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.