One year ago today: April 20, 2017, an ingenious device.
Five years ago today: April 20, 2013, downtown Steinhatchee.
Nine years ago today: April 20, 2009, that’s my dent.
Random years ago today: April 20, 2007, checking out the Everglades.
[Author’s note: this blog has been through a lot and seen a lot of changes. Thus, I interchangeably refer to recorded items as records, tapes, films, pictures, cassettes, and so on. This is not due to being unaware of the proper terminology, that is discs, CDs, etc. It is because I’m equally familiar with all formats and am more concerned with the usage of the soundtracks than the medium. Hence, I’ll refer to music by whatever is the handiest word that pops to mind.]
Here I’m repairing water damage from the old A/C. The water dripped into the wood, which is now repaired with automotive bondo. There are still patches to complete once the glue dries. Maybe tomorrow, I also did a lot of the more complicated drywall pieces with their cutout that I’ve resigned myself to just never getting right. The north wall is done and partially mudded.
An hour in the coffee shop convinces me all over again that I did the right thing not leaping into the same things in life as most people. Nope, I didn’t get married the day after high school, or college. I did have a mortgage when I was 21 that took ten years to pay off. And taught me never to have another. Anyhow, I’m there listening to people as I work the crossword. They make me so glad my hobby is reading and that I still haven’t seen most movies. I don’t go to restaurants to celebrate by stuffing my face. I cannot name you the day or time of a single television broadcast. It’s amazing to hear what so many people have got themselves into. I usually rotate my coffee shops and the new Starbucks has not opened yet. What’s the delay up there, people?
I’ve slowed down on the book “The Coffee Trader”. It starts off okay, but soon settles into that worn-out theme of how the Jews are persecuted. By third chapter, that’s what the book is about. How when Jews suffer, it is so much worse than ordinary. It seems to me they are trying to fix the wrong problem. Anyway, the constant whine means I may not finish that book. It’s about a Jew who runs away from Portugal during the Inquisition. That’s a tough period in history, but I’ll take this opportunity to describe what the Jews bring on themselves.
When the Moors were kicked out of Spain, the non-Catholics (of all kinds, not just the Jews) were given the option of leaving or converting to Christianity. Many of the Jews who stayed, called New Christians, or Converts, agreed between themselves to openly profess Christianity, but to privately change nothing. The others who did not leave, such as the Gypsies and Moors actually did convert and did not form secret societies or anything of the sort. Thus, once again it looks as if the Jews are being persecuted, but in reality the Inquisitors were seeking out people disobeying the law. Other societies have had varying results dealing with the same problem with religious sects operating as a law unto themselves. I’m taking not sides on that one.
The plot concerns a Jew who is offered a deal to import a new mud-like drink called “coffee”. Under Jewish law, they may not trade with Gentiles, but are allowed to enter into business partnerships with them. The reader is supposed to understand how this is a major struggle, the more so because not only is the partner white, a tavern owner, rich, but also a female. She just does not understand basic Hebrew law of the role of women in the world. She keeps acting as if she is the senior partner, the arrogant cow is making Avraham look bad. If I read more of this book, it will just be in small bits as much as I can tolerate at a time.
The one that gave enough trouble to get me searching was that D7sus. Here’s what it looks like and it doesn’t make sense to me. Anyway, give the new tune a replay from the past if you remember it. But listen to the guitar work. What’s stalling me is there are two spots where the bass plays a different bass line, a long syncopated one-note passage. The guitar plays different chords that fit into the bass line, but because of my weak understanding of guitar patterns, it doesn’t jive. Don’t ask me to learn it either. I’m just after that telltale note. That’s what I’m looking for, and of course, there’s a hundred videos and lessons that cover the easy parts but nothing on the parts you can’t get on your own.
Lake Michigan.
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Call it the birdie playground. The mist is visible. It’s an amazing view from the front bedroom. In around a week, an entire micro-ecosystem evolved around this spray. The different bird species have their times to visit and the squirrels have been seen on the rim, although I’ve never seen them drink or dunk. The northern cardinal family seems down to three individuals with this birdbath as the central part of their activity. They splash the water around the area. They are also messy eaters.
The woodpeckers drop by as well, but they are only seen. If you hear them, it is way off in the distance. And they do not get along with the cardinals. Did I mention the cardinals have established a patrol perimeter that circumnavigates my house. There are three bushes on the south side on the neighbor’s property. You notice because the birds always fly counter-clockwise around the house. They must be living in the big tree on the northeast corner of my property. That thing is well over a hundred feet high. Which reminds me, I have to trim back the limbs that are over top of my roof. And before hurricane season.
Next I bought a used book on kitchen renovating ideas. Um, wrong book. If you’ve got $1,900 to spend just on the sink, it might be for you. I was thinking like maybe some new cupboard ideas and instead I got listings for $40,000 makeover jobs. Enough of that, I took the scooter to the thrift and spent an hour there. By luck I found a book that answered a question. Years ago, I came across some plans for a wooden platform which intrigued me. The instructions were in a language I could not recognize. I concluded the frame must be for drying fish or something.
Blog rules say report anything unusual. Okay. Over the years anyone who got used to the paste smell of drywall mud might wonder what they’ve changed. It how has a different aroma, not unlike almond butter. It’s not an edible or sweet small, it is still has an industrial tang to it. Not unpleasant mind you, it is actually a perky scent to have around when working with glue or paint.
A quiet evening at home, many more to come I hope when I finish that second bedroom. The rest of the place can wait, although I would like to get started on that kitchen. To ensure the evening was relaxful, I didn’t unload the music gear from the car. Did I just coin a word? Relaxful. Well, there ought to be a word like that so this one will do. Nope, world, it was an evening at home baking chicken for the week, and I threw a pork roast in there as well.
Diet? You can have all the baked chicken you want. All the spices you want. But that’s it. No sauces, no gravy. For breakfast, you can have oat bran and soy milk. Trust me, you get used to it. My weight hovers at 188.8, unchanged in the past ten days. I have definitely developed a resistance to the diet pills.
ADDENDUM
Here’s another ingenious device. A DIY printing press. I’ve had time to review the videos and there’s a big pro-blem-oh. It’s clear now that once we started gigging, my guitarist quit putting in the long hours needed to get things right. This is yet another way gigging can boomerang. They think stage work is a substitute for practice. It isn’t. You have to take apart what went wrong on stage and carefully go over it at home until you iron out the rough spots. That is not happening.
And I know from experience what causes this. The weakest band member is the one who isn’t learning. On stage, he does badly enough that gradually the rest of the band starts to adapt to playing what sounds least wrong to his performance. Does he notice this? Absolutely not, as far as he’s concerned the band is getting better and better and so is he. Yep, they are finally learning to play things the right way. But on stage, I’m unaffected by that. I play what was rehearsed and yes, it makes mistakes stand out. Keep in mind, however, that it is not me that is making them stand out. I can easily prove I’m playing the notes as rehearsed.
So, what to do? Rehearsing is not working. Gigging is not working. I have a Plan B for this situation. The big picture is I am playing out and doing a personal good job of it. The small picture is this band is never going to get out of the bush league as long as my guitar player refuses to sing, keeps comping, and demonstrates an inability to chord during instrumental breaks. The hundred hours still stands, but I will be watching for opportunities now. If this continues it is only a matter of time until I meet someone who is willing and able to do the work.
As for the singing, I want somebody who can do at least 15 songs. I’ve experienced before two situations. One is where people hear me sing and don’t allow me to. The other is after they hear me sing, they don’t want to. Thus, I’ve never heard anyone sing harmony along with me, and don’t know if it would throw me. I imagine it would as I am barely able to keep on the melody myself.
As I go over those recordings, which takes a bunch of time, I find myself in a situation that is all to common for me. Gigging out in a bad band can turn away musicians who might otherwise be candidates. Unless the present situation is resolved, this band will never play anywhere worthwhile, which further slows down my quest for a good player. In the end, being out there makes for better chances than otherwise, so I will stick with it for a while. In my musical career as in my younger life, there never was a calm before the storm.
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