beautiful, funny, sad & true

My friend just called to tell me that he got a message on BookOfFaces from a girl in his high school class.  This year is their twentieth reunion, so the class is using that web site as the point of connection for everyone.

So he got a message from a woman saying that she remembers him from choir, and asking him if he also used to play in the band Iron Horse.  My friend said he did, and she told him that to this day she’s married to a guy she met at one of our shows.  To the few and the proud who may actually have been in attendance at Iron Horse shows back in the day, and who might also be reading this, it was our show at the Ahtanum Youth Park.

There, you see?  Music really does have the power to bring people together, especially if it’s the music of INXS, Yngwie Malmsteen, Van Halen and the Beatles.  And, of course, the Fat Boys.  She said they slow-danced to our version of “Honesty” by Billy Joel, which we did an off-the-cuff version of (along with many other songs) in order to stretch out the night.

This is one of those blog moments when I wish I had a VHS-to-computer transcriber thingy, because I have that show somewhere on a videotape, but I have no way to get it onto my Mac.  So I could totally allow her to relive the magic all over again, by finding her on BookOfFaces and sending her a link to this blog entry, with a hilarious old video of the song she and her husband danced to, way back when.  I suppose it’s the thought that counts, right?  I’d totally do that if I had the technology.  Grrr.

That story made me laugh, warmed my heart, and brought a little tear to my eye all at the same time, mostly because A) those of us in the band thought it was a fairly crappy but funny show, where we did all these weird songs we’d never played before, and B) I just think it’s awesome that not only did she meet her future husband at that of all shows, but that they’re still together now, over twenty years later.

Le Sigh.

I just got tagged by Carolina to reveal six random things about myself.  You may be surprised to find out that I’ve never been tagged in one of these things before, so I’m rapidly trying to think of what I can write about, since I usually have something in mind before I ever start writing.

Okay, here goes.

NUMBER ONE:

I love Bach’s organ music.  I mean LOVE IT love it.  If I could marry it, I would.  I love it so much that if it’s playing, I can’t do anything else because I get absolutely sucked in by its perfect structure and beauty. Here’s an example of what I’m talking about.  E. Power Biggs playing “The Jig.”

One of my favorite memories of my dad (How many times do you hear me say THAT?) is when the two of us were attempting to play this particular piece on a beautiful pipe organ in Ellensburg, Washington. I was sitting on the bench, playing the manuals (that’s organ terminology for keyboards) and my dad was on his hands and knees underneath the bench, playing the pedals with his fists. It was hilarious and touching, even moreso when I think about it now. I’ll never forget that moment.

NUMBER TWO:

Speaking of Number Two, I find it absolutely repulsive to have to listen to someone go Number Two in the bathroom (I’m thinking of the bathroom at work, by the way), especially since most guys are notoriously disgusting and loud when it comes to this particular activity.  I’m so disgusted by it that if there’s someone else already in the bathroom when I walk in, I’ve been known to go downstairs so that I don’t have to listen to that happening.  I mean, really.  The sound, the smell, everything.  Ewww.  And if they’re sitting there tapping away on their cell phones, that grosses me out even more, because I imagine them wiping their asses and then grabbing their phones before they get the chance to wash their hands again.  NASTY.  I hope no one ever has to borrow their phones for any reason.

NUMBER THREE:

I used to have two mullets.  No, not at the same time, but consecutively.  I liked them so much that I grew one out until it got all scraggly, and then I cut it off and grew another one, which was only a slight improvement over the previous one.  Here’s a picture of the first one, in progress, in 1988. . .

. . .and here’s a picture of the second one, in full effect, not long before it got cut (THANK GOD) in 1995:

I know; I was hot.

NUMBER FOUR:

The longest time that I’ve ever dated someone was five years (on again/off again).  The shortest time was three days.  Does that count as two things?  I don’t know, but I’m counting it as one two-part answer to one two-part question.

NUMBER FIVE:

I have no tattoos or piercings of any kind.  I used to have my left ear pierced, around the time of Mullet Number One, but I only wore an earring in it for about a year, and I haven’t worn one since then, so the hole has long since closed up.  No, I don’t have any pictures of that.

NUMBER SIX:

I’ve made more money playing the accordion than any of the other instruments I play.  It’s paid for itself many times over.  The cello is in second place, then probably the electric guitar.

NUMBER SEVEN:

There is NO Number Seven.  Thank you.

So, which six people would I like to tag and to see respond to this in kind on their own blogs?

Andrea

Josh

Emily

Sarah

Jo(e)

BoringFish

Thank you to Carolina for including me in this, thank you to YOU for reading, and thank you six participants (or anyone else who wishes to) for lending your metaphorical voices to this endeavor.

OneYearAgo

First of all, you’ll be glad to know that there’s good news on the car front.  I’ll spare you some of the details, but it boils down to the fact that since the distributor fixed the problem, that means that the timing belt is okay, and that I don’t have to do Part Two of the repair Plan.  Yee haw.  I’m still broke, though, for the time being, but at least I’ll only be broke for a month, instead of clear into the new year.

So that’s good, I guess.

Had a couple of odd experiences at shows this past weekend.  At the Breanna and Justin show, we had our first heckler, of sorts.  He was drunkenly walking from table to table and chatting up the all of the ladies, whether they were with their respective guys or not.  Naturally, this included Breanna as well, which already had him on Justin’s radar screen.  In the middle of our second set, Justin started to play one of his songs, which apparently has a similar chord progression to a classic rock song, because the guy started laughing and singing the classic rock song really loudly.  Justin stopped playing and said, “Do you want to come up here and sing?”

“No, I just blahblah suck blahblah mumble mumble.”

“Y’know what?  I don’t like you very much.”

“I don’t like you either.”  This was a very awkward and tense moment.  No one, including us, had any idea what this guy was likely to do next.

Justin’s honesty and diplomacy kicked in.  “Here’s the thing.  As a musician, you spend your whole life learning how to play the guitar, how to sing, how to write songs.  Then you go and play them for people, and some people really like them.  And that’s great.  Some people don’t like them, and that’s cool too.  Not everybody has to like them.  But if you don’t like it, and you don’t want to be here, then you can go ahead and leave.”

The guy stood up and walked slowly to the front of the stage, looked at Justin angrily for a second, then turned and walked down the stairs and out of the room.  Everyone clapped for Justin, out of a sense of relief and a bit of amazement too, I think.

The rest of the show was stellar after that.  We felt energized and invigorated, and played our best.  Before that, we had some technical problems, and some sound problems, and it was an ‘off’ cello night for me, which I have occasionally.  I even have them sometimes when I play guitar, after all these years.  Incidentally, November 20th (that’s tomorrow) is the anniversary of the day that I got my very first guitar, clear back in 1985.  I’ll let you work out the math on that, and in the meantime, I’ll try to scrounge up a picture.

At the IrishBand show on Saturday, Singer and his girlfriend had an argument. That’s all I’ll say about it, partly because they seem to have worked things out, and partly because both of them are readers of this blog.  All seems to be forgiven, but it did make for an uncomfortable show, and a short one at that.

Singer called me first thing in the morning to ask me if I was still up for our musician friend’s birthday brunch, which I had to confess that I’d forgotten about.  I said yes, I’d love to go, and he and Violinist came and picked me up.  The party was a blast.  We had quiche, and bacon (Singer, a lifelong vegetarian, ate bacon for the first time!), and cheesy potatoes of some sort, and all kinds of muffins and bagels, and fruit, and chai, and the best Bloody Mary I’ve ever had in my entire life.  Violinist even stuck a piece of bacon in his, which looked repulsive, but. . .well, he seemed to enjoy it.  I wished that I had my camera with me, but at least I had my phone, so here’s a picture.

We left around 1:30 and came back to my place to do record some parts (djembe, vocals, and violin) for one of our songs.  Sounds really good so far, but it isn’t quite there yet, so we have some re-recording to do.

In other news, CincinnatiFriend is in town to defend her dissertation.  She’s actually doing that as I’m writing this, and I’m going to go and visit her after I’m done at work.  I’m super excited to see her again.  She moved a year and half ago, and I can’t believe it’s been that long.  I’m taking tomorrow off from work so that we can either go to all of her favorite haunts, or take a little day trip and catch up about everything.

Mom and Stepdad are coming to visit from Yakima on Friday, which should be fun.  They’ll be staying with me, for the first time since I’ve lived here in Portland.  This is the first time that I’ve had the right kind of living space (and the right kind of furniture) to make that possible and enjoyable for all of us.  Wish me luck.  We’re gonna do lots of cooking, and a bit of shopping, and J’s going to get to meet them.  Hopefully CincinnatiFriend and RockShowGirl will get to meet them too.

Should be a great week.  I’ll keep you posted.

This week is Banned Books Week, according to the American Library Association, and here’s a list of some of the most popular ones.  I’ve read about half of the books on the list, and among them are some of my favorites, including Catcher in the Rye, Of Mice and Men, To Kill a Mockingbird, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, Lord of the Rings, and A Clockwork Orange.

Of particular interest (to me, anyway) was the inclusion of Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison, thanks in part to my beloved alma mater, the Yakima School District:

Invisible Man, Ralph Ellison

Excerpts banned in Butler, PA (1975); removed from the high school English reading list in St. Francis, WI (1975). Retained in the Yakima, WA schools (1994) after a five-month dispute over what advanced high school students should read in the classroom. Two parents raised concerns about profanity and images of violence and sexuality in the book and requested that it be removed from the reading list.

Thanks, Yakima.  That must be why we had to suffer through forgettably crappy books like Silas Marner and Billy Budd instead of ‘real’ books that people read everywhere else.  When my English teacher (God rest her soul, assuming that she’s dead) assigned us Silas Marner, she said, “You’re not going to like this book, but that’s what we’re going to read.”

I was the quietest, shyest (shiest?) person in human history back then, but I raised my hand, and she motioned for me to speak.

“I love to read, and there are a lot of books out there.  Isn’t there something else with a similar message that maybe we would enjoy?”

“I’m sure there is, but we’re going to read this.”

That happened in my sophomore year of high school, and that’s the point at which I officially gave up.  Coincidentally enough, I got my first electric guitar not long after that.  I thank GreatSpirit every day that I already loved to read, because the vast majority of the people I knew in Yakima actually hated reading due to the so-called learning environment we had in our schools.  I, on the other hand, had my life saved by books, and it breaks my heart to know that people all over the country are trying at this very moment to deprive kids of that experience.

That being said, I have to go on record and say that a ban is sometimes the best thing that could possibly happen to a creative work, because it creates a controversy, and then people will buy the work just to see what all the fuss is about.  I worked in a record store at the time 2 Live Crew’s Nasty As They Wanna Be came out, and our dusty copies sat on the shelf for months until it got banned, and then we couldn’t order copies fast enough to fulfill the overwhelming demand for it.  Those guys are multi-millionaires by now, but I’m positive that they’d be just another group of obscure hip hop also-ran’s without the ban.

I think Oscar Wilde was correct with his famous line from The Picture of Dorian Gray, “There is only thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is NOT being talked about.”

Suffice it to say that when I write a book, I give you permission to ban it.  In fact, I encourage you to ban it.  I want it to cause so much controversy that I have to go into hiding for years, like Salman Rushdie and J. D. Salinger did.

And now, I have some reading to do.  The first book on my list is Invisible Man.

OneYearAgo

Late last night, one of my friends sent me an e-mail containing a link to a WebSiteLikeTV video of pictures that were taken at my high school reunion, which happened about a month ago.  Naturally, I gave it a miss, because it’s a well-established fact by now that I hated both high school and the town I grew up in. I have no nostalgia for that time of my life at all.  I think if I could have it surgically excised from my head, I’d sign up for that procedure before you could finish saying, ‘Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.’

Based on the pictures from the event, it looks as if about thirty people attended the reunion, out of a graduating class of around four hundred.  Normally for something like this, I would post a link to the video so that you could experience it too, but believe me when I tell you that in this case I’m doing you a favor by not including it.  I recognized about five people, and only one or maybe two would have been nice to chat with for a while. 

Everyone went bar hopping on both Friday and Saturday night, and then had a picnic in the park on Sunday, which involved all their kids and families, and sounded pretty awful.  Most, it seems, married others from the class and stayed in town.  If that had been my fate, I have no doubt that I would not be alive today.  I feel very fortunate to have escaped Yakima’s event horizon.

[shudder]

Moving on.

In other news, I got a call from my friend Jim, whose studio I’ve been planning to use for both new recording projects starting this month, to tell me that the golf course outside his place is being completely torn up, redesigned, and then rebuilt.  Construction started Monday and will last until spring.  The crews, with their huge earth movers, will be working approximately ten hours per day, six days a week.  This leaves only Sundays for recording purposes.  This is not the end of the world, or the end of either project, but it sure puts a cramp on our collective style.

Work has been extremely stressful this week.  Thank gawd for the play-reading group tonight, a gig with IrishBand tomorrow night, and a gig down in Salem with Breanna ‘n’ Justin on Friday night.   And remember Andrea, who moved to Switzerland right after we finished her CD?  She’s in town this week and next, so I’m going to go see her play a show on Saturday, and hopefully make some time to get some Ethiopian food while she’s here.

Our apartment building is getting a new heating system this week.  The good news is that the people whose apartments are freezing in the winter will no longer have to freeze, the people whose apartments are boiling will no longer have to boil, and the fuel tank which runs out of fuel on the coldest nights of the year will no longer have to be filled.  The bad news is that we’ll each have to pay for our own heat, which we haven’t had to do thus far.  I know; I know.  I shouldn’t complain about that, because we have such a good thing going here.  But it will be a tremendous improvement over the antiquated boiler and heating system.  I’ll miss the central fan, though.  I sure hope they keep that around for the summers.

Hmm.  How to end this entry. . .

Well, here you go. Since we were talking about YouTube (no, I’m not going to include the reunion), here’s a funny video about an Australian oil tanker crash.