Tour: Too Many Long Nights (Parts 5,6 & 7)

Wow. Being away from a computer for too long plays tricks on a man's brain. I haven't seen a picture of a boob via the pornagraphic industry in like three days. Just kidding.............Kind of.

Where did we leave off?
Ah, yes. We were gearing up for the last leg of our tour. It's been a great time. I really enjoy spending time with David, and I think we've had some excellent times.

So Friday, we drove to Birmingham. It was an uneventful trip, which is good. We arrived at the venue about 6:00pm. The Moonlight Music Cafe was awesome. Thoroughly awesome. Keith Harrelson and his gal, Joni (insert last name here), were the nicest people we've met this trip. As we wandered into the venue, they greeted us with open arms and seemed genuinely excited to see us. The Moonlight, as it was referred to, was quite lavender, but a very nice room.

As you enter through the front door, there is a counter where they take assorted monies for the ticketing process. To your left is
a stairwell that leads to the bar/food counter and further on is the rest of the room. A stage, raised about three inches off of the ground, sits in the far left corner. We set up, soundchecked and got ready for the rest of our evening.

As the headlining band arrived, we were sitting downstairs running through our set. All of the sudden, God's gift to men walked in. Her name was Andi and she was the hottest girl I've seen in a good long while. She smiled at me (at least I hope) and I was smitten. Of course, as is commonplace, she wanted absolutely nothing to do with me or anything that I'm about. For the first time in my life, I now know that this is a good thing, as I will find out soon enough.

A very responsive, polite, and endearing crowd filed in starting at about 7pm. We played about 40 minutes or so and the crowd clapped and interacted and generally enjoyed our set. They passed around a tip jar at the end of our set and we actually witnessed people put dollar billz in the jar. And to our surprise, people even paid us money for copies of our music on various compact discs. David developed a crush on an older woman, who was in fact, HOT! No deal.

Yet another example of how nice Keith and Joni were/are, they put us up for the night, allowed us to roam around their house without shoes and even fed us breakfast in the morning. The only alarming part of our whole Birmingham experience was when Keith began telling a story of an open mic night at the Moonlight, and he mentioned that foxy little temptress, Andi......who is still in HIGH SCHOOL!!!!! SON OF A........................
I swear I'm not a pervert.

On to Columbia, SC.
Again, an uneventful drive. About half an hour into our drive, I got a phone call from Corey. He had decided to come down from Durham to the show. ROCK! We met up with BIG C at the venue, Jammin' Java, which was in downtown Columbia. We met this kid Clay, who worked at the venue and made us some awesome food. Again, we set up, played reasonably well and then packed up and left. Other details are omitted in order to keep you reading.

Corey, David and I shared a room at a hotel to be named later. I bought a twelve pack of Bud Select which tasted like wee-wee in a brown bottle, but it was alcoholic and just what we needed after playing for twenty-five people and making $5.

This morning we packed up and headed for the ATL. Our AWESOME friend Sarah has graciously allowed us to crash her pad and took it upon herself to mobilize her friends to come to the shows. We spent the afternoon passing out flyers to people who probably threw them away ten seconds later. We played at Smith's Olde Bar tonight. I think we had an audience of seven people (including the doorguy). Even the guy who booked the show left before we played. The sad part is, we played really really really well. David rocked the mic first, then we played about six songs together, and then I finished up. Fun was had, pictures were taken and things were interesting. It was a rollicking good time.

That is my story for now, and I'm gonna stick to it.
Tomorrow is Eddie's Attic and some decent hang time in the ATL. More flyers will be passed out, more people will avoid contact with us, and I will try desperately to convince David to let me give him a mohawk!

Tour: Part Four

So after a few brief moments of rest, along with band practices, trying to hang out with various friends as much as possible and attempting to catch up on some drinking, David and I finally played our homecoming show. Well, maybe it was just my homecoming show, since David still lives here, and was only gone for five days last week.

Irregardless, The Spanish Moon show definitely happened.

I don't know if I had just gotten my hopes up, or if it was in fact a well attended show. It was a Wednesday night, in Baton Rouge, and it was raining for a spell......which generally means hardly anyone goes out. I knew that. I've known that pattern for years. I was just hoping for a grander scale.

That complaining now having been complained, the people that did come out are AWESOME! Some I hung out with the night before, some I haven't seen in what seems like five years. But I had a blast, probably a little too much to drink, but a blast nonetheless.

"Car-Bomb-A-Thon '06" began the night for Mr. John Tulley. He had been talking about shooting "Irish Carbombs" for three days. In all honesty, I thought the birthday boy would have been passed out half-way through my set....but he rocked hard for the whole night, even after pulling double-duty as the bass player for both David and I.

David started the night off in the fashionably late style. Eleven PM rolled around as the place at least started to fill, mind you, it never actually continued to fill, but a start was good. David was backed by Drew Greene on drums and as previously mentioned, JT$ on bass guitar. His set was excellent and well played. It's a much different experience to see David play with a backing band. It adds a great amount of depth to each song. Usually when he plays alone, Dave fills a lot of space with his quick fingers and little quips on the high strings, but tonight, those elements were still there, but he let the band to the talking. It sounded gooooooooood.

I'm not really sure what time it was when we finally meandered on stage. It must have been at least midnight. Tom already had his drumset on stage and setup by the time I realized we were even supposed to start. I think I had gone to the bathroom and assumed David's band was wtill packing up. So I stumbled up the stairs and picked up my guitar. Brandon was already tuned and ready to go. John was strapped in after a brief moment of respite. So we got the levels checked, thanks to Talley, our excellent sound guy for the evening. And then we comenced to rocking.

I think we played really well. During practices and afterwards, I kept alluding to being in my band is like riding a bike.....once you learn how to do it, you don't really ever forget how its done. My on-again/off-again love affair with being in a band is the same way. Once you've played a show with me, you don't really forget the tunes whenever the next gig rolls around. Even though its been almost eight months since John and Brandon played with me, and a year or more since Tom played with me last, we rode that bike like we had been riding the whole time. Only a few beats were missed, and I think it was mostly my fault.....except when Brandon started playing along with "You'll Be Fine" by playing the wrong chords. Way to go, turd.

So. In summary, I think we played well. I think David and his band played very well. I think David put that heckler in his place (I'll let him tell you that story). It was awesome to hang out with so many familiar faces. It was great that Holly wore her "  I HEART Chris Keegan" t-shirt. I think more cute girls should own that shirt. Like an army of adoring female fans that I probably still wouldn't have a chance with. Damn.

As the sky is falling outside, I'm pondering the next stops on this tour. Birmingham tomorrow, Columbia on Saturday, and on to the ATL.

If you're reading this and in one of those cities, c'mon down!

Rock.

Tour: Parts Two and Three

PART TWO

Hola mis amigos. Yo necescito el bano.

Friday, David and I were still in Houston. We hung out with David's sister Carol and went to this massive candy store and David loaded up on some of the sweet stuff. Then it was off to the Menil, which is a small museum with some cool art and artifacts. After a quick lunch at a trendy but national grocery store, we headed back to the house, hit up the game Catchprase for hours and then went out on the town with Carol and her husband Fred.

Saturday morning, when David woke me up with monster noises, it was monsooning. We needed to depart Houston with a quickness and so I showered as quickly as possible, threw all my crap into my bag and we headed out like a baby through a birth canal.

PART THREE

David, being the uber-ninja that he is, found us a "possible" show at a place called Cafe Brazil (a chain of coffee shop/restaurants in Dallas). After trying to reach the manager/booking guy for a whole week, we finally managed to peg him down on Friday. The only drag was that we had to be in Dallas, at the cafe, by 2:00pm. Thank the good Lord above that he blessed me with a lead foot, because we were parked and seated at the counter by 2:01pm.

We actually thought this guy was blowing us off and that he'd be a big jerk, but contrary to our bad attitudes (who, me?), the guy finally came to meet with us after he had his own buiness meeting to attend. He told us that he couldn't pay us, but we could have all the coffee we wanted! Neither David or I drink coffee..........damn. But he offered us a place to hang out and play. So David and I showed up at 8pm and played for about two hours. We ended up playing every song together, whether it was David's tunes or mine, or even a few covers of A Soup Named Stew, the Cure and New Order. It was an amazing time, and even though the crowd was sparse, we had a blast and I even sold a couple of CDs.

Yet again, David's family came to the rescue. David's oldest sister, Karen and her husband Bernie allowed us to invade their home too and have been awesome hosts, which apparently runs in Dave's family. Must be genetic or something. After the show last night, Bernie led us to a bar called the Ginger Man. Beer taps galore!!!! My kind of place, except that it was like 200 degrees outside at like 11:30pm. Dry heat, my ass.

Today, or well, tonight, we played at Club DaDa in Deep Ellum, which I guess you would say is the cool place to be in Dallas. Tons of clubs and apparently a ton of live music every night of the week. Tonight's show was actually an open mic night. So, in an effort to take up more time than the 20 minutes per set each, we signed up for a third installment as "The Sockpuppets", which was David and I's band from camp all those years ago. People really seemed to enjoy each of the three sets. In fact, there was one couple that was so enthralled by one of my songs, that they just commenced to makin' out right there in front of God and everybody. Rock on. Granted, I didn't get any play on this leg of the tour, but I totally lived vicariously through that guy.

So tomorrow it's back home to BR for a few days of rest and band practice, and then on Wednesday night August 23rd, it's David Loti and Chris Keegan @ The Spanish Moon!!!! Be there or be a triangle.....or something....I dunno, I think I failed geometry. 

Tour: Part One

Ok.
Day one, done.
Woke up stupidly early, then fell back asleep for too long.
David bought a set of drums this morning, which actually has nothing to do with anything, except that I thought it was interesting.

I suppose it was about 1:30pm when we finally loaded our small amount of equipment into my SUV and trucked it toward the somewhat large state of Texas. My question is this: If "everything is bigger in Texas", then how large are things in Alaska? Seriously, that state is f-in' HUGE! Is everything "huge-r" in Alaska? I digress.

Dave took a nap. I had a low blood sugar. We stopped in Winnie, TX and I had a Whataburger. It was tasty, but I'll know next time to order it with fewer onions.....and more cheese.

We arrived at David's sister's house (everyone follow that?) at a little after 6:00pm following a relatively stress free drive. We took a few moments to play a little music, before we put our gear back in the car and drove to the venue to take more moments to play a little more music.

Man, am I glad that David has family in Texas. If it weren't for David's sister and cousin and their respective husbands, we would have had an audience of the proprietors of Mojo Risin' and this guy Steve, and maybe some crickets. As we would later learn, Steve was an English teacher (who had no favorite author) at a local Community College. He also claimed to be a professional harmonica player, a claim which I refuse to support or deny. David, being the extra-super-nice guy that we all know he is, invited Mr. Pro-Harmonica Blower (?) to blow on a tune.

"He was good though," said David.

David and I traded 40 minute sets and then shared the stage for two songs together at the end. It was fun, but for the next show, I totally need to write a set list. Yeah.

In review, Mojo Risin' is a cool place in Houston that serves coffee and coffee-related beverages.....but no beer. Man, I need a beer. They've been open for about a year and have grown their fan base slowly.......sloooooooooowwwwwwly.

As David put it so eloquently in his half-sleep stammering, "We should totally do this for real. You know, this touring thing?"
Then I said "Yeah, we should do this for real, 'cause I wanna proactive with some groupies."

I guess you had to be there.....but you weren't.

Stay tuned kiddies. More shows to come......tens of more people to expose to our unique brand of less-than-rock-n-roll.

Two Things this Time

Two things this time.

I hate moving, but I'm afraid I'm done yet. I'm sure at some point I'll have to pack up all my crap and move along to yet another stop in this odd trip. Most recently, for those of you keeping score, I've stumbled into Durham, North Carolina. Perhaps, I'm a slacker and I'm just getting around to rambling about this, but I've been here for a month. I'm crashing on Big C's couch for the meantime.....well, at least I have been, Jonathan gave me his bed today, so I'll actually be using the room that Corey gave me for sleeping, instead of just storage.

I guess I expected bigger fanfare when I arrived. Big C and I have spent many an evening carrying on, perhaps a bit too far. In fact, I've had several mornings where I wished I hadn't woken up. But we did purchase some fancy lawn chairs and have had a few evenings turn to early mornings on the porch. I'm excited to be in place where grilling at will is totally possible. Plenty of hamburgers have been rabbled down my gullet.

I'm sad to see Jonathan headed back to Deustchland so soon after my arrival, and I'm not sure that I'll ever understand his attachment to such a foreign place, but he is really happy about it and he's smarter than me, so I'll just hope he decides to make it back here sooner rather than never. Curiously, that's about the extent of my stay in Durham so far. Drinking, Eating, and Watching plenty of baseball! I'm glad to have my two buddies around again. I'm sorry that the enjoyment can't be shared by everybody in the area, and that I'm running out of beer $$. So as everyone learns to live their own seperate lives, I'll just try and stay slightly inebriated till it all passes over.

That is, except while I'm driving.

I'm stoked. For once. I'm finally taking the opportunity to hop in a motor vehicle and drive around part of the country and play some tunes. It's been almost ten years since the last time I got to play music in a city other than the one I lived in. Granted, BUG's first few forays into the world of a touring band were amazingly fun. Thousands of great stories still get told about those trips to KC. But this is the first time I've ventured out on my own.........or at least to play my own music.

For the last six years since I've been on my own (musically speaking), I've always given way to supposed pressures of my job(s), hindrance of transportation, and other factors that I now view as ridiculous. Call it growing up, call it being an asshole......whatever. I'm finally doing it, although I could not do it alone! David Loti, you are my hero......in so many ways.

We're off, next week. Seven shows all around the southeast. Dave did most of the work.....in fact, all I was really ever able to accomplish was coming up with the idea and a list of cities we should target as possible venues for our unique brand of Wuss Rock. Much to his chagrin, David had waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay more luck in trying to book shows. One time, I was actually able to secure a show but then had to call back and cancel, after Dave had already booked a show on the same evening. The only other time I managed to get a response from a venue, it was to tell me that a certain Mr. Loti had already been in contact and they were "pleased to inform me of a time slot" that had already been secured.

So, take away my shortcomings as a booking agent. Subtract my distaste for living life as a nomad from my desire to wake up in a new city every day. Introduce a barrel-type container of chimpanzees (I don't want to get sued for trademark infringement), and let the tour begin!

See ya, suckers!

Man....that is NASTY!

Creepy.

I noticed something today. I've been watching a lot of television lately. Mostly reruns of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and various baseball games. As you may well know, between segments of entertainment, they play various short, quirky and occasionally entertaining quips known as commercials, designed to convince you, the viewer, to purchase an array of products.

There is one particular commercial where a middle-aged gentleman plays a guitar (left-handed, although the guitar is right-handed........it is also the same guitar that I own) and sings a song about the individual parts that form a Snickers candy bar.

I've always liked Snickers. In the pre-diabetes days of my illustrious life, I would eat about ten per day.

Ok, that's not true. In all reality I preferred a Mr. Goodbar or a Nestle Crunch, but a Snickers would do in a sweet-toothed pinch. I mostly reserved candy for the special stomach grumblings of a long road trip, but these days, when my blood sugar plummets, a nice hunk of chocolate helps prevent me from turning into a blue-faced diabetic coma icicle.

Now, to my dismay, this middle-aged candy bar crooner is also featured in a much more disturbing advertisement. He is placed, in this commercial, in the awkward position of hawking VALTREX to you and me. Personally, I don't have genital herpes (unless anyone I've slept with has something they want to tell me?), and I feel some empathic discomfort for those who do. But in all honesty, the last thing I want is a herpes-ridden old fart trying to sing me to sleep with a song about a fucking candy bar. I'd like to eat my chocolate treat in the personal comfort of knowing that my loins are not burning with the fires of little red blisters covering my love machine. 

The immoral of my story is this: Pay attention to commercials. Know who is selling you what. Also know if this person or these people have any little red bumps on their genitals that could cause your own happy times to burn like living hell. And cut back on all that candy you've been eating. You might end up like me and have to shoot up at restaurants before you eat with a bunch of inbreeds telling the waitress that someone is doing drugs at the table. IT'S INSULIN, YOU DUMB F*@%$#*@.

Diggin' For Gold...

So earlier today, I was pickin' my nose.....and I yanked out a glorious piece of booger-art.

I swear to God, this thing looked like a lamb-chop.

Unfreakin' real!

I was gonna take a picture of it, but I don't have a digital camera......so I just flicked it behind the couch along with the other lost treasures from the Mines de Nostril.

I seriously overdid it last night. I've said it before and I'll say it again: Shots are the bane of my existence!

Not to mention the crapload of beer that I steadily funneled down my gullet all night long.

It's good to be home. Seeing people I haven't seen in months. Having these people buy me alcoholic beverages. Then having other people drive me home. It's good to be the King.

Now, if only I could walk. I busted my ankle last week, playing Ultimate Frisbee with David. It's getting better, but it looks like hell......and it's no peach to stand on either!

I was gonna take pictures of that too and show you all the bruises that travel all the way to my knee......but, alas, we've previously discussed my lack-of-camera conundrum.

So, now it's off to watch movies.....keeping a low profile this evening in preparation for Thursday's debauchery!

Rock on. Holla atcha boy!

Garden State 2: The Escape From New Brunswick

Amazing weekend! Straight up awesome!

Here's tha dilly.......

My favorite band in the whole wide world, Toad the Wet Sprocket, has reunited for a summer tour. Having found this out, my homeboy Brandon decides to make a most excellent adventure to see the band in New Jersey. The gig is at Starland Ballroom on June 4th. So B makes his flight to come into the Newark, NJ airport late late on Saturday night. My job was to hop on a train and meet him at the aeropuerto at close to midnight.

Unbeknownst to B and myself, the Newark Airport is the screwiest place on earth......or so we thought.And, like a jackass, I totally missed my stop on the train anyway, so I had to ride to the next stop and then wait for a train to come back in the opposite direction. I talked to Brandon several times after he landed and while I was waiting for the train back to the airport. I even suggested that he should go ahead and pick up the rental car and pick me up from the train station I was waiting at.

Skipping a few unimportant details, I end up at Newark to see Brandon and a BRIGHT YELLOW 2006 Ford Mustang. Initially I was embarrassed to hop into such a gaudy car, but as will later be evidenced, this car would be our Godsend.

Now, Brandon is unbelievably prepared for this trip. He has maps, driving directions, tickets, parking, motel, hot spots, and destinations all totally scouted out and arranged. I, for one, was thoroughly impressed. As we find our way out of the parking garage and later the airport, I assume my job as navigator for our neon yellow spacecraft. In my defense, I have a stellar record as navigator for millions of roadtrips into undiscovered countries, like Kansas and North Carolina. I wholeheartedly blame all things that went wrong on the urban planners in the state of New Jersey. The streets are bonkers (for lack of a better word). There seems to be no way to make a (legal) left turn in the entire state.

We end up taking a poorly marked exit ramp that placed us deep into the heart of downtown Elizabeth, NJ. Without the aide of a GPS locator or a very detailed map (since we were there by accident, B had no map for this situation). We pass by the train station that I was waiting at (so Brandon totally could have picked me up) and make our way back to the interstate. Our first destination is a bar in New Brunswick. Brandon, being the stately beer connosieur that he is, found this place on the internet and they are regarded for their beer selection. Sadly, this idea bombs terribly. We wander in to a bar that is filled with over-dressed ladies and under-dressed gentlemen (yours truly included). There was a band playing that was confused about whether to rip off their sound from Phish or Matchbox 20 (not a good combination). And sadly the beer selection was not what Brandon had planned on. We guzzle our beers and decide to try and book it to a convienience store to grab a sixer and go to the motel.

Oh, right......because New Jersey suuuuuuucks, you can't buy beer in a convienience store. So its off to our suite (read: room with no view) at the Motel 6. Granted, we had to make three or four illegal left turns and one drive down a DO NOT ENTER lane, in order to make it to the "Sixer".

One, two, skip a lot......we get to our hotel.........shoot the breeze.....watch Sportscenter........sack out.

After rolling out of bed at around 11am on Sunday morning, B and I decide that some food would be an excellent way to start the day. We end up at McDonald's (mistake number 37 for those of you scoring at home). I'm going to take a moment away from the jokes for a second. I like to make you laugh, but I'm being dead serious. The employees at this McD's were hands-down the dumbest bunch of morons in history. I actually think that the kid who struggled through his attempt to take my order was retarded. I know that I bust on midgets and retards way too much, but Brandon can vouch for me here......this kid had no brain function.

Here is a summation of our conversation:

"Hi. Welcome. Welcome. Ummmmmm. Welcome to McDonald's. Can I take...., er, serve you?"

".......sure. Lemme get a number 4, no onions, and can I get and iced coffee instead of a soda?"

.....the kid then punches buttons for a solid minute.......

"Do you want fries, mister?"

"Yeah, I want the combo meal.....or whatever you call it here."

"And you want a large coffee?"

"No. I want an iced coffee instead of a soda."

"You mean with your meal? Instead of a soda?"

(shocked!!!!) "Yes. I think you've got it."

The kid wanders off, and stands in the middle of the workspace behind the counter. I don't know if his brain just shut off, but he spaced for a good minute. I eventually end up with a burger, small fries, and a GIANT iced coffee with most of the creamer on the side of the cup, because the kid obviously had no clue how to used the fountain system.

We finally sit down to eat, Brandon having had an equally ridiculous time ordered his breakfast/lunch. As I finish preparing to eat (taking my insulin shot), B has already finished eating.

Fast forward to Brandon and I driving around East Brunswick, searching for a high end wine and spirits store. Brandon loads up on big bottles of hearty, hoppy beers from companies that aren't distributed in LA. We also grab a couple of six packs, a styrofoam cooler box and two bags of ice. We head back to the Motel 6, turn on the Mets game on TV and start drinking.

At around 5, we decide to head to the venue, and maybe catch another bite to eat. We zoom past the venue on a search for some food, and settle on a Philipino Buffet. Most of the food was fantastic and the owner/cook/cashier lady kept trying to make us fill up another plate. The best thing on the menu was this chicken breast stuffed with spinach and cheese and covered in a very buttery/creamy sauce......AWESOME!

I'm realizing that I'm trying to cover every exciting event in this story and its becoming very very longwinded.......well, suck it up.

We get to the Toad show. They rock my face off! The show itself was reasonably uneventful and there is probably someone much more qualified to review this show. I had a blast. B and I got right in front. Pressed against the railing in front of Todd Nichols (the guitar player).

We leave the show at around 11:10pm and head straight to the Motel, where the rest of our six packs (eight beers left) and two Arrogant Bastard Ales are chilled and ready for consumption. We don't go to bed until 2:30 or 3am. Both Brandon and I had 7am flights departing from Newark Airport (which is 30 minutes away from our Motel room). We request a wake up call from the front desk for 4:15am and I set my cell phone alarm for 5 minutes after that. The plan is to wake, shower, haul to the airport and have plenty of time to stroll to our respective planes.

Again......the best laid plans.....

I am woken by a not-so-graceful love-tap on the shoulder from the Amazing Brand-O. It is now 5:37am and we have not ripped ourselves from the sweet slumber of all-night drinking. We both hurredly sweep all of our belongings into the bags we packed and run out of the door. Here is where the Yellow Mustang becomes worth the mention. We have a 30 minute drive and only 15 minutes to be there.

Brandon wins the Awesome Driver award.

115mph. Arrived at Newark a few moments past 6am.

I'm in North Carolina for a few days, then back to BR for some much needed home time!

Perhaps it has been too long...

Hello everyone.

....or anyone........

A friend of mine pointed out recently that I haven't blogged in a long time. She wanted to know if I was still alive. The answer, surprisingly, is yes. I have been laying low over the last few months. Plus, lengthy access to a computer has been reduced due to a certain roommate (mainly, that the computer is hers and I hide out in my room when she's home).

This is not to say that I haven't had some (not-so-) exciting bolg topics to share with you!

In February, I moved into this new space. It was a Craigslist find.....so i didn't know either of my roommates before moving in. I tucked myself into my jail-cell of a room and tried to be reasonably invisible. I get along with one roomie, while the other kind of drives me batty.

March was a monumental waste of time.

In April, I shaved my beard off. I had grown the beard in the beginning of October, and although I had trimmed it several times (when I shaved my head), I never cut it off until April 2. I have the pictures of the shave, including several variations on facial hair ideas (including: handlebar moustache, pornstar moustache, etc.). Sadly these pictures reside on my sister's hard drive......and being that I moved out of her apartment two months prior, it made it difficult to upload them, thus cancelling my blog post. The reason for the shave was Opening Day. I, along with three friends, attended Major League Baseball's Opening Day at Shea Stadium. We watched the New York Mets beat the Washington Nationals, 3-2. It was a great day, but it was so amazingly cold.

May has been decent. John came to visit, and although I had to work a lot and I was sick, I think we had fun. I spent last weekend at the Jersey Shore, near Asbury Park (think: Bruce Springsteen). We went to a bowling alley that has bands play in the middle of the lanes. We bowled while this horrible white-boy dub band played, and then the lanes were turned off when surf-guitar legend Dick Dale took the stage. "Who is that?" you ask. If you've seen Pulp Fiction, you've heard his music......it's pretty much the theme song to the movie.

Ashley and G-dub are coming to visit today. Hopefully that will mean more baseball games and excitement......but it won't squelch the homesickness.

I've played a few gigs this spring. In fact, I've played a lot more than I thought I would.....but never to more than 10 or 15 people. And it's not like I'm raking in the dough ($$) here. I figure I could play for the same size crowds back home for more money and at least the bartenders would buy me a consolatory Shiner Bock for my efforts.

At the same time, I feel like I'm accomplishing something by staying in New York. Whenever I was a kid and was at summer camp, I would get homesick and beg my parents to come get me. Now, even though I complain just as much, if not more.......my parents aren't coming to get me. I'm on my own. It's scary as hell......especially since my sister (who dragged me up here in the first place) just moved to New Orleans. She got a job with the Louisiana Recovery Authority. I'm happy for her......but i now have a bit of a desertion complex.

I feel like less of a man, for admitting I'm still a boy. Oh well.

Glen Phillips just put out a new EP and a new Record. They are both AMAZING. I went and saw him play a week ago or so.......also, AMAZING!!!!

And the cherry on top, is Brandon is coming in a few days, and we're going to see Toad the Wet Sprocket re-unite........At least that's some excitement!

"I'm Just Sayin'..."

So I've just knocked out a "sixer" of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale (John & Adam, I know you guys hate it, but stay with me here.....) and I'm bored as snot. The Olympics are leaving many, many, many things to be desired and I have some random yet exciting ideas that I would like to share with you.

First thing's first. I have finally made the transition from my sister's couch to a total stranger's couch!!!!! Hooray!

No, in all reality, I just moved into a new place......well, not just moved....it's been a couple of weeks now. Everything is cool. I have two roommates. Both are girls. That's ok.....i'm used to living with girls.....I have three sisters. I still don't feel like this is home.....it feels more like I'm house-sitting! I wake up in the morning and nobody is here....so i wander around in my boxers, watch TV, eat food that is in the fridge, and kill time until I have to go to work at my job that I loathe. Fun, right?

At least I'm catching up on old episodes of ER!

Something I've also noticed is that "I'm just sayin'..." has become the new phrase to abdictate oneself from all responsibility before stating an observation, comment, or rhetorical question.

For example: "I'm just sayin'.....Your face looks like somebody beat you upside the head with a bag of pennies!"

See? All blame has been removed from the statement.

The phrase can even be used at the end of a sentence:

"Your mom was a whore and now you are a whore..........I'm just sayin' !!"

I've noticed this phrase used by many New Yorker's since moving to the city, and now I'm even picking it up on TV shows and movies. It is weird to feel like you started a phenomenon, but still know that you have very little effect on anyone that has any contact to you.

On the same topic, I've also noticed that "Yeah, yeah, yeah" has replaced "Yada, yada, yada." as the end all, catch all phrase for New Yorkers. This is completely different and totally unrelated to the band, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs.

For example: "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I totally had sex with that girl!"

See how the details of the story no longer matter now that they have been replaced with "yeah, yeah, yeah"?

For your reference, the phrase can also be used to answer questions, state agreement, or even indifference!

So now that I've caught you up on my most recent discoveries and such, I'm off to waste even more time by watching the latest movie I have received from Netflix. Peace!