September 5, 2023

Yesteryear
One year ago today: September 5, 2022, quaint English habits.
Five years ago today: September 5, 2018, 193 pounds.
Nine years ago today: September 5, 2014, Generation Zero salesmen.
Random years ago today: September 5, 2004, some average costs.

           Will today bring any adventure? If not, let’s go create some if only because we can. Besides, once you slow down like I’ve been trying to do the past 15 years, adventure is more like what to build in the back shed. Here is a great picture of the spline assembly before it is trimmed. This cut was unusually deep, if you examine the relative size of the pieces, you’ll see why. The spline is glued into place and thus must have enough purchase on the board jutting to the left. Yet no so much as to poke into the box interior where that just creates more work.

           That was JZ on the phone, moaning in pain that now I’ll “get all the good-looking blonde chicks”. What’s that all about? Well, it’s a tale from the trailer court that you’ve heard before, with my full realization that 99% of men will think I’m bullshitting. But JZ has at least two advantages. One of them is that by now he’s received DVDs that you don’t get to see. In this case, an excellent view of the weird but pretty lady side-boobing me at the club a week ago. Right in front of the whole crowd, but the majority of men who lack success in life are compelled to call me a liar on that. Well, JZ has seen the video.

           The second item is that he’s seen me first hand bring all the pretty women in the club over to our table. He’s still too hesitant to make that first move, but he has also seen me live playing in a band, and that’s the second set of videos you don’t get to view. The Prez and I playing a few classics, just bass and acoustic. What a sound, what a show, and JZ is convinced the blonde women will all jump my bones when they see this duo. It is a remarkable sound. Keep in mind JZ knows my hurdle isn’t meeting the women, it’s finding the good ones. And it’s basically been some 24 years since I’ve met anyone new that fit—and no, my standards are not too high.
           Which brings up another incident that will make my detractors howl. On Sunday after rehearsal, I stopped at a couple of the clubs to chat with the managers. When I got to the last, the owner himself was there. This made it easy to confirm we can play the 24th, it would be for tips, but at least that is something. We need that stage time, but I said howl. Well, there is a new barmaid and she took to me instantly. Good-looking dark brunette it was just one of those few where the sparks flew. But not for me, I had to stand back a bit from the flames.

           She’s from Texas, not too far from where I grew up. Slim, proportionate, I suppose maybe she’s just attracted by my manner, in that I don’t really look or act or talk or behave like the locals very much. Novelty attracts and I could see myself with something like that but my spider sense said hold back. Sure enough, one beer later walks in her youngest daughter and boyfriend. Let’s just say that was a deal-breaker. Steer clear, very clear.

           Here is the tray with a layer of walnut stain from the recycle yard. These boxes don’t stand up to close inspection but the stain makes them look okay. Yes, it is a deep box intended for a small set of jumper cables. But now, I’m not so sure. What do you think? My plan was to cut finger holes to lift this out. That’s pallet lumber and it looks good enough to fit a lid.
           Today is time for some band management, a field that is so obscure some who do it don’t realize they are at it. (My bands fail musicially, not from lack of good management.) For the moment, I’ll size up the competition from my desk. That involves looking at what is on-line, the Polk county entertainment magazine, and who advertises for what and where. There are very few big bands left and nothing new on the market. Same ads as five years ago, same people looking for the same people. I follow up only working bands because that is my competition. You always get the specialty bands who appear and then disappear. It’s humdrum, Sydney wants to start a metal band, Manuel seeks to form a salsa group, and Tyler wants to waste your time.
           Once more, my target area is the cluster of small clubs in the SW area of Winter Haven. All the remaining big bands, four or more members, all play around the lake. I see some ads for bands I’ve never heard of but I got ten bucks says if I walk in, I’ll know some of the members. It’s the smaller clubs, around a dozen of them and they are hard to get in. But that’s where management comes into play. It’s only time until you get yet another bank breakup at the last minute.

Picture of the day.
American junkyard.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.

           How do you like this siding? I like that overlap now that I understand what it’s for, I always thought before it was for weather proofing. It’s to keep the boards straight as well. At this time a series of events fell into place that swings all focus onto music. We have two positive responses from clubs and an inquiry from that big fancy tour group in Orlando, plus a note from a guy in Plant City we’ve met before. He’s too far away, but remember my zip code could have him thinking I live just east of Countyline. The clubs are the priority.

           The Pavilion is best for practice. It’s tips only but it always buys the gas and a beer or two on an otherwise nothing Sunday. I immediately contacted the Prez and ramped practice to twice a week starting tomorrow. He’s a bit stage shy. The Pavilion is the remedy, that is the most undemanding crowd who loves anything they can get. Depending on who is still alive these five and a half years later, I may still have them trained.
           Remind me, tomorrow at six. We are already rehearsing full set material, and it may be just two sets for now. I’m watching for a dozen telltale indicators that are created by mileage. You can’t rehearse solid stage hours but this is the next best thing. I believe part of the curve is that practice by itself cannot tell you how the other guy reacts on stage. I’ve met too many guitar players who are best at practicing and little else. I’ve put other matters on hold. Tonight I’ll make up the two set list after Gunsmoke. I do want to clear with the Pavilion people in person, not just by e-mail. Our sets, by the way, are an hour long, not 45 minutes.

           The local library has finally blocked GAB. Too back, morons should not be allowed to say what other people read or listen to. They’ve got an excuse for everything that implies of you want to listen to anything but leftoid propaganda, you’re racist. I’ll bet they sit around discussing how to twist everything. Funny, they are some of the most racist people around in that they hate White people. They are a freaky looking bunch for sure. The women are all hulking and masculine and the men, except for the bossman, are all embarrassingly effeminate.
           There is the rainwater depth that sunk the corner of my kitchen. This rule shows a pail by the door collected nearly six inches of rain. I’ve got the jack ready but before I start moving those joists, I must put in the electric conduit for the water heater. The old wiring is just tacked to lumber and otherwise exposed. I have lots of free piping from Tennessee which is much heavier duty than I need. I’m whooped already for the day but let me put in an hour and see how far we get. I’d rather be watching Gunsmoke already.

           I found a comfortable spot and mapped out the set lists. This is a task I’ve likely done 500 times in my life, knowing full well none of the lists will last on stage. Most guys put the lists together to see if they “have enough”. I’m more concerned with making sure the keys don’t clash and that each set opens with a tune that brings the audience back into “listening” mode. Oddly, it is so rare to find a guitar player who considers this important. It’s three sets of ten and part of my motive is to not have the band sitting around on break simply because it is break time. That’s like eating because it is noon.
           Finances and music. For all the talk otherwise, they do go together if only because putting on a show these days costs money. However, equipment is a sunk cost so the major out-of-pocket expense becomes the gasoline to haul over there and back. Gas is currently $3.79 per gallon which won’t change unless there is an election. COVID did a real bad number on live entertainment so I’m stepping back into a changed situation. No matter how I look at it, if you want to gig, you simply have to accept what these places are paying and that maxes out at around $150 for a solo. Why not compare to a duo? That’s my point. There aren’t any.

ADDENDUM
           Here’s an alert, more than 50 million views in a short time. Let me check this out, what world-shaking news can this be? I hope it isn’t an earthquake and that Trump is okay. Here we go. It’s a video on the anorexic-looking Emma Watson. One of those off-blonde millennial-grade actresses with split ends is taking off a Watson mask. It won’t play right on my equipment, meaning it was produced by an XYZer who doesn’t have a clue because the world began the day he was born the wrong gender. I’ll see if I can find it at the library, since Watson was such a precocious child actress unaware that she had already peaked. Even the very name Emma is so English from the word go.

Last Laugh