The cat has taken to growling at the wind and raccoons and rain and birds and squirrels and barking dogs (she's an exclusively indoor cat, so this shit is all through a window). She's still nice to me and the LRC, so she's not done yet. She used to growl when she heard children playing outside. Apparently, she's quite protective of me. I've been trying to be sweet to her, even after the biting incident because she's getting old and I try to be nice to old ladies. My Nitwit is the best cat that I've ever had.
She doesn't usually act like an old cat, actually. She's only 7-8, but with her weight problem (I think that she's diabetic or hypo-thyroid), she's really old for a cat. I need to get a replacement in training, but that's tough because the Nitwit doesn't like other cats. Perhaps I can talk the LRC out of one of her more troublesome felines...
The thing is, I haven't had a fever at all. The wound that has made me ill is a cat bite. It looks like a vampire got me:
Indeed it's totally infected and my lymph nodes are fucked on the right side of my body (I'm glad that I didn't let my previous doctor suck 'em out). Red, distended upper arm ain't a cool thing.
Apparently, she wasn't cool with her new diet. When I pushed her away and told her to go to hell, she snuggled up with me and then fuckin' bit me. Clearly, my feline companion required an attitude adjustment. Nitwit endured serious cat abuse. CALL PETA NOW. Essentially, she got picked up by the head during my "no biting" tirade. I did, however, slam her head into the bathroom door between five and ten times. She wasn't even making an attempt to get away...I'd slam her face-first into the door, and she'd sit there afterwards, waiting for me to do it again.
She's getting to be a mean old lady cat, for sure. I don't know why I should even care if she weighs forty pounds and has a heart attack.
She's been really sweet since the incident, and not as demanding. It seems that Nitwit is like your average girlfriend, and requires a regular beating to stay in line.
As much as I love Jesus (zombie worship is cool), it seems that Easter was a much more secular deal at my haus as a kid. It was way better than Christmas, because we got lots and lots of candy (which was verboten the rest of the year), gifts, and it was the beginning of Spring. I was horrified recently to learn that none of my friends grew up with an Easter tree, and (even more horrifying) that that don't have Easter trees for their kids (note that Nitwit doesn't have an Easter tree, though--it's tempting to put some ears on her for Easter, though). Ross informed me that Easter trees are a very German thing and he had an impressive one when he lived in Austria. I'm basically out of touch with WTF is my German heritage and what's normal. So, I had an Easter tree and bunnies and baskets.
Apparently, Ross is right, and the Germans take Easter quite seriously. This is awesome, even if the title is "Scary German Bunny Man":
I thought that was the lyric for a long time. When I admitted that, we all had a good laugh.
I'm relegated to the black hoe for the time being, while I await parts. It worked all right at practice, and we even got some Walk Among Us-esque sounds at one point on 'Blood Trail' (specifically, the 4-bar bit before the chorus on 'Vampira').
Greg's "new" Gibson sounds amazing, and never feeds back (zero resonance on that design, which totally lends itself to amplification). He had some tuning issues, but I think that I need to set intonation, too--it's been a couple of years since I actually used this bass for a band situation, and with the Colorado, instruments require seasonal adjustment.
I decided that I really don't like the mid-range contour on the Quarter-pounder. It's just not as great as a Whopper. Lots of bass and sparkly highs doesn't really suit the #2 Booger well. I'll be happy to get a flatter-sounding pickup back in my life. I found a response graph that was way impressive last week when I ordered parts, and now I can't find it (bummer). The new setup should be as flat as flat can be, which is especially cool considering that the Booger amps are all about sucked-out mids. The tone is described as 'raw' as well as 'woody', so I figure that I can't really go wrong. It's probably the most expensive precision bass pickup out there, but I found a hell of a deal--if it sucks, I can certainly sell it. I need to figure out WTF is up with cloth-covered wire, because I've always done PVC (in the Stratocaster and the black hoe). It actually sounds a lot easier (and no burning plastic). I can't remember how the grounding plate works, so I'll have to research that, or crack open the black hoe (which, as it turns out, is totally a 1962 re-issue...I shouldn't have messed it up with the new pickup and bridge...oh well...).
I really wanted to try out one of these, though. Curtis Novak is in Wimberly, TX, where my Nitwit is from, which is almost worth the extra effort for a fully custom pickup. If the new one works, great, if not, I'll totally be on the phone with Wimberly.
The only thing that I'm conflicted about is fucking with my setup the week before recording. I know that some people take great pleasure in such things, but I like tried and true, even though the bass will get buried amongst the vocals, I'm certain, and totally okay with (I give the best tone that I have, and if it gets drowned to serve the song/record, oh well). There's a backup plan just in case I forgot how to solder or something.
For those who care...the new pickup is all hand-wound (scattered, but not custom), and the resulting bass will be hand-wired. Do I get a gold star? That crap is all about the marketing, really...all that I care about how the rig sounds. I'm tryin' what other players recommend at this point.
I've got the Nitwit trained to hide under the bed if I tell her "I'm going to shoot you with a rubber band." I don't even have to have a rubber band in my hand. It only took one shot in the ass from across the room to teach her this trick. ---------------- Now playing: Slayer - South Of Heaven
Those damn fools were playing "HEY CAT!" with a fucking tiger. Not a good plan, dudes. Nitwit seems to like it (although she is harassed on the internets), though. The tiger story is fromhere:
Survivor told of taunting in U.S. tiger attack - paper Sat Jan 19, 2008 6:24am IST
SAN FRANCISCO (Reuters) - A survivor of last month's tiger attack at the San Francisco Zoo told the father of a teen-ager killed in the incident that they waved and yelled at the animal just before it struck, a newspaper reported on Friday.
Paul Dhaliwal, 19, said he, his brother Kulbir, 23, and friend Carlos Sousa, 17, stood atop a railing in front of the tiger exhibit while taunting the animal, the San Francisco Chronicle said, citing a police document filed in court.
The Dhaliwals have not described the event publicly, but police have been investigating whether the Christmas Day attack was provoked by taunting.
The female Siberian tiger scaled a 12-1/2-foot wall to attack them. She mauled the Dhaliwal brothers and killed Sousa before police shot her to death.
The document was an affidavit filed by police to request a warrant to search Kulbir Dhaliwal's car, the Chronicle said. During their search, they found marijuana and a partially filled bottle of vodka, it said.
Police have said they interviewed the two brothers, but the affidavit contained only information about what Sousa's father said he was told, the Chronicle said.
A police spokesman was not immediately available for comment.
I got my very own copy of the finished cd on Saturday. The vocals are probably a little louder than I'd have mixed 'em, but they're completely intelligible. Andrew's song is omnipotent with the additional parts. The sparing backing vocals really "evil it up" appropriately. It competes with commercial discs as far as loudness goes; I wouldn't guess that it's a self-recorded deal. It sounds best on a real stereo--the hinkey computer speakers don't cut it.
Nitwit yowls along with the slide guitar on Bones.
Holly jeebus, my little droogies. I'm agonizing about this computer situation. An hour for that last post is fucking painful, reallyreallyreally. I'm actually considering a laptop (gasp), so that I get out of the barn and deal with (fucking) people. The Girl says that laptops are good if you don't work at home--surely that would cut down on inebriated blogging. I think that Heller did this a few years back. He's so much cooler than I am. Technology-inspired lifestyle-change is a horrifying thing to me (it's like buying your first vibrator or something).
This antique machine is not going to do it, though. I'd really like to get a sweet sound card so that I can record some multi-track demos. I'm not certain how many inputs I would require--I'm thinking that somewhere between 10 and 16 would be required for the OC; a similar number would be required for the BLC. Andrew sez that he can do it with 8 in. I need advice from digital music people. Surely some massive storage is in order and big memory. Two questions remain:
how robust should the processor be?
the OS?
In Luddite-related catnews (tm): my Nitwit is now terrorized by the space-heater. I had to rescue her from it this very afternoon. She's experienced this piece of equipment for years...so this is yet another catmystery (tm).
This post is not Tarmints-related, but rather Tarmints-inspired.
"But say -- how do you cure 'em with dead cats?"
"Why, you take your cat and go and get in the graveyard 'long about midnight when somebody that was wicked has been buried; and when it's midnight a devil will come, or maybe two or three, but you can't see 'em, you can only hear something like the wind, or maybe hear 'em talk; and when they're taking that feller away, you heave your cat after 'em and say, 'Devil follow corpse, cat follow devil, warts follow cat, I'm done with ye!' That'll fetch any wart.
One of my jobs was running dead cats on a gurney across the campus of TAMU to the cooler which was located near the incinerator, and sort them into "hold for owner" and "to be burned" piles. The incinerator ran on Thursdays, if I remember correctly. I've had a few dead cats of my own, too. I never used 'em to cure the warts:
Patia
Tigger
Darwin
Foxy
Weeezer
Tigger Two
Mocha (He's the one that had the viking funeral in my 'rents front yard--I can't locate my post regarding that episode, which means that it was probably on the MySpace)
Marmal
Nermal
Amber
Sneakers
Darth Vader
Bakey
Nitwit seems to be much more content now that she's an only pet again. Monkeypuss has gone on permanent vacation to fabulous Lakewood.
It wasn't horrible, but not perfect, either. I was fucking stunned when some people thanked me during dinner with my sweety (across town) later in the evening. That was really strange for me. I think that I maintained my coolness and was pleasant.
I had a moment of unfocus during "Love, It's Not Working." I was getting far too into it. The tempos were agonizing on some of 'em. It made the BLC feel like speed metal. A guitar player missed a few critical pickup notes on a solo (put on your surprised face). I missed loud drums a lot, seriously. All in all, though it wasn't too bad for two full practices and one power trio practice (that one sounded great).
Three shows in the last month or so with three different bands...that's pretty good in my book (the rules).
Post-shows gear gripes:
My SWR 1x15" sucks (we all knew this). That one is relegated to practice cab status. I don't even trust it to deliver after it fucked me on that recording session. I hate that. I can't hear it on stage.
I can't bitch about the electric grandmother too much. She's served my dumb ass well for years. I ought to check the speakers, though. Kurt wanted to do that a while back, and since they're the originals, it might be a good idea. I hate my lame tolex repairs. It's a little lacking in the low end, but kicks like a mule. If I replace speakers, I think that I'll put a couple of different kinds in there.
My Acoustic Control Corp. 406 (that ugly ass 2x15" that used to be in PMFS) sounded really smooth and nice with a little string noise; just how I like it. Apparently it was shaking clothes 20' out (just how I like it). I might transition that one into the OC when no one is looking. It needs work, so I'm moving that up in my projects list. Many of the bass players on the lists seem to be doing the Line-X thing for durability. I can dig that. Tolex gets hurt too easily, and Ozite isn't even an option if you have pets (although I've fired cat junior, feline number one is still here, for a time). The sound guy, Don, accused me of being "one of the loudest bass players in Denver." Also, he said it was a "killer rig." Awesome.
My Booger was solid, although I need to get it into a shop to fix those 4-ohm outputs and punch it up with some 6550s (probably while the mighty Tarmints are out conquering the west coast). It's not loud enough for the OC, and I'm so not into solid state sounds. If I can eek out 50 more watts, I'll be cool, at least until some damn fool guitar player gets a bigger amp or a new booster pedal. I really could get a couple of big amps going just for the OC.
My Orange One needs some help--American made is too weak for my playing, apparently. She's going to get a new brass nut, a new bridge, and new pickups (duncans or rio grandes, most likely) when she's not looking. Okay for BLC, awesome for the OC, but it wasn't the right bass for 4 a.m. because the g-string is too bright. I should've turned down the treble, but I wanted crunch for the loud part. Ah, hindsight....
I need to get a bypass box for the tuner. I've seen schematics on the internets. That pedal is a little tone-robbing asshole, and the output jack is all fucked up (too much beer).
Got some bass projects, for sure. That'll keep me amused on the cheap for a month or so.
Been a lot foggy lately, my friends. Running red lights...stopping at green ones..."losing" important documents. Essentially, I feel high, however, that is not the case. It's like someone is putting depakote in the water supply (supposed to be on 1,500 mg a day). Really miserable. I believe that this numb feeling is a stress-related deal. I've got the "I'm stressed out" rash, again (third time since I was 17). I seem to be dealing fairly well this time.
I probably require a vacation and some weed.
This weekend was restorative, though. My pets are feeling lonely, for sure, but those little assholes have been getting on my nerves. I'm feeling better about the girl after moving in for a few days. We made it out to a show (saw a lot of pals). I had "lost" my driver license. The fucking patriot act means that I can't make a deposit at the bank without one (fuckers). The state of Colorado doesn't accept my birth certificate as valid (although I was born in a U.S. military hospital in country). It's a two-day hassle to get another license. Fuckers.
Practice with BLC was instrumentalists and missing a bass player (put me on the spot without a net). I'm still feeling things out, for sure. My "menacing" tone might not work for this band. I'll try something different for the next practice. If I get the dynamics right, I think that it's doable, though. That's a reasonable goal, right? It's proving to be difficult to adjust to a much quieter band (on 2, the practice rig is far too much--The OC goes to 11). I think that they would've said something if I had been really obscene. They're used to a subliminal bass player, which isn't what I've been doing lately. Andrew did clue me into a decrescendo that I totally did wrong. Thanks, dude--I got it now. It's all going to work out with a little practice. One month until the debut of the unfuckwithable new lineup. Fingers crossed.
I found the MIA license in a truck that I drove a week ago today. Excellent.
Later, I got a bad phone call with another cancer scare. Why is it that everyone I really care about is having these fucking issues?!? Meanwhile, back in my crotch, the "lymphoma" seems to have cured itself sans medical intervention. Whoot.
I totally yelled at the cat today because she was annoying me while I attempted to take it easy (still sick). They've both been hell-bent on irritating me for two days. I don't think that I've come unglued like that with either cat before.
In one, I'm playing a rockshow (no surprise why that's on the brain--later). It's totally "this is your life," and people really come out of the woodwork for the occasion. I'm stressed out, and I wake up before our set even begins.
In another, my feline companions have taken up water skiing. They can totally talk, too. They have developed a powered water ski (a jet ski, sort of) with a light weight jet engine using composites and titanium and stuff. It's pretty bad ass.
Apparently, this "tumor" is exciting enough that they want to remove it. I got the call during yesterday's rock. I asked if this was a body part that I was going to miss and the doctor said "no." It needs to be done as soon as possible. I just need to do some schedule juggling with work and possibly rock. Completely freaking out about this.
Monkeypuss' operation went well. I pick her up tomorrow morning. The nitwit is up to her old tricks--talking to aliens and shit. It reminds me of why I got a second cat.
I've attempted to raise this kitty to be not okay with "outside". Today, she totally slippeed outside through an open window. Yowling to go out is her new cool thing. I might have to drown her in the bathtub for real (once I don something with long sleeves and leather).
the small cat apparently is not a fan of home alone.
outside of an unfortunate cellphone disaster (no phonebook no more), the treep was okay. the truck is cool. one of the high points of the trip was jose regaling me with tales of corpus christi back in the day:
"we used to go to the part of town that we called the nigger town." "i was maybe 13 or 14 years old." "no one said shit and there they give me beer and there was music and girls." "a lot of girls." "they used to call me the nigger fucker." "i never fucked a black girl."
certainly it's not the same if you're not in a "family restaurant" with a hard of hearing mexican diesel mechanic. it was hilarious, really.
Jose and I get to take a treep to pick up another truck in Illinois (Rangoon, as mahoney calls it--actually it's rantoul, IL--ought to be Indiana, really). Am I the only one that thinks that a Midwestern road trip in a strange vehicle in February is a bad idea? I suppose that it'll be no worse than the new jersey odyssey through the July 4th weekend. Weekends are best, because the weigh stations are mostly closed, so they won't be checking the (non-existent) logbook. Legally, 11 hours a day is the maximum for OTR drivers, but I prefer to do 15 or 16.
The truck is supposedly pretty sweet--a 2003 Sterling with a 16 yard NUWAY, a Benz motor (hinkey germans), an Allison tranny. It'll have AC and a radio. Whoot! This treep will be better than that last one. Any Jose teep should be memorable, with some Jose antiques, for sure. SALSA.
This means that Nitwit gets a vacation, and that Monkeypuss will be home alone. I'm a bit troubled by the travel since it means time away from my lady-friend (more about her another time).
