This is the last post of the year.
Technically I'm cheating, since I am writing most of it on 1/1/2011
Whatever. I make the rules.
What a ride it's been, mortality starting to show more than ever.
Morality showing less than I ever thought possible.
Not that I don't feel moral, I just don't think others can see it.
Something to work on next year I guess.
So I wrap the year with a number of regrets, a bunch of apologies due, a bundle of debts owed, and a collection of stolen kisses.
The year flew by without hesitation- I misplaced the entire summer somewhere.
This now ties my record blogging year. Nothing spectacular, only 48. But as I read back through the year I realize how far I've traveled.
Thanks everyone for everything.
Sorry everyone for my weakness and inconsistency.
Cheers to next year and many more.
~P
Friday, December 31, 2010
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Another year-end list
2010, the most total cities I've ever visited/worked.
***My company did far more events than this, these are just the cities in which I was present.
Ranked: City (# of visits)
Vegas (1)
Chicago (1)
Atlanta (1)
Orlando (1)
DC (1)
Seattle (1)
Portland (1)
Minneapolis (1)
Boston (1)
Dallas (1)
Tucson (1)
Denver(1)
Toronto (1)
NYC (2)
Park City (5)
LA/OC (6)
San Francisco/San Jose/Bay Area (7)
The irony of this list is that most of these are shorter engagements, meaning that in the olden days I would have gone into a city for 4-18 days, now I'm there for 2-3 and then moving on. The longest engagement I had this year was Tucson in July. Second longest was Vegas in January.
By the way, I did do 9 shows in Salt Lake this year, so it's the winner, but not really, since I sleep in my own bed for those...
***My company did far more events than this, these are just the cities in which I was present.
Ranked: City (# of visits)
Vegas (1)
Chicago (1)
Atlanta (1)
Orlando (1)
DC (1)
Seattle (1)
Portland (1)
Minneapolis (1)
Boston (1)
Dallas (1)
Tucson (1)
Denver(1)
Toronto (1)
NYC (2)
Park City (5)
LA/OC (6)
San Francisco/San Jose/Bay Area (7)
The irony of this list is that most of these are shorter engagements, meaning that in the olden days I would have gone into a city for 4-18 days, now I'm there for 2-3 and then moving on. The longest engagement I had this year was Tucson in July. Second longest was Vegas in January.
By the way, I did do 9 shows in Salt Lake this year, so it's the winner, but not really, since I sleep in my own bed for those...
Year Closure
Gotta wrap this year up with a few lists:
Top 5 personal events:
5) James (the band) live at The Complex, SLC 10-5-2010
4) Paul McCartney at Rio Tinto, SLC 7-13-2010
3) Band of Horses live at In The Venue, SLC 9-28-2010
2) Peter Hook/The Light live at the Doug Fir, Portland 12-9-2010
1) Brian Wilson live at Promontory, Park City 7-3-2010
Bottom 5:
5) Missed the Arcade Fire tour
4) LCD Soundsystem canceled
3) Didn't see the Eels show due to attending a funeral 10-6-2010
2) Bono falls off his bike and breaks his back, canceling the US tour
1) James (the friend) died
One track mind?
Top 5 personal events:
5) James (the band) live at The Complex, SLC 10-5-2010
4) Paul McCartney at Rio Tinto, SLC 7-13-2010
3) Band of Horses live at In The Venue, SLC 9-28-2010
2) Peter Hook/The Light live at the Doug Fir, Portland 12-9-2010
1) Brian Wilson live at Promontory, Park City 7-3-2010
Bottom 5:
5) Missed the Arcade Fire tour
4) LCD Soundsystem canceled
3) Didn't see the Eels show due to attending a funeral 10-6-2010
2) Bono falls off his bike and breaks his back, canceling the US tour
1) James (the friend) died
One track mind?
Friday, December 17, 2010
Gutted
I awakened this morning to a horrible emptiness in my soul. Not knowing what was going on, I wandered around the house for a minute. Checked in on the email, the Facebook. Randomly, typed in the following URL: www.ksl.com
Breaking news: Provo Tabernacle on fire. I'm suddenly really sad- I've spent hundreds of days in this building. Between the twice annual stake conferences of my childhood and the hundreds of productions I have done- Concerts, plays, meetings, video shoots, First Night, etcetcetc.
My favorite part of the place was the super narrow super steep spiral staircases leading up into the attic. Yes I've been up there. All sweet old wood trussing and musty smelling. There was a corner up there with lots of dates and initials, old programs and people's tributes to the old place. I have to admit, I wrote my name onto a beam. If you find the inscription "PFJ 1994" or such on any of the debris, don't be surprised.
I arrived on scene this morning to take a couple photos.
A minute later, I heard the most nauseating sound I've ever heard, it sounded like a punch to the stomach, but amplified 1,000,000x. The sound that 20,000 pounds of shingles, wood, bricks and stained glass makes as it caves inward and falls to the floor. Crunching, creaking, groaning.
Suddenly I realize that the smoke billowing upward isn't steam, nor is it the carbon emissions of the combustion of wood, it's the screaming destruction of the millions of memories that this place held.
The memories that once were part of a historical walking tour are now nothing more than the anecdotal stories of old people. And I'm one of the old people. So are my children.
Yesterday, I was in the building and the building spoke to me. As I walked out the door the door crashed into me, reminding me of all the other times I had been in the place. Reminding me that we went way way back. And saying goodbye.
This morning I mourn for the ProTab and for the door that I had to watch burn.
Breaking news: Provo Tabernacle on fire. I'm suddenly really sad- I've spent hundreds of days in this building. Between the twice annual stake conferences of my childhood and the hundreds of productions I have done- Concerts, plays, meetings, video shoots, First Night, etcetcetc.
My favorite part of the place was the super narrow super steep spiral staircases leading up into the attic. Yes I've been up there. All sweet old wood trussing and musty smelling. There was a corner up there with lots of dates and initials, old programs and people's tributes to the old place. I have to admit, I wrote my name onto a beam. If you find the inscription "PFJ 1994" or such on any of the debris, don't be surprised.
I arrived on scene this morning to take a couple photos.
A minute later, I heard the most nauseating sound I've ever heard, it sounded like a punch to the stomach, but amplified 1,000,000x. The sound that 20,000 pounds of shingles, wood, bricks and stained glass makes as it caves inward and falls to the floor. Crunching, creaking, groaning.
Suddenly I realize that the smoke billowing upward isn't steam, nor is it the carbon emissions of the combustion of wood, it's the screaming destruction of the millions of memories that this place held.
The memories that once were part of a historical walking tour are now nothing more than the anecdotal stories of old people. And I'm one of the old people. So are my children.
Yesterday, I was in the building and the building spoke to me. As I walked out the door the door crashed into me, reminding me of all the other times I had been in the place. Reminding me that we went way way back. And saying goodbye.
This morning I mourn for the ProTab and for the door that I had to watch burn.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Happy Birthday to Me
I'm old.
My present was good.
A trip to one of my favorite cities to see one of my favorite bands (well, part of it- the others can't be bothered to join up. The drummer is crazy, the guitarist is lazy and the original singer is hanging around the kitchen somewhere.)
So it's "Peter Hook does Joy Division" night.
A couple things: Hooky sings the songs better than Bernard Sumner does, they suit his voice better. JD never played in the US. It's the best you're going to get.
And it was good.
Solid renditions of songs that have been such a force in my life. Truly transcendent.
A review.
The venue is a combo gig venue/hotel/diner/salon/tattoo parlor/sex toy shop. All the things a person could need for a night on the town.
We bumped into the band in the diner prior to the show, they even moved us from our table to take it for their larger group.
I nearly shat myself as I sat myself in the next booth.
I'm no psycho stalker, so I steered clear as they were chowing down and carrying on like only rockers and roadies can do.
Then the show. I figured that we could have met the band afterward, but it was really late and we were both exhausted. Bedtime.
In the morning of my celebration of the anniversary of my birth, we stumbled down to the diner to get some grub. Holy schniekes!!!! There they were again. Hooky was absent, but his band and crew were hanging out, eating some American style brekky and prepping for the ride out to the airport.
I look and see Mr. Hook acting as his own road manager, sorting out hotel rooms and calling taxis. I gain a large amount of testicular fortitude and wade right through the bunch of them, thanking them for visiting (not my town, but whatever) and complimenting the show. They thank me back. Hook wanders by and thanks me for coming, I wish him safe travels and a good show in San Francisco. He growls "It will be a short show, I seem to have lost me voice in Portland" Pats me on the shoulder, picks up his bass guitar and suitcase. Jumps in a taxi and rolls away.
I'm not usually star-struck, but this was just cool. Really really cool.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Thx
Intro
Today's one of the days that people feel compelled to express their thanks and their affection for their friends, family, pets, great jobs, blu-ray players, etc.
I'll join in the chorus of that dialogue
"We get to carry each other"
I feel personally responsible for the well-being of those around me. Not because I have to be, but because I choose it. I welcome the responsibility.
I've failed in this far too many times, most significantly this year. There have been times that I was so busy celebrating my own success that I couldn't see people around me struggling.
This will haunt me until the end of my life. I find it completely unacceptable to have people in a bad state while others are doing well. It is the responsibility of all people to help. To give whatever they can. To offer a hand to those around them that might be having a difficult time.
My resolve has been to step up my awareness of people, to stop worrying so much about my own problems (which honestly are quite insignificant) and fine the people around me that have needs that I may be able to help with.
There have been times that I've needed the same thing and I hope that if I ever get there again that my support network holds my hand through it as they have before.
Outro
My personal shortcomings are based around my unwillingness to be manipulated by my family. I've chosen a path through life that they don't agree with- and from time to time I feel like they make me a project. I don't like to feel like people are coming at me trying to 'fix' things.
Well here's part of the issue- I don't think I'm broken. Different? Yes. Dysfunctional? Not at all.
I think that my life is turning out pretty well and don't need someone telling me that I'm wrong. I don't need anybody critiquing me on my choices- believe me, if it needs critiquing, I am the harshest critic- I do nothing impulsively, I consider all possible actions and reactions for a long time before I .
So I appeal to my family- please understand that we are doing pretty well here. Nothing needs to be fixed. Thanks for your concern, but your efforts are going to do nothing but cause friction. Please back off and let us do what we are doing.
Happy Holidays Everyone.
If you need anything, please let me know.
Please don't be alone.
If we must be miserable from time to time, at least let us be that way together.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Lying Liars and the Lies they Lie
There are two mistruths I regret telling my kids:
1) I taught them at a young age that sesame seeds grew in the ground, and could be planted just like any other crop. A couple of incidents arose from this: Jon, my youngest once took a handful of the sesame seeds off his hamburger bun out into the yard, dug a little hole and planted them. I think he watered their little dirt grave daily for 3 months before he gave up on them. (he was crushed) The other incident involved the kids eating themselves sick on food and attributing the bellyaches to the sesame plants growing in their stomachs.
Lie #2: Where we live, there are medical helicopters that fly over about 3 times a week to a common crash site in Spanish Fork Canyon. I once told the kids to not stand under the choppers since there was blood leaking out. Since then, they go out of their way to duck and run whenever one of the red and white whirlybirds comes by.
1) I taught them at a young age that sesame seeds grew in the ground, and could be planted just like any other crop. A couple of incidents arose from this: Jon, my youngest once took a handful of the sesame seeds off his hamburger bun out into the yard, dug a little hole and planted them. I think he watered their little dirt grave daily for 3 months before he gave up on them. (he was crushed) The other incident involved the kids eating themselves sick on food and attributing the bellyaches to the sesame plants growing in their stomachs.
Lie #2: Where we live, there are medical helicopters that fly over about 3 times a week to a common crash site in Spanish Fork Canyon. I once told the kids to not stand under the choppers since there was blood leaking out. Since then, they go out of their way to duck and run whenever one of the red and white whirlybirds comes by.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
So....
...you remember that really sad thing that happened that one time?
I am still really sad about it.
I feel guilt about it.
I am angry about it.
I have a lot of unresolved issues with it.
I am consumed by my thoughts about it.
I doubt that I'm ever going to get over it.
I am still really sad about it.
I feel guilt about it.
I am angry about it.
I have a lot of unresolved issues with it.
I am consumed by my thoughts about it.
I doubt that I'm ever going to get over it.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
...is such a funny guy...
I discovered early in life, when on the losing end of a couple of lady-hunting expeditions, that women seem to really like a 'funny guy.'
There's some code in the female secret language that says 'you're funny- may I offer up my soul and my carnal delights to you?'
So I set out to become the funny guy.
The problem is this- I'm naturally the most serious guy in a room. Brooding, contemplative, intense, aloof even.
A quest of many years and tons of practice have given me the skills to be funny when necessary. But I'm still trying to be so serious on the inside- a difficult balance for sure.
Let me set one thing straight- I'm not trying to get women to open up their loins for me, this is merely a defense mechanism against the dirtbags that would use their humor, charm and wit to get a lady to behave in an unladylike fashion.
It sure does get tiring though- being both the most serious guy in the room and the most funniest.....
There's some code in the female secret language that says 'you're funny- may I offer up my soul and my carnal delights to you?'
So I set out to become the funny guy.
The problem is this- I'm naturally the most serious guy in a room. Brooding, contemplative, intense, aloof even.
A quest of many years and tons of practice have given me the skills to be funny when necessary. But I'm still trying to be so serious on the inside- a difficult balance for sure.
Let me set one thing straight- I'm not trying to get women to open up their loins for me, this is merely a defense mechanism against the dirtbags that would use their humor, charm and wit to get a lady to behave in an unladylike fashion.
It sure does get tiring though- being both the most serious guy in the room and the most funniest.....
Sunday, October 31, 2010
I'm glad that is finally over
A very eventful month, to say the least.
I am strangely tuned, perked up at the coming life experiences. I'm not sure what these experiences are going to hold for me. I don't even know what these experiences are going to be.
When one loses a friend, it is painful. I've lost plenty under many different circumstances.
Somehow losing James has been more pointedly painful than anyone before. Probably because he was more of a peer than anyone I've lost before. I see my reflection in him and his influence is everywhere on all things I see and do.
I think that the ultimate result of this is yet to be determined, there are too many things happening and still unresolved in the healing process to know how it will end..
Maybe what bugs me is that I'm afraid that his fate could be mine, since our lives have been so parallel all these years. Somewhat divergent lately, but parallel nevertheless.
Maybe I don't want anyone to ever feel like this ever again. What can I do to help this never happen?
Maybe I wish that this whole thing had never happened and that we were back in the innocent time before.
For the first day or two I was overwhelmed, I am glad that I had things to do- had I been able to sit around and contemplate what was going on I probably would have been really sad and dysfunctionally upset. I still unfortunately had too much solo time and was alone too much- this caused me to go through many stages of grief and mourning- all of which are healthy- I just wish I never had to do this.
After the first couple days, we all did the viewing/funeral thing. It was a very cleansing experience- it felt so good to have a chance to see and mourn with all my friends and family. There were so many moving and powerful experiences that I couldn't possibly ever explain or articulate what they were. You're going to have to believe me. Or perhaps you were there and know what I'm talking about.
Since the funeral, things have gradually moved back toward normal. I still feel a constant aching and a sense of loss, the emptiness isn't going away. It's a little bit better, but I think about it all day every day. Maybe I should develop an addiction or habit to fill the hole.
I think that the heaviness of the first few days of the month weighed over the rest of things, which were overall quite positive and productive.
I have had success and productivity at work, the family is holding together and growing. Some exciting business prospects have appeared recently- this really excites me.
Yet all the relative goodness is balanced out by the events of the first few days of October. The month has been a neutral month at best.
Moving on, moving forward. Looking to the horizon for answers.
I am strangely tuned, perked up at the coming life experiences. I'm not sure what these experiences are going to hold for me. I don't even know what these experiences are going to be.
When one loses a friend, it is painful. I've lost plenty under many different circumstances.
Somehow losing James has been more pointedly painful than anyone before. Probably because he was more of a peer than anyone I've lost before. I see my reflection in him and his influence is everywhere on all things I see and do.
I think that the ultimate result of this is yet to be determined, there are too many things happening and still unresolved in the healing process to know how it will end..
Maybe what bugs me is that I'm afraid that his fate could be mine, since our lives have been so parallel all these years. Somewhat divergent lately, but parallel nevertheless.
Maybe I don't want anyone to ever feel like this ever again. What can I do to help this never happen?
Maybe I wish that this whole thing had never happened and that we were back in the innocent time before.
For the first day or two I was overwhelmed, I am glad that I had things to do- had I been able to sit around and contemplate what was going on I probably would have been really sad and dysfunctionally upset. I still unfortunately had too much solo time and was alone too much- this caused me to go through many stages of grief and mourning- all of which are healthy- I just wish I never had to do this.
After the first couple days, we all did the viewing/funeral thing. It was a very cleansing experience- it felt so good to have a chance to see and mourn with all my friends and family. There were so many moving and powerful experiences that I couldn't possibly ever explain or articulate what they were. You're going to have to believe me. Or perhaps you were there and know what I'm talking about.
Since the funeral, things have gradually moved back toward normal. I still feel a constant aching and a sense of loss, the emptiness isn't going away. It's a little bit better, but I think about it all day every day. Maybe I should develop an addiction or habit to fill the hole.
I think that the heaviness of the first few days of the month weighed over the rest of things, which were overall quite positive and productive.
I have had success and productivity at work, the family is holding together and growing. Some exciting business prospects have appeared recently- this really excites me.
Yet all the relative goodness is balanced out by the events of the first few days of October. The month has been a neutral month at best.
Moving on, moving forward. Looking to the horizon for answers.
Friday, October 8, 2010
A Correction
Dear Parents:
I have to correct you on something you said to me repeatedly during my adolescence (notably in March of 1988- don't ask how/why I remember.)
I was hanging out with a rag-tag bunch of guys (and girls) who were overly creative and underly productive. A misfit bunch of dreamers and weirdos. Interesting characters to be sure.
The supposition was that I would only have my friends for a short time and then they would work themselves into their own lives, leaving me dangling and alone.... I thought at the time it was a scare tactic designed to pressure me into the arms of the family and the church.
Well, here we are in 2010. 21 years since the big earthquake in San Francisco. I have traveled a fairly funky road. Things in my world aren't quite 'normal' according to the norms of society. But the one thing I notice is this:
I still have my friends. The same friends. Some of them for well over 25 years.
We spend time together, we talk on the phone.
We travel together.
Our spouses are friends.
Our children are friends.
I have no hesitation entrusting my children to my friends. They feel the same about me.
My friends are authorized to check my kids out of school.
My children are encouraged to talk to my adult friends as if they are peers or siblings.
My friends know how to get into my house if they need something.
I know the same about them. I've never raided their cookie stash, but it is comforting that I could. Being cookieless is a dismal state. (stay out of my cookies, Lester)
My friends and I have good relationships with each others extended families. We socialize and fraternize with them.
I have handed my newborn children to my friends, and they have reciprocated.
In recent developments, I am carrying my friends to their graves, and in due time, it will be my turn. My friends will bury me if I don't bury them first. I have no doubt of this.
The friendships I have with these people have been going on for nearly 30 years, yet I don't feel like we are even halfway there.
You see, we aren't all that strange after all. We are not quite the same as most people, but the thing that makes us different is that we found a tribe of like-minded individuals and we stuck with it.
I can't say I trust any family members the same way.
Perhaps this is because my family never trusted me to make these kind of decisions for myself.
I've realized recently that your actions were in fact scare tactics designed to drive me terrified and submissively into the arms of your reality. I apologize if you feel like I've rejected you, but I'd like to let you know that I'm continuing on down this road, me and my tribe.
I have to correct you on something you said to me repeatedly during my adolescence (notably in March of 1988- don't ask how/why I remember.)
I was hanging out with a rag-tag bunch of guys (and girls) who were overly creative and underly productive. A misfit bunch of dreamers and weirdos. Interesting characters to be sure.
The supposition was that I would only have my friends for a short time and then they would work themselves into their own lives, leaving me dangling and alone.... I thought at the time it was a scare tactic designed to pressure me into the arms of the family and the church.
Well, here we are in 2010. 21 years since the big earthquake in San Francisco. I have traveled a fairly funky road. Things in my world aren't quite 'normal' according to the norms of society. But the one thing I notice is this:
I still have my friends. The same friends. Some of them for well over 25 years.
We spend time together, we talk on the phone.
We travel together.
Our spouses are friends.
Our children are friends.
I have no hesitation entrusting my children to my friends. They feel the same about me.
My friends are authorized to check my kids out of school.
My children are encouraged to talk to my adult friends as if they are peers or siblings.
My friends know how to get into my house if they need something.
I know the same about them. I've never raided their cookie stash, but it is comforting that I could. Being cookieless is a dismal state. (stay out of my cookies, Lester)
My friends and I have good relationships with each others extended families. We socialize and fraternize with them.
I have handed my newborn children to my friends, and they have reciprocated.
In recent developments, I am carrying my friends to their graves, and in due time, it will be my turn. My friends will bury me if I don't bury them first. I have no doubt of this.
The friendships I have with these people have been going on for nearly 30 years, yet I don't feel like we are even halfway there.
You see, we aren't all that strange after all. We are not quite the same as most people, but the thing that makes us different is that we found a tribe of like-minded individuals and we stuck with it.
I can't say I trust any family members the same way.
Perhaps this is because my family never trusted me to make these kind of decisions for myself.
I've realized recently that your actions were in fact scare tactics designed to drive me terrified and submissively into the arms of your reality. I apologize if you feel like I've rejected you, but I'd like to let you know that I'm continuing on down this road, me and my tribe.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Say Something
anything...
You're as tight as a hunter's trap
Hidden well, what are you concealing
Poker face, carved in stone
Amongst friends, but all alone
Why do you hide
Say something, say something, anything
I've shown you everything
Give me a sign
Say something, say something, anything
Your silence is deafening
Pay me in kind
Take a drug to set you free
Strange fruit from a forbidden tree
You've got to come down soon
More than a drug is what I need
Need a change of scenery
Need a new life
Say something, say something anything
I've shown you everything
Give me a sign
Say something, say something, anything
Your silence is deafening
Pay me in kind
Say something
Come on now
Reach out
You're not alone in this world
You're not alone in this world
Show me your mind.
You're not alone in this world
You're not alone in this world
Show me your mind
Open your mind
Step outside of yourself
See something else
I'm open, wide open
I'm so open, wide open
I'm turning to you to get me through
Hoping to see something new for me
I'm open wide, open wondering
Have you swallowed everything
Pay me in kind
You're as tight as a hunter's trap
Hidden well, what are you concealing
Poker face, carved in stone
Amongst friends, but all alone
Why do you hide
Say something, say something, anything
I've shown you everything
Give me a sign
Say something, say something, anything
Your silence is deafening
Pay me in kind
Take a drug to set you free
Strange fruit from a forbidden tree
You've got to come down soon
More than a drug is what I need
Need a change of scenery
Need a new life
Say something, say something anything
I've shown you everything
Give me a sign
Say something, say something, anything
Your silence is deafening
Pay me in kind
Say something
Come on now
Reach out
You're not alone in this world
You're not alone in this world
Show me your mind.
You're not alone in this world
You're not alone in this world
Show me your mind
Open your mind
Step outside of yourself
See something else
I'm open, wide open
I'm so open, wide open
I'm turning to you to get me through
Hoping to see something new for me
I'm open wide, open wondering
Have you swallowed everything
Pay me in kind
Monday, October 4, 2010
For James
James- it's nice to talk to you, it has been too long.
How's life treating you? You look well. Things OK? You sure? You know if you ever need anything I'm here for you.
Are you thirsty? I could sure go for a chocolate milk right now- I've got lots of things to say and I hope this conversation takes a long time. Get two, it's always a bit better after you've carried it around in your pocket for a while.
Remember that time that we were walking around? The hundreds of night walks we went out that one year? All the dreams and things we were going to do?
Fishing boats to Europe, then walk until our boots wore out? You seemed to think that your Army surplus combat boots couldn't ever wear out, so you'd be walking Europe forever. Why didn't we do that? Girls. I blame the girls.
What about the day we fell asleep on the sidewalk waiting for the sunrise? Falling asleep just in time to miss it? A whole lot of waiting around for nothing I think you said. Your sense of efficiency is admirable.
My parents still talk about the time that you came over and acted out Khrushchev's "We Will Bury You" speech. That was classic stuff. Good effect with the shoe pounding on the table.
You still reading those fairy tales? I just don't get it. I mean, don't get me wrong, but I just don't see the appeal. You did get me to read The Hobbit. Cool stuff. I wish you had told me that there were 3 more books to finish the story. Sheesh- what a marathon. You tricked me.
James, you know what I think is the best thing about you? Your perceptive intuition. You have such a fine ability to look at someone and know exactly what they are about, to know what they need. Some people call it mind-reading, some call it mind-games. I just think it is just amazing. You taught me many years ago that it was possible to be sensitive to hints, feelings and body language. Your non-verbal communication skills are second to none and I thank you for sharing some of that with me.
Remember in the olden days when we used to listen to music and occasionally you'd get so excited by what you were hearing that you'd jump out of your chair and start exclaiming, singing and dancing? My favorite part of that was the aftermath: you would walk around for days with that song in the front of your mind and occasionally you'd burst out into song. Awesome.
Speaking of music, I've been listening to a band lately that reminds me of the old times- a bunch of memories tied to this one- it seems that you and I listened to these guys more than any of my other friends- I think it was because they were all out on missions at the time we saw something on MTV. Anyway- the band is called James- remember them? They have been doing some new stuff that's pretty good. Stuff that makes me jump out of my chair and start singing. They're coming to Salt Lake pretty soon, I have a ticket for you if you want to go.
Then there was the day I joined the Acappella Choir in 1988- you took me under your far more experienced wing and gave me the skills training necessary to sing that abominable high part in the Hallelujah Chorus. In fact, I vividly remember taking our newly polished skills on tour and doing a trio version of the whole Chorus for our families and you insisting that everyone stand up when it was performed. Who else was there? Was it Joel Hill? Anyway- thanks for helping me out and making me understand that no matter what I did I was never, ever going to hit those high notes without cheating.
Then there was the time(s) standing on the stage during "The King and I" and singing the lyrics to Bauhaus and Bunnymen songs to the tune of the monk's chant? Brower had no idea. Tee hee.
Lyrics- that's really the whole story isn't it? I am very open and vocal about my stunted communication skills, but am able to express with great accuracy by using lyrics. You taught me that.
And can you remember the first time we heard the 'new' Echo and the Bunnymen with the imposter singer? I don't think I have ever seen you look more disgusted.
My passion for all things black and white, for the contrasts and shadows, this love was refined and developed during the years we spent together, pontificating upon everything. What a great time we used to have. I resent that life has interjected her cruel time-sucking tentacles into our playtime.
I could go on all night. But you have somewhere to be. I have places to be.
Any chance we can do this again soon? I really enjoy your company and really could use the recreation from time to time.
I'm really bad at walking away at the end of a conversation- so I usually have to walk away in silence. But right now I don't want this to end. I can spare a bit more time.
You need to take off? OK. Cool.
Please let me know if you need anything. It's great to hang with you as always, and I mean that. Please let me know if I can do anything for you.
Take care.
Walking away. In silence.
really.
i swear i will shut up eventually.
How's life treating you? You look well. Things OK? You sure? You know if you ever need anything I'm here for you.
Are you thirsty? I could sure go for a chocolate milk right now- I've got lots of things to say and I hope this conversation takes a long time. Get two, it's always a bit better after you've carried it around in your pocket for a while.
Remember that time that we were walking around? The hundreds of night walks we went out that one year? All the dreams and things we were going to do?
Fishing boats to Europe, then walk until our boots wore out? You seemed to think that your Army surplus combat boots couldn't ever wear out, so you'd be walking Europe forever. Why didn't we do that? Girls. I blame the girls.
What about the day we fell asleep on the sidewalk waiting for the sunrise? Falling asleep just in time to miss it? A whole lot of waiting around for nothing I think you said. Your sense of efficiency is admirable.
My parents still talk about the time that you came over and acted out Khrushchev's "We Will Bury You" speech. That was classic stuff. Good effect with the shoe pounding on the table.
You still reading those fairy tales? I just don't get it. I mean, don't get me wrong, but I just don't see the appeal. You did get me to read The Hobbit. Cool stuff. I wish you had told me that there were 3 more books to finish the story. Sheesh- what a marathon. You tricked me.
James, you know what I think is the best thing about you? Your perceptive intuition. You have such a fine ability to look at someone and know exactly what they are about, to know what they need. Some people call it mind-reading, some call it mind-games. I just think it is just amazing. You taught me many years ago that it was possible to be sensitive to hints, feelings and body language. Your non-verbal communication skills are second to none and I thank you for sharing some of that with me.
Remember in the olden days when we used to listen to music and occasionally you'd get so excited by what you were hearing that you'd jump out of your chair and start exclaiming, singing and dancing? My favorite part of that was the aftermath: you would walk around for days with that song in the front of your mind and occasionally you'd burst out into song. Awesome.
Speaking of music, I've been listening to a band lately that reminds me of the old times- a bunch of memories tied to this one- it seems that you and I listened to these guys more than any of my other friends- I think it was because they were all out on missions at the time we saw something on MTV. Anyway- the band is called James- remember them? They have been doing some new stuff that's pretty good. Stuff that makes me jump out of my chair and start singing. They're coming to Salt Lake pretty soon, I have a ticket for you if you want to go.
Then there was the day I joined the Acappella Choir in 1988- you took me under your far more experienced wing and gave me the skills training necessary to sing that abominable high part in the Hallelujah Chorus. In fact, I vividly remember taking our newly polished skills on tour and doing a trio version of the whole Chorus for our families and you insisting that everyone stand up when it was performed. Who else was there? Was it Joel Hill? Anyway- thanks for helping me out and making me understand that no matter what I did I was never, ever going to hit those high notes without cheating.
Then there was the time(s) standing on the stage during "The King and I" and singing the lyrics to Bauhaus and Bunnymen songs to the tune of the monk's chant? Brower had no idea. Tee hee.
Lyrics- that's really the whole story isn't it? I am very open and vocal about my stunted communication skills, but am able to express with great accuracy by using lyrics. You taught me that.
And can you remember the first time we heard the 'new' Echo and the Bunnymen with the imposter singer? I don't think I have ever seen you look more disgusted.
My passion for all things black and white, for the contrasts and shadows, this love was refined and developed during the years we spent together, pontificating upon everything. What a great time we used to have. I resent that life has interjected her cruel time-sucking tentacles into our playtime.
I could go on all night. But you have somewhere to be. I have places to be.
Any chance we can do this again soon? I really enjoy your company and really could use the recreation from time to time.
I'm really bad at walking away at the end of a conversation- so I usually have to walk away in silence. But right now I don't want this to end. I can spare a bit more time.
You need to take off? OK. Cool.
Please let me know if you need anything. It's great to hang with you as always, and I mean that. Please let me know if I can do anything for you.
Take care.
Walking away. In silence.
really.
i swear i will shut up eventually.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Oh My
I'm a bit of a slacker.
Posting dehydration.
Creative drought.
Motivational wasteland.
More writing, less working.
Must...
Have...
#32, rice on both sides...
Marathon work month.
Wild times.
VIP seating a in a place with no (or very few) seats.
How did we get home? Speak of it no more.
Hi.
and Bye.
Posting dehydration.
Creative drought.
Motivational wasteland.
More writing, less working.
Must...
Have...
#32, rice on both sides...
Marathon work month.
Wild times.
VIP seating a in a place with no (or very few) seats.
How did we get home? Speak of it no more.
Hi.
and Bye.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Over the Hill
Sometimes a band releases a late-career album that is magnificent.
A strong coda featuring all the wisdom, technique and workings of the world they observe.
Much has been spoken of the freshness of a band's first album and the potential for a second album to be mediocre. Usually the third album is where a band gets their identity and morphs into whatever they are going to be for a long time.
Examples: Keane, Band of Horses, Arcade Fire, Radiohead
If the Arcade Fire never did another thing after "The Suburbs" they could go out into the world knowing that they had achieved a fantastic string of success, going out on a high note.
Recently the band James has released a fantastic double EP called The Night Before/The Morning After. The Night Before is mostly electric. Lush instrumentation with keyboards and much production. The Morning After is generally acoustic, featuring lots of acoustic guitars and slower songs.
This pair of records would serve as a perfect finale for one of the best bands of the 80s/90s to slam the door on their career. Remember "Laid"? a good song, a good album but nowhere near their best. (produced by Brian Eno though- that's pretty cool)
And then there's the bands that keep releasing albums when they are far beyond their creative peak: New Order, The Cure, U2 (yeah, I'm looking at you, Bono.)
I hope that every band can go out on as strong a note as James- The final song on their album is called 'All My Letters'
Slam the door, walk on with your heads held high. But not before you play Salt Lake City on October 5.
A strong coda featuring all the wisdom, technique and workings of the world they observe.
Much has been spoken of the freshness of a band's first album and the potential for a second album to be mediocre. Usually the third album is where a band gets their identity and morphs into whatever they are going to be for a long time.
Examples: Keane, Band of Horses, Arcade Fire, Radiohead
If the Arcade Fire never did another thing after "The Suburbs" they could go out into the world knowing that they had achieved a fantastic string of success, going out on a high note.
Recently the band James has released a fantastic double EP called The Night Before/The Morning After. The Night Before is mostly electric. Lush instrumentation with keyboards and much production. The Morning After is generally acoustic, featuring lots of acoustic guitars and slower songs.
This pair of records would serve as a perfect finale for one of the best bands of the 80s/90s to slam the door on their career. Remember "Laid"? a good song, a good album but nowhere near their best. (produced by Brian Eno though- that's pretty cool)
And then there's the bands that keep releasing albums when they are far beyond their creative peak: New Order, The Cure, U2 (yeah, I'm looking at you, Bono.)
I hope that every band can go out on as strong a note as James- The final song on their album is called 'All My Letters'
Slam the door, walk on with your heads held high. But not before you play Salt Lake City on October 5.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Oh Canada
Good Day everyone from the Great White North, eh.
Homeland of my little buddy Ink.
I'm here for 3 days. A lovely city, Toronto.
Here's some photodocumentation:
Lunch
Baggage
Sleepy Pillow
Customs Form
Customs Checkpoint
That's Canada Out There
Descending to the checkpoint, no cameras allowed
CN Tower and SkyDome
Flag, Union Station and Air Canada Center
Do you like Rush eh?
Coinage and Cabbage
Homeland of my little buddy Ink.
I'm here for 3 days. A lovely city, Toronto.
Here's some photodocumentation:
Lunch
Baggage
Sleepy Pillow
Customs Form
Customs Checkpoint
That's Canada Out There
Descending to the checkpoint, no cameras allowed
CN Tower and SkyDome
Flag, Union Station and Air Canada Center
Do you like Rush eh?
Coinage and Cabbage
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Survival of the Fittest
By request, I am going to pontificate on this for a while.
I think that most people are under the impression that Charles Darwin coined the phrase, but in fact he didn't. Darwin's phrase was 'Natural Selection.'
The 'Survival of the Fittest' was first uttered by British philosopher Herbert Spencer. Also contrary to popular opinion, he didn't intend it to refer to physical fitness at all.
I find this confusion a good representation of the near perpetual state of cluelessness I witness in many people. Wake up! Do a bit of research and enlighten yourself.
Stop going through life charging ahead as if you know all the answers. Slow down, back up, watch and learn for a few seconds. You'll likely notice that things aren't at all how you imagine them.
A paragraph applying the survival of the fittest to my life, as I'm only qualified to comment on my world, not on that of anyone else.
Now I'm not the fittest at anything, but I somehow survive. Why? As far as I can tell, I'm not particularly good at anything. Jack of all Trades, Master of None (as long as we are talking in huge cliches)
I can't run for crap, I am not nearly as strong as you might think. My strongest quality isn't my stubbornness, it's my skepticism.
So here I rumble through life, with all the grace of a charging water buffalo in Ikea. Always getting to my objective, but with a huge amount of collateral damage.
The only way I get what I want or need is by being crafty, by out thinking my opponents, running mental circles around a poorly armed adversary seems to be my forte.
So many people have settled for a life so mediocre that they aren't willing to advance themselves beyond their disastrous decisions and actually survive, therefore they don't.
And ultimately nobody survives. We're all worm food eventually. After a few minutes our legacy dims and the survivors move on.... as we fade behind the dustcloud of a never-ending forward motion.
I think that most people are under the impression that Charles Darwin coined the phrase, but in fact he didn't. Darwin's phrase was 'Natural Selection.'
The 'Survival of the Fittest' was first uttered by British philosopher Herbert Spencer. Also contrary to popular opinion, he didn't intend it to refer to physical fitness at all.
I find this confusion a good representation of the near perpetual state of cluelessness I witness in many people. Wake up! Do a bit of research and enlighten yourself.
Stop going through life charging ahead as if you know all the answers. Slow down, back up, watch and learn for a few seconds. You'll likely notice that things aren't at all how you imagine them.
A paragraph applying the survival of the fittest to my life, as I'm only qualified to comment on my world, not on that of anyone else.
Now I'm not the fittest at anything, but I somehow survive. Why? As far as I can tell, I'm not particularly good at anything. Jack of all Trades, Master of None (as long as we are talking in huge cliches)
I can't run for crap, I am not nearly as strong as you might think. My strongest quality isn't my stubbornness, it's my skepticism.
So here I rumble through life, with all the grace of a charging water buffalo in Ikea. Always getting to my objective, but with a huge amount of collateral damage.
The only way I get what I want or need is by being crafty, by out thinking my opponents, running mental circles around a poorly armed adversary seems to be my forte.
So many people have settled for a life so mediocre that they aren't willing to advance themselves beyond their disastrous decisions and actually survive, therefore they don't.
And ultimately nobody survives. We're all worm food eventually. After a few minutes our legacy dims and the survivors move on.... as we fade behind the dustcloud of a never-ending forward motion.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Overheard...
Words and phrases from a recent conversation between 2 like-minded individuals:
Note: these words are not in sequential order, rather they are posted in a semi-sorted manner.
Purify Yourself
Felt Her Presence
Cures Cancer
Activist Judges
The Healing Power of Herbs
Energy Obeys God's Laws
Silenced by the Federal Government
Nothing too crazy there, right? Just a couple of conservative network marketers trying to uplift each other.
Elder's Quorum President
Righteousness
Apostles
In the Temple they teach...
Adam-Ondi-Ahman
The Perfect Teachings of the Prophets
Christ
Bishop
Satan's Plan
OK. A couple of LDS conservative marketers giving each other the winky winky "you can trust me" speech.
Headed for Hell
I'll Kick his Ass
Shit
Damnit
Asshole
Stupid Fucker
Bullshit
Note: these words are not in sequential order, rather they are posted in a semi-sorted manner.
Purify Yourself
Felt Her Presence
Cures Cancer
Activist Judges
The Healing Power of Herbs
Energy Obeys God's Laws
Silenced by the Federal Government
Nothing too crazy there, right? Just a couple of conservative network marketers trying to uplift each other.
Elder's Quorum President
Righteousness
Apostles
In the Temple they teach...
Adam-Ondi-Ahman
The Perfect Teachings of the Prophets
Christ
Bishop
Satan's Plan
OK. A couple of LDS conservative marketers giving each other the winky winky "you can trust me" speech.
Headed for Hell
I'll Kick his Ass
Shit
Damnit
Asshole
Stupid Fucker
Bullshit
Monday, August 23, 2010
Class Participation Time
What should my next blog post be about?
I will take suggestions and at least the first 100 will be strongly considered for publication.
Thank you for your support.
(hoping that someone doesn't want me to expound on feminine hygiene products or similar subjects which I know nothing about)
I will take suggestions and at least the first 100 will be strongly considered for publication.
Thank you for your support.
(hoping that someone doesn't want me to expound on feminine hygiene products or similar subjects which I know nothing about)
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Big Parades
Went to do a show for a good friend the other day- He is a local folk/rock musician who has enjoyed a fair amount of success- Over 300,000 albums sold and hundreds of sold-out and near-capacity concerts in nearly every state and several foreign countries.
I've been doing this gentleman's shows for over 15 years now, in every capacity you can imagine- Sound Guy, Light Guy, Stage Manager, Catering Guy, Gopher, Security, Driver, Electrician, CAD Artist, Nanny, Scenic Designer, Bodyguard, Roommate, etc.
Well the other day I contacted him and let him know that I was available and interested in helping out with his big summer show- a flashback-type show, with the playing of his complete first album and most of the second. This is the era of his career that I was around to experience and I really like this music.
He gladly accepted my offer of assistance. I was working for dinner, and maybe a little bit of merchandise- although I have it all already, don't need any more.
I went with no expectations, but it did produce a bit of apprehension, since some of the band members were guys from the old days who I hadn't seen in many years.
Things went well, one of the best shows I've ever seen him play. And I've seen hundreds. Really. Literally hundreds. This was fantastic.
A couple days after the show, he sent me a note thanking me for my help. He's very gracious and friendly, and it was nice to have the appreciation.
Here's the email I wrote to send him in reply:
Pete-
Thanks for the message.
Once I heard about the retro-show, I was interested in helping out.
My schedule these days doesn't allow for as much playtime as it used to, but it's nice to squeeze it in when I can. I am always on the hunt for a good night of entertainment- and honestly, that's all I wanted was to see the show.
Once we arrived, it felt like being home- I have to agree with you that it might be the best ever Sandy show and I feel that it may be one of the best shows of all-time.
It was really nice to talk to the band- reminiscing with them about all the shows of the olden days. I realized talking to Ensign that I've known you guys for nearly half my life, and it's been a whirlwind ride. Being around the humor, the old friends and the good people made the evening very enjoyable.
I fear that I'm getting too sentimental about this, but of all the moments in all the shows I've done, seeing Paul Cardall onstage, the sparkle in his eyes- that was one of the most incredible things I've ever seen. He has the same look in his eyes that my young friend Jake, a cancer survivor, has in his. And experiencing it makes me feel good.
We are of the age that we have friends and family that are leaving us, and to see someone who has fought and is winning, that makes me feel good. That's why I do this, that's what it's all about.
Drive This Road and Fool in the Tavern were exceptional as well. Fool might have been the best ever, I absolutely love the 'What About' coda that you do in that one.
Your music, working on your shows- these events have helped shape me, to temper the otherwise chaotic life I lead. Your music has been a huge element of my life, and it's always an honor to help out, to see the music touch and affect others like it does me.
I might be your biggest fan, and it's an honor to call you a friend.
Here's to many many more great experiences.
~P
And now, here's the email I sent:
Thanks Pete.
I really had fun and hope to be able to do it again sometime soon.
Please let me know if you have any shows where I might be able to offer assistance.
~P
I've been doing this gentleman's shows for over 15 years now, in every capacity you can imagine- Sound Guy, Light Guy, Stage Manager, Catering Guy, Gopher, Security, Driver, Electrician, CAD Artist, Nanny, Scenic Designer, Bodyguard, Roommate, etc.
Well the other day I contacted him and let him know that I was available and interested in helping out with his big summer show- a flashback-type show, with the playing of his complete first album and most of the second. This is the era of his career that I was around to experience and I really like this music.
He gladly accepted my offer of assistance. I was working for dinner, and maybe a little bit of merchandise- although I have it all already, don't need any more.
I went with no expectations, but it did produce a bit of apprehension, since some of the band members were guys from the old days who I hadn't seen in many years.
Things went well, one of the best shows I've ever seen him play. And I've seen hundreds. Really. Literally hundreds. This was fantastic.
A couple days after the show, he sent me a note thanking me for my help. He's very gracious and friendly, and it was nice to have the appreciation.
Here's the email I wrote to send him in reply:
Pete-
Thanks for the message.
Once I heard about the retro-show, I was interested in helping out.
My schedule these days doesn't allow for as much playtime as it used to, but it's nice to squeeze it in when I can. I am always on the hunt for a good night of entertainment- and honestly, that's all I wanted was to see the show.
Once we arrived, it felt like being home- I have to agree with you that it might be the best ever Sandy show and I feel that it may be one of the best shows of all-time.
It was really nice to talk to the band- reminiscing with them about all the shows of the olden days. I realized talking to Ensign that I've known you guys for nearly half my life, and it's been a whirlwind ride. Being around the humor, the old friends and the good people made the evening very enjoyable.
I fear that I'm getting too sentimental about this, but of all the moments in all the shows I've done, seeing Paul Cardall onstage, the sparkle in his eyes- that was one of the most incredible things I've ever seen. He has the same look in his eyes that my young friend Jake, a cancer survivor, has in his. And experiencing it makes me feel good.
We are of the age that we have friends and family that are leaving us, and to see someone who has fought and is winning, that makes me feel good. That's why I do this, that's what it's all about.
Drive This Road and Fool in the Tavern were exceptional as well. Fool might have been the best ever, I absolutely love the 'What About' coda that you do in that one.
Your music, working on your shows- these events have helped shape me, to temper the otherwise chaotic life I lead. Your music has been a huge element of my life, and it's always an honor to help out, to see the music touch and affect others like it does me.
I might be your biggest fan, and it's an honor to call you a friend.
Here's to many many more great experiences.
~P
And now, here's the email I sent:
Thanks Pete.
I really had fun and hope to be able to do it again sometime soon.
Please let me know if you have any shows where I might be able to offer assistance.
~P
Isn't it Ironic?
Take a guy, genetically predisposed to early hearing loss and tinnitus and make it his life dream to be a sound engineer.
Or a guy, whose parental history guarantees that he'll have bad knees, arthritis and a bad back. Take that guy and make his favorite hobby hiking. And his second choice? Biking.
Perhaps we should consider a person with social anxiety and communication issues who has a job in the communications industry, dealing with people.
Or a guy, whose parental history guarantees that he'll have bad knees, arthritis and a bad back. Take that guy and make his favorite hobby hiking. And his second choice? Biking.
Perhaps we should consider a person with social anxiety and communication issues who has a job in the communications industry, dealing with people.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Vanishing Point
I'm sitting in Snyderville, Utah at a resort called The Canyons. This place used to be known as Wolf Mountain and before that, ParkWest.
For 20 years, from the mid- 1970s until the middle of the 1990s, everyone played there. I mean everyone. A diverse listing of bands from every genre and country. I can't possibly ever list them all, since the records are all long gone, and the internet only offers a partial history of such things.
The Grateful Dead, Crosby, Stills and Nash (and occasionally Young), Depeche Mode, Howard Jones, Morrissey, Erasure, New Order, Bunnymen, Eurythmics, John Denver, Love and Rockets, Barenaked Ladies, Dave Matthews, Metallica, PiL, Chicago, Bob Dylan, UB40, Oingo Boingo, America, Anderson Bruford Wakeman and Howe, Jackson Browne, Lilith Fair, Midnight Oil, Amy Grant, Dan Fogelberg, Suicidal Tendencies, James Taylor, Indigo Girls, Sugarcubes, Pat Benatar, Fleetwood Mac, Sting, The Scorpions, Steve Winwood, The Ramones.
They've killed it.
I have so many memories of this place, and as of today (August 6, 2010) everything about the place I remember has been bulldozed, with the exception of the stairs.
The stairs that used to lead up between the buildings to the stage. All of these people walked up the stairs to the stage. The stage is long gone, the buildings behind the stage have been demolished in the last few weeks, I watched some of them go away today.
Several years ago I visited this place, all the buildings were still intact and you could easily see the footprint of the amphitheater. I stood up on the hill, right in the place I had once enjoyed a New Order soundcheck. I could feel and hear the music. I stood in the 3rd row, where I was for Love and Rockets. I could even smell and taste those days. I walked up a bit and remembered every moment I had ever spent on this hillside, listening to bands that I idolize. I became a 'TreePeople'- again.
I remembered waking up one morning in the rocks... without my shoes. I remembered Howard Jones stopping a song in 1986 mid-song due to rain... and picking it back up a year later from exactly the same spot.
I walked down to the place the stage used to be. I stood center stage, and was electrified by the energy that passed through this spot. I was suddenly Morrissey, Annie Lennox, Jon Anderson, Dave Gahan, John Denver, Pat Benatar, Bernard Sumner, Danny Elfman, Joey Ramone, James Taylor and Jerry Garcia. I could feel them, I could see the crowds, I could understand what these people give of themselves for the fans. I could feel their stagefright, I could taste their drugs.
Hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions of people experienced their favorite bands here. Some of the best (and worst) music in history was performed at this place. And it's all gone. knocked down and carted away in a giant dumptruck.
I despise the bastards that don't understand the value of these things. I hate this place now.
For 20 years, from the mid- 1970s until the middle of the 1990s, everyone played there. I mean everyone. A diverse listing of bands from every genre and country. I can't possibly ever list them all, since the records are all long gone, and the internet only offers a partial history of such things.
The Grateful Dead, Crosby, Stills and Nash (and occasionally Young), Depeche Mode, Howard Jones, Morrissey, Erasure, New Order, Bunnymen, Eurythmics, John Denver, Love and Rockets, Barenaked Ladies, Dave Matthews, Metallica, PiL, Chicago, Bob Dylan, UB40, Oingo Boingo, America, Anderson Bruford Wakeman and Howe, Jackson Browne, Lilith Fair, Midnight Oil, Amy Grant, Dan Fogelberg, Suicidal Tendencies, James Taylor, Indigo Girls, Sugarcubes, Pat Benatar, Fleetwood Mac, Sting, The Scorpions, Steve Winwood, The Ramones.
They've killed it.
I have so many memories of this place, and as of today (August 6, 2010) everything about the place I remember has been bulldozed, with the exception of the stairs.
The stairs that used to lead up between the buildings to the stage. All of these people walked up the stairs to the stage. The stage is long gone, the buildings behind the stage have been demolished in the last few weeks, I watched some of them go away today.
Several years ago I visited this place, all the buildings were still intact and you could easily see the footprint of the amphitheater. I stood up on the hill, right in the place I had once enjoyed a New Order soundcheck. I could feel and hear the music. I stood in the 3rd row, where I was for Love and Rockets. I could even smell and taste those days. I walked up a bit and remembered every moment I had ever spent on this hillside, listening to bands that I idolize. I became a 'TreePeople'- again.
I remembered waking up one morning in the rocks... without my shoes. I remembered Howard Jones stopping a song in 1986 mid-song due to rain... and picking it back up a year later from exactly the same spot.
I walked down to the place the stage used to be. I stood center stage, and was electrified by the energy that passed through this spot. I was suddenly Morrissey, Annie Lennox, Jon Anderson, Dave Gahan, John Denver, Pat Benatar, Bernard Sumner, Danny Elfman, Joey Ramone, James Taylor and Jerry Garcia. I could feel them, I could see the crowds, I could understand what these people give of themselves for the fans. I could feel their stagefright, I could taste their drugs.
Hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions of people experienced their favorite bands here. Some of the best (and worst) music in history was performed at this place. And it's all gone. knocked down and carted away in a giant dumptruck.
I despise the bastards that don't understand the value of these things. I hate this place now.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Paradise
If we left this town, we could walk the earth together
If you let me down, I will live in you forever
I want you, I want you, I need you, I need you
I want you, I want you, I need you, I need you
If we could find a home, we could go through time together
If we could hold our own, devastate the night forever
There's no place where we can't go
There's no place where I have been
There's no limit I can show
There's no level in between
I could have seen you there,
I need you everywhere
I want you, I want you, I need you, I need you
I want you, I want you, I need you, I need you
I could have seen you there
When I looked into your lifeless eyes, I saw you everywhere
There's no place where you can hide
There's no place that I can't find
There's no end to leave me clean
There's no reason I have seen
If you find me on my own, you could live your life forever
Shall we leave our world alone, maybe we'll go back or never
I could've seen you there
When I looked into your lifeless eyes, I saw you everywhere
I want you, I want you, I need you, I need you
I want you, I want you, I need you, I need you
I want you, I want you, I need you, I need you
I want you, I want you, I need you, I need you
lyrics by Hook, Sumner, Gilbert, Morris
Thursday, July 29, 2010
More Biscuits n Stuff
The post about my breakfast reminded me of a few critical events that shaped my late-adolescence...
A few friends and I worked for a couple years at Hardees in Provo, UT. There are so many stories I wish I could tell, but time has clouded my memory, and the statute of limitations (as well as a basic sense of decency) prohibits me from relating all of the events that took place.
I never again in my life want to smell, touch, taste or even imagine the monstrosity known as the Hardee's Cinnamon 'N' Raisin Biscuit.
Nasty!
We used to spend tremendous amounts of time there at night, I'm pretty sure I saw the sun come up there more than half the days of 1989- either because I was working or because I was camped out in the booth near the window staying up all night.... or both.
We used to make all sorts of custom food- partially to keep ourselves entertained, and partly to stay nourished.
Biscuit Deluxe: Hardees flagship burger was the Big Deluxe: Bun, Mayo, Lettuce, Tomato, Onion, Burger, Cheese, Bun. We took it to the extreme by making the sandwiches on biscuits at 4am.
Pizza Biscuit: They liked to mess with the menu at Hardees- one day they decided that they would add the 'Pizza Burger'- a burger with marinara sauce and some kind of white cheese. We made biscuits out of the same- although they were really nasty with the breakfast sausage patties. Really good with either the 10:1 patties or no meat. The cheese was good if you tripled it. Estimated calories per sandwich: 600. Also good biscuits and gravy style.
Death Biscuit: We called the plain kiddie hamburger the Death Burger. When it was transferred to the secret breakfast menu, it became the Death Biscuit. (Also of course the Cheesy Death Biscuit) If you've never had catsup, pickles and mustard for breakfast, you are missing out.
Big Mac Biscuit: (don't ask)
Chicken Cordon Biscuit: a Hot Ham and Cheese portion with a Breakfast Chicken and some additional 'Swiss' cheese.
Shroom and Swiss Biscuit: Mushroom sauce, 'Swiss', Sausage, Biscuit. Heaven on earth. Hell on the digestive system.
Then there was the time that we converted an entire case of lollipops (the candy for the kiddie meals) into Death Lollies.
Strangely enough, that was the name of a fantastic local electro-punk band of that era.
One of my blood brothers was fond of referring to paper napkins as 'Masculine Napkins' - a play on some kind of feminine hygiene product... Anyway. Once we went through stacks of napkins and drew the Mars symbol
(also the symbol for masculinity and the male gender) on approx every 8th napkin. Sometimes we would draw the Death Mars.
The napkins were then placed in the dispensers. It was an awesome study of human behavior. Occasionally you'd even get a smart customer who would get the joke...
A friend (same guy) and I had a little game we liked to play called 'Running from the Cops'- the objective was to... well.... run from the cops. We didn't break the law. I swear. All you had to do, when stumbling upon law enforcement at 2am, was to look shady or suspicious until the officer saw you, then run like hell in the direction that they had the least chance of catching you.
(Summer 1989 was the year that University Avenue was torn up for reconstruction, so it was actually easy to get away... they had to drive literally miles to get to the other side)
If the cop or copette ever cornered you, they would ask 'Why are you running?' and the answer was 'Because I need exercise' or 'Because I want to' or 'Walking is too slow' or some such smartypants answer. It was pretty much an attempt to get us into a place where we could ask the cop to show us why it was illegal for a person over the age of 18 to go jogging anytime they wanted to. It's quite gratifying to ask a member of law enforcement 'You got a problem with that?'
Anyway- the inevitable destination after a hearty round of Running from the Cops was... wait for it.... Hardees.
One night we bailed from the law, managed to ditch him and made to home base- we celebrated our triumph with a twist cone and a gigantic cup of carbonated beverage. As I was making my self a twist cone deluxe, an order came through the drive through speaker- one twist cone. so I whipped it up, walked it over to the window and holy &^*@!! there was Officer Not-So-Friendly, looking me right in the face. I nearly pooped a brick.
He didn't recognize me. But I slept with my back to the wall for days....
A few friends and I worked for a couple years at Hardees in Provo, UT. There are so many stories I wish I could tell, but time has clouded my memory, and the statute of limitations (as well as a basic sense of decency) prohibits me from relating all of the events that took place.
I never again in my life want to smell, touch, taste or even imagine the monstrosity known as the Hardee's Cinnamon 'N' Raisin Biscuit.
Nasty!
We used to spend tremendous amounts of time there at night, I'm pretty sure I saw the sun come up there more than half the days of 1989- either because I was working or because I was camped out in the booth near the window staying up all night.... or both.
We used to make all sorts of custom food- partially to keep ourselves entertained, and partly to stay nourished.
Biscuit Deluxe: Hardees flagship burger was the Big Deluxe: Bun, Mayo, Lettuce, Tomato, Onion, Burger, Cheese, Bun. We took it to the extreme by making the sandwiches on biscuits at 4am.
Pizza Biscuit: They liked to mess with the menu at Hardees- one day they decided that they would add the 'Pizza Burger'- a burger with marinara sauce and some kind of white cheese. We made biscuits out of the same- although they were really nasty with the breakfast sausage patties. Really good with either the 10:1 patties or no meat. The cheese was good if you tripled it. Estimated calories per sandwich: 600. Also good biscuits and gravy style.
Death Biscuit: We called the plain kiddie hamburger the Death Burger. When it was transferred to the secret breakfast menu, it became the Death Biscuit. (Also of course the Cheesy Death Biscuit) If you've never had catsup, pickles and mustard for breakfast, you are missing out.
Big Mac Biscuit: (don't ask)
Chicken Cordon Biscuit: a Hot Ham and Cheese portion with a Breakfast Chicken and some additional 'Swiss' cheese.
Shroom and Swiss Biscuit: Mushroom sauce, 'Swiss', Sausage, Biscuit. Heaven on earth. Hell on the digestive system.
Then there was the time that we converted an entire case of lollipops (the candy for the kiddie meals) into Death Lollies.
Strangely enough, that was the name of a fantastic local electro-punk band of that era.
One of my blood brothers was fond of referring to paper napkins as 'Masculine Napkins' - a play on some kind of feminine hygiene product... Anyway. Once we went through stacks of napkins and drew the Mars symbol
(also the symbol for masculinity and the male gender) on approx every 8th napkin. Sometimes we would draw the Death Mars.
The napkins were then placed in the dispensers. It was an awesome study of human behavior. Occasionally you'd even get a smart customer who would get the joke...
A friend (same guy) and I had a little game we liked to play called 'Running from the Cops'- the objective was to... well.... run from the cops. We didn't break the law. I swear. All you had to do, when stumbling upon law enforcement at 2am, was to look shady or suspicious until the officer saw you, then run like hell in the direction that they had the least chance of catching you.
(Summer 1989 was the year that University Avenue was torn up for reconstruction, so it was actually easy to get away... they had to drive literally miles to get to the other side)
If the cop or copette ever cornered you, they would ask 'Why are you running?' and the answer was 'Because I need exercise' or 'Because I want to' or 'Walking is too slow' or some such smartypants answer. It was pretty much an attempt to get us into a place where we could ask the cop to show us why it was illegal for a person over the age of 18 to go jogging anytime they wanted to. It's quite gratifying to ask a member of law enforcement 'You got a problem with that?'
Anyway- the inevitable destination after a hearty round of Running from the Cops was... wait for it.... Hardees.
One night we bailed from the law, managed to ditch him and made to home base- we celebrated our triumph with a twist cone and a gigantic cup of carbonated beverage. As I was making my self a twist cone deluxe, an order came through the drive through speaker- one twist cone. so I whipped it up, walked it over to the window and holy &^*@!! there was Officer Not-So-Friendly, looking me right in the face. I nearly pooped a brick.
He didn't recognize me. But I slept with my back to the wall for days....
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Things Change
But somehow stay the same...
22 years later, still sitting enjoying a delicious breakfast biscuit and some hash rounds.
Of course, back in the day, it would have been Sausage. Then for a while I preferred Ham. Now I eat egg/cheese.
But the principle is the same, no?
22 years later, still sitting enjoying a delicious breakfast biscuit and some hash rounds.
Of course, back in the day, it would have been Sausage. Then for a while I preferred Ham. Now I eat egg/cheese.
But the principle is the same, no?
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Fun Fun Fun
7/3/2010
Showtime approaches
Final preparations.
Things are cleaned up.
We are cleaned up.
The guests arrive.
Dinner is served.
Drinks are served.
We see band members at the crew/band feeding station.
Brian makes an appearance for a photo op. He's a completely different person: smiling, laughing, joking. I assume he has had a nap, a massage, some vocal warmups, maybe some dinner. It's nice to see that he won't be so surly in front of the guests.
Back to places, and we wait.
The CEO of the high-end real-estate development gives a rah-rah speech. As he is talking, we see a couple of Suburbuns racing up the hill towardbackstage.
I guess he's going to play.
CEO: "Ladies and Gentlemen, Brian Wilson and his band" and they appear onstage.
For optimal dramatic effect, I'd like to say that I bawled like a baby through the 26 song set, struggling to see the stage through my tears of joy.
But that wouldn't be true. I'm a professional you know, so I can turn it off in the line of duty. Other than a couple songs, when I misted up and sniffled a bit.
The band played for some time, very well in fact.
Wow what a show. Things progressed without incident until Brian decided to fall down, flat on his
face, right before the encore. He seemed unhurt. And for a guy that already has a few bruises, what's the harm in a couple more?
Fireworks. Boom, Bang, Blam.
Clean up the mess and go home.
So here's the summary:
I got a chance to be the lighting designer (director) for Rock and Roll Hall of Fame member Brian Wilson and the show started so early that the lights were mostly invisible until the last 3 songs.
The End.
Showtime approaches
Final preparations.
Things are cleaned up.
We are cleaned up.
The guests arrive.
Dinner is served.
Drinks are served.
We see band members at the crew/band feeding station.
Brian makes an appearance for a photo op. He's a completely different person: smiling, laughing, joking. I assume he has had a nap, a massage, some vocal warmups, maybe some dinner. It's nice to see that he won't be so surly in front of the guests.
Back to places, and we wait.
The CEO of the high-end real-estate development gives a rah-rah speech. As he is talking, we see a couple of Suburbuns racing up the hill towardbackstage.
I guess he's going to play.
CEO: "Ladies and Gentlemen, Brian Wilson and his band" and they appear onstage.
For optimal dramatic effect, I'd like to say that I bawled like a baby through the 26 song set, struggling to see the stage through my tears of joy.
But that wouldn't be true. I'm a professional you know, so I can turn it off in the line of duty. Other than a couple songs, when I misted up and sniffled a bit.
The band played for some time, very well in fact.
Wow what a show. Things progressed without incident until Brian decided to fall down, flat on his
face, right before the encore. He seemed unhurt. And for a guy that already has a few bruises, what's the harm in a couple more?
Fireworks. Boom, Bang, Blam.
Clean up the mess and go home.
So here's the summary:
I got a chance to be the lighting designer (director) for Rock and Roll Hall of Fame member Brian Wilson and the show started so early that the lights were mostly invisible until the last 3 songs.
The End.
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