life, more specifict than that would be reading novels (for non-fiction can at times become to staunhc of view). My thinking is this, people get to walking around pretty goddamn sure of themselves, and while there are times that this type of thinking can be effective and highly useful it can also narrow the point of view to a dangerous focus, and when view points narrow to far they tend to become much like the scope on top of a gun, and we all know what guns do. So my point is that frequent reading of novels allows a person to step outside of their own logic, and gives them the added benefit of relating to life through they eyes of a character in a book, thus adding depth and alternate points of views, and through doing so, maybe even helping people to not be so goddamn pig headed about things, and this could help us all to get a long with each other and ourselves and our world a little better. So please for my sake and your own lets all read a little more. k?
Today I started reading The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, watch out for my strange way of thinking in the coming days.
I enjoyed my read for words alone, and the way they flow, but more attractive to my emotional self was the depiction of winter in all it's glory, yet further than the depiction of winter was the presence of cozy on the inside, surrounded by winter on the out, this stirs in me such a strong affirmative feeling that I associate with my child hood, further more with particular memories of our farm house, and looking out the windows at the cold outside, and feeling the cold on the glass and the warmth around me. I enjoyed feeling my self through the thought trains of the characters enveloped in warmth in small spaces, having just been a bit uncomfortable, only to find food and warmth to be a panacea within reach. I enjoyed the book so much that I started to read it again from the top upon finishing it, and got maybe half way through it before being struck by a whim on my way to the door where perched by the book case to see if any gems could appear which had not appeared before.
"A Separate Peace" jutted out at me in a way like it never had before. I've read the title when looking at the shelves many times, and even recall picking it up, but I cannot recall why I never chose to read it. Almost at once the character Finny had me eating from the palm of his hand. I enjoyed much about this fine story. I finished it the day after I plucked it from the shelf. I'm not one to go further into literary snobbery, so take this as a glowing review. If you want yet to to talk still of parables and meaning then join one of those priggish book clubs, if not I'll get to the crux of what is actually important to me about this exercise of reading.
I have been over it and over it, and I have certainly not arrived at my final thoughts on he subject by any means, nor would I like to have any final thoughts just yet, but I do think I'll share this with you. While on breaks from my readings of late I was thinking about reading for deeper meaning, and if maybe I should be trying harder at some of the more obscure symbolism and allegory of what I read, because there are at times thoughts in me that make me question if that is not where the reading being good for the soul idea comes from. In a word, No! I don't feel this to be the benefit of reading as part of ones life, I have another idea entirely on what I see to be of grave importance when it comes to reading. I'll take you now to the very root of where my idea did begin.
In "Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail '72" the recently relieved Doctor Hunter S. Thompson introduced me to a concept called "Rhythm Logic". In the book Hunter was covering a presidential campaign between George McGovern and Hunter's nemesis, Richard Milhouse Nixon. There came a point where Hunter was deep in strategy trying to figure out what Tricky Dick would do next, to do so Hunter employed what he called "Rhythm Logic". Hunter's theory was that in order to predict Dickies movements he had to be able to think like him, and in order to think like him he had to lock his mind into the rhythm of his thoughts, basically to be in his inner narration and dialogue. To do this with Nixon, Hunter employed drinking scotch and hatefully watching football, or something similar, truth be told it's been nearly 10 years since I've read it, but the point stood with me and was re-enforced by Hunter's own strong writing style. I would often find while deep in a HST reading jag that I would adopt the rhythm of his logic, and I would be in my own life relating to it through his thoughts, or my idea of what his thoughts may be.
I have carried this idea of rhythm logic around with me since reading "Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail '72" and as I have thought about it from time to time I have come to relate rhythm logic to what I feel to be a major aspect of the importance of reading as a part of life, more specifict than that would be reading novels (for non-fiction can at times become to staunhc of view). My thinking is this, people get to walking around pretty goddamn sure of themselves, and while there are times that this type of thinking can be effective and highly useful it can also narrow the point of view to a dangerous focus, and when view points narrow to far they tend to become much like the scope on top of a gun, and we all know what guns do. So my point is that frequent reading of novels allows a person to step outside of their own logic, and gives them the added benefit of relating to life through they eyes of a character in a book, thus adding depth and alternate points of views, and through doing so, maybe even helping people to not be so goddamn pig headed about things, and this could help us all to get a long with each other and ourselves and our world a little better. So please for my sake and your own lets all read a little more. k?
Today I started reading The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, watch out for my strange way of thinking in the coming days.
Friday, November 11, 2005
Painted up your Spatula?
After A fine Friday night spent with James and Ginny, doing things not proper to speak of in polite society such as this, I awoke along with Amy and began preparing to leave town. Head once again down to San Diego from Los Angeles to play at a night club called recognize, on a night dedicated to a land of Spatulas. Odd?
First we ran a few errands, stopping first at what used to be Manny's music for cables, strings and picks, then on to Famima for road snacks.
As a fast side bar, I am obsessed with Famima in West Hollywood. It is this very well put together shop that crosses all lines between quick stop, upscale grocery store, deli and coffee shop. Apparently of Japanese Descent. They have delicious grilled sandwiches, which the mere mention of them here have cause me to salivate. They have all manner of chipy things and what nots, thingamajigs, widgets, journals, sushis, cheesys, crunchies, munchies and yummys. I'm in love. End side bar.
We took two vehicles this time, Devin and Coco in one, and Amy and I in the other. Traffic, much better than a pride weekend was not an issue at all.
It should be mentioned that this day of our travel and this day of our show happened to fall upon Amy's day of birth. Amy being the kind take charge birthday person that she is was kind enough to book the all of us into a Hotel for the evening. We arrived at the hotel, the Sommerset Suites, just a bit over two hours after leaving LA. The room itself was fabulous, a one bedroom suite with a nice kitchen and large balcony, a fold out couch and two double beds, beds which wouldn't see much use in the end. We relaxed a bit in the room, had beer at the social hour and even took a dip in the pool prior to leaving for the club.
After primping and preening we made our short way to the venue. We were allowed relative peace while setting up, and even some semblance of a line check.
Soon Lance, or Spatulance, the promoter for the evening made his way through the door. He was a kind fellow and soon his club begin to fill with people. Being such a kind fellow he happens to import absinthe for his clubs, and I watched in glee as he poured a drink for me through the sugar thingy that I am so fond of. I enjoyed my drink and waited to play.
We began the night with Static Cling, the crowd was rather stand offish in a hipster sort of way, but we just turned it out. We followed Static Cling with Guerilla, and still the crowd maintained their distance. Amy then decided to tell the crowd that it happened to be her birthday, and soon we learned of two or three other birthdays in the house. It was then decided that we'd play our signature birthday song, a cover of Altered Images "Happy Birthday". This finally brought the crowd into control and underneath Amy's spell.
The remainder of the gig went well, with a strong finish of several more tunes. Folks purchased cds and we began to switch into the mode of being at a club instead of playing at a club.
The night ended a long while later, after Amy and I had found ourselves at an after hours party some 20 minutes away. We made two great new friends in a girl named Celina and the promoter himself Lance. We got back to the hotel in the early mid morning and enjoyed our balcony for a bit before catching a couple of winks prior to check out. I could say more, but this is polite society.
First we ran a few errands, stopping first at what used to be Manny's music for cables, strings and picks, then on to Famima for road snacks.
As a fast side bar, I am obsessed with Famima in West Hollywood. It is this very well put together shop that crosses all lines between quick stop, upscale grocery store, deli and coffee shop. Apparently of Japanese Descent. They have delicious grilled sandwiches, which the mere mention of them here have cause me to salivate. They have all manner of chipy things and what nots, thingamajigs, widgets, journals, sushis, cheesys, crunchies, munchies and yummys. I'm in love. End side bar.
We took two vehicles this time, Devin and Coco in one, and Amy and I in the other. Traffic, much better than a pride weekend was not an issue at all.
It should be mentioned that this day of our travel and this day of our show happened to fall upon Amy's day of birth. Amy being the kind take charge birthday person that she is was kind enough to book the all of us into a Hotel for the evening. We arrived at the hotel, the Sommerset Suites, just a bit over two hours after leaving LA. The room itself was fabulous, a one bedroom suite with a nice kitchen and large balcony, a fold out couch and two double beds, beds which wouldn't see much use in the end. We relaxed a bit in the room, had beer at the social hour and even took a dip in the pool prior to leaving for the club.
After primping and preening we made our short way to the venue. We were allowed relative peace while setting up, and even some semblance of a line check.
Soon Lance, or Spatulance, the promoter for the evening made his way through the door. He was a kind fellow and soon his club begin to fill with people. Being such a kind fellow he happens to import absinthe for his clubs, and I watched in glee as he poured a drink for me through the sugar thingy that I am so fond of. I enjoyed my drink and waited to play.
We began the night with Static Cling, the crowd was rather stand offish in a hipster sort of way, but we just turned it out. We followed Static Cling with Guerilla, and still the crowd maintained their distance. Amy then decided to tell the crowd that it happened to be her birthday, and soon we learned of two or three other birthdays in the house. It was then decided that we'd play our signature birthday song, a cover of Altered Images "Happy Birthday". This finally brought the crowd into control and underneath Amy's spell.
The remainder of the gig went well, with a strong finish of several more tunes. Folks purchased cds and we began to switch into the mode of being at a club instead of playing at a club.
The night ended a long while later, after Amy and I had found ourselves at an after hours party some 20 minutes away. We made two great new friends in a girl named Celina and the promoter himself Lance. We got back to the hotel in the early mid morning and enjoyed our balcony for a bit before catching a couple of winks prior to check out. I could say more, but this is polite society.
Thursday, November 10, 2005
A Note about the Vote
For historical purpose I have to make a fast note. I looked over my blog from this time last year and I found there was a large gap that came from depression over the election. This Tuesday I voted in the ridiculous special election that the guy from the first Predator movie forced us to waste money on. Special elections normally do not get the left voters out, but this year we all went, everyone I talked to, and we handed that guy from the movie where he is a robot an ass kicking to rival the one he received in the second movie about him being a robot, and ass kicking delivered by Ed Furlong, and that woman who's name I forget. I always had a crush on Ed.
More Lovely Grey
It's nice to sit here this morning with my coffee and they rain intermittent, thinking lightly and catching up on blogging and emails; details. This afternoon I intend to square away some work I have been successfully putting off. I feel better, I have slept more this week than usual, it's treated me well. I have a great many things I'm thinking about, which is always nice. There are deals on the table, an album nearly finished. New songs fluttering higher than ever before. We worked last night on solid basic tracks for "The Apple Falls" demo, also made a quick sketch of the music that will become "The Collection", both of these songs amaze me, It's hard to have not yet even released Free Alongside Ship and already we have these great new songs coming. I always get a little scared with songs and bands. Though we are band is solid I know that all partnerships are precious and they can end without warning, I have a HUGE Phobia of bands breaking up leaving no record of some songs. When Plaything, my second band, broke up, we had several songs we had no recordings of, one called "Peel" and one called "Wrapped around your middle finger" They were both not all that great, but I regret to this day not having any recordings of either, with particular regret for "Peel". I didn't think that band would break up, in the end I'm glad it did, but it took a few years to get there. If I had recordings of those songs, like I do the others from that band, I might wish I didn't, so possibly they are more precious in memory, but I don't like not having the choice.
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Traipsing About, Day Three Runs Into Four then Five
It has now been a while since our return, and I think some details have slipped a bit in my mind. I'll attempted to pick this up after Amy and I had a nice big sleep Friday morning, awaking around 2 p.m., from there we went and had some sort f snacky type lunch, before of heading out to a Martini bar in downtown Honolulu that our HOT bartender at Hula's had told us about the night before. We grabbed a bus after we ate only to find out that we had grabbed the wrong bus, the driver quickly corrected us and we were on our way.
The place we ended up at was a rather popular local haunt, we had some very cheap strong drinks that were to die for, I believe they were made from the lichi fruit, but I can't even come near spelling it. Our hot bartender was not in attendance so we enjoyed a few drinks and then started back toward Waikiki.
Enroute to our room while waiting for our return bus a magician approached us and bedazzled us with several amazing tricks. We got the strange sense that offering to tip would be some kind of an insult, so we allowed the performance to go on without getting in to such embarrassing items as hand outs.
Back in the room we took a breather on the balcony, listened to a band somewhere far off playing random Beatles songs, and prepared ourselves for our night on the town. We started off by walking and chatting, winding our way down the beach toward north shore. Finally picking ourselves up from a top a picnic table and walking into Hula's. We found our hot bartender, who apologized at length for not making to the martini bar, then in turn told us about an afterhours bar in waikiki, just next to Angles.
While at hula's we ran into a friend from our first nights karaoke, who introduced us to a great number of his friends, we all decided that we should go enjoy this after hours bar, Amy and I stopping by the hotel room to freshen up first.
Once inside the club, the name of which I have forgotten, Amy disappeared looking for local color, and I chatted up a Midwestern fellow. I finally realized Amy was no where to be seen and excused myself from the action in order to seek her out, it was then I discovered that the bar had an upstairs, where Amy already had a whole group of new friends, one of the them a smart young lad named Steve.
Steve soon became our island guide. The bar we were at closed at 4, we waited with our new guide in an alley for his boyfriend to get off work. His sweet boyfriend was named Piku. Once Piku was released from his bar job we drove over to yet another after hours club, this one open till 6. At the end of this club we invited Steve, Piku and their friend Poma back to the hyatt for a hotel room bash that did not end until 10:00 in the morning.
at the end of our time Steve was tired, we were beat and had a guitar to return, they kindly drove us to the music store to complete our task, and were even kind enough to taxi us back to our room where we grabbed towels to go sleep by the pool.
We slept several good hours before hella rain woke us and forced us back to our room. Once in our room we slept and did not wake up until it was time for dinner. We enjoyed dinner at the cheesecake factory and then defaulted on the multiple plans we had made the night before by being far to tired to go out, this coupled with our 9 am charter to the airport pretty well ended our fun in Hawaii.
Day 5 was sad, vacation was over and we were going back to our real lives. Being so much fun and having new friends made it all that much harder to leave.
In the airport bar we met a nice older surfer from San Diego, we talked of thing Hawaiian and told him of our good fortune in winning our trip. After our hair of the dog was ingested we boarded the plan, I was surprised to see our surfer friend a few rows in front of us. The flight was longer this time, there was an emergency of sorts so food and the inflight movie was delayed. After a very long time we finally touched down, during taxi to the terminal the surfer turned around, saying with glee: "These people won their trip too!" turns out they had won a trip from the same radio station we had, a trip a day in may, and were also just returning.
Life is too fucking weird.
The place we ended up at was a rather popular local haunt, we had some very cheap strong drinks that were to die for, I believe they were made from the lichi fruit, but I can't even come near spelling it. Our hot bartender was not in attendance so we enjoyed a few drinks and then started back toward Waikiki.
Enroute to our room while waiting for our return bus a magician approached us and bedazzled us with several amazing tricks. We got the strange sense that offering to tip would be some kind of an insult, so we allowed the performance to go on without getting in to such embarrassing items as hand outs.
Back in the room we took a breather on the balcony, listened to a band somewhere far off playing random Beatles songs, and prepared ourselves for our night on the town. We started off by walking and chatting, winding our way down the beach toward north shore. Finally picking ourselves up from a top a picnic table and walking into Hula's. We found our hot bartender, who apologized at length for not making to the martini bar, then in turn told us about an afterhours bar in waikiki, just next to Angles.
While at hula's we ran into a friend from our first nights karaoke, who introduced us to a great number of his friends, we all decided that we should go enjoy this after hours bar, Amy and I stopping by the hotel room to freshen up first.
Once inside the club, the name of which I have forgotten, Amy disappeared looking for local color, and I chatted up a Midwestern fellow. I finally realized Amy was no where to be seen and excused myself from the action in order to seek her out, it was then I discovered that the bar had an upstairs, where Amy already had a whole group of new friends, one of the them a smart young lad named Steve.
Steve soon became our island guide. The bar we were at closed at 4, we waited with our new guide in an alley for his boyfriend to get off work. His sweet boyfriend was named Piku. Once Piku was released from his bar job we drove over to yet another after hours club, this one open till 6. At the end of this club we invited Steve, Piku and their friend Poma back to the hyatt for a hotel room bash that did not end until 10:00 in the morning.
at the end of our time Steve was tired, we were beat and had a guitar to return, they kindly drove us to the music store to complete our task, and were even kind enough to taxi us back to our room where we grabbed towels to go sleep by the pool.
We slept several good hours before hella rain woke us and forced us back to our room. Once in our room we slept and did not wake up until it was time for dinner. We enjoyed dinner at the cheesecake factory and then defaulted on the multiple plans we had made the night before by being far to tired to go out, this coupled with our 9 am charter to the airport pretty well ended our fun in Hawaii.
Day 5 was sad, vacation was over and we were going back to our real lives. Being so much fun and having new friends made it all that much harder to leave.
In the airport bar we met a nice older surfer from San Diego, we talked of thing Hawaiian and told him of our good fortune in winning our trip. After our hair of the dog was ingested we boarded the plan, I was surprised to see our surfer friend a few rows in front of us. The flight was longer this time, there was an emergency of sorts so food and the inflight movie was delayed. After a very long time we finally touched down, during taxi to the terminal the surfer turned around, saying with glee: "These people won their trip too!" turns out they had won a trip from the same radio station we had, a trip a day in may, and were also just returning.
Life is too fucking weird.
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