dj empirical plays his first wedding

hello. dj empirical here; montana has the day off. ;)

yeah. yesterday i became one of the most-hated of all djs: the wedding dj. well, to be fair, it wasn't a typical wedding, and i'm definitely not your typical wedding dj.

the wedding was that of greg (drummer for the defrost star) and jess, who apparently share my dislike of typical wedding music. in fact, their "no-play" list was quite similar to mine: no "chicken dance", no "hokey-pokey", no kool & the gang "celebration", no "YMCA". this was a good sign.

the wedding itself was held at the southgate house, in the ballroom. having done quite a few shows there, i was excited: their sound is great, with deep deep bass possibilities (though naturally i wouldn't be abusing it).

i won't go into many details, but i will say that the ceremony itself was refreshingly short. i had a few spots where i was to play key songs, which the bride had provided. those were no problems, though one of them was that iron & wine cover of the postal service that i can't seem to escape lately.

after the ceremony, i went to town. i kept it reserved, so i wasn't playing *anything* i liked, but i definitely liked everything i played. it was basically a version of the dance party that will be following the bands at my birthday show (09/17 be there).

good times.

i tore down and rushed to the northside tavern, where my good friends Infinite Number of Sounds were about to start their last song. this was their cincinnati cd release party, and they had invited me to play, but i'd had to decline due to the wedding. no matter, though, as i'd played their cleveland cd-release party on the 12th instead. plus, they're playing my birthday show (09/17 be there) as well.

more good times.

tomorrow marks the resurrection of the "sundays of debauchery", wherein we go to bar louie, drink overpriced drinks, and go see a film. this particular sunday's film: The Brothers Grimm.

matt damon.

my hopes for Punky Brewster's offspring...

(an expanded rant from a phone call with Claire...)

Soleil Moon Frye this week has given birth, and this bit of news takes me back to the heyday of her TV show "Punky Brewster" and conseqeuntly all the disillusionment that followed. We as 80's kids were excited about a primetime show featuring a character named "Punky," for we expected it to be the beginning stages of anarchy. She dressed the way she wanted, spoke in nutty phrases that confounded her non-relative guardian Henry (the nature of their relationship eerily glossed over) and we expected it was only a matter of time before she started spraypainting the walls, getting politically active, smashing the state and such.

We watched religiously, waiting in anticipation for the uprising cues a la "Network." Would tonight be the night we threw open our venetian blinds and screamed into the night air "I'm mad as hell and I'm not gonna fuckin' take it anymore!" in our worst Cockney accent, twin middle fingers aimed at the setting sun of Reagan-erika? No. "The moment" never happened. It would never happen. We were hoodwinked. The mainstream tricked us into viewing their family-saccharine pap, dripped viral commercials into our eyes and thus subverted punk culture then and cast shockwaves that exist today.

Fast forward to present. One has only to look at the bands and attendants of the Warped Festival to see the damage Punky Brewster's subversion has wrought. Bubble-gummer kool-aid punks in lime green Ramones T-shirts, reeking of Hot Topic sales receipt ink, more concerned with hair dye than politics, saving their babysitting dollars so they can someday afford an Eddie Bauer SUV with airbrushed safety pin mural on spare tire cover. (Plastic shopping bags and military recruiting at a punk festival?) This falls in line neatly with the Brewster agenda.

Thus......Punk IS dead. The watered-down current state of "punk" music and culture begs for an alternate term, a sub-genre, a bullet in the head or perhaps a new revolution. Maybe Frye's child will grow up and finally sound the bugle call. My blinds are open and I'm ready to scream.

flyer up-to-date for the birthday blowout

yes!

bobby vomit confirmed for the birthday blowout. i've updated the flyer.



color's better now, too.

jurassic park

so, i needed to put something on to watch while i ate just now, but i didnt want to put something on that i would be way into, as i wanted to get some blogging done as well, afterward. i flipped through the many many dvds the Toast got in china, and settled on jurassic park.

i chose it because i'd made a comment to Toast that i hadnt seen anything with Laura Dern in it, and he was quick to point out jurassic park. now, the last time i saw it was probably 94-ish, and at that time, it was a movie to me, not a film. as such, i didnt really know actors, unless they were in one of my favorite movies at the time.

now, as it's on here, there's not only the aforementioned Laura Dern, plus Jeff Goldblum (who i did remember), but there's also Sam Jackson, that jackhole Newman from Seinfeld, and even BD Wong, whom i now know from Oz, and who apparently is in one of the thirty-odd CSI's or whatever.

overall, though, i'm realizing that yes, this is one of those big blockbuster spielberg things. big, sweeping (and boring) music swells, obvious character and plot development points.

oh, and i just looked up who did the music: John Williams. bleh. at least it wasnt michael kamen.

p.s., i cant get the damn weird al song out of my head now either.

a monday of expanded vision

Since moving back to the states, I've noticed I'm a lot more patient with American culture, and understand Americans' freak-outs better. On the whole, America is extremely efficient, an element we take for granted, and when that efficiency fails even slightly, it's "unacceptable" and that's when people get crazy. After being in China, where a little thing like mailing an item or exchanging money is a two hour bureaucratic ordeal, getting back to the efficiency is a treat, and no matter how inconvenient or long something takes, it's always in English and won't ever become a needless two hour wait in verbal darkness. I wish I could instill my wisdom and patience unto every American I rub elbows with, and may I never lose this laidback trait during my time here or for that matter, ever.

Humidity had broken at least for today, the sky unhazy blue. Lovely. Kyle stopped by and we played music for a bit. I played "70's Ballad" and "Sober Me Up," each with Kyle strumming the guitar chords I wrote down. It really opened up a new dimension in the songs, just having an extra element. The first, with some gentle strumming put a Bowie-esque vibe over it, made it more "Space Oddity" than Elton John. I really think all I need to round out the tunes is a guitarist and drummer. That would give the tunes a completeness, a four sided structure: vocals, piano, guitar, drums. It made me tremendously excited to hear new possibilities. I feel like I've been playing my songs through a shitty stereo and someone has just come along and gone "Hey, only one speaker is coming through," and now I've heard the whole shebang. I can't wait to unleash them.

Also this week I started writing a new song for Montana & McDeviltoast, a kind of organ-based major/minor ascending melody, with riffs and hooks galore.

Heather did her interview for a teaching job and got it ten minutes after she left. She'll be coming up to visit for Steve's big birthday blowout. I can't wait to see her again. I've missed her a lot.

Kyle and I, after music and grapes, went to Burnet Woods and played a round of frisbee golf, chatted about this and that, caught up on the last nine months, then I went to work. Afterwards, Steve and I went up to the Comet and saw The Genders, an experimental art duo reminiscent of a mixture of Can and Bauhaus.

Another Dead Hero

I knew he was sick, and i didn't figure he'd last the year, but it still makes me sad that one of my heroes has passed away:

Dr. Robert Moog, known for the synthesizer that beared his name, died at his home in Asheville, North Carolina on Sunday. He was 71. The inventor of the Moog synthesizer — whose variants have been used by everyone from Pink Floyd to Kraftwerk, Duran Duran, the Black Eyed Peas and the Neptunes — was diagnosed with inoperable brain cancer in April and had received radiation therapy and chemotherapy to combat the disease, according to a post on his official Web site.

Born on May 23, 1934 in New York, Moog began tinkering with early versions of electronic instruments as a teenager. After writing an article about them in 1954, he opened a business building and selling theremins, machines in which pitch and volume could be controlled by the wave of a musicians' hand. Moog earned degrees in physics, electrical engineering and engineering physics before staring out on a path that would turn him into an icon for generations of modern musicians.

There's more info in the article.

You'll be missed, Bob. Say hi to Frank for me.

Born on September 26

in advance celebration (but mainly just curiosoity) i thought i'd look and see some people born on my birthday:

born 09/26

of course that's not a comprehensive list. it's not even a comprehensive list of celebrities -- i know, for example, that Shamu and i share a birthday. plus Yogafrog (a dj, friends with Q-Bert) was born the same exact day i was, to the year.

pics from my birthday outing in kings mills...

hobbit trees



creekpals



the peters cartridge co.

pics from the MTV advert shoot...

empty studio




the sand heaps



faux beach



the green screen beach party






not richard marx



mullet calendar: october



behind the scenes

the ride starts

The past few days at work, I've gotten right back into the groove. All fears about losing my serving skills are quashed. It's an instinct, and though I may have been a little rusty my first shift, everything was still there. Tom remarked how great it was to have me back and said I could have whatever shift I wanted. It's nice to be appreciated and to have your talent recognized.

Steve and I have made progress on "Punishment Horse," with only a few parts needed to complete it. It needs a different rhythm track, some falsetto vox for the bridge, and I'd like to take another stab at the first chorus. I'm belting out almost at the top of my range and the first take was a little weak. Steve's a good producer, pushing for perfection due to OCD. I almost want to work on something else and return to "Horse" fresh again, kind of take a break at a point where we're still excited about it instead of getting sick of it. Maybe "I Wear the Pants" or "Ickerdoodlesnay" will be next.

On my day off today I ended up walking around more than if I had worked. I did some errands downtown, then walked to Burnet Woods, got an iced coffee at Sitwell's (to combat humid allergy nastiness), bought a new notebook to fill with random thoughts/lyrics/concepts, ran into Britt (a karaoke pal who goes by the moniker "Fuck Your Yankee Blue Jeans") and borrowed a couple frisbees from him to play disc golf, then back up the hill. I had planned to read and play my hose organ and perhaps write or meditate, but the ultra-humid day swatted those plans down with a vengeance. I lugged backpack weight unnecessarily in addition to walking everywhere on my day off. I am smart.

Until I steadily have money in my pocket, a routine (the sundays of debachery), I won't quite feel like a citizen here. But I'm getting there. It's like an amusement park ride just starting up, the Scrambler or the Octopus, where it just starts its cycle and you know it'll keep getting faster and funner, but you're excited that it's begun. The ride has officially begun for me now. It'll last a year, then a new ride in a new country. I have to make this time count, squeeze the pulpy fruitmeat of nati' 05-06 and sup every drop of nectar from my fingers.

DJ Empirical's Birthday Blowout is coming!

forget the Wayback machine, Mr. Peabody, set the SlightlyForward machine to september 17th -- that's when it's all happening. yes. just look:



awesome. cordon off your night, because we are going after hours here people.

exiting the 20's

I woke up to the second disc of the White Album, as "Birthday" by the Beatles is the only birthday that rocks and is tolerable. Thirty years of life in this particular body. Strange.

My birthdays have always been small affairs. I think a full-scale bash with lots of people and well-wishers would be terribly embarrassing. Being born in August I always missed out on school-friend deals because everyone was out for summer holiday. And I was on the road for a majority of the others, bike races, camping in Pennsylvania, at resident camp or day camp. I think the one time I had a party was when I turned 10, but it was a block party that happened to be at the same time, so there were a bunch of adults I didn't know. I like having small introspective birthdays, with time to reflect and such.

The night before, Tracy and Rich came down and had a few presents for me, including a Napoleon Dynamite shirt that read "Give me your tots." I gave Tracy a couple things from China and then we went to the Comet to catch Meadoe. As they weren't going on until 12:30 and I wasn't going to suffer through Machine Go Boom a second time in two days, we removed ourselves to Northside Tavern, hung out on the patio. Forced to share a table with two couples who weren't fond of each other, we made small chitchat with the women, who reminded us unnecessarily that they were in their 40's. One had her boyfriend buy me a shot of Jagermeister when midnight struck. I thanked them, bade them adieu and we went back to the Comet.

Meadoe rocked good and proper and after their set, I circulated. Tracy and Rich had to jet back to Dayton, and I barely remember them leaving, for I was getting a little toasted. Steve, Kendall, Meghan, myself and another guy I can't remember the name of went to Camp Washington chili for after-bar sustenance, then for crucial passing out time.

So as I walked down to Jen Lee's in the morning sunshine I had a bit of a headache. She made some espresso and coffee and that helped. We went downtown to pick up Erin and her boyfriend Aaron, then zoomed over to Kings Mills and sequestered ourselves creekside by the bike trail. The day was intensely beautiful, with a changing pallet of sky that would alternately be cloudy and open fiery shafts of light down on us. The creek felt perfect, not to warm, not too cold. We spent the day laughing and I regaled them with my tales of Chinese adventure, tried to come up with a sexual deviant term for "Root Beer Encore." I had brought my hose organ and serenaded a canoeing couple with a chorus of "Row row row your boat."

After hours of playing in and out of the creek, we explored the Peters Cartridge Co, an old gunpowder factory. The place was massive, replete with catwalks, industrial machinery, trees and bushes growing up through the heart of it, towers and smokestacks bearded with spiral ivy, beaming a capital "P" and emblazoned with turquoise tilework, an elegant touch for a machinery garden. It was very "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" in appearance. I was very nervous of getting caught as "No trespassing, violators will be prosecuted" was stenciled every few feet. But, we got out with no trouble and drove back into Clifton, securing an Adriatico's pizza and taking in the sky show, a sunset so incredible it made you want to applaud afterwards.

Jen Lee was starting to fall asleep on the floor so I thanked her for a lovely day and said goodbye to Erin and Aaron (perhaps being around so many Aaron/Erin people was exhausting) got my free ice cream cone at Graeter's and walked back up the hill home. I got to chat with Heather for bit on the phone, which was delightful. I miss not being able to ride my bike across town and see her. She sent me a package which contained various things, but most importantly the children's book "The Five Chinese Brothers." We had talked about it while in China and she had tracked it down. I shall have to send her "Strega Nona" for her birthday.

Steve, Janet and I went down to Cooper's (rapidly becoming the new Shirley's) and sang and drank. The bartender gave me a shot of Jagermeister on the house and other rounds were bought for me throughout the night. The cheese and ice cream from before had destroyed my voice and I barely made it through "Stand and Deliver" and "Dream Police." Closing time happened and Janet took us back up to the place where I crashed like the stock market.

audioscrobbler image

i found this new code to create an image based on your audioscrobbler listens.

check it out:



obviously, i'd limit it somewhat, like maybe to three tracks, so it'd be less offensive in forums. like this, maybe:



only thing is, the forums i use on any regular basis either don't allow images, or don't allow these dynamic ones.

oh well.

Praying Mantis Eats Hummingbird

dude, check this out:

Praying Mantis Eats Hummingbird

crazy. here's a pic:



i had no idea.

mindful passions and notes from the VMA advert

The malaise has lifted. I vocalized to Steve about possibly returning to China, feeling lost in limbo and such and he reminded me how I felt weird three months into living abroad and how ready I was to leave at the end (which was more advanced than summer-itis). Heather wrote me a maginificent email expanding on these same themes and also to remind me that I returned to concentrate on my music. Whatever job I take, I'm not "backpedaling", I'm doing what I must to make the recordings happen. If I jet back to China already, then I'm backpedaling on my passions.

I borrowed Stephanie's keyboard again, set it up in the living room. Just being able to play it was an incredible burden-lift. My soul felt like green food coloring put into a glass of water. It was cooped up and now that it's mixing, spreading out, being colorful, breathing, I'm feeling like myself again. I'll need help with rhythm tracks and Steve said he would contribute, as did Dana and Sam. After nine months of playing piano nearly every day, the practice and routine becomes a part of you. It's my meditation time, and I was getting stagnant without it.

I went up to Mecklenburg's (after spending most of the afternoon playing the keyboard) and got myself hired back, starting Monday. That was it. Easy. I don't need to be concerned with the inner workings or how things are different. All I need to be concerned with is doing my job so I can further my creative expliots. I don't live at the restaurant so it won't consume my life. I can forget about it. I didn't have that luxury in China, which I just now realize added to my itchy bum to leave. I could go somewhere for the weekend or holiday but it was always in the back of my mind that I had to have a lesson plan for the next week. I'm back in America where I don't need to use my brain as much for work. More time can be dedicated skullwise to music, writing, compiling skits and commercial parodies to film with Chance, all kinds of stuff. So things are looking up, seems like the world was just waiting for me to voice my discomfort so it could change things in a day and make me look foolish.

In other news, this last week I did PA work on a commercial for MTV's video music awards (which I've not watched since the mid-90's. None of the live performances have sounded interesting nor familiar in a long time. Who the fuck is "Yellowcard"?) Monday a truck loaded in 20 tons of sand at a big studio warehouse space on Paddock Road. The back wall was painted green so they could fill in sky and ocean later. It makes me wonder why they didn't film it in Miami itself, seemed like less hassle. Me and Alec, a fifteen year old whose father is a grip, shoveled and spread like madmen. I sweated out of every pore, bridge of the nose, knuckles, back of the hands, cheeks, you name it. And it felt good. I've always enjoyed manual labor type stuff: digging a pig roast pit, splitting wood; anything where I can get exercise, feel productive, sweat and not have to wear a shirt. You get into a rhythm and your mind is quieted, a tranquility washes over. That gives way after a while to the persistent thought: "Goddamn I'm sore and I'm likely going to get a ass-crack rash if this keeps up."

We smoothed the sand, built up a bunker in the back which they kept asking us to redo for a straight line. A straight line was difficult to achieve because the back wall was curved at the bottom like a half pipe, as were the side walls. It was an illusion we were fighting against and we had to run up front and look through the camera to see if that particular attempt was successful. Eventually it was.

The guy painting had two adopted Chinese daughters and I tried some of my Mandarin, but they looked at me and said "What does THAT mean?" in American little kid accents. Oh well. They were having steamed dumplings for lunch and I meant to ask where they got them, for they looked fairly authentic. At around 5:30 we finished and I walked home (which was about 5 miles). I meant to catch a bus when I found a familiar route but it was too much fun walking and exploring. I challenged myself to get back from wherever I was and I did it, not that it was very challenging since I had I-75 as a guide. Laura J and Steve thought I was crazy, and it was extremely hot outside, but I had water and conviction, and it got me back safe.

The next day, Steve dropped me off at 7:30 and I helped direct talent where to go while I drank coffee. It was a bit of a Cincinnati music who's who with Bill Wolverton, Scott Fredette, Abiyah and myself there. Had we instruments, we could have jammed between takes. My friend Paul was a friend of the director and came by to don a mullet wig and sodomize a stuffed unicorn. I hope it's in the commercial when it airs. I was worried the whole day that the shoot wouldn't end on time and that I would be late for the evening's festivities.

After lunch they did a couple more shots of crowd close-ups then cut everyone but one girl. I put chairs away, cleaned up here and there, asked around if anyone needed assistance trying to maximize efficiency and minimize idle time. After the scene of filming the fake P Diddy arm pulling the girl into the soda machine, it was a wrap. I waited outside for Abiyah to pick me up, read my Joe R Lansdale book some more.

She dropped me off, I showered, was picked up by Aaron who drove us to Riverbend for the Coldplay show. He's in Sean's band Malahida (formerly Euphio?) and their new stuff is awesome. We found Sean, Al, Erica and Danielle on the right side of the lawn. We spread the blanket, Al spiked my Sprite with some rum, Coldplay took the stage and although I'm not that familiar with their catalogue, had an enjoyable evening.

Sean and I had to bail a little early since our ride was encumbered with inebriated friends and we had to beat them to the car before they left without us. Sean took me on back and I felt a little uneasy, catching a vibe that perhaps he was pissed at having to cart me around. I tried to keep the conversation light and happy and trying not to sound too obvious at it. Perhaps I was projecting my malaise on others, imagining them seeing me as a broke pathetic lump. The PA gig paid $300 but I won't see it for likely a month. They have to send in the invoices and then the company cuts the checks and mails them out. Very inefficent, very bureaucratic. When it arrives, it'll be like Christmas money because I will have forgotten about it. I love little moments like that, there aren't enough of them.

P.S. The commercial will start airing this Saturday and then ad nauseum until the awards.

Gnoosic - Discover new Music

Here's a neat site: Gnoosic takes your initial three band choices and lists other bands you might like, one-by-one, constantly adjusting the next choice based on whether you like/don't like the current choice.

a rosy-fingered dawn in Toastville

Things are beginning to take shape, roll forward. Steve and I are nearly done with the first Montana & McDeviltoast song "Punishment Horse," a Devo-esque tune with a catchy chorus melody. When we were at the Ilove show at the Southgate House, people asked if we were performing, which was flattering after such an absence. And dammit, had we known about it we could have done a Hogscraper tune in homage. Meadoe did a Haywards song, and Lumens did my favorite Afghan Whigs. I got to see Chocolate Horse reprise their Michael McDonald personas from the 80's show and do "Taking It to the Streets." Crazy costumes and throwing food; the ghosts of Fudgie and Fufu were beaming. Well, perhaps just Fudgie.

Lisa told me that David spoke highly of me and was sad I was going to China, which was reassuring. To that I answered, "Well, he could have picked up the phone and said it to me." Another bit of closure and justification before my birthday. A couple people came up to me and told me they enjoyed reading my journals. Seems my readership is more vast than I realized. It's both flattering and a little eerie.

Last night, Steve, Gabe and I went down to Cooper's on Main to sing karaoke. It was a blast. Their selection kicks ass and at the beginning of the night it was none too crowded, so we got to sing about five times. I believe it may be our new Shirley's for Sunday nights. I did all new first-time songs including Muse "Time is Running Out," Radiohead's "Paranoid Android" (which I was absolutely stunned they had) Queen's "Bicycle Race," and David Bowie's "Space Oddity."

Monday and Tuesday I'm going to be working on a commercial for MTV's VMAs as a production assistant, which means I'll be shoveling sand for the mock-beach. I had run into Molly at Lite Brite and she got me hooked up with the PA gigs again. The bad news is the pay won't arrive for about a month, a check-in-the-mail type of deal, but at least I won't feel idle and useless.

I emailed Rose about teaching again this September (just in case things really go pants in Cincinnati) and in her cute broken English wrote:

Hello,Willis (just like class 8) Very glad to hear from you.It is summer vocation now.I relax myself at home.I came to school this morning and found your E-mail.I am very happy to have you work with us.But I have to ask Principal Shen.He is now studying in Naijing.Tomorrow I will go to Hainan Island.I won't be back until 14th of this month.Would you please wait for my answer? Rose

Adorable. Even if nothing comes out of it, it's making me feel better to have that "out." If I did another stint in China I would be able to save more money this time around. I wouldn't travel as much and wouldn't accumulate so many presents. Could I go back after only such a short time in the states? Certainly. I'd have Rhys and Jeni to hang with, as well as the new teachers in Haimen. Another year of teaching experience would beef up my resume, and I would learn a lot more Chinese. This is a back-up plan, and one reliant on whether things just absolutely don't work out here. In a week or two I might have a better idea about things. Giving myself options helps.

random links i've collected

here are a couple things i've found/remembered on the internets lately:

• Hot People by Zip Code: ineveitable, i suppose, that someone would cross the Hot or Not page with the Google Maps page. To quote the football player from Bill & Ted's Excellect Adventure, "...it's computers."
• Don't forget that Giorgio Moroder deserves a pyramid.
• Audioscrobbler is launching a new version of their site. Awesome.
• Freezepop have covered a song by Sparks, one of my favorite bands. You can hear it / download it from their profile on myspace. [Note: we here at the QEG also heavily endorse Freezepop; DJ Empirical opened for them a couple years ago, and it was great fun.]
  

some stuff

[now playing: enduser: comparing paths]

the weekend is almost over, and i haven't even caught up on the week. bleh.

mcdeviltoast and i have nearly finished our debut song, "Punishment Horse". i've played guitar more in the last couple weekends than i have in the last few months combined. crazy. i like the song, it's real dumb. we still need to go in and add vocals, plus i need to redo the temporary bass guitar track and add a new drums track to replace the generic beat we're using as a glorified click track. our futue songs should go much faster, as far as recording goes.

oh! i almost forgot to mention that schädel got a request from a couple internet friends to "remix" a goofy answering machine message, so he did. check it out here:

schädel "708 Masterpiece (feat. DSad)"

good times.

in other news, baby kitty finally made it into NYC proper, with an apartment and everything. good luck to her! maybe she'll blog some, while she's there.

ummm... what else?

oh, i went over to roesing's place to have a "Mr. T Party", which is a goofy way to say that he ripped my sealed (until that moment) VHS copy of Be Somebody or Be Somebody's Fool, a straight-to-video Mr T vehicle serving ostensibly as a kids' motivational/inspirational tape, but more often simply reflecting the worst of early 80s fashion. I'd give you a blow-by-blow of the video, but there's already one out there that's much better than i could do.

I also had him dump the audio for me; it'll appear in some QEG track or another.

So yeah, that's about it, i guess. check back later or something.

moab pics p. 3

the legendary crack heist



january and kev



annie and elise



porchmongers



cora and 'toast



uriia



iris



chance and vista at canyonlands



a raven in tim burton's tree



"park avenue" in arches national park



balanced rock



north window



windows garden



north window deux



delicate arch at sunset









'toast in situ in desert bliss

moab pics p.2

the pool my lungs created



bruce fountain



brandy's art opening



zeah, david, 'toast, and bruce



moabian splendour



gorgeousness and gorgeousity made flesh



gnarly



island in the sky in canyonlands



brutus troubadour



moabian sunset

the three decade threshold

(at the time of this writing, i'm trying to shrug off a bad dream in which some high school kids stole my backpack and i had important stuff that they just ripped up or kept and laughed at and after i did my report i saw hem on the street but i couldn't get to them to strangle them because of slippery ice on the ground. very frustrating ordeal. the worst part was just the intensity of the anger, very un-buddhist, very un-aaron. i don't get angry. i just get "passionately disappointed.")

Some good things that have happened: reuniting with friends, but with some of them, after a few minutes it's all the same. Perhaps I placed too much importance, missed them too much for there to ever be a balance. Or maybe it's a symptom of Cincinnati I had forgotten: to take everything in stride with a negative coating, for if nothing gets to you, then one can tread water here and not care. I don't want to be like that. I have too much love to share. If people have up delflector shields that keep out happy and hurt both, I'm not going to waste my time.

At the Lite Brite festival at the Southgate House I got to be involved with a live Romper Room taping, explore role play as a five year old again. I was clumsy, loved gumballs, was bad at hula hooping, good at drawing pictures, shy, didn't like David Garza as a clown. The set made it very easy to get into character. Since it was on the third floor in a small area, the fire marshall only let in a few people, then he and his three cronies (whose presence upped the maximum occupancy past his own estimate) took pictures of the event.

Steve and I have started working on "Punishment Horse," a very Devo-esque song still in the beginning stages. We're entertaining the idea of busting out a gentle EP this weekend of song titles taken from my Chinglish shirts like "Over the RainRow," "Airplane Surprised," "Bass, does it swell?" and such.

I have some callbacks and prospects jobwise. An interview today at Habanero. Sean's trying to swing something for me at Boca, and Molly put me in contact with someone working on a commercial this weekend. Things are rolling.

On the ESL front, the more research I do on Western Europe, the more apparent it is that they only hire people from England. It makes sense, they don't have to fly as far, and they're in the EU. But dammit, it's not fair. So I'm starting to look at South America or Mexico, beat them at their own game. Spain has put through a law that makes it easier for Americans to get employed as teachers, so maybe the rest of Western Europe can follow. I've also started my application to the Peace Corps. Thumb in many pies, that's me.

I got a computer from Gabe so I can work on tunes and not have it freeze up like my old one. I'm very eager to begin recording my songs. I have to borrow a keyboard from Stephanie again.

I miss Mike and Heather, Rhys and Jeni, and Lindsey who is returning to China in less than a month. I'm envious. I've gotten used to living life out of a suitcase. Home is the journey, the constant is being in transit, and life is anticipating getting somewhere. I don't like feeling "planted" even if it's only a brief year. I've outgrown my old life, perhaps.

Things are supposed to solidify when you turn 30. Loose ends tied up from the 20's, onward you march with wisdom and quiet resolve, a calm behind the eyes. A little over a week, the transformation will be official. I will have reached my critical Jesus years, to parlez all I've learned and "arrive." I am ready. I feel I've progressed right on schedule. Maybe this "limbo" haze was to get me to acknowledge it, add weight to the event, let me release the 20's with a "Finally!" instead of some desperate clawing as I'm dragged over the three decade threshold.

CityBeat's "Locals Only"

check it: my third column for CityBeat came out today. It's an interview/profile piece on Robert Inhuman of Realicide: "A Much-Needed Dose of Realicide"

Please note that:

• I'm aware of (and not responsible for) the title typo in the online version.
• Any lack of style is due to editing.
• I'm only half joking about the previous point.
• My favorite paragraph was removed.
  

The image was taken by me, as well. It's not the best photo in the world, but i like it, and i think it suits Robert's personality.

moab pics p. 1

until the cincinnati groove gets going and i can blog about something besides job hunting and feeling weird, here are some pictures.


McDorkiltoast



Ambassadors Double A & BC



The Rhyme Swing Embassy in Moab



Brandy and Luke



Toast, Bruce, and Cheech



MudDeviltoast