D's Journal
night of the living dead
there's nothing like the warmth and sanctitude of home after the kind of fiasco i've been through. my flight routing was via dallas, and after getting on the plane to baton rouge and spending two hours in a seatbelt not going anywhere, i suspect they took our pilot's blood alcohol level, because he wasn't making too very much sense thru the intercom. he sounded like the stork that delivers babies on the cartoons 'congratulations, you're a mother..' and so that particular flight was delayed.. well 16 hours to be accurate. i might as well have spent the night in jail. the flourescent hum of dead of night terminal-land where everyone's a stranger with nothing to do but wait left me indescribeably mind numbed and desperate for something to save my ailing plastic seated search for entertainment. i ended up reading cosmo for chrissakes. i did get some video footage walking around at 4 am seeing all the people attempting sleep in the rickety american airlines cots (see, that word is NOT only used in phonics) in their most comprimising faces besides mid-sex ones, sleeping faces, and i also negotiated tons of bicuits and dirty rice for any acquantances from the closing popeyes zombies and i played a bit of guitar for some folks but i didn't have much in me because i felt like a paper mache version of myself, crusty, hollow, artificial, not willing to move. i didn't want to go to the bathroom because i didn't want to see a staunch and real vision of myself as i would look as a corpse. anyway i finally finally got home and most of what i've done since is try n catch up on sleep. i'm now clean and rested and happy and fingernails are cut and i am about to go be nourished both by food and fam. my dad's sacked out in the armchair pretending to watch the game, and my mama is wanting to know what bridget jones's next dillema will be. i think everything's in check. i wish everyone goodness and warmth, and the peace of mind to remember what they are given.
safety...
flew up here to d.c. in a flurry of packing and little details, and the past few days have rushed by like the downtown buisinesspeople on the streets up here, so that is good methinks. the whole big event was the awards gala at the hard rock cafe downtown, where i had the chance to perform the winning song to a big audience of songwriter community people and entertainment lawyers. i brought backup for the operation, so all systems were go. i actually had no reason to feel cool other than the plain fact that i got this guy named nucleo to play percussion with me. it's good to remember that all you need is someone named nucleo in your band and basically you have nothing to worry about. he played this box that you sit on, and it really does have a whole funky kit type feel from hitting different parts of it with your hands, and then he moved to the djembe. greg g was spot on in sync with him on the bass, and so the performance went well. now i know a little about those performances by people on those awards shows, because it feels like they go by in a millisecond like a comet thru the sky or something. there were a bunch of people from all different genres of music, and it's amazing how big the chasms between them seemed, how small the attention span and window of ear commitment was between those in 'such different worlds'. it kind of highlights the fact that i can be held back at times by my own stuff being such a hybrid of forms, bc people just want to categorize everything so that it can be simpler in their brain. we were at the table of noodles and company discussing how the same thing is done on down to very types of people. i have an ex-girlfriend who was able to narrow someone down to a specific hipster people-type designation within a matter of seconds. it truly limited her ability to relate to humanity and she didn't even see it. judgement comes in so many forms, and i guess it's a shame that the success-minded or buisiness-minded must be savvy to this fact and operate within its constructs at all times. anyway the crowd really took to us and i got to solo on electric which is rare, and jon got some cheezy documentary footage for posperity. i won 250 bux and a year's membership to taxi and shook a bunch of hands, and earlier that day i got my hair cut by susan sarandon's sister. anyway it beats zelda II in a basement somewhere.
i also got to play my favorite maryland hang, and it was king as usual. there is something about the informality of vibe in that place that always lends to them being the best feeling of nights for me musically. there were a couple of really good acts on the bill that night too, and so i've had a lot of important input/output effect. bc i don't really think anyone can really make good music without seeing a bunch of great live music on a regular basis to feed them. i then desintegrated into the misty tawny night with my college park crew, and we went into the crazy partypad for a late night of meatballs and spagetti and those drinks that you dump the shotglass into and then gulp down like dogs.
my cellphone that once looked like cool chartreuse alien spaceship phone now is a taped up shabby pos with new malfunctions every day only to complete my already suspicious sentiment about the things in the first place. i believe it will not be long till the thing is flung into some remote canyon somewhere or from a cruiseship in a perfectly symbolic act of debondage. the modern man in me is fleeing to the caves, and i can only hope for now it is not at the expense of anything important. "never saw no miracle of science and progress.. that didn't go from a blessing to a curse"
tomorrow (today) will be the day of navigating the throes of not-so-effective ubersecure cavity search air transport to get back to the stompin grounds for familyness on the day that consumerism skims over for lack of anything to market. i think this year i truly will be in the mental space to thank my stars for the true friends that have proven themselves to me in nothing more important than action itself, consistency, and loyalty thru time. i am quite privelaged to be tight with a good few amazing people, for whom i'd do about anything. it's amazing how lately people have been communicating so much to me and far more than they could ever do with ...words. it seems like so long since i've seen the big family and i really look forward to it. i think thru all the smalltalk and judgement and bullshit that goes down there is a realness and love that transports itself without even being said. it breaks up the mundanity and lets us know that we are part of a beautiful secure purposeful bigger picture and there's usually a damn good meal too.
chelsea's
all things considered last night was a really good time. adam and i played from 10 to 1:15 in the bar where janus really got its start, and it just felt like rocknroll. cool baton rouge crowd for a wednesday nite, although i couldn't really see em the whole time since the lights were illuminating us in ultrawatt christmas colours. and i think our set worked as much as not-very-rehearsed guitar and drums/guitar and rhodes could.
number of newcastles drank:3
number of cameras documenting the event:2
number of times halleluhia played bc of incessant determined drunk blonde demand.. er... request:2
number of bad puns/stripper dj-voiced announcements via drummer position:34
number of copies of 'mean girls' rental stolen by cousins:1
number of comments on my new purple highlights:4
number of wendy-laughs:48
number of limbs used to actually play the music:7
number of neo-hippies who danced no time other than the little chalkdust torture segway:5
number of louie's hashbrowns eaten afterwards:72
in other news i bought a rocking chair. i think it will be the very first thing to fill whatever pad i choose to next inhabit. u pretty much have to admit that you're under pretty tough competition with the rocking chair when trying to name objects that promote a sense of relaxation and peace. i really think more young people should buy them it would help with their a.d.d.
someone told me that ritalin is out. i wonder if that means it is now sold in back alleys.
so tonite i was all stoked to go on out to the spanish moon for 80s nite.. i even had my side-zip asian lettre stiched black boots on.. but it simply was not happening. there was loud music, but simply not el numero o people to warrant its volume. i am waiting for my friend baton rouge to redeem himself.
i will now go to that 24-hour place where one can acquire ghiradelli chocolate.
life imitates havarti
you know those little morsels of knowledge that seem to be so sanctified at the end of a half hour shitcom where the characters realize something and then change or understand each other immediately and all of a sudden they and you feel so goshdarn much better? i was just wondering where they were in real life- and for once, just once, could i be a cosby...
but no, the cosby show and three's company and family ties and growing pains kicked todays shows in the arse. there's like this fine line between the ones of today and the commercials between them. what would happen to us all if both all of a sudden became real? if the subway ads were like 'you know it's all about the convenience, cause you could make this shit at home.' and the lawyer's ads were 'since the justice system in this country encourages lucrative suing for just about anything and any amount, help fund my yacht and your vacation!' and the tv shows had people slamming doors on each other and then basically acting bottled up and rude for the next three episodes and the teenage girl is making herself puke in the bathroom while her brother is perfecting his graffiti tag in the garage. o but wait! we've tried that.. the reality shows. but everyone knows that the only true reality show was candid camera. every person in reality tv either could be in a cosmo ad or was prompted beforehand or set up in a situation to can some entertaining result. does my life compare to these cheesers? of course not. i don't have pepsicola paying a grand a second to interject subliminal propaganda into the minds of those who watch me. no wonder we all wallow in doubt of self sufficiency. i just wanna watch an everyman. at least jack tripper or mork from ork were atmittedly, openly plastic.
it's a good thing someone is cutting me some bootleg season 4 of six feet under bc i think tv is just like radio...
rock the what?
voting today felt vaguely like choosing a wireless carrier-- hmm which of the minions of Satan is actually least evil? which filthy rich blue blood mook and his motley crew who ultimately know and care absolutely squat about the common man lies with the most finesse? Hmm.
it's funny that despite how bad our choices get, the sides still proceed to being people's religion.
i truly wish that once one of them were put in that house, that they would then work for everyone; would then work with the smartest people with the best ideas rather than simply members of their own bred little clique, built so wonderfully on the system of bipartisan politics our forefathers so warned us about. i shudder to think how naive that even sounds.. it's just.. welcome to politics. politics are just essentially corrupt. but politics make all the big decisions. i know, where's my faith, huh?
damn i'm glad i'm in music.
still, it always feels good to vote. it's like... Whabam! I exist.
mmm
i want to write a screenplay about how dave thomas was set up to be some kind of well meaning cult figure who would inadvertantly lead us all to ruin and destruction by a puppeting mind's dictatorial whims but who made a wrong move and was murdered in some huge jfk-type scheme... but right now i just want to eat the junior bacon cheeseburger in front of me.
carlotta street
so this whole thing was broken for more than a month, and i have not been on here atoll, particularly at a time when things have been changing the most for me. anyway it's prolly a good thing bc i woulda been on here trying to describe it all and become more late than i already was in the whole process of moving all my things out of that crazy apartment. the head time has been good. i gave a farewell concert just outside in the parking lot of the hood when i left, and it was pretty swank to end that era with the momentum of true urban communion and acceptance, communicating in the best way i sometimes can to the people i've known for a year as the guy with the groceries, the guy with the hellabass car, the gal with the kids, etc. and the thing is, that's what i was to them too, the white guy who puts guitars in the car at strange hours and leaves for 2 weeks at a time. it's amazing how the denominator of music can just open people up and make them smile, make them talk, like alcohol or something. and there was this cat who joined me and started freestyling, and he was AMAZING. he would go on for like 5 minutes with constant quick witty perfectly metered rhymes and it was all off the cuff.. i consider my music to be sort of improvish, but damn not like that..
i'm back down south n it's good for now. i feel a whole lotta writing welling in me. it's time to kickoff the whole writing process for the stripped-down album. i have stuff i'm excited of so far.
and holy shnikes i can't think of a better place to have been for halloween than the beautiful wonder that has become the carlotta street tradition at lsu. it's funny how most all louisiana culture is basically an offspill of new orleans culture, and this is no exception. the crazy packed nightime street filled with colour and fire and music and loud debauchary and costuming and alc... adam and brandi live on ivanhoe the crosstreet, so they were having a little subparty there, and so the night was bound to have no ruts or gaping holes in it at all. these plans were not foiled. i spent half the night as d-bot, a huge cardboard box creature with a computing system language and variable controls marked for people in sharpie. and the second half of the eve was spent as captain twister, a guy with a twister game wrapped around him and a bowler hat, and the percentages were pretty favourable on people who tried to paw and molest me. but luckily a captain anything in a bowler hat can take care of himself.
the halloweekend has flowed from that, and has been pretty laid back until this particular jarring day being awoken early in the morn with the news that my father was in a really bad accident and that his suv is totalled, he's being rushed to the emergency room. luckily he's alright-- not much more than some stitches he had to wait 4 hours for, but there is nothing like a rush of adrenaline and pensive unrest that comes from having to contemplate the repurcussions and what ifs of something that could have taken one of the couple people in this world whom i love the most. i really deeply thank my stars for my dad- and i'm simply one of the many people he puts in awe.
and so here i am, finally with some space to kind of dig a little cave and create and do what i need to do, both mentally and otherwise. i'm sure some winds will whisk me away soon but i know i will always be back to the sweet smell of the mosquito-laden air in the place with the soft water and the jambalaya and the carnival hearts.