Another post?

I suck at keeping up with this blog.

That said, when I actually have time to sit and post, I generally have nothing to say.

The band is still in the process of retracking the album. On Friday the status was four songs left for the album that needed guitar work, two songs that needed the organ, and two new demos that needed guitars. On Saturday, I learned that we're going to rerecord one of the songs for the third time (the drums are still unsatisfactory.) That took the demos out of the equation since we can rerecord them as well and hopefully get a better couple of tracks out of the next drum session.

With that news, I went out to the studio yesterday to finish off guitar and organ tracks. It went well. Better and faster than I had expected. I had to make up a new part for "Believe" (what a cheesy title) with the organ since I don't play that part live ever. Something or something, I got the chords down and then took a couple stabs at it before I got it close to good. (good enough)

I had been having some thoughts about "The Moment" and the original guitar part that I play live. Changing it up, dropping it off this recorded version entirely. The organ holds down those same chords so it sort of makes that track redundant. The ambient slide space noise additives over the verses got a little more "rowdy" this time around and it bleeds into the guitar solo section. It's slowly becoming the song I envisioned it last February. (I could even go out and record some walking on snow and city noise to throw in there... hmmm. Maybe.) I decided to add a lead part over the second verse and will probably revisit the song on my next trip out there. Some lead-in noise in A minor??? Sure.

"Transfusion" went smoothly except for the solo. I've never had a set idea for that solo. It's just an attempt at making noise that sometimes comes off great and most times leaves me mad at myself for not actually writing one. (Prescribed solos are so boring though!) I have a starting point and an ending, but I never know where to go in the middle. Something with at least three notes to add texture...

This means that now I've got "USA #1" left to track. Yuck! It's one of the first songs I wrote for this band. Lots of delay. Requires some precise timing with the rhythm section that they're not up to speed on yet. Once the drums, bass, and guitars are tracked for that song, it's then only one session to set up automation on the guitars with studio effects and finally time to put the vocals down.

We started this damn project last February. February 2nd.

One year later... still not done, (but it sounds a lot better this time.)

We have seven new songs that are musically complete. Three new ideas that we are assembling and working out still. If we used all of those songs we could record the second album real soon. Put it out the same time we put ot the first one... Sure. (Chinese Democracy anyone?)

But enough about the band... even though that's what I spend most of my time working on.

The "Holiday" season is almost over. Pretty soon, I'll be able to go to work for five days and then work for the band for two. Gym four nights a week. The normal routine. No out of town guests. No days off in the middle of the week. No closing down bars and working in the morning. Just a mindless gear-turning as the saturnic return nears and passes... oh boy.

Fuck Christmas!

I've been playing "Matchmaker" today. I don't know how I feel about that... somewhere between excited and Jealous.

When's hype gunna get the run'in? WHEN?

All in all... Fuck Christmas. Total bullshit waste of time holiday. I'd rather be driving a semi acrost frozen lakes in Ontario than sit around and watch the greatest Christmas Movie EVER!!!

I knew those southerners were totally backwards in re: superstition, but a Christmas Witch? Hell's Yeah... that's the kind of religious defecation I can get a'behind!

(drunkenly) BOO-Yah!

Christmas Cheer

I always think of that TV Funhouse Christmas episode when this stupid holiday rolls around. It's the one where the Anipals perform a spinal tap on Doug the Host to draw out his Christmas Cheer... which they proceed to freebase and the go out caroling in Times Square.

If only Christmas was really like that.

Instead it consists of sitting around at my parents like a miserable convict stuck in a cell. (MC Chris is a bird, Debbie. You can't cage a bird.)

Back when life was simple

In an attempt to distract myself from the wonderful day of sitting and staring this one has seemed to want to become, I started checking out the old Onion archives.

Man did that take me back. Sitting in the video room with The Song Remains the Same taped off of VH1 playing on the small television during study hall reading the week's news.

Shit. Back then, they had two offices. One in Madison and one in Boulder.... Good times.

"Some nights I'm so touched by the KidCares feature that I break down and cry in my TV dinner. I just can't get enough of those anchors!"

"Some days der ragged, emaciated bodies of ze junkies are staked up in ze back like corpses," says von Kreutzen. "But even zat has its roots in German culture!"

"When I come to schools to talk to kids about the importance of dragon safety, one of the first things I tell them is, always be sure to turn around completely if you think a dragon is stalking you,"

"Despite fully expecting to defeat the rich kids and learn something about themselves in the process, the only thing the Camp Winnepesaukee underdogs learned was that they were too poor and outmanned ever to stand a chance."

"let's say that those men were willing to risk arrest and a $110 fine for public drinking. They certainly would have taken the extra 10 seconds to make it a little less obvious by simply pouring the alcohol into a soda can or paper cup or something."

Re: who brought the "sorry" to the party?

Just a quick note here: this was a series of email exchanges between Travis and myself sparked off by Misty's email. We were generous enough to "CC" all of the other recipients in on our exchange.

misty wrote:

Hey Guys

Just wanted to send the reminder for tomorrow night. You can come anytime after 8pm. (Zach will this give you enough time for your work thing?)

Let me know if you need directions to my place.

Hope to see you all there!

Misty


Travis Wrote back:

word. should i bring anything? you know, like, food-wise?

napkins?

people always need napkins. (and the person who brings them is usually "the hit" of the party). i mean, i likely would be anyway...

will there be intoxicants? not that i need them to have to good time or anything...because i don't...i just need them to have a good time around other people...

thanks for the invite and the hospitality...

travis

Then I wrote:

Der...

should I bring the napkins?

Der...

Travis' reply to me:

your royal hypeness...

are you mocking me and my light-hearted (yet heartfelt) attempt at a little holiday humor while still trying to be helpful?

i call that "multi-tasking"...you should look into it...i already have a little "multi-tasking" you can try at home or even right now...its called "perch and rotate", homes...

let me know if it doesn't take...

and no, you can't (because you're insecure)...i'm already bringing the napkins (and the funk)...

My response to Travis:

Mr. Xxxxxxx,

That's all good and well. The perch and rotate did in fact take quite fittingly... thanks for you helpful (and heartfelt) suggestion.

Now as for what I am to bring then to this gathering, I'm thinking that I'll be bringing along "the class". I wouldn't expect someone such as yourself to even know where to begin to find something so foreign in the wastelands you called home (Mxxxxx County). (And no, working as a taxi service for the Amish does not count.)

But all politeness aside, I strongly suggest that you multi-task your ass back to charm school for a few more weeks so as to learn proper etiquette for attending a dear friend's festive holiday gathering without offending, insulting, and generally reeking of fetid onions and body odor.

See you then.

Zach "Hype"

Travis' latest response:

my dearest mr. "hype" Xxxxxxx

my polite indignation knows no bounds...

thanks, a suggestion is nothing if it doesn't have "heart"...

glad to know you'll be bringing the "class" (all of it 3rd? coach? what are you gonna do? sing "puttin' on the ritz"?). one less thing for me to carry...i'll be bringing the "substance" (and extra napkins) and setting the room on fire with my enthralling (if personally distant) conversational abilities...i may also try to bring some "charm"...that's a huge maybe though...

on the charm subject...i have attended "charm school" via correspondence...i have a certificate coming in the mail...and if i can't attend a holiday gathering with insulting and offending others (see my "awesome" fondue puns on misty's b-day) then what is really the point of getting together at all?

oh yeah...the food...and napkins... and texas.

warmest regards and best wishes travis xxxxxxx xxxxxxx

Then Travis wrote this: (for all the other people who have a bunch of emails in their inbox from Travis and me)

yeah...sorry about that...as you (misty) may very well know, sometimes
the correspondence betwix zach and "yours truly" can take on a life of
its own...i'm sorry you all had to be a part of that ugliness.  don't
fret none, fellow partaygoers, zach and i will "make nice" at the party
like nothing ever happened...(but deep down, we'll all know...)

travis "the secret ingredient" xxxxxxx

Vandals in the parking lot

"Hey bros it's been a while since I rapped at ya..." I've got my excuses. Mostly bad ones. But an excuse is just a reason you haven't accepted yet.

Or how about this one? "It's not that the good times end, they just turn into other good times." I think I screwed that one up. What's the one about rats? Oh yeah... "Rat Stevens" That's almost as bad as Ferrett Bueler or Paws Skaggs.

So what's the point of all of this? Nothing. (you know what I like about you? Nothing!)

I've been busy recording demos for the band. We have seven new songs that are complete without lyrics. Danny and Travis want recorded copies of these songs to rehearse with (this means electro drums for Travis and Bass Lines for Danny) and Joe doesn't really seem to give a damn about finishing these songs. I've been fuming about that most of the morning. Now I'm fuming about it here. Consider yerself shat upon. Then there's the two other ideas Travis has and a smattering of ideas I come up with and then forget. All that and nothing to show for it.

But I went to a 'battle" of the bands that didn't really incorporate much battl'n on Sunday night and felt that had "the i" been a part of it, we would have taken second. (behind Know Boundaries who were the clear winners by a long shot.) But it's in the past and I'm in the now. (And the local music scene here is an insular joke anyway.)

Since last week, I've been reading a book by Brad Hooker called Ideal Code, Real World. It deals with rule-consequentialism moral theory. I'm reading it to write a short paper to get an even shorter paper and I'm not going to try to explain it at this point because I don't feel like I've got a good grasp on the topic yet. Which leads into the fact that I've discovered something interesting about myself. Now that I'm not in college, I really want this paper to mean something, and not just to the audience (professor) but to myself. Several years ago, I would have read the book, cranked out a ten pager and handed it in without even bothering to proofread. There were quite a few times when I re-read a paper after I got it back that made me say, "I wrote this? This is way to intelligent to be my paper."

But this time, I want to actually know what the argument I'm positing is after the paper is shipped off to it's recipient. I would like to be able to explain to someone who doesn't give a damn about this kind of shit (moral theory/metaethics) on an academic level what it is the author proposed and what I agree and disagree with. It just takes a lot more effort to focus.

But what else am I going to do? Write lyrics for Joe? No, that's his job. (how much more of this slacking do I tolerate from him before I decide to fire his ass? Today wouldn't be a good day to ask that question.)

Don't want to believe it

Two night this week I've spent working on a song. A christmas song. A terrible christmas song... and the initial tracks are all in the can. Travis and I got together on Monday night and wrote out the chord structures for the verse and bridge and penned the basic lyric outline. Last night we got together and recorded acoustic guitars, drums, electric guitars, bass and some sleigh bells along with two sketchy vocal tracks. Yours truly singing lead and Count Trav-u-la adding the backing vocals on the chorus. I'm still working out the mix. I think it could use a jangly piano to go with it, but that's probably not going to happen unless I feel really ambitious. (Probably not going to happen.)

Again, let me remind you, IT'S TERRIBLE!!! so before you go clamoring for a copy of it, think real hard...

And now I'm going to get all detailed on ya'll. The acoustic guitars got scrapped on account of the insane action of my guitar. Every time I played through the song, I kept screwing up a chord change here or there. Nothing major, but it still didn't flow as nicely as it should have. After that, I sat down on my drum kit and played a boring beat that didn't really have much purpose behind it. It's been quite some years since I've seriously played drums. It's probably been a couple months since I even sat down and hit the skins for more than a few minutes. My chops are shot and my timing is rusty. The ideas are there but the execution is sub-par so we scrapped that idea too.

After that, I decided that I wanted to use my electric. I just plugged straight through my processor with a modeled fender preamp tone. It's not the real thing but it has a nice simulated quality to it. Travis dropped his bass track after than and then it was sleigh bell time.

The vocals are kinda all over the place. I didn't really establish a melody and winged it while reading the lyrics. One pass at the song with several breaks to get my entry note right. The chorus ends up in a different key than the verse (or at least the way I hear it) so I was singing the wrong note when I came back from the chorus. Travis put down the backing vocals with a nice Dylan-esque stamp. One take.

But enough about my boring night last night.

Tonight is "the big game". I'm going to be glad when it's over. I'm sick of hearing "two ten and one teams", blah, blah blah... There's been a big to do about Charter not carrying "the enn" in the area. There's been all kinds of ads on radio, television, and in print about how this company sucks or that company sucks but in the end, I think it boils down to one thing.


$$$


and when it's all about money, in the back of my mind I can't help but think that there's something else I should be doing. Something more constructive. Something that doesn't require me to listen to Madden and Michaels (or even worse Gumpbell and Collinsworth) yammer on about how much they want to get in bed with Brady and Moss or Romo and Owens.

I'll still be watching the game. I made plans to go to a local public house and get an average bowl of chili and a beer and sit with a bunch of people who are going to get "real depressed" after the game is over (outcome dependent) (unlike me who will at some point get depressed during the game about the fact that I'm sitting there watching it. Emphasis on watching.)

but first things first. Of to the gym to get rid of some stress.

Re: a better pen pal...

This is a somewhat mundane exchange but there's some "gem lines" in here. We are discussing plans to get together for a writing session for the band as well as plans for Thanksgiving at the Ranch (and I am also talking about video games.)

----- I Wrote -----

Travis,
I think I was better off not going to see (Scott) Beo-WHA?.. but I saw it anyway. It's alright but not great. I have decided I want to have relations with a tomb-raider-lips demon and then have my spawn terrorize my village/kingdom. (What kind of wicked spawn would my seed produce? That is Question I should not have posited.)

(Quotational overuse alert!)

Tonight, I have erronously made plans to "hang out" with some friends from "High" School. We are "Going" to get "dinner" and then make "mashed potatos & confetti salsa" (not what you hope it is... neither confetti served as "salsa" or salsa used as "confetti")

...so I'm going to head to the gym right-short after work, speed home and obtain my bestickered guitar, return to the ithsmuths for dinner and then perchance meet you at the rehearsal space around eight? I forgot about our deal for this evening as I was hurrying to get to the theater last night after a "Killer" back workout all-the-while conversing with my friend about her visit to "Mad-City" for the holy-day. I think it was the endorphines... I was a little loopy last night... forgot.

You dig?

Z

--- Travis wrote: -----
> zach...
>
>i still have those mother gem jams running thru my
> head...bbb...bbb..bbb...beats!
>
> i'm thinking of e-mailing her, but i have no clue as
> to what i would say...
>
> i don't want to make you rush your plans this
> eve...if you would rather put jamming off or whatnot
> its fine by me...not saying that i wouldn't want to
> work on things; but its really up to you...i don't
> want to be out/up too late in any regard as i/we
> need a fast start tomorrow...(never too late to get
> one).
>
> speaking of which, we should most likely start
> cementing those plans now...takes about two hours to
> get up there...i'd like to be there all day to hang
> with family, sorry if that would bore you...we'll
> have football to entertain us...which starts at
> 11:30, so maybe meet at my place and leave around 9
> or so? ideas? we could meet earlier and have
> breakfast, since the meal will be later in the
> day...i can feel the cement starting to dry...
>
> have to go back to coding, chat more later
> trs13

---- I responded ----

HC-13

If it's up to me, I would rather stay up a little late (as I will be doing so anyway... those MVP awards don't get handed out like divorce certificates or hydrocodone 'scripts...) but if you want to bag it early than that's okay too. (Not really.)

Here's the scoop though. My friend is leaving Joliet and heading this way probably right now. Baring traffic and weather, she should arrive around 6:30 or so. But I think she's not counting on the traffic being as bad as I think it's going to be.

Maybe we can get together early? Say six? Call it after a few hours. I don't know. Oh wait, what did my horrorscope say? Be firm and direct with what you want today/keep a low profile.

I am not opposed to breakfast in the a.m. tomorrow. (I'm never opposed to breakfast, you know that. "It's like we're married. 'What are you doing? You don't like shrimp!'" Especially bacon. Bacon pureed with coffee and ice cream what a delicious breakfast shake that would be. Funnel Cakes? Tomb raider lips intact? Check.)

I'll meet you at the 114 at 6.30. Does that work? It better. I'll head over to the other thing at about eight. From there, I'll hang out till ten, head home and finish off the regular 2007 season. (Since when did Junior Seau play for the 'Skins? Douchebag=Junior Seau!) (11-3, 4500+ yards passing, 1500+ yards rushing. MONSTER OFFENSE!!! My rush defense has held opponents to 600 yards but my pass defense sucks. The fact that I outscore everyone makes that a moot point. But on the flip side, I've got something like 40 interceptions from my corners and safeties. Crazy mad stat party. I really should up the difficulty settings but then it would be a challenge and I'm not really in this for the challenge (if I was, I would be playing NHL '04), I get enough of that in my daily routine (yeah right). It's all about stomping the shit out of someone on the field with ease, to relax.)

But back to breakfast, are there going to be any places open for breakfast? Think about it...

Six thirty? You on? You in? You out? (Turn on, Tune in, Hulk out.) Vintage.

Z-Hype

I keep thinking this is about that Ben Folds song...

...even though it's not. I wouldn't mind living on Not the Same Street.

If feeling under the weather is the mode of the week, then I'm best served with ice cream.

Don't have a whole lot of time or much to say recently. Actually, I have a lot to say but I'm venting/airing those things (mostly band related) via emails that I've not looted for a post... maybe I'll do that tomorrow...

The Holiday is going to be spent in Sparta on 'the Ranch' with Travis and his family. My family is hanging out with another family with which I don't really relish spending time. They're nice enough people and all but I think I'm just a hair off the mark when it comes to midwest middle class acceptable norms.

But I did read this today. Nice contrast. Maybe I should be on prozac. (Would it hurt?)

Montana Pictures

I think the way I'm going to do this is post a few pictures now and then of my trip to Montana. I don't have a whole lot to say right now. The band is gearing up, getting busy for some upcoming shows and tracking guitars and holidays and so on... These are some scenic pics.

A view on Cokedale Road

Paradise Valley, Looking up Mill Creek Canyon from East River Road

The ever so "scenic" Laurel, MT. This is what I think of when I think of Laurel. Coal Refinery plants.

Looking north from up on the Wineglass. Off in the distance you can see a hazy mound of the Crazy Mountains.

A shot of Baldy (Livingston Peak) from Cokedale Road. I used my panoramic feature to string two photos together.

Cough

I can't rally the mustard to get this thing going today. I feel like a cat that's ready for some poor fool to try and pet me. Let's see how sharp these claws really are.

But enough about me.

Go see this movie. Or don't. I can't really say I would suggest either film.

Shit...

I'm just going to stop this now, smoke a damn cigarette and head to the gym.

All I Need

"I'm in the middle of your picture lying in the reeds"

I promised a story about the haunted house. That was ages ago. It doesn't even seem relevant now that everyone is getting their fucking Easter shit out, but tonight's a great night for going home to the cat and dog, slipping into the hot tub for a while, then falling asleep watching television while laying on the floor in front of the fire. (Oh wait, that was years/lifetimes ago.) How 'bout I just tell the damn story. Yeah? No? Too bad. (on or off? to baaaadddddd)

We (the five of us in our party) met at a bar a few blocks from the building that was hosting this fiasco awaiting to step forth. I was the last to arrive (naturally) due to some unexpected circumstances which will not be expanded on other than the phrase "unexpected dinner invitation/old friend from out of town".

Everyone was one up on the drinks end of the spectrum so they let me play catch up. Cans of broth were handed out, and stuff was talked about. Some guy was talking to us about "West Coast" or something. He was throwin' sets but I couldn't hear what he was saying. Just noise.

We walked down the street to the place and realized several things. We were the oldest people there (and we're not THAT old. Old enough to know better, sure.) The M____ and D____ forgot their canned food item. In line, a girl walks down the row and tells us that from where we are, it'll be about an hour wait. There was time to go get the food and make it back for the unpredictable "Awesome-ness" that was going to scare the hell out of us. I mean, I would expect nothing less from a place that had so many grim reapers with glow-in-the-dark scythes roaming around... and a guy in a clown mask stroking what appeared to be a soiled cabbage patch doll.

As we neared the front of the queue we had to pay the entrance fee and fill out a raffle ticket. I didn't want to enter the raffle on the grounds that the only lottery I play is the death lotto. (No one remembers that one) The friendly girls taking our cans of broth laughed a little but it was that nervous, you're creeping me the fuck out kind of laugh--usual routine from someone who would have liked Edie Brickell if they had been around in those days. There was merchandise shit that they were giving away but best of all, there was a flier for a Halloween Wearhouse with all kinds of models wearing those cliched sexy insert-occupation-here costumes. On the front page? Sexy Bee. "Watch out for that stinger. Yowzaa!"

We edged closer the elevator that was going to take us to our doom when yet another girl came up and asked us how many were in our party (like we were in line for a ski lift... that would have been better.) We said five and she moved on down the line. Once it was our turn to get on, she comes back with some old guy that looked like he was going as Hans Moleman for the holiday, except he wasn't in costume. We had our sixth member. A fellowship. No bond would be stronger.

On the elevator, they had some pleasant tunes and some scary tunes playing at the same time. Not bad. I couldn't help but laugh at the pleasant music. Classic. Our descent had begun.

We strolled from room to room, lead by a rather short grim reaper carrying one of those glow in the dark scythes I mentioned earlier. She had this tendency of staring us down. All I could do was crack a huge-assed grin and giggle at her. Poor girl. I bet she hated us. I bet she wished that scythe was metal, but not necessarily sharp. Each room had some scary scene. A less world weary group would have been respectful of the effort, but not us. Lots of smartass comments and interaction with the actors. (One room had a guy playing an out of tune piano. I started singing "The Piano Man")

Anyway. The stage is set and there's a point that I need to bring up. As we went down one poorly lit hallway, there was a mattress on the floor that was meant to befuddle those who didn't see it and the stumbled over it. Mr. Moleman ate it pretty good. I didn't see it but I heard J___ help him up. No big deal, he fell onto a mattress.

We went into a larger room that had been sectioned off with blankets to make a sort of maze. This was the clown room. Clowns are scary. Right? I mean, that guy had the cabbage patch doll. That's scary too... right? Okay. There's some Tool playing as we walk in and we're all kinda getting disinterested with the whole thing. Clowns keep emerging from the labyrinth to freak us out. We weren't afraid of them so it wasn't terrifying. Or so we thought.

We walk into this area where suddenly there's super loud Korn blasting, a fan blowing, a strobe light flashing, mirrors, and some clowns behind glass, commotion, and a body on the floor.

Moleman went down. Smacked his head on a cinder block wall.

No one realized what had happened. There was suddenly a crumpled body on the floor. Our guide disappeared and the house lights came on and clowns with their masks up started coming in from all directions. We helped the guy up and took him to a chair so he could sit and then we were all standing there watching some staff member check him for a concussion. It was serious but he seemed to be okay.

At that point, I was thinking, "We should get out of here. We don't need to be here. How the hell do I get out of here. Fuck it, I'm getting out of here now." Right before I took action, M_____ piped up and asked if we should go. Someone else was thinking the same thing...

We escorted ourselves out past the rest of the terror and found our way outside at which point someone said, "Of course this would only happen to us." Then we all started to lose it, laughing at the absurdity of all that had just happened. Speculation about the man being planted started to arise. Questions about what actually happened came up. The events were pieced together. We figured out most of it. Were we responsible? I'm not telling.

They eventually called an ambulance. We saw it from down the street, back at the bar. He must not have been planted. Just some random stranger who had his world rocked by a haunted house and some friends loosely associated with a local band.

We got our broth's worth. At least I can say that....

*******

In retrospect, it was a lot funnier right after it had happened. So I hyped it up and there's your big let-down. Feeling deflated? Good.

I'll get to the pictures from the trip tonight and the stories about that may or may not come out. It's still simmering in the pot for now. Lots to process. Post-vacation depression is setting in.

And to Bill the Pill: this should answer your question. And give you more?

Back to the lowlands

I got off the plane Sunday night. Five hours after I left Montana, I was back in Wisconsin. I really hate flying if only for the fact that I spent most of yesterday in a dislocated funk. Last summer when I rode the dog out and back for the fourth I had a solid three days, there and back again, in which to mentally/emotionally adjust to the changes. Flying does not afford me those important hours to cement in my head the distance between where I am and where I was.

I took some pictures. They're still on the camera. I had meetings with some of my old professors. I now have homework that I have to finish by the end of the "semester". Once that's taken care of, the ball for graduate studies will begin to roll. (When it gets to wherever it's going is a differnt story.)

All in all, I realized that there isn't much back there that I don't have here. Of course there are tradeoffs. I wouldn't have a band out there. I would have to pay more for housing (but less for food). I would have fewer options of entertainment and would likely end up back in a routine of drinking more... But I would have the mountains and a different set of friends to spend time with. I was offered a job in a trade if I moved back.... Ugh.

I don't know.

In the end, I have to keep on with the band. Friday before I left, I purchased a copy of the new Radiohead album. I've already listened the details out of it. I read some reviews yesterday and I think that anyone who is already saying things like, "It's no The Bends or OK Computer," needs to shut the hell up. Radiohead is a band composed of members who are learning more about their craft. They're going to keep doing different things. Don't expect them to retread ground they've already covered. (Advice I gave myself on vacation... Don't retread ground you've alread covered.) If anything, In Rainbows (and my vacation) has given me some new inspiration, some challenges to apply myself to, and a good perspective on where I should probably be putting my energies.

I'll get to the pictures soon. After I get my laundry done. I didn't take care of that yesterday 'cause I sold the Dodge and then went over to Travis' to give him his gift, a copy of Lawrence Frelinghetti's A Far Rockaway of the Heart and ended up hanging out the rest of the evening.

FCK MTHR FCK!!!

"All ya'll can squat on your thumbs for all I care!"

So last day at work before I go on vacation... if it stinks, it's hittin' a fan.

Nothing but pure cut frustration as at least eight hours worth of work is getting thrown at me to be done in four as my boss steps out the door. "Going to lunch."

Yeah... I'll stay here and do all of this work you've been "saving" for me and then go take care of the other things too. (Rather, I think I'll post a whine&moan rant. That'll show you.)

That story about the haunted house will have to wait. I've got to throw some clothes into a bag and make sure I've got enough money to get to the airport tomorrow.

After that, "All ya'll can squat..."

Suspense, it'll kill you...

You know I'm doing this just to drag it out right. I could have written this damn story a while ago... but I did scribble out a rough draft on my lunch break. I'll get it finished tonight (maybe) but definitely before I head off to Big Sky Country.

In the "mean"time I will leave this transcribed excerpt from the book I started reading today. The View From Nowhere

"The question of how to combine the external view of this embarrassing but unavoidable activity with the view from inside is just another instance of our ubiquitous problem. Even those who regard philosophy as real and important know that they are at a particular and, we may hope, early stage of its development, limited by their own primitive intellectual capacities and relying on the partial insights of a few great figures from the past. As we judge their results to be mistaken in fundamental ways, so we must assume that even the best efforts of our own time will come to seem blind eventually. This lack of confidence should be an integral part of the enterprise, not something that it needs a historical argument to produce. We also have to recognize that philosophical ideas are acutely sensitive to individual temperament, and to wishes. Where the evidence and the arguments are too meager to determine a result, the slack tends to be taken up by other factors. The personal flavor and motivation of each great philosopher's version of reality is unmistakable, and the same is true of many lesser efforts."

Susan and I have had discussions about the current state of philosophy. She contemplated working on her Ph.D. in philosophy but decided that it was just too dead. Rather, she chose something relating to Medieval History. So... yeah... but I understand her reasoning. But finding this book and getting into it, with the prospect of grad school darkening the western skies, helps keep me interested in philosophy as more than just a major I chose out of interest over market employability. (damn "punk rock" ethic. Why couldn't I have settled on a nice sell-out degree?)

There were other lines that stood out to me. I don't have the free time to indulge here. Work duties supposedly call. And if that didn't engage you, I wrote some crap last night...

The post about the trucks

I've FINALLY put up my ad for my Dodge. I got the replacement title (the clean one) from the state of Montana Dept. of Justice Motor Vehicles Division in the mail about a 1.5 weeks ago. After that, it was just one thing after another that kept me from doing it.

$600. You want it?





You can have it. It needs a new alternator and some electronic deal-ie replaced. I didn't really pay much attention to it after I found out the price tag for the repairs. (Forget it, I'm selling it.) It'll need two tires before winter as well.

Just as Ol' Green was acting up, I (on a whim) applied for an auto loan from my bank. They approved the amount I asked for and said it would be available for 30 days while I found a vehicle to purchase. In about a two weeks time, I was driving this thing around.


Notice the stylish similarity in color. Coincidence. All I was looking for was a manual pickup with 4 wheel drive. It's a nice ride. More room in the cab. A topper and a liner with the bed. 4 doors. All around it's not a bad upgrade (until I have to put in a new clutch.) And the money from the Dodge is going to pay for new tires. It'll be too much fun to drive around once it starts snowing if I keep the old ones (even with the 4wd. Not enough tread, and I think they may be undersized.)

And these pictures were taken with my new camera that I bought for my upcoming trip. Four more days. I really can't wait.

And I'm still working on the haunted house story. (By working on it I mean not working on that, but rather doing other shit.)

UPDATE: 10/24/07 - Apparently someone can see these pictures. I wasn't able to. I think it had something to do with some post editing and stuff... deleted them on accident... I don't know. Anyway. I reinserted them. Blogspot rules!!!

Awaiting trial

So hold your breath fair reader (I'm referring to the other person who reads this blog besides myself (that's right, I re-read my work and bask in my self-perceived inter-galactical "awesomeness."))

I am actually working out a post in word rather than my usual seat-of-the-wrinkled-trousers approach because it's an involved story and I really want to do it justice. It has to do with the last two email exchanges that served as placeholders for real posts earlier this week. I don't want to do that thing that bad comedians do and say, "Okay, this is going to be really funny." However, I will say that I don't think I've ever laughed as much, or as hard, in a 36 hour period as I did in the last 36 hours.

I swear it'll be done by tomorrow. (sure)

In the interim ("Interim Principal") I will leave you with something from one of my newer projects.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

currently untitled (1st draft)

The well, well, well's run dry, dry, dry. We need more words
for "bitter". That would make things easier. Easier for
phrasing and pleasing. And I ain't been pleased by the current state
of progress. Years ahead of the curve, years behind in the
bend. Take the dividing curtain and split it from
floor to ceiling. Then take out the ceiling.
Never served a goddamn purpose nohow anyways.

No one. No where. Pinches. Punches. Pincers. Lance-ettes.
Sly spots. Perforation in the shape of this soft pulsing.
"I could raise more cats on this farm if the city didn't
have that asinine law."

But it's alright for everyone to skate to their places
of business on sheets of glass. It's all a gas, gassed out,
too many motorcycle hill climb rallies with burly, barrel-chested
women and scantily clad men.

SOLID FUCKING GOLD! (Shouts "Gold!", fires finger-
pistols in the air erstwhile making gunshot sound effects with
his bristly-beard-surrounded, tooth-missing mouth.)


"Yokels," uttered in disgust.

Re: Take the "unit" out

(((Travis' Initial Message)))

--- Travis wrote:
> sorry i was a bit out of it and texting so much at
> the end of evening...didn't intend to be rude...some
> of it was just that "supernatural" comedown...good
> times.
>
> later
> the "13"
>

(((My Reply)))

Travis,

I had no problems with the way last night wound down. Did you hear how much I was shouting at the Tee Vay? I was enjoying myself watching the Based Balls game. "Boring, Boring! (wind up for pitch) Oh, here comes some action! (after the pitch) Boring." I find it funny so everyone else should too. Besides, I wasn't expecting you to entertain me the way Stas does on a normal Thursday night. That would cross several lines too many. And I'm not talking about state lines either.

I was thinking about the whole Supernatural progression from season one to season three. Was season one as x-files/buffy as the episode we watched last night. Maybe I haven't seen enough of the show to really get a good feel for it all. The intuitive flow of the story. I didn't much like the introduction of the new (potentially re-occuring) character AFTER they brought in the chick with the knife AND the guy in prison from last season's finale. I thought the show was about the brothers... (I mean really, who are they? Ehhh?) ((I forgot to mention the Demon who gave the soul deal from the end of last season))

Danny J's email about the hotmail debacle is top notch funny. Haywired jackhammer of des-something-or-other. I laughed pretty hard at his frustration.

No news on the birthday get-down-from-there from Steve or Leah. Steve suggested it may be just a roommates and significant others gathering (how rude! after all I don't even bother to do for them?) So whatever. Maybe tonight would be a great night to get plastered (to a tour bus) and car surf all the way to Toronto. You can slam dance the whole way there.

I still owe you money for the 7th. I remembered it again this morning as I was walking to work. I have the funds available today. I should just give you the scratch for next 7th as well.

The experiments are going smoothly. Like we thought, straw does indeed burn, but not the way we thought it would.

Nothing else as of yet.

Z-bot

(((Travis' Inevitiable Reply to My Reply)))

Travis wrote----

> last night was a 'lil bit goofier (with the pratfalls and all...)
> then it normally is...sometimes the episodes are a bit darker...
> last season especially...i thought last night was funny in spots...
> and the idea of them being hunted by another "hunter" (though
> a little annoying, i don't doubt they're gonna go places with
> him being a religious man) is intriguing... besides, they killed
> off the seasons 1 and 2 villan last season, so they have a dire
> need for recurring antagonists...as do i.

(((and My Reply to Travis the Second Time)))

T-Dawgg

I did like the religious man "hunter" being used by the dude in jail. The dude in jail isn't on the 'good' side anymore, right? So the go-go-God hunter is being played like a fiddle by a Jamacian Devil.

I did forgot to mention the other character they introduced the end of last season in the woman/demon that gave they younger brother (Sam?) back his soul for the older brother's (Dean?).

There's too goddamn much going on in that show for me to keep track without having watched it as much as other people have...

Did you catch Danny's reference to Alpo as his canned food item he's going to bring to the haunted house tonight? He's got your cans of broth beat... sure it's food but I'd rather just go hungry. With the broth, at least you can crack it open and be fairly certain that it's fit for human consumption.

I think I'm just going to pay the three dollars. If those fuckers want me to do the leg work for their food pantry donation, they've got another think coming. I already gave one of the homeless guys outside the men's shelter a spare square (Not but five minutes after I was thinking about how in college I used to tell people bumming smokes from me on campus that I didn't smoke, as smoke was pouring out my mouth with the words. I would give them one anyway but I couln't help myself.) I did contemplate pulling that routine on the guy but he's not a college student with at least enough rationality to get into a state school.

I was also thinking about Halloween in general, and more specifically, my general disinterest in the whole affair. I think in the end, I'm just not that into it because it wasn't ever a magical night for me as a kid (being raised to believe that it was the Devil's Holiday) and growing up in mostly rural settings didn't afford for a whole lot of loot grabbing. Couple that with all those fucking packets of bullshit sweettarts and you've got some sour grapes for memories. As I've gotten older, I have begun to see it as another escapist endeavor. (Just scan-check the college co-ed costumes downtown to get a sense of what I'm getting at here. There goes a sexy nurse, there goes a sexy playboy bunny, there goes a sexy bee, (since when is a bee ever sexy? Oh yeah. When the european colonists brought over the European Honeybee which gave them a significant crop growing edge over the indigenous peoples they were uprooting for their venture capital projects. Sexy!!!)

Seriously though, I think I have some work I need to get done. Fucking Miami Subpoena came in on the Fax-o-ma-phone. Gotta find a professor...

In deep thought/shit,
(BuzZ)ach

(((and the Final Return!!!)))
>
> you could be right about your roots in halloween...you
> see, halloween was a magical time of year for young
> travis...cool costumes, candy, my mother went all out
> decorating, it was an event...my parents would take me
> into town to trick-or-treat with my cousins...good times.
>
> i feel you on the costume scene, though...why do i think
> i wear a sheet labeled "ghost" with holes cut into it? pure
> parody, and the wankers don't even know it's going about
> right under their merry noses...ooooohhhh a sexy pirate,
> a sexy vampire/nurse, a sexy astronaut...get real and then
> get bent, posers...
>

As the day "drug" on...

Most days I normally have a book or two, a daily crossword, or some sort of writing that needs editing in my backpack waiting for when things die down at work.

Most days in October seem to be without down time, so I didn't have anything cued up in my stash last week when there was a moment or two for just sitting with a mug of coffee... So I pulled some paper and made these...

So go ahead and say whatever...

MC Chris is coming to your town tonight...

So I wrote out this nice long post about the show Monday night to subsequently lose it. Nice. It was the best post I've ever written (likely story.)

First off, he's much taller than I had hoped and it seems like he's lost weight. Good for him.

I finished up at work around 9pm and drove over the The Annex to see a group of kids, most of them in black hoodies, standing around the door, smoking cigarettes. That meant that I had missed the opening act, Rob DZ (local Madison Hip Hop Celeb.) but that I was wearing the correct attire. Since it was an 18+ show, I figured I may be in the upper end of the age range there that night... and I was. Best to at least look the part.

I walk in and there's rap music being spun by a DJ and more people milling around. I spot Rob DZ at the bar, sitting there talking to some guy. I got a beer and stood in the crowd listening to the music and waited for MC Chris to take the stage. As it turns out he was stalling since he didn't have all of his music so he didn't go on for roughly an hour.

When he finally got on stage, he came out and did a remix version of some song I'm completely forgetting right now. I was mostly just amazed that his voice sounded the way it did live. Almost like a munchkin. Mesmerizing. He performed most of the songs I really like, Evergreen, Ratz, W33D, The Creep, Geek, a truncated version of I Want Candy, a rough version of 'Tussin, and a rousing chorus of The Gambler. Fett's Vett was his closer, naturally but he shut off his music partway through the song and did it a Capella. Nice touch. It was disappointing that he didn't play as many songs but he explained that he had lost most of his music when his hard drive crashed a few weeks ago. He did get a replacement external hard drive but then he knocked it off the table at a show and that was ruined too. So he didn't have a whole lot of music to rap over.

During his first set break, he brought to our attention a gentleman standing at the front of the stage and informed us that this same gentleman had walked into the bathroom earlier that evening and walked into the stall he was shitting in and said, "uh... are you MC Chris?" The guy was acting like he was all cool for being called out for his egregious actions. It's one of those situations where he didn't realize that he was in a bad place for being a jackass. You don't do something like that and then stand at the front of the stage. At some point in his tirade about the whole ordeal about privacy and taking a dump, MC Chris said, "When a man is taking a shit you tiptoe around that motherfucker!" At the end of his rant, he was telling the douche to get to the back of the room or he was going to have security called to have him removed. The guy didn't get his point until security was actually moving for him. Too funny. Towards the end of the rant, we were all shouting for him to get to the back so the show could continue.

This happened a second time but with a different person. This time it was a blond chick standing up front with her boyfriend. During his first set break, he said something to her along the lines of, "if that guy's your boyfriend, you better stop making those fuck me eyes at me." Sure enough, during a pause in songs later in the evening, he sent her to the back of the room. She knew that he was serious so she left without much of a fight but when she got to the back, she ended up standing next to me in front of the mixing board. I heard her shout something about how he's ugly. She didn't even mention his short stature or a resemblance to a troll/gnome/goblin. So uncreative.

After it was all said and done, I bought a t-shirt and had him sign it. When I was standing in the autograph line, some skank pissed him off. It was a classic, "I'm so hot for you Mr. Celebrity" "Get out of here you skank." "You're an untalented, ugly shit!" exchange. Worth the price of admission.

All in all it was an alright show. I didn't expect the crowd to show it's appreciation as is the case with most 18+ shows. Kids just don't know how to have a good time at a live show these days, it seems. Maybe I see it a little differently since I had a few beers and they were only stoned. (Maybe that's why they were so sedated. Hmm...)

So yeah. Take that, second attempt at a post that was the best post ever.

And that white spot on his face that picture is some rain that got on the lens of my camera which he asked if I got in Poland. I told him it was Vintage Chinese.

Re: this is getting annoying...

***** Travis' Message *****

--- Travis wrote:
> does chicken broth count as a "canned food" item?
> if it does, i have my (and a couple fortunate
> friends') tickets into the haunted dealie this
> Friday...
>
> i guess you could say i have the "fright"
> stuff...that's never going to get old...
>

***** MY Reply *****

Travis! (Spoken like your mother would say it.)

I don't think that it doesn't count but you (and your friends) look like a real jerk(s) if you show up with Chicken Broth.

(Shaking head)

(shrugs shoulders)

But who am I to judge? Maybe there's some needy people who visit the food pantry to get broth because they can't keep down solid foods... because they're alcoholics and whatever. I don't know.

(sighs)

I slept like crap last night again. I'm starting to get tired of not sleeping well (get it, tired. Ha!) Even crashed out on the couch with Deano wasn't that good of a nap. Perhaps I just don't have the "night moves" to get things done in the sleep dept. anymore. I'll just resign myself to a waking life and eventually end up in a sleep study at the university, trying to raise enough money for a DVD player. After I buy the swords.

(pauses, stares out the window at the blacktop while a fly lands on his arm.)

I really hate my jobs. All of them. I think I would best be served by hanging up the guitar, the photocopy skills, and the "congratulations, you're being sued" party patrol, and moving to a new city with a graduate program that suits my needs. But it's only Monday. We'll see how I feel after the MC Chris show tonight. "MC Chris is coming to your town tonight."

(thinks through the chorus to the song, mostly the music. the lyrics are just a jumble. Music is almost the same thing as the "Uh-Oh" music from Sea Lab 2021. Huh...)

(Contemplates purchasing a gun this evening, quickly hides that idea.)

I've got some things to do... or something. Lots of backlog Affidavits, Invoices, Document Requests, and I'm just sitting here. Wasting away in margarit... nevermind. Stupid parrotheads!

Z

***** Travis' Response to My Reply *****

> Subject: Flushing Meadows
>
> so you think the broth may be bad form, 'eh...
>
> just curious...i don't want to be "that guy"...it's not like it's
> old broth or anything; i can vagely remember buying it,
> although i'm sort of at a loss as to why i bought it...but i
> digress...somebody out there has got to be on a liquid
> diet or hankerin' to make some chicken soup and perhaps
> my most generous contribution will help turn a fanciful
> afternoon's daydream into a lush, steaming, delicious reality...
>
> which is the only kind of reality i'd waste my time
> showing up for.
>
> i mean, i have both chicken and beef varieties...one
> of the cans of chicken may even be "low fat"...charity
> can be "health-conscious"...
>
> leaving my mark on society, one can at a time...
>
> the "13"

Ripe, ripped from the headlines

As I was running around Friday from "Health and Family" to "Federal Court" to FedexKinkos to the dank pits I work in, supposedly called "office" (whatever the hell that means), I kept seeing the cover o' the Wisco State Journal in those little newspaper dispenser boxes. (I want that job! Standing in one place for years, taking change and giving out crosswords and horrorscopes.)

Headline went something like, "LOOKIE HERE! DUDE SHOT PEOPLE, GA-HILK!!! NOW READ THE 911 TRANSCRIPTS, HERE, FIRST!!!!!!!!!!!" (assuming you know how to read)

I don't want this to come across as another post where I almost spill my dirty secret that I don't think death is as big a deal as we all are supposed to act/believe/feel whatever. I don't like to explain that to people. It's taken years of hard work to build up these kinds of callouses. Alright.

Okay, so a guy shot his ex and some kids at a party... and he killed them and they were all pretty much kids, and it's a small town, it's terribly tragic (and I do emphasize that it is tragic) in the sense that it was needless and pointless and irrational to a fault. But what bothered me was the way in which the headline and the front page "picture" seemed like a gratuitous attempt to get me to buy the paper because it had excerpts of the emergency phone calls in a larger type... "he's shooting to kill, he shot at my head, etc." (Not the actual quotes.)

What I'm getting at is this. (Attention: point. (none?)more like question posed, accusations thrown, fingers pointed, self critically analyzed/scrutinized(check the half-baked ideas section of the index.))

At what point does my standing, gawking a-gape, rubbernecking become not so much a social concern for the community I live in and instead turn into just another passing story like so much of an lazy afterknoon serial?

This is a dark well to tread water in... Or as if it's a two week shoot of baboons during the drought season and they're desperate enough to drink water from the river that's full of large predatory reptiles. When one of 'em gets snapped, the rest sit and chatter and squawk, in groups of convenient comfort.

Or maybe I'm just repulsed by my own morbid curiosity of the details...

Rather that, Here's something more enjoyable to read, lovingly crafted by Joey Vochich

* * * * * * * * *

10/11/07...
lookingforward to it...
to what?...

(to the chaos and structure of tomorrow...)

ummmmmm.....

we will make eye contact with humans...and then hide...
(hide and move on...)

and i see
and you
and me
and us...
the same humans...but only sometimes.

us?

(U.S.A....U.S.A....U.S.A.!!!!!!!!!!!)

You see dear friend, i grew up during the Cold War.
With trick el down economy and darkness...
and thank god (god damn it!)
(for the sheen of pop).

with BOOM boxes and breakin 2 electric boogaloo...

yes, here we are...at the cusp of another christmas and another city winter

of patterns and local news and
disgusting!
just give me the weather forcast god damn it!!!
...and the score of the game...

the big game...

("the future cannot and will not be predicted...")

this is all i know...
this is all i want to know...

let go let go let go...

LETS GO!!!!!

(these words are not just for me...they are for you as well)

HEAVY DUDE...HEAVY!!

(and the clerk at the coffee house had the kind of eye contact that slows you down and forces you to
acknowledge the existence of suffering)...heavy....
"ummm...i'll take a large coffee."
"for here or to go?"
"ummm....to go."
"room for cream?"
"ummmm..."

"what does eric clapton and coffee have in common?"
"they both suck without cream."

"i like my coffee the way i like my men...strong and black."

(that's not funny.)

through discipline and dedication to what's for the best...

i lie to myself at least ten times a day...20+ on the weekends...
especially when i'm....

yeah yeah yeah...
god damn it...fuck...fuck it!
the clouds are rolling in....

shivering in the am, now that the earth is tilting
the other way

BlueBlockers ready...with made in china and american belly/baby fat

phlegm release almost complete...
for another this and another that

another yes and no and maybe...asapasapasapasap...

(whispering now...voice cracking...u.s.a...u.s.a...)

with moments of losing and winning and not caring...
this is it...

another 15minutes of you and me and whatever...

Thank you for reading.

If you just sneezed, well then god bless you child.

If you just yawned, you should go to sleep or drink some water.

Love,

Joe

* * * * * * * * *

Will do. Think I need both. Can't sleep. Two days now.

Storm brewing in the back of my skull, right behind the pounding headache that started towards the end of rehearsal today. First time back as the full band since August. Too Long. But we worked on our rendition of Bjork's Bachelorette
to the point of having a sense that we can at some point pull it off live, in front of people.

It's a great song. Off a great album. I consider it the perfect soundtrack to a solo day on Lone Peak with a Burton Frontier 170.

Alright. Kristin, you complained that my posts weren't as involved as they used to be. Here's a masterwork of cutting, pasting, and "researching" in the wee hour o' tha' morn'. Madden's calling and there's much studio work to do tomorrow (don't worry, it's all bass tracks. I can sleep through most of it, then veto it on final listen through and make "Thirteen" do it again.)

(and I keep trying to put apostrophes where they don't belong. Time to stop typing.)

Stutter-Butter Tastes Better

It's been forever since I've put any time in on the internets. I guess you could accuse me of not GIVING A DAMN!

Yeah.

Bitter, angry, moody, general piss-ed-off-ish-ness floating round today like a quick drink of water. Where do I want to eat tonight? Probably a restaurant, probably by myself. Fiesty doesn't go well with others.

Two weeks till I leave the Wisco for a week and then it'll be three weeks and I'll be back here sitting in this office that reeks of smoke, feeling bored/angry/malaise. Crack a bottle. Crack a grin across your back.

I have been writing though, not here, not at the other one (decanterbury tales) but I've been scribbling words on paper in my free time and then transmogifying them into files that I can print out and edit and edit. I found an interesting Buh-cow-ski quip, something about how reading your own writing shouldn't bore you because if it does, you can be sure that it will be boring to others who read it. (subtext: why are you still reading my blog?)

That said, I'm still kicking around the idea of putting together a self-published chapbook. Not a huge run, available by request, madcap poetry (if you dare call it that) more words slapped together like spaghetti noodles and broken glass, called art in the name of all that is literalarily holy.

Ugh.

Stumbled onto a site that I'm not going to link to that reminded me of a nightmare I once had. That's really what's kicking me in the nuts right now.

Three weeks, pictures, maybe not here, link to pictures from an excursion... we'll see.

Keep faith and all... yeah yeah yeah./

Do you realize?

I had the wonderful pleasure of seeing the Flaming Lips perform live a few Saturday's ago. It was an outdoor show. It was a beautiful day/evening. It was free. Holy cow was that the best five bucks for parking I've ever paid.

But that said. I got the news about Ol' Green. Alternator shot. Drive something something computer fried due to alternator shorting out. Total repair price, too much to justify fixing just to raise the price for sale.

My best option is to ask for enough to get a new set of tires for the new truck (which has yet to be named.)

So after burning out the transmission on the old Hyundai and selling that for $400, I didn't learn my lesson to get rid of the vehicle before it becomes worthless. I think it's going to sink in this time. Had the repairs not cost much, I could have tried to sell Ol' Green for enough to knock a year off my new auto loan. As is stands now, I'm just going to have to be content to continue to be the slave of my unhealty participation in american consumer culture. (Squeeze some more of my soul out while I still got some.)

Bugger.

In other news, the band, or what's left of the band, is still around. Doing stuff. What stuff? I don't know. It's been a busy month and a half. Fuck. It's been a busy as hell year so far. We have to keep postponing tracking the rest of the drums for one reason or another. I'm still waiting to get rough mixes of all the tracks to give a through listen to them and decide which ones need to be done just one more time. It really doesn't matter. At this rate, we'll be retracking these same damn songs again in a few months. Right? If history has anything to say about it. I've already laid down demos of these songs. We recorded them last spring. We're doing it again right now. It never ends. The worst part is that it gets in the way of working on new material. Better material. Songs that will blow your brain out the back of your head. (Subject to personal taste, of course.)

I've had some good ideas lately. Better turns on the same theme. Variations in song construction. Different approaches to this thing called music.

Travis said it best on Sunday when we were talking about the Donald Driver Show* on our way over to Dan and Amanda's to watch the Packer game. "Television is so boring because it's always trying to mimic reality. They can do anything they want, absolutely anything, and yet you end up watching fucking King of Queens or Two and a Half Men. That's five men." (That's not a direct quote but he said something similar to that.)

But he's right. We have these prescribed forumlae sitting within arms reach. The creative stuff, the truly creative stuff is sitting in boxes on shelves. Sure you can get at them, but you'd have to get off your ass to do it. And no one wants to work that hard, right? So I guess I'm going to end up writing some more Verse, Chorus, Verse, Chorus, Bridge, Solo, Verse, Chorus x 2, Outro songs and call it a day.

* the Donald Driver Show is a real show. It's a boring talk show where people sit in some studio and talk with Donald Driver and his guests about the Green Bay Packers, the NFL, and not much else. Last season, Travis and I decided that the Donald Driver Show (which I've never watched, unfortunatly) would be better if it was a sit-com staring Donald Driver. His next door neighbor would be played Brett Farve. They wouldn't be foorball players. The highlight of the show each week would be some spectacular diving catch that Donald Driver makes. The Thanksgiving episode would feature him diving for the turkey as it for some wacky reason gets knocked off the table. There would be one where he catches a baby, an expensive vase, etc. And then there would be the Brett Farve joke where anything he tossed (be it keys, a basketball, a kid) would end up in Minnesota. What we were discussing on Sunday would be the off episode where for some reason Donald Driver would travel through time and end up as a football player (a la Quantum Leap) having to win a game. It's still in the developmental stages. Obviously.

Heel Draggin'

In an unprecidented move, I've taken a long 37 months to get rid of Ol' Green, my beloved '93 Dodge Dakota. I still own it, but I am picking up my new "ride" tomorrow. A seven year upgrage to a pollution machine that will only aid in creating more ecological misfortune.

Ol Green has decided to be a disgruntled little child and break down not three days before I get his replacement. Seems as though the alternator has been the target this time and the check engine light turned on (diagnotics yet to be run on that... seems to be running alright though, but that's never a good indicator.)

I finally got the financing lined up today and the title is ready for the exchange tomorrow. Hurray. No more 15 mpg. Just another car payment and the usual routine of living.

But I would rather be getting something like this.

A co-worker of mine has already put his name on the waiting list. But he's semi-retired and has the money to do that. Maybe in ten years, I'll be able to afford something like that... yeah right. Not with a worthless liberal arts degree and jobs that don't offer cost of living raises.

I did have a discussion with him about or continued reliance on lnag distance transportation. This is an idea that I started kicking around back in college. The notion that we as greedy, self-serving americans (or humans, perhaps) feel it's our RIGHT!!! to be able to live thirty, fourty, fifty miles away from a major population center yet still be able to go there when we feel like it, not just out of necessity for supplies.

Park county Montana has two main population centers. Gardner and Livingston. There is roughly fifty miles between the two town. And yet that drive will take you past large house after large house (some of them former ranches split up into subdivisions.) If you were to take all of that land and turn it into something more useful than a personal playground for rich folks and force those rich folks to live within a certain radius of the several population centers, you would make a lot of people unhappy that their personal freedom to consume, use, and hoard land would be gone, but you could do some things to affect environmental (and possibly economic) for the communities.

It is by no means a completely thought out idea. I just have some fanciful visions at this point and I don't see myself ever really making it into something to argue about, but it's there. Concentrate populations to aid in economy (not to be confused with "the economy"), force people to live near the supermarkets, barber shops, and watering holes. Keep the land in a more natural state, blah blah blah... enviromental ideaology. Truth is, people don't care. Don't give a damn. They're concerned about themselves. What they want, and how they can get it. Plain and simple.

People suck.

Twisting

It's already September but it seems like ages ago I was talking about how pre-season football was only a few weeks away.

Fortune says that it's a good thing August is gone. I'm in agreeance with fortune. But September and October are going to be just as chaotic.

Re-tracking all songs for the album. Finally started on that yesterday. Drums for three songs are supposedly done but we'll take a listen to them when we go back to the studio (whenever that is). Danny and Travis are not comfortable playing along to the click. I'm used to it so I have less patience for them. They should be at my level and what-have-you, etc.

I bought a plane ticket to take a vacation at the end of October. I'm going to head back to Montuckey for a week in the fairest of the seasons, "Huntin' Season!" and no, I'm not a hunter. It's as I like to refer to as "the Fairest of the Seasons." (I listened to Nico's Chelsea Girls a lot one fall when I lived there.) I want to be there when I remember it being most pleasant as if it ever isn't.

So trips to the gym. Working on new demos for the vocalist. Re-tracking everything at a snails pace. Watching the regular season of the NFL unfold from week to week. Writing more crap prose-poetry and staring at the stars. It doesn't seem like there's a lot in there but there is. Managing a band, being the principal song-writer and producer is going to suck up a lot of free time (not Madden '07 and my Dynasty NHL Team, the Milwaukee Butt Monkies)

I had some different things I was going to post about. News, entertainment, tra la la la la, etc., but I have lost interest in that stuff (from last week or two.)

Keeping it real? Good, I'm not either.

Band Drama!!! and the Fox

Travis.

After spending a nice relaxing dinner (they prepared a delicious salmon chowder that I couldn't resist, and you know how picky I am about eating fish, but alas, I had to eat it because it was superbly delicious) with Sam and Megan and Will and Chris in Oconomowoc followed with heavy lifting (I helped unload their moving truck full of their new kitchen from Ikea) I rolled into downtown Milwaukee (I think I saw "the Fox" but it was kinda foggy and misty and my wipers don't work too well these days so maybe it was just a "harley dude" with a fedora) and kicked it with Joey Vochich (OMG it's Joey Fukin Vochich!) for a few hours talking about stuff (like his surreal week past)

He said that he had already sent an e-mail to Jakey at the Klinic confirming our acceptence of his offer to perform on Friday night as Where the i Divides without an answer from Danny J. and he said that he did so because if Danny makes up some excuse, we're going to play the show without him, performing our acoustic set in a similar fashion to last Tuesday in Greenfield park.

We also discussed the rediculously long message on Danny's answering machine and how it prevented me from leaving him a message on Saturday (due to my refusal to listen to it, YET AGAIN) and he said that he's going to "have words" with him about that along with some other assorted odds and ends that are irking him about Danny's "lack of professionalism". I think our showdown between the two of them may soon be more than just speculation. I can't wait to see them go at it. Bring my popcorn and my beer and get a front row seat. It should be a good one. Joe's got the height advantage but Danny has the military training.

I'll see you later tonight and we'll discuss these things in greater depth and also perhaps a missive about the struggling Milwaukee Brewers and their trouncing given out last eve in Arizona. What a game!!!

Sincerely,

Zach

--- Travis wrote:

> by the way (no, not that awful chili peppers song)

> what's the good word on that prospective klinic

> Friday night deal? are we going to be rocking? i

> hope so...

>

Strom a commin'

So whatever.

Slacking at work. Not doing what needs to be done. I'm waiting for the day to end. Where the i Divides is playing it's first "acoustic" show tonight at a park in Milwaukee. It's not an offical acoustic show (hence the quotes) because I'm playing my electric and Trav is playing an acoustic. Danny is not going to be at this gig. He's decided that he needs his sleep over playing a weekday show. (Yeah. We're that important that people will want us on the weekends because we draw so many fans and whatever.)

The recording that we have been ingnoring all summer has finally been "scrapped" thanks largely in part to our Engineer admitting that he improperly mic'ed the drums and that he was having a hell of a time mixing drums and that affects the overall sound and then Dan wants to retrack everything with click track (why the hell didn't he want to do that six months ago? I'll never know.) So we're going to re-record everything for a great deal of a steal that our engineer is throwing our way. I don't want it to take forever but it's going to.

I have decided that I'm going to simplify the number of guitar tracks. Strip things down. Work with bare minimum. Avoid the excess because that seems to create a void in the recordings. There's so much guitar that it kinda becomes a wash-out and fades into the back. It's not as distinct and discernable as it could/should be.

We have learned a few things from our first run at recording. I hope to got it doesn't take us 100 hours like the last time. (we'll see)

Take a break and take five

My friend Leah has this thing on her website called the Reviewery.

Here's her take on the Take-5 Candy Bar

"Though you cannot see, Caramel, Peanuts, and Pretzels (Chocolate and Peanut Butter will come out the other end later) are all flying out of my mouth in disgust and bewilderment. Tears are coming out of my eyes, not from pain or the projectile puke, but of sadness that the wonderful people at Hershey's made a disappointing and, I'll just say it, ass-gross candy bar."

The Count's #1 american super vending machine exTRAVaganza

This Gem was sitting in my inbox. It's good to have friends.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

those andy capp's hot chili cheese fries have finally come to the
forefront in the vending machine..."someday i will be that very dog and
the day shall be mine alone..."

and now here they sit, bag open, upon my desk.

now i know i shouldn't eat thee...(due to my stomach issues and all,
which are not entirely better) but this is for science.

they pull off the "chili" more convincingly than they accomplish the
"cheese"; which is more of a suggestion than a flavor and may be
destined to be overtaken by a stronger flavor...namely "chili".

i hope these don't get me sick...i don't have any immediate plans for
eating the whole bag but we both know i merry well will.

see you tonight, barring disaster

t

Once a year we do this

Okay... I ran into an old friend at my high school reunion who's on myspace but I haven't added her as a friend because I haven't talked to her in years but she said that I should be her friend so whatever, it's myspace. It's totally lame but I have a band so it's different. I need it in order to "network" and get my music out the the kids.

That aside, I found this page. I run into this guy and some of his friends from time to time when I stray from my usual public houses but we don't have much in common these days. We used to play soccer back in the day. Way back in the day. But here's why I'm even wasting my time on this...

Please tell me that you have a better picture of yourself than one where you've cropped out someone (who's hand is still in frame) and please tell me that you have a better picture of yourself that doesn't involve holding a drink in your hand. But what would I expect. Check the stats... check the layout... check the wardrobe (Obviously not a floordrobe. He's not sporting the metro-hobo look this year that's all the rage with the indie-rockers who matter.)

Anyway. There are reasons why stereotypes exist. I enjoy running into that crowd from time to time. It's good to have your past ambush you in unexpected places. It reminds me to keep being myself, the self I've crafted over the years... or perhaps the best imitation of myself.

In other news, I picked up a copy of the paper this morning for my yearly ritual of reading the "if you were born today" and here's what it said:

"Your home is your sanctuary this year. You'll definitely put down roots. There'll be a few family disagreements but you can work things out."

I don't know what the hell that means. Put down roots? Does that mean I'm a tree? Does that mean I'm going to be establishing a bullshit residence in this mundane city? And what family is it talking about? Totally stupid.