Today’s entry is mostly contrived because not much happened today. Mind you, that is a matter of interpretation. You decide, remembering that I have not seen what you wrote so I cannot return any favors.
Yes, and at least, it was a good week financially. This process takes time and I see that I am again beginning to suffer the problems of working for a living. Small issues that consume time blow up out of proportion and mistakes occur because one is always a little bit rushed. For example, remember that ice cube I dropped this morning and left it because I couldn’t find it? Where could it have gone? Ten minutes later when I slipped on my shoes . . .
[Missing picture - most of 2006 is missing pictures, okay?]
I am not in the habit of it, but I washed my car this morning. Note the picture of me and the hose, the important concept being that this is a shot you would probably not take spontaneously with an expensive camera.
No Florida day is complete without bumping into a complete loser. That spaced out dodo from the Thrift store walked into the computer shop this afternoon and recognized me instantly. Damn! Am I never to be rid of that klutz? I can’t figure out if he is particularly stupid or a result of that odd combination when mildly stupid people, who in their youth, smoke a lot of dope. I mean a lot of dope. Either way, he has it bad.
He reminds me of my brother. No matter how many times you catch him lying or prove him wrong, he will not knock it off. He thinks if he keeps running off at the mouth, his old lies and bullshit will be covered up by his new ones. He’ll walk right up to you while you are working and start talking as if you are doing nothing and what he has to say is more important. I swear he is not my brother even after what I tell you next.
Even worse, he keeps thinking if I don’t want to hear it, I am rejecting the truth that God has ordained him to spread. He walks into a computer shop and starts telling us how to get the Internet for free. (“All you gotta do is drive to Ft. Lauderdale.”) To give you a perspective, he nearly banged the door off the hinges because he couldn’t figure out the doorbell.
He actually heaved his shoulder into the door when it would not open. It took me fifteen minutes to tell him we are closing in ten minutes – he did not even get it when I had him outside on the sidewalk, got on my bike and rode away. I should have dipped back this evening to see if he was still there. I just know he is going to walk into the Thrift tomorrow.
The feedback says I was too harsh on the G, demanding that all tunes we play be acceptable to both musicians. Allow me to expand. First of all, I said musicians, not vocalists. I could care less what he sings and have reminded him many times that if I could sing I would fire his sorry ass for all the times he has let me down. The first thing I told him was that I spent the nine weeks he was in jail trying to hook up with another guitar player. If you are getting the impression this band with the G is not a democracy, gee, you are on the right track. I would like to see it become more democratic. The only reason he is not a total control freak is he lacks that caliber of personality.
My criteria are simple. First, the song must be a hit. No more B sides. Then ask yourself, can this music be dramatically arranged by a duo? To do that, it must have at least three interesting themes, which are vocals, guitar and bass. There a millions of tunes so it is not too much to ask that we pick the ones that shine for the team. The last musical question is involves making sure the tune does not drone. (I won’t explain that but figure it out. A lot of Eagles music tends to drone – very few people stop and listen to it all the way through, they turn back to their beer and start talking.)
I said [that was the] last musical question, not entertainment question. I will never ask the "last" entertainment question. I say pay attention to what the audience will make of the tune. Although this is way down his list, it is past the point at which the G operates although he appears to have no sense of what appeals to a crowd. Like many soloists, he will stick to the same stale set because it once worked. He does not [seem to] realize he has slowed all his tunes down and begun to take long breaks between songs to drag things out.
He has killed the moment on many of our stage appearances by taking a break or changing the mood at the wrong time. Up to now, he has been the sole authority on what music we play. That is not good enough any more. Listen carefully. Based on repeat gigs and tips received, he has done a supremely lousy job of it. He even has trouble admitting that his taste in music is not enough to drive the audience to get those twenty dollar bills into the tip jar.
My position is that if he wants me to play, we form a duo. I do not “stand in” at his convenience. We revamp the entire song list to the new standards because the only thing known for certain is that his methods do not work. My bands are audience-oriented, apparently a new concept around these parts.
I stayed up late running over the new tunes on the Alexis drum box. I even practiced singing “These Boots Are Made for Walking”, which is more of a chant. I can do it on key although it still sounds reedy. The point for me is that I’ve mildly gotten over the fear of singing I had. Before, I would not even sing in private. The progress is made because I find I am now concentrating on the words and tones instead of dread fear that I sound bad. Oh, I still sound bad indeed. Furthermore, the progress is rapid, each time I go over the tune, there is improvement beyond what I expected. Wish me luck.
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