One year ago today: August 21, 2018, one year, no cart yet.
Five years ago today: August 21, 2014, the classic Argus DC1600.
Nine years ago today: August 21, 2010, you must lose everything first.
Random years ago today: August 21, xxxx, WIP
Rehearsal. That’s going to dominate today and tomorrow for the foreseeable. The phrase that comes to mind is, “Be careful what you ask for.” I was careful, very careful, and still got the feeling I should have tiptoed more lightly. The rehearsal was totally professional on a scale that most musicians I’ve known could not meet. Certainly not any of the guitarists I met in central Florida—and by coincidence, the rhythm (acoustic) player is from Lakeland. And [he] seems to have cleared out for the same reasons I’ve described often—people who’ve gotten nowhere will just not listen to reason. The local musicians are incredibly talented at what they do, but what they do is not compatible with what it takes to succeed in this business.
It will take some time to detail everything relevant, both good and no-so-good, and chances are matters will fast forward before I’m finished. Put it this way, I am plain not used to dealing with any level of real professionalism in Florida. With one or two exceptions, Florida musicianship is that third-world everybody in it for himself mentality. Nashville (the only part of Tennessee I know anything about) has learned the power of cooperation. At the rehearsal today, each player was able to describe and show the other passages and the other guy accepted it when it was right. Amazing. One or two examples will illustrate.
The piano player had this riff that was bang-on, but played the right hand too smoothly. Imagine my amazement when the bass player got on the keyboard and showed him a better sounding version with the right hand an octave lower. The piano man (same guy from the marina gig last month) graciously accepted the version and they carried on. Or when the piano man asked the guitarist to add a 7th to a minor chord to keep his harmony note in place. You cannot imagine the revolt this would cause in Florida. Can you even dream of a situation where the Hippie or Billie-Bill or Cowboy Mike or Fast Eddie stoops to taking advice from a lowly bass player?
I got news for them guys. The people today were talking the same “music code”, that when I tried it years ago in Florida, all I got was stunned, blank stares in return. I won’t go into detail, but if you know what a “12” and a “65” are, then you’d have enjoyed this practice session. I could not get the Florida big-shots to grasp the circle of fifths. What overall impressed me was that these people were all professionals. I’m used to a modicum of it in maybe one of the other players, but a whole room of it overwhelmed me. Put another way, I was right about one thing—to compete and get ahead in the trade, these guys have all learned to do it (and I’m careful with these words) not “my way” but the same way. The rules for doing it right are highly cross-platform.
I don’t say that meaning I have a winning musical formula. I mean that to put a band together successfully, and my definition of success does not involve winning contests or contracts, there are certain bad habits that must be undone to the point of obliteration. And 100% of what I got in Florida since 1999 were lunkheads who clung to those habits with commie fanaticism. Suddenly, in a wink, I’m in a room full of musicians who got to the same place by what looks like a different but equally difficult routes. Catch 22, I was not the bass player here, but that’s where the predictions I’ve been making the past two months come into sway. Pssst, I only have to be right 51% of the time.
The rehearsals are ideal by my standards. You learn your part and the time together is spent meshing it with the group. You are expected to change keys instantly, in stark contrast to people I know who can only play songs in one key. The song has been taken apart and is now being put back together as a group, not as a gathering of soloists. I watched some harmony techniques new to me. The bassist is a guitar player and although it shows in his playing, he is a serious student of the bass. He plays “guitar” bass the same as I sound “piano” bass. The notes are the same but there is a texture difference.
The lady singer is gone, they referred to her as “weak”. I was there for the music, but they talked band enough for me to pick up lots. There is a new vocalist auditioning, what I call chick singers, they call girl singers. The core of the band is the guitarist and the keyboardist, both the same from the marina gig. It turns out, like myself, they like house gigs, mainly because you are not humping equipment all the time. I gather they have recently lost a primo gig downtown and want to get back there. Like myself, they live 12 miles out of town.
Italian East Coast.
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They focused on the newer songs that appeared on the list just ten or so days ago. Material I’ve barely had time to listen to. I mention again their ability to play the other instruments. Their attention to detail matches mine, which will give me a good shot at playing at least some tunes by Labor Day. These guys have worked together before and it will require supreme effort for me to get past the number two slot. There’s always that chance something could go haywire and open up a chance.
Here’s the cigar box with the handles in place. I could not find any style of latch that would fit the front of the unit and placing the lid on top was asking for trouble without that latch. This is the most convenient way I’ve found yet to transport my prescriptions, so look closely. I solved the problem by putting the handles on the sides, where it is automatic to place the thumbs on the lid, keeping it secure.
I got the doggies outside for a lengthy afternoon spell in the sun. You see, they whine to go out, but if it’s too warm, they do the same to get back in. So once in a while I keep them out there long enough to appreciate the A/C. Today three hours. I always heard that dogs have to lie in the sun to get the right vitamins and need the ultraviolet exposure to keep their hides healthy. At least that was the conventional farm wisdom, most of which I don’t abide by.
ADDENDUM
And why is this half-baked disclaimer there in the first place? Did the company producing the milk just decide to spend the extra money printing labels? It tells us by law they are required to print it. And right there, you’ve got all the significant difference you need to avoid hormone-injected cows.
