Woot. Run At The Dog (shortform henceforth: R@TD) played Lee's Liquor Lounge last night, their second full-blown show with new drummer Jake.
Tuesday nights are rough for shows, as their were only 20-30 people present, most of which had been in bands with or have played with R@TD's members in some capacity. The rest of the onlookers were regular sops or other musicians on the bill, including a vaguely entertaining lecherous twit with a fake 'stache, chops, and stuffed trousers.
Downside: not enough people saw them.
Upside: everyone in attendance got a far bigger share of goodness.
I brought my neighbor, Doug, to observe the proceedings. He'd heard some of the stuff from the Song Fu sessions and was impressed enough to go to an 11:30 pm show despite work in the early am.
I've seen R@TD play enough to keep my jaw hinged properly, so when possible, I like to bring new people to their shows so I can observe how they react.
We set up a little further back, as I'd been charged with creating media documentation of the event, which really just means Jake (the new guy) handed me his videocam and Maureen handed me her camera.
Doug's reaction pleased me. He recorded about half the show on his phone. Of course, the the show's volume crisped his phone's mic, so it sounds about like any of the times I've called people from concerts to leave them voicemails of their favorite songs, but anyhow....
It means the boy was damn impressed, which makes me happy, as it was a damn impressive show.
I was too busy juggling cameras to get too specific a read, otherwise I'd be more inclusive, but a smidge of highlights will have to suffice...
Noon Moon live? There might have been a hiccup or two near the beginning, but this song blew everyone away. The lumbering tension of the first portions of the song was a little more straightforward than the Fu version, dropping a little of its faint menace. Whether that was planned or merely the result of being live and LOUD AS FUCK, I don't know. But when it turns to the shimmering finale, I wanted to engage in some epic pogoing, even though pogoing is one of the least appropriate dance steps for the occasion, especially if you're minding a DV cam that's lighter than the tripod it's on.
The closer, Two Days to Remember, typically has a gap in the middle of it where they'll improv something or medleyize another song in, but last night they opted to hand their instruments off to audience members (or invite to their rigs where applicable) and went outside and played in the snow for a bit. They came back in, finished the song, and there was much rejoicing.
I hauled Moe's keyboard out to her car so she could avoid the previously-mentioned mustachioed idjit a little bit longer, then left to drop Doug off.
It was a good night.
And now, I prep to go to work.
Oh, and a P.S., although I really don't think post scriptum applies in this situation.
I've built myself a little writing desk in my room. I'll be writing all those difficult, creepy and incriminating entries in notebooks again, as my two-year experiment in pseudo-emotional full-disclosure has either made people think I was depressed or not read my scribblings at all, so to hell with that. Also, journaling on paper provides opportunity for doodling, which, lacking classes to go to and be bored by, I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed.
11.12.2008
11.11.2008
Loss, Acceptance, and Reality
This is going to be a short one, as I have work to do.
For the time being, I'm done fighting myself. I've put myself in this position, so I'm going to try working with it.
I bitch because I thought the job I took three months ago was going to solve all my problems.
Well, I did help some, but it created many new ones, the most monstrous of which is a tremendous sense of isolation.
I am a social bastard, which is to say I LIKE being around people. It's why I was a damn fine bartender or record store clerk. It's why I liked living in Vermillion under the circumstances I did. There were always people around to do things with, many of them agreeable.
My big cure job, which I do enjoy, by the way, keeps me at work while all of my social contacts here in Minneapolis are actually active. The job itself is very isolated by nature. I sit with headphones on for eight hours and smoke cigarettes to talk as an excuse more to interact with people more than actual desire to smoke.
How's that for a fucking realization? Cigarettes are no longer the main reason to smoke.
Anyhow, the whole point of what I'm blathering about is that for three months, I've been trying to go to bed because no one is up past when I get home from work. The harder I try to go to bed so maybe the morning can be productive, the more likely I am to waste my life on the internet till six or seven in the morning, sleep only till ten out of guilt, resume internet uselessness, go to work underslept and repeat.
Well, goddam, son. I'm rebuilding my half of the apartment tonight. Obvious, eh?
Get shit done after work, get a sense of accomplishment, sleep at least somewhat fulfilled, and go to work a little more lively.
That's the plan, chief.
That's the plan.
j.
For the time being, I'm done fighting myself. I've put myself in this position, so I'm going to try working with it.
I bitch because I thought the job I took three months ago was going to solve all my problems.
Well, I did help some, but it created many new ones, the most monstrous of which is a tremendous sense of isolation.
I am a social bastard, which is to say I LIKE being around people. It's why I was a damn fine bartender or record store clerk. It's why I liked living in Vermillion under the circumstances I did. There were always people around to do things with, many of them agreeable.
My big cure job, which I do enjoy, by the way, keeps me at work while all of my social contacts here in Minneapolis are actually active. The job itself is very isolated by nature. I sit with headphones on for eight hours and smoke cigarettes to talk as an excuse more to interact with people more than actual desire to smoke.
How's that for a fucking realization? Cigarettes are no longer the main reason to smoke.
Anyhow, the whole point of what I'm blathering about is that for three months, I've been trying to go to bed because no one is up past when I get home from work. The harder I try to go to bed so maybe the morning can be productive, the more likely I am to waste my life on the internet till six or seven in the morning, sleep only till ten out of guilt, resume internet uselessness, go to work underslept and repeat.
Well, goddam, son. I'm rebuilding my half of the apartment tonight. Obvious, eh?
Get shit done after work, get a sense of accomplishment, sleep at least somewhat fulfilled, and go to work a little more lively.
That's the plan, chief.
That's the plan.
j.
11.07.2008
Tales of a hood...
Jumping up and down on that mother fucker felt GOOD. Then I reattached it. One busted hose fitting, but it's the coolant overflow, which isn't urgent until I need AC. Quite drivable.
All in all, I came out lucky, despite the massive bad luck that put me into the position to be lucky.
And now to work.
this is a life...
All in all, I came out lucky, despite the massive bad luck that put me into the position to be lucky.
And now to work.
this is a life...
Ha Ha Sob
Less than 48 hours after I got the car running again, some guy on the interstate jammed his brakes on. Squishy brakes and rainslicked pavement formed a hazardous duo.
Since his jeep was completely okay, he hopped back in and drove off as I asked about insurance. His rear-mounted spare tire had mulched my grill and crumpled my hood.
I drove it home all right, although it hisses a little. I'm a little grumpy since the humor wore off.
I've had a little trouble caring, though not in the way I usually define as good. I've now wasted nearly an entire day in which I could have been sorting things out, looking for pinched hoses or radiator leaks. It would take 15 minutes to remove the hood, walk on it till it's flat, bolt it back on and tarp-strap it back down.
I'm not even interested in that.
Saying that made me feel better. I'm gonna go tear that sucker apart and see if I can get it to at least take me to work today.
j.
Since his jeep was completely okay, he hopped back in and drove off as I asked about insurance. His rear-mounted spare tire had mulched my grill and crumpled my hood.
I drove it home all right, although it hisses a little. I'm a little grumpy since the humor wore off.
I've had a little trouble caring, though not in the way I usually define as good. I've now wasted nearly an entire day in which I could have been sorting things out, looking for pinched hoses or radiator leaks. It would take 15 minutes to remove the hood, walk on it till it's flat, bolt it back on and tarp-strap it back down.
I'm not even interested in that.
Saying that made me feel better. I'm gonna go tear that sucker apart and see if I can get it to at least take me to work today.
j.
11.04.2008
Masculinity restored...
I shall now walk less, but with great swagger.
The beast it runneth, runneth now.
Car's running and insured and I did it myself.
My balls feel larger.
Almost back to normal.
j.
The beast it runneth, runneth now.
Car's running and insured and I did it myself.
My balls feel larger.
Almost back to normal.
j.
10.22.2008
10.09.2008
Never too soon, always too late, and right on time is overrated
You know what's worse than the demons getting you?
Them not getting you. Teasing you. Revealing themselves to you but not sealing the goddam deal.
The funny thing about trying to impose order on chaos is that while some results may be desirable, on the whole it just gets more chaotic.
I'm off work by midnight and home by 20 to 1. The first two months working there I was actually climbing into bed around 3 or 4.
That was wreaking havoc on my mornings, so I've been trying to force myself to bed sooner.
So far, I've been in bed and asleep by 2 once, 3 twice and after 6 many times.
My life would like me to leave well enough alone, apparently.
This country is fucked. No Obama can save us. No McCain will make things worse (although Palin is providing unprecedented comedy).
This country is fucked. People intently watch and fervently analyze the debates with half the passion I put into my fantasy football teams. I'm coming out ahead.
This country is fucked. Two terms is not enough time to fix the economy, and any real attempt to do so will guarantee a single term. If party B's president tries to fix it in one term or two and party A wins the next election, party A will immediately distance themselves from what might have been sound policy simply because it was unpopular.
Don't kid yourself and think if party B wins again they'd do anything different.
To pass the time and to get ahead in life as well, I enjoy making games of mundane activities. It helps make the dreary a little more lively.
But fuck these parties for fucking everything up. Managing the country, which ought be the priority, has taken such a backseat to trendiness.
Hey, I used to blame the conservatives and Republicans for polarizing the fuck out of everything until I realized it was mutually beneficial to both sides.
Hey, with each passing year since the '8os, it's grown exponentially trendier to get involved in the Democratic party while in high school.
Of course, tit for tat, young Republicans stepped up to bat as well.
As the well we draw from gets more and more tainted, both parties grow stronger. Why? The other guys did it.
On the other hand, though, you know something?
You know how I keep saying this country is fucked?
It doesn't matter. It's not like gorgeous America's still bleeding.
Our nation is a self-absorbed zombie. It's dead, but ain't no one killing it.
Seriously. If nations were people, would you fuck with the well-armed dude who owed you 50 billion dollars?
It's why I kind of like the idea of a President Palin.
Evangelical twitwat or not, the over/under on her isn't much different than anyone else.
Which in a way, sort of takes us back to that beautifully inspiring misconception this country's people so naively held for almost 200 years: anyone could grow up to be president.
But to be practical for a moment, if McCain were to be elected president and died, she would be advised by the same people that were advising him, who are roughly equivalent to the same people who are advising Obama.
Of course, that means Obama ought win. If the role of the president is to be a charming orator and functionally perform the wishes of the handlers, then he can call the landslide now.
Oops, but he's black
But wait. Does that matter?
No. There's just as many blacks that will vote for him because he's black, if not more, than whites who will vote for McCain, just because he'll look better in the parish scrapbook (just don't ask Carol).
Hell yeah, this country's racist. Don't deny it away, but don't deify it either. Deal with it.
That's another place where all the things that are supposed to help people have failed miserably.
Two things that have helped foster the most animosity down the racial divide are government and Christian churches.
A citizen should put the well-being of nation over his life and a Christian should dedicate his life to being Christ-like.
As for the latter, obviously I don't care. You can be a good person without magic tricks or generous reviews from Flavius Josephus.
With the former, while I hope it's obvious that I'm not anti-American, I can see how some people might get that idea.
I love America. But there's a difference between dying for America and dying for American interests, and that's why I keep my mouth shut around most veterans.
Actually, the modern modes of the military and the church are quite similar. All the eggs in one basket, and if anyone suggests a different basket or a diversification of baskets, it invalidates what they've done, so naturally they get touchy.
I mean, if someone suggested to me that fantasy football was not a pleasurable way to enjoy one's time, I would probably be quite irate. I may even seem like an irrational bully (who may or may not have had one too many).
The thing that gets me the most about all of this politicking in general is that I'm old enough where I'm not concerned about me. I'm strong enough and wily enough to survive whatever the next ten years brings, assuming the worst, and I'm impractical and foolish enough to enjoy the silliness it all will be, provided the best.
But now seems like a real shitty time to have kids. Every politician-cum-president from now until the day we die will be selling the future of the kids I don't have yet trying to stabilize right now.
Of course, not that I advocate this in the least, but America would be in better shape if they'd followed a little bit of the Koran's advice.
Credit BAD! Loans BAD!
Gambling is all fine and well when you can afford to do it for fun, but nobody whoever played poker because they had to ever came out ahead in the long run.
Really, how hard is it to figure out? Don't spend money you don't have, unless you have parents that can bail you out (thanks, Jim and Mavis, time and time again!) without bankrupting them.
I honestly believe this country would be a better place if everyone in this country who has never had/gotten to eat ramen ate it for the next year straight.
On that note, I'm going to wrap this up.
I'm going to watch some of the best television ever produced, which I bought today and shouldn't have, because I only had the funds to buy it because I sold a bunch of DVDs to buy enough ramen and bus passes and buy-one-get-one-free Marlboro 27s to last me to my next paycheck.
To me, I present the first season of Six Feet Under.
The rest of you, please, keep enjoying the juggling act that will theoretically affect the future.
j.
Them not getting you. Teasing you. Revealing themselves to you but not sealing the goddam deal.
The funny thing about trying to impose order on chaos is that while some results may be desirable, on the whole it just gets more chaotic.
I'm off work by midnight and home by 20 to 1. The first two months working there I was actually climbing into bed around 3 or 4.
That was wreaking havoc on my mornings, so I've been trying to force myself to bed sooner.
So far, I've been in bed and asleep by 2 once, 3 twice and after 6 many times.
My life would like me to leave well enough alone, apparently.
This country is fucked. No Obama can save us. No McCain will make things worse (although Palin is providing unprecedented comedy).
This country is fucked. People intently watch and fervently analyze the debates with half the passion I put into my fantasy football teams. I'm coming out ahead.
This country is fucked. Two terms is not enough time to fix the economy, and any real attempt to do so will guarantee a single term. If party B's president tries to fix it in one term or two and party A wins the next election, party A will immediately distance themselves from what might have been sound policy simply because it was unpopular.
Don't kid yourself and think if party B wins again they'd do anything different.
To pass the time and to get ahead in life as well, I enjoy making games of mundane activities. It helps make the dreary a little more lively.
But fuck these parties for fucking everything up. Managing the country, which ought be the priority, has taken such a backseat to trendiness.
Hey, I used to blame the conservatives and Republicans for polarizing the fuck out of everything until I realized it was mutually beneficial to both sides.
Hey, with each passing year since the '8os, it's grown exponentially trendier to get involved in the Democratic party while in high school.
Of course, tit for tat, young Republicans stepped up to bat as well.
As the well we draw from gets more and more tainted, both parties grow stronger. Why? The other guys did it.
On the other hand, though, you know something?
You know how I keep saying this country is fucked?
It doesn't matter. It's not like gorgeous America's still bleeding.
Our nation is a self-absorbed zombie. It's dead, but ain't no one killing it.
Seriously. If nations were people, would you fuck with the well-armed dude who owed you 50 billion dollars?
It's why I kind of like the idea of a President Palin.
Evangelical twitwat or not, the over/under on her isn't much different than anyone else.
Which in a way, sort of takes us back to that beautifully inspiring misconception this country's people so naively held for almost 200 years: anyone could grow up to be president.
But to be practical for a moment, if McCain were to be elected president and died, she would be advised by the same people that were advising him, who are roughly equivalent to the same people who are advising Obama.
Of course, that means Obama ought win. If the role of the president is to be a charming orator and functionally perform the wishes of the handlers, then he can call the landslide now.
Oops, but he's black
But wait. Does that matter?
No. There's just as many blacks that will vote for him because he's black, if not more, than whites who will vote for McCain, just because he'll look better in the parish scrapbook (just don't ask Carol).
Hell yeah, this country's racist. Don't deny it away, but don't deify it either. Deal with it.
That's another place where all the things that are supposed to help people have failed miserably.
Two things that have helped foster the most animosity down the racial divide are government and Christian churches.
A citizen should put the well-being of nation over his life and a Christian should dedicate his life to being Christ-like.
As for the latter, obviously I don't care. You can be a good person without magic tricks or generous reviews from Flavius Josephus.
With the former, while I hope it's obvious that I'm not anti-American, I can see how some people might get that idea.
I love America. But there's a difference between dying for America and dying for American interests, and that's why I keep my mouth shut around most veterans.
Actually, the modern modes of the military and the church are quite similar. All the eggs in one basket, and if anyone suggests a different basket or a diversification of baskets, it invalidates what they've done, so naturally they get touchy.
I mean, if someone suggested to me that fantasy football was not a pleasurable way to enjoy one's time, I would probably be quite irate. I may even seem like an irrational bully (who may or may not have had one too many).
The thing that gets me the most about all of this politicking in general is that I'm old enough where I'm not concerned about me. I'm strong enough and wily enough to survive whatever the next ten years brings, assuming the worst, and I'm impractical and foolish enough to enjoy the silliness it all will be, provided the best.
But now seems like a real shitty time to have kids. Every politician-cum-president from now until the day we die will be selling the future of the kids I don't have yet trying to stabilize right now.
Of course, not that I advocate this in the least, but America would be in better shape if they'd followed a little bit of the Koran's advice.
Credit BAD! Loans BAD!
Gambling is all fine and well when you can afford to do it for fun, but nobody whoever played poker because they had to ever came out ahead in the long run.
Really, how hard is it to figure out? Don't spend money you don't have, unless you have parents that can bail you out (thanks, Jim and Mavis, time and time again!) without bankrupting them.
I honestly believe this country would be a better place if everyone in this country who has never had/gotten to eat ramen ate it for the next year straight.
On that note, I'm going to wrap this up.
I'm going to watch some of the best television ever produced, which I bought today and shouldn't have, because I only had the funds to buy it because I sold a bunch of DVDs to buy enough ramen and bus passes and buy-one-get-one-free Marlboro 27s to last me to my next paycheck.
To me, I present the first season of Six Feet Under.
The rest of you, please, keep enjoying the juggling act that will theoretically affect the future.
j.
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