Thursday morning we awoke early, something like 7:00 am. A big surprise came from not being hung over, I took this as an omen and looked in the hotel guide for rental car services. Luck would have two of them inside of our hotel itself. We packed a bag full of day provisions and rented a car, our only requirement being that it had a CD player.
We ended up in something small and silver. Not fun to drive but cheap and we were able to listen to the recently finished rough mix of our album, Free Alongside Ship. From the hotel we drove to a music store which I had been in contact with about renting an acoustic guitar. I essentially told them I was just looking for something to play on the island, that it need not be very nice or full of features, they told me this was good because they had a lot of not very nice guitars. I ended up with one that sounded very nice when open strings were plucked, but of course I found out later the intonation was totally fucked, thus rendering chords above the fifth fret totally useless. Getting what I paid for we drove north on H1, on our way to the north shore.
The silver cars CD player opened it's mouth and accepted our album, the first notes of Ladyslipper rang out making me feel giddy and accomplished. The lush land made me feel lucky. Crossing the island took far less than we thought, we ended up at the far north shore by about 11:00, eating half a shrimp and crab sandwich while drinking beer by the ocean.
From there we drove to the northern most point where the rental car could go, any further and we would have had to drive on dirt, thus violating the terms of our rental agreement. Flipping One Hundred and Eighty degrees we headed south down along the coast, admiring our accomplishment and the turquoise water. We followed the coast for several hours, looking for things on our map that did not exist, and marveling at things that existed that were not on our map.
At some point we hit the H3 and cut back through the island toward Waikiki. We returned the rental car, purchased beer and went back to the room to change into some beach clothes. From there we found our way to the Mai Tai bar on the beach inside the Royal Hawaiian.
The Royal Hawaiian is in my opinion a must visit for a drink while in Waikiki, and if your at all fruity, have a pink palace, they are just so.
After plying ourselves w/ drinks and what not we decided it was time for a swim.
Having been for our swim we decided to shower and head out for some more drinking and what not. We hit angles first and then headed to Hulas, the most popular gay club on the island. My bartender at Hulas was a kind fellow named Chad, I passed him a Shitting Glitter sampler, he told me the DJ would be in later and he'd give it to him.
Finally the Dj arrived, at first acting a little look warm, until he apparently played the CD, then he came over and asked us which track we wanted him to play. We had him play Mondo Di Corpo. It was rather amazing watching people dance and enjoy our song. I even heard one person sing along to the chorus on the second time around.
We ended our second evening with a little night swimming, then going back to our hotel to drink beer on the balcony and fall asleep as the sun was coming up.
Friday, October 28, 2005
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Safe to Deposit Box
Dear Friends,
I find myself wanting to write down all the things you've done. I want to copy paste your entire life into multiple formats in the case of fires and floods. I know this is not possible or logical but I'm amazed and feeling alive with all of you, I see other people who don't feel their lives like this, and I don't want to find myself within their ranks.
Are all these memories only possible because we are willing to pay for them with forgetting?
I know that a precious item held close to the heart is a joy to have, but I must keep in mind that if my arms are full of too many precious items I will never have free hands with which to pick new ones up.
I rely on this blog as a means of recording things that are important to me, they don't all fit here, and the most inspiring items can not be expressed in word form. Our minds are big. Friends, lets all remember to listen to each other and to talk to one another, you never know when your going to need know something your friends have already learned.
Thanks,
Buckie
I find myself wanting to write down all the things you've done. I want to copy paste your entire life into multiple formats in the case of fires and floods. I know this is not possible or logical but I'm amazed and feeling alive with all of you, I see other people who don't feel their lives like this, and I don't want to find myself within their ranks.
Are all these memories only possible because we are willing to pay for them with forgetting?
I know that a precious item held close to the heart is a joy to have, but I must keep in mind that if my arms are full of too many precious items I will never have free hands with which to pick new ones up.
I rely on this blog as a means of recording things that are important to me, they don't all fit here, and the most inspiring items can not be expressed in word form. Our minds are big. Friends, lets all remember to listen to each other and to talk to one another, you never know when your going to need know something your friends have already learned.
Thanks,
Buckie
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Traipsing About, Day One (The Long Way)
Cell phone alarm ensemble strikes hard at 5:15 on Wednesday morning. Springing out of bed is not an option, but movement is excited non-the-less. Memories of the evening spent before sharpen. I recall dashing about town in a last ditch to gather the supplies, to garner bits of glamour and necessaries. Hitting the special store on vine, getting belts and rings and all nature of pretty things. Then Saveon for the necessary. Amy does most of the packing, as I am not very talented at that sort of thing. I tend to throw a lot of combinations at the problem and hope for the best.
Back to my day in progress. Checking the bags. Loving the cats. Waiting for cab.
Our cab was a problem. Arrived on time, very Russian, aren't they all in Los Angeles?
There is a law in the city of west Hollywood, that if a cab is licensed to operate in the city of west Hollywood then that cab must honor a $25 dollar flat fee from any Weho address to LAX. I ask the cabbie if he will give us the flat fee, he informs us he won't. I ask if he is licensed to operate here and he says yes, but gas prices have changed and he must make a living. I could give a fuck. We are all yelling. We call his cab company and they tell us to tell him it's the law and he must. He will not! The company over our cell phones tell us to tell him CODE RED. That's right fuck face! CODE RED! No avail. He just says we will pay the meter or he will drop us off. He speeds to try and get as close to the 25 dollar rate as possible. What a jack ass. In then end we pay 35, which is what we intended to pay, $25 flat plus $10 tip. Instead he gets $31 meter and a shitty $4 dollar tip. I'm going to complain to any city official who will listen.
Check in was a breeze and the bar in the terminal opened at 6:30. Popping a valium and started to drink. The flight departed on time, Amy let me have the window.
I read from the book "Middle Sex", looked out the window, giggled with anticipation and watched "Bewitched", the in flight movie.
As the hours passed out the window in a blur of clouds and blue I finally spotted land. As welcome a sight it was for me from the air after a Five hour plane I can by no strength of imagination understand what it must have been like prior to flight to arrive somewhere by ship.
Landing 20 minutes early, we were given a cold soaking wet flower lei, and ushered eventually into a bus to our hotel.
As we were early we were not allowed yet to check into our hotel. This being a free trip won from a radio station, we were then treated to luxury that we don't understand. They actually took all our luggage, gave us a pager and told us they would page when our room was ready, we were then free to roam wherever we saw fit.
We found a local diner, directly underneath the first gay bar we could find. We ate some sort of fish salad and sandwich of some type. Beer with lunch lead us up the stairs to the above "alternative lifestyle bar". Angles is sort of the trunks of Waikiki as far as I could tell. We went up and enjoyed cheap draft beer and a little local color.
Leaving after a few we were en route to the next gay bar, which we found on a map in a fag rag, when we received the page about our rooms readiness to accept us. Happy we headed the block back to our hotel.
Walking into the room was a pay off. The furnishings beautiful, the clean feeling, and the unobstructed view of the ocean from the 23rd floor. We were going to be well taken care of and to people used to sharing a hotel room with a drag rock band this was something special. The comfort level of the bed was impressive, in such contrast to the bed at home that my neck and back pains all but went away during our stay, very nearly we had been given a start from fresh.
We readied and changed fro the beach. The sand soft and the water warm, not uckie and crowded as I had expected. Not cold like L.A. ocean.
Swimming and frolicking finished we dripped our way into an ABC store and purchased the first of a dozen or so six packs of Asian beer.
Drying on the balcony enjoying a beer we looked over the water, flipped through gay pages to decide where we would go for the evening. We found an ad for a Karaoke bar which serves tunes from 4pm till 2am, we decided this would be our activity for the early evening. The place was called "in between", and it was hidden in an alley where we almost didn't find it, when we did we were shocked at it's tiny size. At the five seat bar was a talkative old Texan and a quiet man of brown skin. Our bartender smiled more than he spoke, but he was good at finding the songs for the karoake, and quick to refill the cheap pitchers of beer. I don't know how long we ended up staying, or how much I ended up drinking. I recall singing "refugee", "Who can it be now", "The Letter", "Ordinary World", "Dancing With Myself" & "Forever in Blue Jeans". I know I sang at least 2 more songs but they are lost in the blur of the evening.
We ended the evening like dumb Americans, drunk and eating at Chili's. Amy cried a bit over something sad from the past. We found our way back to the hotel and passed out rather early.
Back to my day in progress. Checking the bags. Loving the cats. Waiting for cab.
Our cab was a problem. Arrived on time, very Russian, aren't they all in Los Angeles?
There is a law in the city of west Hollywood, that if a cab is licensed to operate in the city of west Hollywood then that cab must honor a $25 dollar flat fee from any Weho address to LAX. I ask the cabbie if he will give us the flat fee, he informs us he won't. I ask if he is licensed to operate here and he says yes, but gas prices have changed and he must make a living. I could give a fuck. We are all yelling. We call his cab company and they tell us to tell him it's the law and he must. He will not! The company over our cell phones tell us to tell him CODE RED. That's right fuck face! CODE RED! No avail. He just says we will pay the meter or he will drop us off. He speeds to try and get as close to the 25 dollar rate as possible. What a jack ass. In then end we pay 35, which is what we intended to pay, $25 flat plus $10 tip. Instead he gets $31 meter and a shitty $4 dollar tip. I'm going to complain to any city official who will listen.
Check in was a breeze and the bar in the terminal opened at 6:30. Popping a valium and started to drink. The flight departed on time, Amy let me have the window.
I read from the book "Middle Sex", looked out the window, giggled with anticipation and watched "Bewitched", the in flight movie.
As the hours passed out the window in a blur of clouds and blue I finally spotted land. As welcome a sight it was for me from the air after a Five hour plane I can by no strength of imagination understand what it must have been like prior to flight to arrive somewhere by ship.
Landing 20 minutes early, we were given a cold soaking wet flower lei, and ushered eventually into a bus to our hotel.
As we were early we were not allowed yet to check into our hotel. This being a free trip won from a radio station, we were then treated to luxury that we don't understand. They actually took all our luggage, gave us a pager and told us they would page when our room was ready, we were then free to roam wherever we saw fit.
We found a local diner, directly underneath the first gay bar we could find. We ate some sort of fish salad and sandwich of some type. Beer with lunch lead us up the stairs to the above "alternative lifestyle bar". Angles is sort of the trunks of Waikiki as far as I could tell. We went up and enjoyed cheap draft beer and a little local color.
Leaving after a few we were en route to the next gay bar, which we found on a map in a fag rag, when we received the page about our rooms readiness to accept us. Happy we headed the block back to our hotel.
Walking into the room was a pay off. The furnishings beautiful, the clean feeling, and the unobstructed view of the ocean from the 23rd floor. We were going to be well taken care of and to people used to sharing a hotel room with a drag rock band this was something special. The comfort level of the bed was impressive, in such contrast to the bed at home that my neck and back pains all but went away during our stay, very nearly we had been given a start from fresh.
We readied and changed fro the beach. The sand soft and the water warm, not uckie and crowded as I had expected. Not cold like L.A. ocean.
Swimming and frolicking finished we dripped our way into an ABC store and purchased the first of a dozen or so six packs of Asian beer.
Drying on the balcony enjoying a beer we looked over the water, flipped through gay pages to decide where we would go for the evening. We found an ad for a Karaoke bar which serves tunes from 4pm till 2am, we decided this would be our activity for the early evening. The place was called "in between", and it was hidden in an alley where we almost didn't find it, when we did we were shocked at it's tiny size. At the five seat bar was a talkative old Texan and a quiet man of brown skin. Our bartender smiled more than he spoke, but he was good at finding the songs for the karoake, and quick to refill the cheap pitchers of beer. I don't know how long we ended up staying, or how much I ended up drinking. I recall singing "refugee", "Who can it be now", "The Letter", "Ordinary World", "Dancing With Myself" & "Forever in Blue Jeans". I know I sang at least 2 more songs but they are lost in the blur of the evening.
We ended the evening like dumb Americans, drunk and eating at Chili's. Amy cried a bit over something sad from the past. We found our way back to the hotel and passed out rather early.
~in~
Okay, I owe me a blog about my trip to Hawaii, but it's just daunting and I've been very tired, and not feeling right. I've decided I'll take it one day at a time, except where the lines between days got blurry. I'll break it up into separate posts for each day. We left last Wednesday and returned Sunday, it was short but a lot of fun. Since our return we spent Monday working then cleaning and re-ordering life.
Tuesday was work time then Amy and I recorded a rough demo of a new Shitting Glitter tune called "Idiot Light", it's really good in my opinion. I'm enjoying the new SG tunes, strange to be working on new songs while the Free Alongside Ship album is still getting finishing touches.
Tuesday was work time then Amy and I recorded a rough demo of a new Shitting Glitter tune called "Idiot Light", it's really good in my opinion. I'm enjoying the new SG tunes, strange to be working on new songs while the Free Alongside Ship album is still getting finishing touches.
Monday, October 17, 2005
Pack My Bags, Oh Lord I'm A Travelin' Man, Man!
WOW! We leave Wednesday morning at 8:00 am for Hawaii. What Am I to do w/ myself? I have never before been an adult vacation, or on a vacation as an adult. I don't have any concept of this kind of free time. What does one do on vacation?
More Than Just Imagined
Saturday turned out even better than Buckie Expected. I was accompanied in my journey to Malibu by both Devin and Amy. The drive was nice, Amy slept and Devin bubbled with the excitement of his coming trip.
We sat down in the living room of Hoagie and Kim, with the dog Mingus there as well, and listened to the five songs we had not yet heard Hoagie's treatments of. Those songs were, dichotomy, The Amnesty Party, Slut Buffet, Grady and Lady Slipper.
The Amnesty Party blows me away, the tune is already an oddity to us because we've never played it live, nor have we even rehearsed it together. It remains virginal, furthering the purity is the recording being very spaced in time. I wrote the structure of the first part of the song one day while Amy and I still lived at Larrabee. I reverted back to my S no S methods, and used hammerhead drums, acoustic guitar and an actual bass guitar. The main sticking part for me was the guitar progression, it felt very right, I believe Amy wrote the words to it later, after I had reprogrammed the drums on the Korg ESX 1, after we had moved to Orange Grove. Devin for this part layered many beautiful keyboard parts on top. Most of the vocals were taken from the scratch track, and an amalgamation of the others, Hoagie here did brilliant work in patching together a puzzle.
Grady is another master work, I had a hard time visualizing how this song would work as a recorded piece, but it's power is apparent, and it's intention is realized.
dichotomy is coming along, I am rather happy because it contains more lead guitar than any other song on the album.
Slut Buffet is absolutely amazing! There is a totally new part in the end, making it almost twice as long as it was before, it's stunning and impressive.
I'm gushing.
Ladyslipper will be considerably different than the single version, but also true to the original meaning.
We listened to the songs we had not heard first, then we altered the states a bit and listened to the songs in an order none of us had ever heard them in before. This was the first time that Hoagie was able to listen to the songs in a purely "listening" sort of way. I am so proud of us, it's a feeling quite unlike any other, I can't wait for people to hear what we have created.
In the end Kim was kind enough to cook up a bit of nosh, and we even cracked open a bottle of Champaign, thus just reaffirming my feelings that we had just taken part in a ceremony of passage, and a furtherance of commitment.
We sat down in the living room of Hoagie and Kim, with the dog Mingus there as well, and listened to the five songs we had not yet heard Hoagie's treatments of. Those songs were, dichotomy, The Amnesty Party, Slut Buffet, Grady and Lady Slipper.
The Amnesty Party blows me away, the tune is already an oddity to us because we've never played it live, nor have we even rehearsed it together. It remains virginal, furthering the purity is the recording being very spaced in time. I wrote the structure of the first part of the song one day while Amy and I still lived at Larrabee. I reverted back to my S no S methods, and used hammerhead drums, acoustic guitar and an actual bass guitar. The main sticking part for me was the guitar progression, it felt very right, I believe Amy wrote the words to it later, after I had reprogrammed the drums on the Korg ESX 1, after we had moved to Orange Grove. Devin for this part layered many beautiful keyboard parts on top. Most of the vocals were taken from the scratch track, and an amalgamation of the others, Hoagie here did brilliant work in patching together a puzzle.
Grady is another master work, I had a hard time visualizing how this song would work as a recorded piece, but it's power is apparent, and it's intention is realized.
dichotomy is coming along, I am rather happy because it contains more lead guitar than any other song on the album.
Slut Buffet is absolutely amazing! There is a totally new part in the end, making it almost twice as long as it was before, it's stunning and impressive.
I'm gushing.
Ladyslipper will be considerably different than the single version, but also true to the original meaning.
We listened to the songs we had not heard first, then we altered the states a bit and listened to the songs in an order none of us had ever heard them in before. This was the first time that Hoagie was able to listen to the songs in a purely "listening" sort of way. I am so proud of us, it's a feeling quite unlike any other, I can't wait for people to hear what we have created.
In the end Kim was kind enough to cook up a bit of nosh, and we even cracked open a bottle of Champaign, thus just reaffirming my feelings that we had just taken part in a ceremony of passage, and a furtherance of commitment.
Friday, October 14, 2005
Working
I'm working on a larger blog today, it won't come round just yet, but it's in the works and it will be very difficult to pay any attention to.
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Fidgets Part 2
Timing is an odd variable. The alignment and order of events in a personal history can be more important than many of the individual events themselves. As timing would have it once again an oddity of life is occurring for me and my band on this adventure we are all on. Saturday, if all goes according to plan I get to go hear our record at approximately 85% completion, and while that 15% is the most important percentage of the whole, the average listener can hardly hear that part at all. So Saturday we have a ceremony planned, where I will go to Seamonster sounds and sit in the living room with Hoagie, and listen to all the songs and make notes about the sonic qualities. Hoagie has been in the studio fullfilling his part of the previously mentioned contract, this ceremony will be the first time where he will have listened to it outside of that very small controlled environment. There will be excitement and note taking, discussion and further planning. This ceremony is a wedding of sorts, and a degree deeper into the greater contract. In leaving there I will bring with me a CDR of all the songs and sounds that will eventually make up Free Alongside Ship, I will walk up the bottom section of his driveway to Amy's vehicle and get behind the wheel. Driving back down the Coast Highway One to LA will be like leaving the chapel, from there I will head to Devin's, to hand him his copy of the songs, so that he can listen to them while he completes his packing.
As timing would have it Devin leaves for Iceland the next morning. He'll be able to take with him our songs, to enjoy and become further intimately acquainted with. Iceland will be Devins Honeymoon.
As luck and timing will have it, the following Wednesday Amy and I will board a plane, to take our Free Alongside Ship honeymoon to Hawaii. A trip already so preposterously governed by Luck and timing that Amy won it by being the 98th caller to a radio station telephone number.
Trips we all planned months ago, lined up just in time to celebrate our labor's fruit, it's strange this life.
As timing would have it Devin leaves for Iceland the next morning. He'll be able to take with him our songs, to enjoy and become further intimately acquainted with. Iceland will be Devins Honeymoon.
As luck and timing will have it, the following Wednesday Amy and I will board a plane, to take our Free Alongside Ship honeymoon to Hawaii. A trip already so preposterously governed by Luck and timing that Amy won it by being the 98th caller to a radio station telephone number.
Trips we all planned months ago, lined up just in time to celebrate our labor's fruit, it's strange this life.
Fidgets
I spoke last night on the phone with Hoagie who is just about finishing rough mixing our album, Free Alongside Ship. This weekend I and possibly the others will head up coast highway one to Malibu to hear the rough draft of the album in it's entirety. The excitement I feel I so foreign as to be difficult to describe.
Looking back at my musical aspirations it's amazing to see the way things work out, and how they work out differently than I could have possibly expected. The dream was always that you play the music and try and fit the part and then someone comes along and swoops you up on the wing of a recording contract, and they hire everyone to do all these wonderful things for you, and the end result would make me happy beyond all compare. What a ridiculous crock of shit! To think that my dreams as a free young man amounted to the idea of playing a very bit part in my art, my direction and my life. How sad it would have been to be on the eve of accomplishing that dream! Feeling the shackles tighten, going to listen to our record and realizing that our meant a great deal more than the three people in my band. That our included much more so than me and Devin and Amy. That our would include a sleazy A&R man or Fifty, A President of a large record company, A board of directors, Accountants, Market Research Teams, an entire Media Conglomerate, Share Holders, Bean Counters, Investors, Dirty Men in Smoked Filled Rooms all across our country cackling to themselves while ashing Cuban cigars on the floor, flicking ashes at the illegal immigrants they barely pay to follow them around and suck up the muck with dust busters which they sold to them, and require them to buy as a condition of their independent contract. Sometimes failure is the greatest success.
I have a different recording contract. I have a contract with two other people in my band, that I have signed with years of effort. My contract says that I believe in you as you believe in me, and that as long as these desires stir within us I will continue to work at what gives me pleasure. I have a contract with Hoagie who has worked so hard on mixing the results of our recording, it is based on the faith that each aspect brought to the table is good and worthy, and that hard work completed will be worth spreading to anyone who will listen. Lastly I have a contract with myself, but that's just between us.
Looking back at my musical aspirations it's amazing to see the way things work out, and how they work out differently than I could have possibly expected. The dream was always that you play the music and try and fit the part and then someone comes along and swoops you up on the wing of a recording contract, and they hire everyone to do all these wonderful things for you, and the end result would make me happy beyond all compare. What a ridiculous crock of shit! To think that my dreams as a free young man amounted to the idea of playing a very bit part in my art, my direction and my life. How sad it would have been to be on the eve of accomplishing that dream! Feeling the shackles tighten, going to listen to our record and realizing that our meant a great deal more than the three people in my band. That our included much more so than me and Devin and Amy. That our would include a sleazy A&R man or Fifty, A President of a large record company, A board of directors, Accountants, Market Research Teams, an entire Media Conglomerate, Share Holders, Bean Counters, Investors, Dirty Men in Smoked Filled Rooms all across our country cackling to themselves while ashing Cuban cigars on the floor, flicking ashes at the illegal immigrants they barely pay to follow them around and suck up the muck with dust busters which they sold to them, and require them to buy as a condition of their independent contract. Sometimes failure is the greatest success.
I have a different recording contract. I have a contract with two other people in my band, that I have signed with years of effort. My contract says that I believe in you as you believe in me, and that as long as these desires stir within us I will continue to work at what gives me pleasure. I have a contract with Hoagie who has worked so hard on mixing the results of our recording, it is based on the faith that each aspect brought to the table is good and worthy, and that hard work completed will be worth spreading to anyone who will listen. Lastly I have a contract with myself, but that's just between us.
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
recaptivate
Friday night's show in the valley was among the odd end of the SG spectrum. Weber's being filled with bizarre implements and strange people, with a vibe just far enough off as to make me unsettled. All of the strange beings and items in the room caused the sounds to make odd ripples as they reverberated off each of them. The stage surrounded by a large wooden railing caused the performers to feel not unlike playing from the deck of a ship, in my mind a pirate ship, we were on the main deck, the crowd on the deck below, Amy tempting them to mutiny, at the same time daring them to run it themselves. In the end they could tell she was crazy enough to be completely serious in everything she said, so when Amy wanted something thrown at her, a young man threw a $20 bill.
Saturday Amy and I were the special guests of Mr. Tiger to an art opening at the long closed Downtown MOCA gallery. The exhibit was titled ecstasy.... Something about altered states and what not, I don't really care much about the title, I just went along to dig the ride, and to try my hardest to take an active roll in the theme, I believe the three of us succeeded admirably. The highlights for me included a room w/ a DJ, which was basically and art piece that functioned much like any dance club, only with better decor than you've probably ever seen. I can't really describe the feeling so I'll cop out.
Another highlight was a large cavernous dark room with strands of equa-distant green l.e.d.s hung from the ceiling, the whole room filled with these hanging lights, and you the viewer allowed to walk through them and take part in the spectacle, seeing how with the exact measurement every direction you looked became a point in a perfect line, like being in a three dimensional lighted bar graph. Your life and your options are laid out for you in implication, it's easy then to see what is yours for the making.
After the opening the three of us went lind to a party that I had read about on myspace. The party taking place in a soon to be demolished hotel near downtown. It was dark when we pulled up, a rather unruly line had formed out front, it was obvious that people at this point were not getting in. Amy takes it upon herself to go and speak to a few young girls standing upon the porch. When asked how long the wait is to get in the girls tell her it's long, but they are a band w/ an extra plus one. Amy tells her that is very nice but I have these two boys w/ me also. She says, okay, then their names are Fury and Oil, and you are Emily's plus one.
Code names in hand we march to the front of the line and are allowed in no questions asked. Once inside we are herded to an elevator, where we waited to be taken to the top. To my horror I learn that nearly all the hotel has been chained up and that the two lobby elevators are the only way to get to and from the party location, smartly placed on the upper most floor. The elevator attendee is very kind, she warns us to never get into this elevator with more than 6 people, because it will fall, she also tells us just as we enter the party to be very careful as there are some very bad people here.
She did not even need to give this warning as I soon found out upon entering the sixth floor corridor, The atmosphere was thick and dirty, clinging to everything is that horrible psychic muck that groups of people not properly planned for nor accommodated make. I see all around me kids, nearly all of them to young and dumb to be handled the responsibility of governing themselves, multiply that by drugs and alcohol and you have an idiots Paradise. Bands are heard playing from down the hall and as you smoosh and stomp your way through the throngs of smoking children to pass by rooms you can see that bands are actually playing inside of the hotel guest rooms, feedback and ear splitting drum shots are predictably overly present. I am aghast in the horror of moronity around me. Feeling trapped and betrayed, this is not a party! Children let me tell you, you have not yet learned the art of reveling.
Finally our front door saviors swoop down upon us, telling us that we may hang out in their band room, number 614. Pushing again through the bad energy and worse decisions we finally reach the room, we are permitted in. The heat of the hallway and the smoke is gone. We are in a regular, clean, non-crowded hotel room containing people that I would probably let drive me home, all of which even appear to be old enough to legally do so. Their band name is Emily, they are an all female electro outfit, we have things in common. It's nice but I still feel what is going on in the hotel around me.
Soon there comes seeping rumors that police have arrived, that the party will be shut down. I even once heard the hotel was on fire, luckily this was not true. Eventually the rumors of the police become pressing fact and we all choose to leave while there is still a choice involved. We find that there is an unlocked staircase, it leads to the back of the hotel, from there we cut through the underground garage enroute to our vehicle. Startling crashing sounds and breaking glass. The idiots left inside are actually so short sighted as to be throwing bottles and things out of the upper floor windows.
Finally escape is made, we all decide it was interesting to see, so we were not sorry to have gone, but I would not go so far as to call it a good time.
Saturday Amy and I were the special guests of Mr. Tiger to an art opening at the long closed Downtown MOCA gallery. The exhibit was titled ecstasy.... Something about altered states and what not, I don't really care much about the title, I just went along to dig the ride, and to try my hardest to take an active roll in the theme, I believe the three of us succeeded admirably. The highlights for me included a room w/ a DJ, which was basically and art piece that functioned much like any dance club, only with better decor than you've probably ever seen. I can't really describe the feeling so I'll cop out.
Another highlight was a large cavernous dark room with strands of equa-distant green l.e.d.s hung from the ceiling, the whole room filled with these hanging lights, and you the viewer allowed to walk through them and take part in the spectacle, seeing how with the exact measurement every direction you looked became a point in a perfect line, like being in a three dimensional lighted bar graph. Your life and your options are laid out for you in implication, it's easy then to see what is yours for the making.
After the opening the three of us went lind to a party that I had read about on myspace. The party taking place in a soon to be demolished hotel near downtown. It was dark when we pulled up, a rather unruly line had formed out front, it was obvious that people at this point were not getting in. Amy takes it upon herself to go and speak to a few young girls standing upon the porch. When asked how long the wait is to get in the girls tell her it's long, but they are a band w/ an extra plus one. Amy tells her that is very nice but I have these two boys w/ me also. She says, okay, then their names are Fury and Oil, and you are Emily's plus one.
Code names in hand we march to the front of the line and are allowed in no questions asked. Once inside we are herded to an elevator, where we waited to be taken to the top. To my horror I learn that nearly all the hotel has been chained up and that the two lobby elevators are the only way to get to and from the party location, smartly placed on the upper most floor. The elevator attendee is very kind, she warns us to never get into this elevator with more than 6 people, because it will fall, she also tells us just as we enter the party to be very careful as there are some very bad people here.
She did not even need to give this warning as I soon found out upon entering the sixth floor corridor, The atmosphere was thick and dirty, clinging to everything is that horrible psychic muck that groups of people not properly planned for nor accommodated make. I see all around me kids, nearly all of them to young and dumb to be handled the responsibility of governing themselves, multiply that by drugs and alcohol and you have an idiots Paradise. Bands are heard playing from down the hall and as you smoosh and stomp your way through the throngs of smoking children to pass by rooms you can see that bands are actually playing inside of the hotel guest rooms, feedback and ear splitting drum shots are predictably overly present. I am aghast in the horror of moronity around me. Feeling trapped and betrayed, this is not a party! Children let me tell you, you have not yet learned the art of reveling.
Finally our front door saviors swoop down upon us, telling us that we may hang out in their band room, number 614. Pushing again through the bad energy and worse decisions we finally reach the room, we are permitted in. The heat of the hallway and the smoke is gone. We are in a regular, clean, non-crowded hotel room containing people that I would probably let drive me home, all of which even appear to be old enough to legally do so. Their band name is Emily, they are an all female electro outfit, we have things in common. It's nice but I still feel what is going on in the hotel around me.
Soon there comes seeping rumors that police have arrived, that the party will be shut down. I even once heard the hotel was on fire, luckily this was not true. Eventually the rumors of the police become pressing fact and we all choose to leave while there is still a choice involved. We find that there is an unlocked staircase, it leads to the back of the hotel, from there we cut through the underground garage enroute to our vehicle. Startling crashing sounds and breaking glass. The idiots left inside are actually so short sighted as to be throwing bottles and things out of the upper floor windows.
Finally escape is made, we all decide it was interesting to see, so we were not sorry to have gone, but I would not go so far as to call it a good time.
Friday, October 07, 2005
Always been a fan
Nice day to have a little blog I guess. This week has been catch up and flea battle. Our poor kitties, they know not why they are not allowed in the bedroom. They have waited at the door and wondered for days why they are not allowed in. Henry has given up on us, he's taken to hiding out in the kitchen to prove to us that we need him more than he needs us. Unless candy or gravy is involved. Wednesday night we stepped up the battle and spent $70 and 3 hours on the offensive, signs that we will prevail are there if you look hard enough, but poor Arthur can't see that yet.
Tonight we play some bar I've never been to or heard of. I prefer to go in cold.
I have another idea that I want to start blogging about today but it will probably take a great deal of time.
Tonight we play some bar I've never been to or heard of. I prefer to go in cold.
I have another idea that I want to start blogging about today but it will probably take a great deal of time.
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