beautiful, funny, sad & true

One of my musician friends hates the phrase ‘mixed bag’, but I’m going to go ahead and use it (albeit with my tongue planted firmly in my cheek), because that’s what this week has been. After a debilitatingly sad couple of weeks, I’m finally feeling able to go and do all the things I normally do. Wednesday night was the play-reading group, and I feel like that’s what brought me back to life. The play we read was the story of a quirky pianist (so naturally I played piano) who had lots of children, and the story was set in an Irish Catholic neighborhood of Chicago, around the time of Prohibition. Very well-written and humorous, and I got the honor of reading the lead role. After that, two of the guys from the group and I went out and talked, and shared a basket of French fries, and caught up on each others’ lives. It was nice, and genuine, and I appreciated it.

Thursday I raced over to my favorite new sushi place to meet Genie-Wa. She’s here visiting her mom and interviewing for jobs so that she can move back here again, which I for one am very glad about. Her rental car was a white convertible, and after some trial and error, we finally figured out how to put the top down. Perfect timing, too, because the seemingly interminable months of shitty, depressing weather are finally starting to break here in Portland, so I’m sure she’ll have plenty of opportunities to race around and enjoy it.

As we were heading our separate ways, my hospitalized friend called. Since she doesn’t have a phone in her room, she has to walk clear across the building into a public area, and sometimes there are people milling around, and other times the place is empty. Sometimes people are using the phone, so she has to walk clear back to her room and try again later. She spends most of her days sleeping. Weekends are particularly long, because the doctors aren’t on duty, so I’m going to go visit her this morning, actually, before my afternoon cello gig and evening accordion gig. These will be the first shows I’ve played in over two weeks. I had to back out of four different gigs since this happened, but now I feel ready to play again.

Last night I went to Slabtown to see three bands; Lasers All The Time, Shim, and Hockey. All amazing. I already had Hockey’s CD because the drummer works with me. I first listened to their CD in my car, and I was so impressed with it that it stayed in constant rotation (as they say in radio jargon) for two weeks.

I was supposed to meet my dad for breakfast at 9:00 this morning. Around 8:00 I heard a strange tapping on my door. It wasn’t a knock, but it sounded like someone was tapping my door with something wooden, or maybe metal. Freaked me out, because strange knocks that early in the morning, particularly in my hidden apartment, are almost never because of good news. So I nervously opened the door, to find my dad on my doorstep. “Would you believe. . .I’m early?” he asked. Sheesh. Naturally, my place is a complete disaster area, because I haven’t been home for the last three nights, and I just rearranged my furniture and everything, so I felt nervous about the early-morning knocks, and also about the disarray of my place.

The visit went okay, though. He asked about my friend, and asked a bit about what our relationship was like, and how she was doing, and seemed (somewhat uncharacteristically) empathetic and understanding. But again, he was nice, and genuine, so I certainly appreciated that.

I’ve noticed quite a few blog visits from two different places recently; one of which is in the Portland area, and the other is in the Bay Area. I have a pretty good idea of the places that the regular readers are from, and of those of my friends who read this blog, but these are both new ones. If you’re one of the long-term readers of BFST, you’ll understand why I raise an eyebrow at sudden bursts of energy like that. That’s all I’ll say about it.

Took my cello in for a quick and easy repair the other day. It has a ‘wolf’ tone, which is a common affliction for cellos. It’s hard to explain, but certain notes make the body vibrate excessively, and the horrible, warbling tone it produces when that happens is called a wolf. I don’t know why it’s called that, but I’m just glad that it’s minimized now. They never completely go away, apparently. The repair guy said that the cello instructor at the main university here in town has a cello that’s worth nine hundred thousand dollars, but it has that wolf tone, which was minimized by sticking a piece of a wine cork down between the body and the tailpiece. So funny, and now I have one there too.

And now it’s time to drive out to the hospital.

OneYearAgo

Tossed In, an avid and extremely prolific blogger in his own right, and I were talking the other day about the bad reputation that blogs have. Most people don’t consider them legitimate forms of writing, even though more and more blogs every day are cited as sources for (start reading in stentorian tones. . .now) ‘serious’ news and reporting.

We wondered what it will take to get blogging taken more seriously. We didn’t really come up with an answer – other than to keep writing as well and as interestingly as we can, of course – but we both agreed that there’s more than enough material out there cluttering up the internet that gives bloggers in general a bad name. I’m sure this blog would NEVER fall into the ‘clutter’ category. Noooo way. Not even remotely possible.

I don’t have any delusions. I write to help myself remember things, and to have fun, and to share things that, with any luck, other people will enjoy as well. So far, most have. Some have not; c’est la vie. The precious few dissenters over the years have been blow-darted, or crushed by boulders, or bisected by light-rail commuter trains. In a few cases, pianos have mysteriously fallen on them from a great height. If you ask me to my face, I will vehemently deny all knowledge of these things.

But that, as they say, is neither here nor there; back to Tossed In. He called at eight o’ clock on Thursday morning to invite me to see a play that night. I had a gig with Susie, but luckily it was a super-early one, so I was able to go, and I’m very glad that I was. The play was A Long Christmas Ride Home, and it was strange, and surprising, and excellent. We may go see it a second time, which would actually be his third time. Afterwards, we went to the Blue Monk, the jazz club up the street from the theater, to say hello to some of the actors (he pretty much knows all of them, I know only a few) and to get some of the Blue Monk’s excellent food.

In other news, I’m borrowing a theremin for the next few days. This makes me very, very happy. One of my friends in the play-reading group wrote a semi-biographical play about the instrument’s inventor, and the group will be reading it this week. Since I’m the music guy in the group, I kept wondering what instrument I could bring that would sound even close to that. I was going to bring the cello, because it could be used in a similar way, but when Matt suggested I use his theremin, I jumped at the chance. Yay! I just know that I’m going to end up wanting (and buying) one of my own after this.

And while we’re on the subject, can I just take a minute to say how much I appreciate the play-reading group? Cause I do. They’re such tremendous people, who are interesting and professional and. . .alive, in a way that is very refreshing. It’s always nice to be around people who really ‘get it.’ They’re such a source of entertainment, friendship, and camaraderie that I make it a priority to be there, no matter how busy the rest of my life gets.

I’m thinking of rearranging the furniture in my apartment, but I don’t quite feel up to that task just yet. I don’t have a Plan for it, but I have a feeling I’m just going to end up doing it one weekend in the near future. It’s been about nine months or so since the last rearrangement, which was really more of a replacement than a rearrangement, because I got rid of some bookshelves and a computer desk that I’ve had for ages, and replaced them, but the new stuff is pretty much in the same spot that the old stuff was in, and it’s getting to be about time to shake things up again.

Wow, that was a really long sentence.

Oh yeah. . .and you can stop reading in stentorian tones now. Thank you.

OneYearAgo

At some point yesterday, the conversation turned to Dumb or Funny Things We Said When We Were Kids.

You know, the old standards like, ‘I know you are, but what am I?’ or ‘Same to YOU but more OF it.’ And who could forget the time-honored older brother classic, ‘Why are you always hitting yourself?’ As an older brother myself, I have to say that no one tells you about that one. It’s not as if there’s a group of Freemasons who roam the streets looking for young boys, and when they find you, they pull you aside and whisper the joke to you. Nope, it just pops into your head one day–as if by divine intervention–and you realize that you alone have just created the newest, funniest joke in the history of jokes. You’re not hitting him, he’s actually doing it to himself. You’re just trying to figure out why, and ‘glean what afflicts him’, as Tom Stoppard would say.

‘I’m rubber and you’re glue; bounces off me and sticks to you’ was another great one, and then later in the evening, as I was thinking about this conversation, I remembered a childrens’ song that seems to be sung slightly differently in different regions of the country. You’ll know it, so I’m not even going to name it, but I’m interested to know if you know a different version of it.

Growing up in Yakima, Washington, we all used to sing it this way:

Great green globs of greasy, grimy gopher guts

Mutilated monkey meat

Chopped-up baby parakeet

Lukewarm vomit floatin’ down the street

And me without my spoon (but I’ve got a straw!)

I’ve heard it a bunch of different ways, but as I’m writing this, I can’t remember any of the variations. Maybe you can help me remember some?

Then, of course, there was the infamous F.A.G./M.A.G. scenario, which I’ve already written about. I half-expect that one to turn up in a movie.

When you’re a teenager, all bets are off. You never know WHAT is going to come flying out of your mouth at any given time. My favorite example (and I use the word ‘favorite’ loosely) is when I came home one day to find my brother and his friend were playing a video game; I believe it was Baseball on the Sega Genesis. The score was some ridiculously high number to nothing, and to the person who was losing, I laughed and said, “Man, you’re getting your butt fuckin’ slaughtered.” Both my brother and his friend burst out laughing. They still remember that vividly, by the way, and they like to remind me about it to this day, all these twenty-some years later.

How the heck did I end up telling that?

Well, I guess if you liked that one, then you’ll be glad to know that there are plenty more like it. If you didn’t. . .well. . .there are still plenty more like it.

And I really would like to know if you can remember some other variation of Gopher Guts, and if you remember some of those other dumb phrases that we all thought were so brilliant back in the day.

Oh yeah. . .and here’s one more category I ask you to also be thinking about; Changed Acronyms. For example, when my brother and I would see commercials for TCBY–which stood for “The Country’s Best Yogurt” or something equally innocuous–we’d say, “Too Crusty Butt Yogurt,” and laugh like hyenas. And not just once, either, but multiple times.

So yeah. . .just be thinking about those things, if you would, please. Thank you.

And now I’m going to change my laundry loads, take a nap, and then play the cello for a while, to warm up a bit before the show tonight.

Tonight I spent an hour on the phone with a great friend who took a very big and gutsy step recently. I choose to say no more about it, but it took great courage to step up and do what he did, and I for one appreciate it whole-heartedly.

What a day this has been. After such a winter-storm-filled weekend, the weather was beautiful, so I didn’t really notice how stressful the day at work was. Went to lunch at CheapGoodMexicanRestaurant with a co-worker friend, and ran into the guy who engineered one of my recent drum recording sessions with Sarah. Not ShinsEngineer, but the other guy. Really nice guy, and since I hadn’t seen him since we did the recording session, it was really great to run into him again.

Sorry if this entry seems a bit cryptic, but I did just want to check in before I head out to rehearse for the play. Incidentally, here’s the flyer for said play:

I know I’ve said it before, but I’m incredibly honored to be a part of this production. It’s hilarious and touching and strange, and I just love it. I’m completely impressed with the people who are creating it, and at the same time, I’m glad to be able to be a part of it, too.

If you’d like to be there, contact me by any means necessary, and I’ll put you in touch with the people you need to be in touch with to get a ticket. They’re a mere ten dollars each. I try not to invite people to every single thing I do, but this one is so unusual–and so great–that if you enjoy what I do, and certainly if you’re a friend of mine, I can pretty much guarantee you that you will have a great time at this show.

This won’t be the last time you’ll hear about it. You will be reminded.

Oh yeah. . .just this second, I remembered that it was April Fools’ Day.

Hunh.

Well.

I don’t know what else to say about that, except that I didn’t get tricked today, and I also have to leave for rehearsal right now. Talk to you soon!

Sorry I’ve been away for a few days. I’ve been meaning to write, but I’ve been busy every single night for the last two weeks. Between the multiple rehearsals for the play, an impromptu recording session with Steph, working a full day every day, it’s just been exhausting.

It’s been crazy. Go to work, go out for lunch with work friends or other friends (like today), come home for an hour or so to eat (or sometimes not), then go either out with a friend, race to a play rehearsal, or off to a gig. On Tuesday, RockShowGirl and I had dinner together here at my apartment, and then she came with me to Stephanie’s recording session–which, incidentally, was great!–and then I dropped off her off and got home at around 11:45. I checked my e-mail really quickly, and saw that Tossed-In was online too. He saw that I was on and called me. We then spent the next hour talking about music and ‘flow’ on the evening of the play, so I finally went to bed at one in the morning.

So yeah; lots of long phone conversations, lots of working, lots of playing, lots of rehearsing, lots of gigging, and it’s not even the weekend yet. Tomorrow I’m working a half day, then driving an hour and a half to visit my dad and stepmom. I’m staying overnight there, then coming back to town on Saturday morning in time to grab my cello and race over to a rehearsal for Bryn Loosely’s CD release party, which is Saturday night. Sunday afternoon is play rehearsal in the middle of the afternoon.

Right now I’m supposed to be getting ready for tonight’s Breanna gig. I’d love to be able to take a shower (woke up too late this morning) and play the cello for a while, but a little bit of down time will help immensely. If I’m lucky, I may just be able to squeeze in all three things.