Adventures:
A lot of the time I feel like someone who just sitssss around. I think that's what people think of me as too. Which is weird, because I do a good amount of moving and shaking. Sure, sometimes there will be a week or two where I'll see a lot of my computer screen and hardly any friendly faces, but I think a lot of other people do this a lot of the time too. Maybe I just feel this way, and everyone else feels this way too, but they do a better job of hiding it than me. Or maybe they all feel it too? Maybe we all feel like "do-nothing" losers all the time? Anyways,
I'm going to talk about the events of Saturday, April 18th.
I believe it began somewhat innocently with the usual morning routine of hygiene, breakfast, and medication. Next I finished making the mix CD for Molly's birthday party, which I am supposed to attend at Golden Gate Park at 2pm. It is entitled "Birthdays, Happiness, Sunshine, and Love (Not Necessarily in Order)" and involves hand-made art in a re-usable origami CD case. I think this is a pretty good gift from one college friend to another?
Anyways, I hopped on the bus at 1:15ish to head up to the park by 2. Molly told me she was going to be late herself and I had to be in Berkeley by 4, so I actually didn't end up going to the park at all. I gave the CD to some mutual friends on the bus to deliver to Molly. Hope she likes it, guess I'll know tomorrow. Traffic was pretty heavy and the 28 to 71 all the way to Embarcadero took a good deal of time. The wait for BART wasn't too bad and it looked like I was going to arrive at Downtown Berkeley at about 3:30. Perfect time to walk over to Rasputin for the Silversun Pickups instore at 4. Ava had called me earlier and reminded me about this. I decided I would very much like to go since I heard them during the Coachella webcast the night prior while waiting for Paul McCartney. I really like the song Lazy Eye from Guitar Hero/Rock Band, and the music video for it is good as well. Also, cute girl bass player.
Anyways, this would've worked out fine, but for the FIGHT on BART. At the West Oakland station (hm), two upstanding African-American males had some sort of disagreement about something or other and were promptly (3ish minutes) removed from the train. For some reason though the train had to stay in the station in wait for about 10 more minutes even after the men were removed and detained by the BART police. Weird. Still enough time to make it to Rasputin right at 4... but getting there on time doesn't work for a band that just played Coachella the night before. As I begin to slither my way through the crowd gathered in the street around the door I run into Johann from that one house show in Berkeley, and also his band-mate. They were called.. Dorian? maybe. I don't remember. He works at Blondie's pizza. Ava shows up and we have fun taunting the security guards and riling up the crowd to attempt some civil disobedience and force our way into the store. People from the inside take pictures of us and we all give them the middle finger. The security guards don't like this and close and lock the doors, making it so we can barely hear the Silversuns, who have started playing by now. There's lots of room left in the store, the guards are just douche bags. But that's life. Resistance turns to begging turns to calm serenity. The crowd sings along to the muffled sounds of "Lazy Eye" floating through the crack in the door. It was beautiful actually.
Moving on, I'm alone in Berkeley and it's Cal Day! I attempt to use the program gifted to me by Ava to find my way to an activity but it turns out they're all over by now. I begin strolling the campus, wading through the remnants of what appears to have been a crazy and exciting day. I vaguely toy with the idea of trying to find someone from the music department to ask about Cal Band (do you have trombones or baritones or both?) but it's no dice and I'm just left to wander. Wander, wander, wander in the beautiful sun. There's nothing wrong with being alone right then, because I'm in a place which I love, and feel loved just being in. The most concrete goal in my life at this point is to attend that school in a year or two. Hopefully it works out. After an attempted wedding crashing, a mistaken stroll into a girls restroom, and a brief viewing of a "hip hop" music convention, dinner is provided by a Chipotle gift card. I guess my one complaint about that town is that they put so little cheese in the Quesadilla's. They sound bring over some of the guys from Market Street SF to stuff their dillers. Anyways.
Thrift and record perusing stimulates the mind until it's time to take the south-bound bus to Oakland. Did you know that AC transit costs $1.75 and there's no free transfer? SF Muni wins for sure. But then again that's probably why they're in a huge budget deficit and might be increasing fare as high as $2+. Oh well, it's good while it lasts.
I arrive at the house right around eight, alone. You see, what had happened was... this was supposed to be a show held at a venue type of place. At the last minute it got moved to a house so I figured I would just go anyways. It turned out to be sort of a housewarming/birthday party.. where everyone seemed to know each other except for me! The first couple of hours were awkward, awkward, awkward. Random short conversations here and there explaining my situation. Everyone was nice though, and probably would've talked more if I had made the effort. Sometimes you just don't feel like barging into people's little groups though. The bands start playing. First is a fellow strumming simple chords on an Epiphone SG look-a-like who's guitar is way too loud and voice is way too lilting. He seemed nice though. Next we're treated to a guy with a REALLY cool vintage looking Stratocaster. Well, some kind of modern re-issue or re-make of one anyways. He played complicated finger-picking things, but with a really grungey tone and sometimes in non-standard tunings. He had a friend accompanying him on acoustic slide guitar. Looked a lot like Beck. A LOT. In fact, it probably was Beck.
Then it starts to get weird. See at this point, there had been a few drinks around but nothing serious. After the next group sets up, the singer makes a proposition. "Everybody in the room needs to smoke a marijuana joint." And FIVE (yes, 5) suddenly appear out of nowhere and begin making the rounds. There are only 15-20 people in the room. It's hard to avoid but I manage. As the smell and smoke rise, they begin their set. Drums, bass, some kind of mixer... and a whole lot of pedals. Trippy, trancey, interesting. Oh, and some shirky violin with lots of effects. Yeah, they were alright.
Next, a good day turns into a great one. James Rabbit from Santa Cruz, California take the stage. I like their multi-colored matching peacoats and am prepared for some good full band sounds, and of course excited for the prospect of the trumpet I see floating around the room. The second the first song starts I know I've found gold. These guys can PLAY, PLAY, PLAY. The happiest, danciest, funnest music you have ever heard. Every single person in the band was filled with an amazing, happy charisma, and they all seemed to be having the time of their lives. There are certain things you have to experience in your life, and one of them is James Rabbit in a tiny over-crowded room. I don't stop dancing for one minute, and by the end, myself, the band and the other people in the room have converted it into a sauna. Amazing, beautiful, wonderful, fun, James Rabbit. I pay $5 for their CD and speak to their singer. If they ever want a trumpet or trombone player to go on tour with them... anywhere, anytime...
The drummer from James Rabbit plays his ukulele pop set as Antarctica Takes It! Memories from the original YYD tour are brought back fondly. I like his ukulele songs, but his drumming is what blew me away tonight. He's backed up by the girls from Delicate Situation, who play next. They are every single "obscure" stereotype muddled into once performance. Toy instruments, foreign languages, "found" photography, old fashioned projectors and record players, using things that aren't instruments as instruments, performance art, and even a singing saw which doesn't get played much. All of that at once, occasionally complimented by a guitar or organ. They were cute and fun to see and I'm glad I stayed.
See, I could've left 5 minutes into their set and caught the last train back to SF. Of course this would've involved walking 3 miles or so back to campus from the BART station. I decided to stick around and look for a place to stay. The house-owner can't help me ("Who do you know here again?") but I notice the eyes of a random girl leaning against the wall who's overheard my predicament. She can offer me a place. Dana, and her house-mate... Brian, or maybe Ryan. An hour or so later the party is still throbbing along, and it feels like more people are showing up every minute. Even at 2 am. I met Claire-Lynne (I think) who is from South Carolina and in a very authentic folk/americana band. Cool. I'm not particularly bothered by sitting around alone and sober at this party. It's fun to observe and make some connections every now and again. Most everyone is nice.
I never do much talking at all to Dana and her pal besides basics but they are super nice and wonderful. They are from Indianapolis. We get lost on the way back to their place and go straight through downtown Oakland in the middle of the night. I accidentally look at some Hispanics in a car next to us and they start threatening through the windows at a stop light. Sigh. Blurry traffic lights and buildings and finally I'm in a bed, provided by these two wonderful people. Driving in a car to get there was really nice too.
I set my alarm for 9 but wake up at 7. Make the bed, and make my escape; which literally turns out to be an escape. They live in a basement area of a house, and the entrance is in the backyard. The gate to enter and exit the yard is pad-locked, and I don't have the key. Some clever rearranging of trashcans and patio furniture provide the necessary height to escape my chain-linked prison. I hope they don't mind. Finding a bus to the closest BART stop isn't too hard, but much to my surprise, there's yet another obstacle to face. A locked BART station. Really? No trains until 8:20 on Sundays? Wow...
There's a kid from Wisconsin who still seems a little drunk from the night before. We grab some light breakfast at Starbucks, the only place open at this hour on Sunday morning. A delayed train (only ten minutes), a sleepy ride, and finally home. Well not quite yet, for some reason, Sam Katz in all of his wisdom decided to lock the actual door to my room within my apartment from the inside. Six quick knocks rectify that, and here I am.
Unexpected adventures, unknown loves, new acquaintances. Open pathways but also locked doors. Unexpectedly locked doors. Three times. A lot for less than 24 hours. I'm not at Coachella but I still managed to make a good time out of it. The next time I feel like a do-nothing, I can look back at this point. For every hour I spend in front of the computer screen, there is someone somewhere else doing the same thing... who has never been on the adventures I have. I'm content in my solitude but willing to experiment and explore as well.
I've found the balance, learned to deal, and discovered that life is good at San Francisco State. For now.
I'm going to talk about the events of Saturday, April 18th.
I believe it began somewhat innocently with the usual morning routine of hygiene, breakfast, and medication. Next I finished making the mix CD for Molly's birthday party, which I am supposed to attend at Golden Gate Park at 2pm. It is entitled "Birthdays, Happiness, Sunshine, and Love (Not Necessarily in Order)" and involves hand-made art in a re-usable origami CD case. I think this is a pretty good gift from one college friend to another?
Anyways, I hopped on the bus at 1:15ish to head up to the park by 2. Molly told me she was going to be late herself and I had to be in Berkeley by 4, so I actually didn't end up going to the park at all. I gave the CD to some mutual friends on the bus to deliver to Molly. Hope she likes it, guess I'll know tomorrow. Traffic was pretty heavy and the 28 to 71 all the way to Embarcadero took a good deal of time. The wait for BART wasn't too bad and it looked like I was going to arrive at Downtown Berkeley at about 3:30. Perfect time to walk over to Rasputin for the Silversun Pickups instore at 4. Ava had called me earlier and reminded me about this. I decided I would very much like to go since I heard them during the Coachella webcast the night prior while waiting for Paul McCartney. I really like the song Lazy Eye from Guitar Hero/Rock Band, and the music video for it is good as well. Also, cute girl bass player.
Anyways, this would've worked out fine, but for the FIGHT on BART. At the West Oakland station (hm), two upstanding African-American males had some sort of disagreement about something or other and were promptly (3ish minutes) removed from the train. For some reason though the train had to stay in the station in wait for about 10 more minutes even after the men were removed and detained by the BART police. Weird. Still enough time to make it to Rasputin right at 4... but getting there on time doesn't work for a band that just played Coachella the night before. As I begin to slither my way through the crowd gathered in the street around the door I run into Johann from that one house show in Berkeley, and also his band-mate. They were called.. Dorian? maybe. I don't remember. He works at Blondie's pizza. Ava shows up and we have fun taunting the security guards and riling up the crowd to attempt some civil disobedience and force our way into the store. People from the inside take pictures of us and we all give them the middle finger. The security guards don't like this and close and lock the doors, making it so we can barely hear the Silversuns, who have started playing by now. There's lots of room left in the store, the guards are just douche bags. But that's life. Resistance turns to begging turns to calm serenity. The crowd sings along to the muffled sounds of "Lazy Eye" floating through the crack in the door. It was beautiful actually.
Moving on, I'm alone in Berkeley and it's Cal Day! I attempt to use the program gifted to me by Ava to find my way to an activity but it turns out they're all over by now. I begin strolling the campus, wading through the remnants of what appears to have been a crazy and exciting day. I vaguely toy with the idea of trying to find someone from the music department to ask about Cal Band (do you have trombones or baritones or both?) but it's no dice and I'm just left to wander. Wander, wander, wander in the beautiful sun. There's nothing wrong with being alone right then, because I'm in a place which I love, and feel loved just being in. The most concrete goal in my life at this point is to attend that school in a year or two. Hopefully it works out. After an attempted wedding crashing, a mistaken stroll into a girls restroom, and a brief viewing of a "hip hop" music convention, dinner is provided by a Chipotle gift card. I guess my one complaint about that town is that they put so little cheese in the Quesadilla's. They sound bring over some of the guys from Market Street SF to stuff their dillers. Anyways.
Thrift and record perusing stimulates the mind until it's time to take the south-bound bus to Oakland. Did you know that AC transit costs $1.75 and there's no free transfer? SF Muni wins for sure. But then again that's probably why they're in a huge budget deficit and might be increasing fare as high as $2+. Oh well, it's good while it lasts.
I arrive at the house right around eight, alone. You see, what had happened was... this was supposed to be a show held at a venue type of place. At the last minute it got moved to a house so I figured I would just go anyways. It turned out to be sort of a housewarming/birthday party.. where everyone seemed to know each other except for me! The first couple of hours were awkward, awkward, awkward. Random short conversations here and there explaining my situation. Everyone was nice though, and probably would've talked more if I had made the effort. Sometimes you just don't feel like barging into people's little groups though. The bands start playing. First is a fellow strumming simple chords on an Epiphone SG look-a-like who's guitar is way too loud and voice is way too lilting. He seemed nice though. Next we're treated to a guy with a REALLY cool vintage looking Stratocaster. Well, some kind of modern re-issue or re-make of one anyways. He played complicated finger-picking things, but with a really grungey tone and sometimes in non-standard tunings. He had a friend accompanying him on acoustic slide guitar. Looked a lot like Beck. A LOT. In fact, it probably was Beck.
Then it starts to get weird. See at this point, there had been a few drinks around but nothing serious. After the next group sets up, the singer makes a proposition. "Everybody in the room needs to smoke a marijuana joint." And FIVE (yes, 5) suddenly appear out of nowhere and begin making the rounds. There are only 15-20 people in the room. It's hard to avoid but I manage. As the smell and smoke rise, they begin their set. Drums, bass, some kind of mixer... and a whole lot of pedals. Trippy, trancey, interesting. Oh, and some shirky violin with lots of effects. Yeah, they were alright.
Next, a good day turns into a great one. James Rabbit from Santa Cruz, California take the stage. I like their multi-colored matching peacoats and am prepared for some good full band sounds, and of course excited for the prospect of the trumpet I see floating around the room. The second the first song starts I know I've found gold. These guys can PLAY, PLAY, PLAY. The happiest, danciest, funnest music you have ever heard. Every single person in the band was filled with an amazing, happy charisma, and they all seemed to be having the time of their lives. There are certain things you have to experience in your life, and one of them is James Rabbit in a tiny over-crowded room. I don't stop dancing for one minute, and by the end, myself, the band and the other people in the room have converted it into a sauna. Amazing, beautiful, wonderful, fun, James Rabbit. I pay $5 for their CD and speak to their singer. If they ever want a trumpet or trombone player to go on tour with them... anywhere, anytime...
The drummer from James Rabbit plays his ukulele pop set as Antarctica Takes It! Memories from the original YYD tour are brought back fondly. I like his ukulele songs, but his drumming is what blew me away tonight. He's backed up by the girls from Delicate Situation, who play next. They are every single "obscure" stereotype muddled into once performance. Toy instruments, foreign languages, "found" photography, old fashioned projectors and record players, using things that aren't instruments as instruments, performance art, and even a singing saw which doesn't get played much. All of that at once, occasionally complimented by a guitar or organ. They were cute and fun to see and I'm glad I stayed.
See, I could've left 5 minutes into their set and caught the last train back to SF. Of course this would've involved walking 3 miles or so back to campus from the BART station. I decided to stick around and look for a place to stay. The house-owner can't help me ("Who do you know here again?") but I notice the eyes of a random girl leaning against the wall who's overheard my predicament. She can offer me a place. Dana, and her house-mate... Brian, or maybe Ryan. An hour or so later the party is still throbbing along, and it feels like more people are showing up every minute. Even at 2 am. I met Claire-Lynne (I think) who is from South Carolina and in a very authentic folk/americana band. Cool. I'm not particularly bothered by sitting around alone and sober at this party. It's fun to observe and make some connections every now and again. Most everyone is nice.
I never do much talking at all to Dana and her pal besides basics but they are super nice and wonderful. They are from Indianapolis. We get lost on the way back to their place and go straight through downtown Oakland in the middle of the night. I accidentally look at some Hispanics in a car next to us and they start threatening through the windows at a stop light. Sigh. Blurry traffic lights and buildings and finally I'm in a bed, provided by these two wonderful people. Driving in a car to get there was really nice too.
I set my alarm for 9 but wake up at 7. Make the bed, and make my escape; which literally turns out to be an escape. They live in a basement area of a house, and the entrance is in the backyard. The gate to enter and exit the yard is pad-locked, and I don't have the key. Some clever rearranging of trashcans and patio furniture provide the necessary height to escape my chain-linked prison. I hope they don't mind. Finding a bus to the closest BART stop isn't too hard, but much to my surprise, there's yet another obstacle to face. A locked BART station. Really? No trains until 8:20 on Sundays? Wow...
There's a kid from Wisconsin who still seems a little drunk from the night before. We grab some light breakfast at Starbucks, the only place open at this hour on Sunday morning. A delayed train (only ten minutes), a sleepy ride, and finally home. Well not quite yet, for some reason, Sam Katz in all of his wisdom decided to lock the actual door to my room within my apartment from the inside. Six quick knocks rectify that, and here I am.
Unexpected adventures, unknown loves, new acquaintances. Open pathways but also locked doors. Unexpectedly locked doors. Three times. A lot for less than 24 hours. I'm not at Coachella but I still managed to make a good time out of it. The next time I feel like a do-nothing, I can look back at this point. For every hour I spend in front of the computer screen, there is someone somewhere else doing the same thing... who has never been on the adventures I have. I'm content in my solitude but willing to experiment and explore as well.
I've found the balance, learned to deal, and discovered that life is good at San Francisco State. For now.