Here We Go Again

Almost two years later, time to dust this off once more. Dodginess has hit a new all-time low at the Other Place. Much is up in the air with this, but for now, here we are.

I Thought We Were Through With This ...

Sorry I missed yesterday - Wife stayed home sick. She arguably had a better day than I did.

It turns out I am not quite the judge of character I had hoped I was. Yesterday morning was a planned road trip for bandmates JD, MG and myself up to Fredericksburg to check out some new gear, upgrading our PA and lights for the upcoming year. JD arrives first, and promptly shows me an email he received from AV, our chick singer. She has flipped out again and quit the band. Second time this month. Glad we aren't playing tonight - not sure what's going on for next week yet.

Now I liked AV, and was arguably one of her strongest supporters when she came into the band, based largely on my perception of her stability and professionalism. Clearly I was mistaken. At the risk of playing armchair psychologist, she seems to have some major insecurity and trust issues, undoubtedly stemming from her recent divorce (at age 28). About 90% of what she has freaked out over is entirely imaginary; the final straw was an ad she saw on craig's list for a band looking for a singer, which she assumed to be us surreptitiously trying to replace her. Obviously, it wasn't; but in her mind it was JD or MG, using a fake name and phone number she didn't recognize - classic conspiracy-theorist paranoia. I know people get crazy around the holidays, particularly fresh divorcees, surrounded by family and memories of what is no more, but this is ridiculous. We had no intention of throwing her under the bus, regardless of whatever overwrought scenario she fabricated for herself.

Bah.

My next task, as the One Stuck In The Middle, is to convince the new bass player not to bolt with her - he had rather become her teammate in the recent Us vs. Them stalemate I mentioned earlier. The biggest challenge in convincing him to stay is, frankly, convincing myself to stay. I am quickly losing patience with these amateur psychos, and not at all looking forward to the prospect of having to audition yet another one.

Enough of this - Happy Friday, have a great weekend, and prospero año nuevo

This is teh Suck

Looks like I get a few days off in the kitchen, after deep frying my thumb last night. Wasn't even on the menu ...

On the upside, the new bread turned out decent, and dinner itself was most acceptable - Eastern Shore grilled cheese with bistro fries. This, my attempt to replicate a fave from a local restaurant. The sandwich itself is lump crab meat, sauteed mushrooms and assorted white cheeses; the fries are basic french fries, twice immersed in a mix of canola oil and rendered duck fat with an hour in the fridge between. It was on the second round that the 375°F oil splattered up on me, eliciting an impressive stream of profanity and sending me running for the first aid kit. The subsequent blister is horrifying - I'll spare you the picture. The fries were good, though - I guess it's time to invest in a new deep fryer.

Rambling

Drawing a blank this morning. I could always blame the NyQuil, I suppose.

Let's see - temps climbing, snow is almost gone. My recovery continues, now to that most unpleasant phase of unproductive coughing fits, where it feels like you are ripping the lining out of your throat and your sternum is about to crack. Joy.

No immediate plans for New Year's Eve. Still pondering my aim for the coming year, probably something along the lines of definition and focus.

Trying a new bread recipe today. Might be a good time for grilled cheese for dinner.

Maybe I should just go back to bed ...

God Hates the Vikings

As a brief follow up to last week - heat was restored on Friday, but was out just long enough for me to get a cold, as predicted. Christmas day was enjoyable and modest, though the night was dreadful, being unable to either breathe or sleep, which made for a Sunday spent on the couch. Recovery is underway, now entering the brutal expectoration phase - it's going to be another long day.

Sunday on the couch means, of course, football. Last week I made the prediction, privately, that Detroit would win out the season - wish I had done it publicly now. In a story largely ignored because of the bigger playoff picture, the Lions have racked up three wins in a row, including two consecutive road victories, all guided by their second- and third-string quarterbacks. They have a long way to go, and an enormous hole to dig themselves out of, but progress is being made. A victory next week over Minnesota is looking even more likely, with the Vikes being handed a short week.

Now, I haven't paid that much attention over the years, but I don't recall any games being rescheduled because of weather - aside from Hurricane Katrina, of course - and this is the second one this year. Granted, the first one was more weather-related that the weather itself, but still. And both times it has happened to Minnesota. Coincidence? One has to wonder.

I lived in Indiana long enough to become a legitimate Colts fan, and remain so, but the truth is I am a Lions man by birth. It hasn't been easy, lord knows, but they didn't always suck - they were as good as anyone else in the early 70's. It's time for their star to rise once more, and I am committing now. I believe. Next week they finish 6-10 at home, and build from there.

Jeebus, Not Again

The last three months or so have been quiet, and nearly enjoyable, in the wake of ousting a pair of band members who were at the hub of an inordinate amount of drama and b.s. Their respective replacements were more talented and, most importantly, more psychologically stable - or at least as stable as one can be in this line of work.

Sadly, this was not to last, and in the last few weeks a whole new season of soap opera has manifested. At the root of it all, in addition to the usual stubbornness and overreaction of most parties involved, is our 16-year-old sound guy, who has been in contact with one of the ex-members. Now, I understand that this isn't entirely intentional; he is a kid, after all, and like most Kids These Days, has no concept whatsoever of privacy or discretion. His entire world is a three-inch screen, and he seems to think that everybody wants to know every single minute detail of his life, down to what he reads while wanking in the bathroom. He has, in fact, just posted his new phone number on FB. You get the idea - everything is fair game for publication, including band meetings. Immediately this alerts our ex-Drama Queen, who begins asking him questions, which he happily answers; she, in turn, begins texting and emailing all of us, stirring the pot even further. Sigh ...

I can honestly see this whole thing imploding soon. And, honestly, I don't much care at this point. The aforementioned band meeting was a complete waste of time, as band meetings usually are - everybody complains, nobody listens, and two hours later nothing has changed. The worst part is it seems to be devolving into an Us vs. Them scenario, between the two founding members and the two new members, with me stuck in the middle. I can guarantee that this is the quickest way to lose my interest and support for the project.

On the upside, a Performance Challenge. I have a gig this afternoon. A total pick-up group playing at a company Christmas party. Drummer JD knows a guy at his dayjob who is in another band, and somebody got the bright idea of having them play. Being short a few bodies, JD called me to sit in. I don't know anybody else, we've never practiced, and I just got the song list last night - it's mostly old R 'n' B. So, we're going in pretty much completely cold. Should be fun :D

Decisions

Morning earworm: Give Blood, Pete Townshend. Just did over the weekend, but that has nothing to do with it. I've always dug this song; David Gilmour (Pink Floyd) on second guitar.



So - last night's band meeting was pretty much all I expected, and less. Band meetings are, traditionally, miserable and wretched affairs that most people look forward to with as much enthusiasm as a hot coffee enema. A lot of talking, opinions offered, suggestions made, and nothing productive accomplished. I can see this not lasting much longer. I can also see it devolving into an Us vs. Them scenario between MG / JD and AV / JB, with me stuck in the middle. Whatever.

Another decision which rather snuck up on me regards what we refer to around here as the Other Site. There are about a dozen or so people I had hoped to keep in touch with when I left previously, and that really hasn't happened. The break was necessary, for numerous reasons, but I think it may be time to return, albeit on a more limited basis. I believe that I have my head straightened out sufficiently to do this without it becoming the albatross it had grown into previously. I recognize that part of this may well be ego, having apparently only one person follow me here, but in truth I do miss trolling their blogs as well. So, we'll see how it goes.

Act in private as if your behaviour were known in public.

Cliffhanger

Morning earworm: Jack Frost and the Hooded Crow, Jethro Tull. Probably my favorite Christmas song - lol.



Quite a bit going on here lately, in terms of pondering the future. Amid all of this, my other blog ended yesterday. It will resume after a couple weeks off, just as a break and reset sort of thing. Traditionally, this particular practice of journaling (properly not blogging) is undertaken as, among other things, an exercise in commitment, for a period of 1,000 days. I think it is safe to say, after eight and a half years, my commitment is reasonably established; indeed, it has arguably become more habit than discipline. So, a few weeks off before the next undertaking, to begin on New Year's Day (1.1.11) - a quick estimate will bring the new cycle to a close on or about 26 Sept 2013.

This document will remain, at least as long as I stay interested, during the hiatus. I noted in the final entry last night that with all of my contemplation on the future, my continued involvement with the band and Guitar Craft (or not) it was something of a cliffhanger ending to this cycle. Truth be told, it came to me in the real Morning Pages today that most of these decisions had already been made, possibly before the questions were even asked. This is not uncommon - A beginning is invisible, as we say.

Somewhat unrelated, it also came to me that the new year properly begins tomorrow, with the Winter Solstice (23:38 GMT). There are any number of arbitrary points by which we may mark our laps around the sun, but this one seems more appropriate to me, as a physical actuality as well as a symbolic point of reference.

Speaking of blogs / journals, the Saturday performance in NYC has been posted by the performer.

Local events have global repercussions.

Still Technically Morning

Morning earworm: Scuttle Buttin', Stevie Ray Vaughn. Rousing.



Ended up with only a couple of inches yesterday, but still enough to be inconvenient:



Wife ended up parking at the end of the road last night, so I joined her in the morning walk back, to check the mail. There was none, of course - the whole "Neither Rain Nor Sleet Nor Snow" thing apparently doesn't apply here. At any rate, I was out in this at 7:00 this morning. Ugh.

Being a good day to stay in yesterday, I did. Productive work in the Bunker, finally solving a nagging problem with the new rig, which as usual ended up being operator error. Who knew those footswitches were programmable? As is becoming the routine, all afternoon was spent in the kitchen again; the bread ended up being an all-day project, but was well worth the wait. In the interim, a bratwurst pizza was produced for dinner - fabbo, as always, if I do say so myself.

Needless to say, the band meeting was canceled, with no reschedule date yet. Works for me. I really need to get ahold of some people and put together a side project.

For now, at least the sun is out, and the temps promise to cross the freezing mark ascending. Word is the streets are clear, other than our little Back 40.

"Tomorrow" is the first lie of the Devil.

Fluffy White Evil

Morning earworm: Right Here Right Now, Jesus Jones. Heard it on the radio the other day.



Winter is at last upon us, beginning about an hour ago:

One upside - the only one, I'll venture - is that this may put a damper on tonight's band meeting. One can only hope.

Done a fair amount of soul searching over the last few days, questioning my direction, my future, and specifically my continued involvement in Guitar Craft. There are many factors at work here; the main challenge is that I am being called to do other things musically, and the growing rift I feel with many of my fellow Crafties, who are proving to be an ever more vocal bunch of bleeding-heart pinkos. I can't understand how it is that everything we have been taught is so easily abandoned when politics enters the picture. At any rate, I have a sense that it may be time to move on. Robert himself has said "For some, Guitar Craft is the Way; for others, it is a way to the Way." It would seem that I have moved into the latter category.

Ironically, it is much the same situation as with politics itself - the philosophy and system are sound, but it's practitioners have fallen woefully short.

Good habit is necessary, bad habit is inevitable.

Pass

I would refer to this as a contractually-obligated post, but there is actually no contract. Another morning derailed by the idiotic political spewing of my leftist friends. I simply cannot understand it - we've all read the same books, studied the same teachings, and yet they draw completely different conclusions than I do, most of them dangerously wrong. That isn't to say that my right-wing friends aren't just as misguided, but they typically are operating from a different base philosophy from the outset.

I have to say, for a party calling itself pro-choice, they sure like their mandates. (This in contrast to the pro-life party, which supports capital punishment and endless war).

The whole left / right, Dem / Rep thing is a simple dyad, a two term system. They are opposite sides of the same coin (which they think we owe them), two ends of the same stick - and at the end of the day, I don't much notice any difference which end of the stick is being jammed up my ...

Just When You Thought It Was Safe ...

Morning earworm: Games People Play, the Alan Parsons Project. A subliminal message, perhaps?



So, Saturday. Woke up feeling much better than Friday, but still opted to take it easy before the final show of the year. Or so I thought. Weirdness was already brewing on Friday - apparently word on the Web was that former vocalist JV wanted to come to Saturday's show and possibly sit in. Awkward, but not unheard of. We did extend the offer when she left, but it was kind of one of those polite things you just say, reasonably certain that they will never take you up on it. I didn't think anything of it at the time. Current vocalist AV did, it seems, and by mid-afternoon Saturday she had flaked out and bailed on the gig. A few texts were exchanged between her and JD & MG, and I eventually got a Facebook message from her, to the effect that Sorry, but I can't go through (the campground debacle) again, please don't hate me. So, after a few phone calls, we ended up canceling at the last minute. JV, incidentally, later texted that she wouldn't be there after all, completely oblivious to all of this. So, a night off. This is, of course, putting the good face on the fact that I lost a paycheck and we'll probably never play that room again. I thought we were through with the drama ...

To say that I am disappointed is an understatement. I understand her position, and indeed can fully appreciate it; but I had expected better from her. There is the dreaded Band Meeting on Thursday, when hopefully everyone can get everything out in the open and get things squared away. Unfortunately, I have the sense that this is going to involve the Grizzled Veteran Gigster / Voice of Reason and Experience (i.e. me) delivering the lecture on How Things Work. To everyone.

There are no guarantees in this line of work, especially in these times of economic woe. Our current trajectory of playing the animal clubs is decent money, but ultimately a dead end, and we have very nearly already reached it. There are no appropriate venues for us to play here in town unless we play for next to nothing, which I am not willing to do no matter how many of your friends will show up. And several other Unfortunate Truths about the music business at the bottom of the food chain.

We have three rights: the right to work, the right to pay to work, and the right to suffer the consequences of our work.
We have three obligations: the obligation to work, the obligation to pay to work, and the obligation to suffer the consequences of our work.

Roll With The Changes

Morning earworm: I'll Find My Way, the Derek Trucks Band. Bit of a mood shift, but still cool.



A rough day yesterday all around. Woke up feeling like total crap - nose running like a faucet, pounding headache, long brutal sneezing fits. Ugh. Always on a gig night, too. My first thought is ginger tea, but we have no ginger. Lemon-honey tea, then. No lemons, either. I had already loaded the van and hooked up the trailer, so I wasn't going to the store. We have limes, so let's see how lime-honey tea works. I don't recommend it - kind of like a hot margarita. Still, the vitamin C was there. Finally, in a fit of desperation, a half-shot of NyQuil before an extended nap. Some combination of all of these things worked, and I was feeling almost human by the time I arrived at the gig.

The challenges remained, though, spending much of the night wrestling with dead batteries and broken strings. These were met with surprising aplomb, considering that it is not something I often have to endure, thanks to regular gear maintenance. Well, that and it's been a long time since I've used anything that took batteries - I see a power supply in my near future.

Back in the day, as a young gigster, these sort of pitfalls were commonplace; you learn to deal with them and move on. Swapping out dead pedals in mid-song was just another job skill you developed, as was finishing the set on five strings. Or so I thought. Apparently nobody else in the band has ever seen this, and was totally gobsmacked that I did the last three songs of the night without a B string. It is a bit tricky, but as I mentioned yesterday, you just have to turn of the auto-pilot. All of the notes are still there, they just aren't where you are used to them being, so you have to pay attention to what you're doing. Some people even do stuff like this on purpose, just to keep themselves fresh - drummer Bill Bruford used to have his roadie set his kit up differently very night, to avoid getting into a habit / rut. I'll admit that's a bit extreme, but it doesn't hurt to be prepared for the curve ball that is inevitably going to come your way :D

The highest quality of attention we may give is love.

Pre-Game Ritual

Morning earworm: Peruvian Skies, Dream Theater. A top-10 all-time fave.




I don't much like the new widgets - too big and obtrusive. Once more, a steaming pile handed to us and called an upgrade.

So, Friday again. The final two shows of the 2010 season. While updating the website yesterday, I discovered that we have 18 gigs booked for next year already - in the 21st Century, this is job security.

For lack of anything better this morning, a discussion of the Pregame Ritual. It is commonly known in sports circles that many players superstitiously go through a set routine before games. I confess I do this as well on gig days, though more from practicality (and habit) as superstition. To begin, we ask the question When does the performance begin? It is, in fact, well before hitting the stage. For me, it begins sometime that morning. I tend to do very little on that day, since I am ordinarily a morning person and I know it will be a late night, usually with significant driving involved; so, take it easy. At some point between 10:00 and noon, I go down to the Bunker and pack up my gear. Make sure I have everything - even as stripped down as my rig is currently, it remains of sufficient complexity that one missing piece will scuttle the whole thing. Plus, it is an exercise in focus, the beginning of the mental process for the performance. From there, loading out to the van. Again, focus - it is a bit like moving, a bit like a jigsaw puzzle; there is a certain way everything goes in to maximize space available. As long as I am out, I usually hook up the trailer at this point too, so everything is ready for departure.

Once this is done, a light lunch, an optional Epsom salt bath and a nap. Upon arising, a shower and personal grooming. This is the point that I am "on". Get dressed, including black underwear for the gig. Not superstition, but symbolic - I don't normally wear this, so it is part of the uniform, and more importantly an act of intention. Deliberately disengaging the autopilot we usually go through life on. Grab the stage clothes (never set up in what you are going to wear, it will only get dirty) and guitar (which doesn't get left in the vehicle under any circumstances, even at home, and especially in this weather) and head out the door, stepping over the threshold with the left foot first. Again, an act of intention - it doesn't matter so much what you do, just that you do it consciously and deliberately. This is also how I step onto the stage. It is all about focus. There are nights when one gets distracted, or just ignores the process, and suddenly you realize you are halfway through the third song of the set and you don't even realize how you got there. Recovery is possible, but the opportunity for a proper beginning is lost.

There are, of course, variations on this - usually if somebody is riding with me - but for the most part, this is a typical Friday here at Lake Arecibo.

Begin with the possible and move gradually towards the impossible.

Elegant Simplicity

Morning earworm: The Sound of Muzak, Porcupine Tree - a great song, though painfully true.



Much time both yesterday and this morning pondering further gear issues; I'll spare you the details, as your heads are probably still spinning from yesterday's post - lol. Let's just say that a potential trainwreck had appeared, and during the wee hours a simple and elegant solution presented itself, which means yet another week spent rewiring my looping rig. So it goes. I'm sure I've mentioned elsewhere that I secretly have as much fun doing this as I do playing.

Equally elegant and simple: last night's dinner. Specifically, I think I have finally mastered gravy. I have also mentioned elsewhere my curious history, in that I mostly learned to cook from watching tv, which has produced somewhat lopsided results - I can do tea-smoked duck legs and mushroom-orzo ragout in my sleep, but simple stuff like salads are a complete mystery to me. Up until now, gravies have fallen into the latter category. I have a functional knowledge of the process, but have only just now gotten the ratio / recipe right - 2 Tbsp each butter and flour for the roux to 1½ cups of stock, beef in this case. And seasoning, of course; something of a secret weapon there is that I have gotten wonderful results using my garlicky ancho chile spice rub, of all things. Combined with the steamed-and-riced method for mashed potatoes, I had a side dish that nearly overshadowed the venison meatloaf, it was so good.

Now, I am faced with what to do tonight. After some consideration, I am leaning toward buffalo shrimp, though it may involve making a fresh batch of mojo de ajo. It doesn't necessarily, but I need to anyway, and it does make it even better :D

Discard the superfluous.

Another Rambling Gear Post

Morning earworm: Bridge of Sighs, Robin Trower. This one has been lurking around in my head for a few days now, and for a reason. That distinctive swirling, trippy guitar sound comes from an oddball pedal known as the Univox Uni-Vibe. A curious thing, the Uni-Vibe - it isn't really a chorus, or a phaser, or a rotary speaker simulator, but some weird hybrid of them all, with its own unique sound. Trower is most readily identified with it; Hendrix had one, and a few others.

And I just scored one on eBay :D

OK, actually I got a newer model made by Voodoo Labs, a faithful reproduction but of much sturdier and more reliable construction - this was 1960's technology, after all. Still, it represents among other things the final piece of my new pedalboard, which will hopefully be up and running when we resume gigging next month.

Looking back, I notice with some amusement that I have come full circle with my stage rig. Twenty-five years ago I hit the road with a 1976 Fender Strat, a homemade pedalboard containing a volume pedal, Vox CryBaby Wah, Ibanez Tube Screamer, MXR Flanger, and an old Univox tape delay, run into a MusicMan HD-130 Reverb amp with a MusicMan 4x12 cabinet. Over the years this has evolved through a variety of guitars, amps, and multi-fx units, including several which ran direct to the PA, using no amp at all. Today - technically within the next month - I have assembled what I consider the best sounding system to date: a 1996 Fender Deluxe Strat Plus, a homemade pedalboard containing a volume pedal, Vox 847A Wah, Boss CS-3 Compressor, Soundblox Classic Distortion (set on the Tube Screamer model), Voodoo Labs Micro-Vibe, and a Boss RC-20 Loop Station, running into a Digitech TSR-24S multi-fx (for modulation and delay), feeding into the very same 30-year-old MusicMan HD-130 Reverb amp with a Peavey 4x12 cabinet.

I realize this means absolutely nothing to most of you - lol - but I am stoked. Maybe I should do a little video when I get this all together to explain what all of these gadgets do. In the meantime, thanks for your patience :D

The musician has three disciplines: the disciplines of the hands, the head and the heart.

Off the Road Again

Morning earworm: a new section of Shape of the World, to be worked on this week. Can't provide a link, as it doesn't exist outside of my head yet. It could be worse - yesterday I woke up with Les Paul & Mary Ford's Mockingbird Hill on the endless loop. That'll get on your nerves in a hurry - lol.

So, it was quite a weekend. Seems crazy in retrospect - 300 miles for a one hour show - but it was worth it in so many ways. Catching up and reconnecting with a number of old friends, some of whom traveled even farther that we did. There was, of course, a measure of adventure involved - I don't know that I'm ready for The Amazing Race, but my skills seem to be intact, despite not traveling much in recent years. The drive up was pretty uneventful; it still amazes me how close together everything is on this side of the country. Having spent my adult life either on the Left Coast or in the vast plains of the Midwest, I have difficulty grasping that DC, Baltimore, Philadelphia and NYC are all on the same highway and only 1-2 hours apart.

Travel time is relative, though. It was nearly 1.5 hours from our hotel to the show, and the venue was nearly visible from our room. The map said it was ten miles. Working the system, we caught the free shuttle from the hotel to Newark Airport; from there, another shuttle bus into midtown Manhattan, a walk of a few blocks and finally a city bus downtown. Adventurous I may be, but I am quite glad that I chose not to drive that particular leg of the journey. My initial impression of the Big Apple is that it is claustrophobic. The legendary "concrete canyons" are as oppressive as they are imposing; everything is packed in so tightly and is so congested with both foot and vehicular traffic that it almost feels like a Third World city. Granted, this was Times Square, which rivals anything in Las Vegas for sensory overload. It wasn't quite as bad when we got downtown to the Financial District; being a Saturday, this was almost deserted by comparison. Indeed, the World Financial Center (the show venue) nearly looked closed, and may of the shops inside were. We were finally able to locate an open restaurant, on the recommendation of a friend we encountered there; a great meal with a delightful view of the harbor.

The performance itself, in the WFC Winter Garden, was exceptional, though the room itself was a bit challenging - it would be a bit like playing at a Mall; there was a fair amount of foot traffic through the space, mostly respectful but there were a few clueless individuals as always. One woman in particular comes to mind, charging through directly behind us during an especially quiet passage in heels that made her sound like a team of Clydesdales. Still, an amazing show, as always. There was surprisingly little weird energy, which I thought might be a bit of a concern, inasmuch as the far end of the performance space is a huge window looking out over the crater and constructions sight of Ground Zero.

On second thought, I can at least provide some sense of the performance.

I could see going back sometime and doing some tourist stuff, when the weather warms up, but all in all, if I feel the need for the Big City experience, I feel much more at home in Chicago.

Yoiks! and Away!

Morning earworm: Don't Let the Rain Come Down, the Serendipity Singers. It's Pledge Drive time again in PBS world, and I made the mistake of watching their Brief History of Folk Music the other night. Amid the protest songs and no less than three different versions of Turn! Turn! Turn!, we were subjected to this silliness from the early days. Please make it stop!

http://listen.grooveshark.com/s/Don_t_Let_The_Rain_Come_Down/22T8DP

It seems Grooveshark has changed their interface - and as with most upgrades, it doesn't seem to be an improvement. So it goes.

Hoping for a quiet day today, occupied mostly with laundry and packing. I generally go for this on gig days anyway, because I'm just that way; adding the final travel arrangements to the mix shouldn't be too much trouble. Fortunately, tonight will be relatively early - with a good load-out we should be out by midnight, which would ideally get me to bed around 1:30, enough for an early rise and out the door by 7:00. If the gods of travel and traffic smile upon us, we should make the room around 14:00, which would allow a brief nap before navigating the public transit connections to the show, with enough time for a bit of touristry and dinner beforehand. With that many Crafties in one place, I imagine there will be some sort of gathering afterward. The big question currently is Sunday - there is a good chance that the Wife may not have to work Monday, which would allow us an extra day there. There is also a rumor that TG will be holding a workshop on Sunday, which would be uber-cool, but potentially involve stranding the Wife for part of the day, which is not so cool, though she could potentially attend as well. We'll see what happens.

The quality of the question determines the quality of the answer.

The Reward For This Work Is More Work

Morning earworm: Acid Rain, Liquid Tension Experiment - this is why I have a 7-string.



In an unusual burst of ambition, I got most everything done yesterday that I have been dragging on for the last week - the work room in the Bunker is cleaned and organized, the bass loops on Shape have been recorded. I now find myself faced with a bit of "Now what?" Been procrastinating for so long that the next step has become obscured - lol.

There is plenty to be done today though. Reasonably-priced lodging has been secured for the weekend, and I now find myself poring over transportation options. A cab from the hotel to the venue is going to run around $50 by all accounts; there is a shuttle bus for half that, but it only stops in Midtown, which is some thirty-two blocks from our destination. And apparently the City That Never Sleeps also doesn't run their ferries on the weekends - what's up with that? Guess I check the city bus schedule next. I could always drive, too, but God only knows what parking is going to be like there. But hey - we're going, so I shouldn't complain too much :D

We may do whatever we like, providing we can pay the bill.

December Already?

Morning earworm: Closer to the Heart, Rush. Going to be a good day :)



Much as expected, not a lot accomplished yesterday, but for once I'm not complaining. It was, if anything, what a weekend day is like when you aren't too fried to enjoy it. Feeling sufficiently energized now to get on with it today.

An added bonus - the Wife seemed amenable to my spur of the moment idea of a road trip to New York this weekend. Not as capricious as it may sound; my Teacher is playing a rare solo show, and upon checking out, I discovered it isn't quite as far as I had thought - a mere 6.5 hour drive. Considering I have friends flying in from Chicago and even Austin to attend the event, that isn't so bad, even after a Friday night gig in Richmond. We will just be heading up on Saturday, and probably only catch the final show, but it is still worth it. Word on the street is that Tony G will be doing a workshop on Sunday; this too would be worth attending, if it meshes with the schedule. Will have to catch up with some of the other attendees for details.

Signposts are useful when you know where you're going.