End it

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

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...

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?

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.

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.