I've Never Been Home This Early After Playing A Show.

This one goes down as one of the best damn shows that we've played together. Peppered among the unsuspecting, inappropriately-dressed cougars, were some of our superfans (who've heard these damn songs enough times that they know what the mix is supposed to be). The superfans (something like the SuperFriends) said that the sound was great. As far as "monitors," it was way sweeter than a certain sandstone amphitheater that I can think of. Actually, it was just like rehearsal, except not in a boomy concrete room, and with freaked-out-looking watchers. We're often much better at rehearsal because we're comfortable. Shania gets to experience the best versions of everything.

Apparently (I played virtually the whole set with my eyes closed), a little girl made her way to the "stage," and was looking rather stunned, according to onlookers. I hope that it wasn't during the "fuck" songs. We've been trying with these last few sets to build up to "Stealth" and "Blood Trail" since every BLC + unsuspecting public is an experiment. Apparently, they had some truly terrible shows before I joined the band (the Ogden; the burrito place). I really want to play a chicken wire country bar (there's a term for that, but I can't think of it) with this band, as well as a real juke (we'll have to go to 'sippi for that).

I did, however, have one missed note. A dude was doing flash photography (odd since the lights were on), and it totally got me for a beat. I had one measure of bizarreness on "Stealth" when the hands were doing their own thing for whatever reason (I was thinking about this leg/foot/ankle pain). I got right back on it, and I don't feel that bad 'bout it since the rest of the set was damn good.

Andrew Warner is my favorite drummer to play with, period. After all this time (starting in 2002 with the OG-RC), we generally play pretty damn well together, but tonight was really really special for me. The rhythm section was on like donkey kong, and I think that the rest of the band grooved (far out, man) on that. I love that guy. I can't imagine playing better with anyone else. I do indeed use him to make it sound like I'm playing with power. He's probably my best musical buddy. It was a trascendental set, rhythmically, for me. I hope that he gets that. Somehow, we were completely on the same wavelength for the fills [our art (improvisation) is in the fill, a la Ringo]. I love that guy.

Great fun tonight, for sure. I'm so done.

Autumn Memories

The air reminds me of one of my fondest memories circa September 1977:

My very very pregnant mother stuck me on the back of her blue Columbia 3-speed (without a helmet). We rode to an open space (a park) at the end of our 'hood (Mom used to drag me around on her bike before she had two of us to haul around--the Columbia was replaced by a 1966 Malibu without seat belts--a bad ass car, really). I played (unsuccessfully, fell on my resilient face) on some sort of playground equipment (a jungle gym). There were children playing all around (annoying). I was thrilled to be hanging out with my mom. She had purchased a kite, a Gayla Baby Bat (dig that image from the package) . We assembled it on a big pink blanket that my mother had brought along. I couldn't run fast enough to make the kite fly. Just when I was about to give up, the wind picked up, and the kite soared high above us. We sat on the blanket. The kite tugged at my little hands.

I was happy. Please forgive the puerile writting style on this one. It's almost like a dream to me.
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Now playing: The Angels of Light - The Man with the Silver Tongue

Seven months, friends

1400-ish marked seven months since my seduction in the ceiling at the TC on the fax. My temporal tardiness this morning meant that I couldn't tell LRC how I was feeling. In truth, I had quite an oration planned for her. Instead it was "I'm a hour late...Talk to you later."

So lame. Didn't even tell her that I love her. I'm the worst BF ever.

I'll hold off on that speech until later. Some other time-marker.

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Now playing: Skinny Puppy - Morpheus Laughing

Lost And Found and lost again

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'm probably dying. Whoot.

Shattered, Friends

The Over Casters' song-writter/singer 'o doom/guitarist almighty, Kaptain K, has sustained serious injuries from a fall. If y'all know Kurt, give him a call/text/photo o' support.

I'll be in serious trouble because of that ghost photo that i took at last year's SP festival.

Also, it appears that our 'real' debut will be delayed because of his injuries. I'm not heart-broken about this development. I just want my friend to heel (I'm horrible), really. He's one of a handful of people that I love.