what i did on my permanent vacation
"when time elapsed and the curfew was enforced, they took away all transportation, so we murdered the guards, stole the horses from the yards, and went to the permanent vacation." - thee acid ranch
abstract:
last week was a flurry of furious recreation activity, lots of happy music and much reflection on the aging and stretching of social dynamics related to my insecurity amongst old friends and their superior academic achievements and personal evolutions. came away with few answers, a few more fears and frustrations, and soft conclusions that where i have failed conclusively as a human and a friend i have had small victories as an artist, the scientist/journalist bit... and after these days of reflection on my worth as person, friend, and artist, i had a moment of chaotic enjoining with old new friends together making a musical moment- valuable data in my ongoing calculations.
concrete:
traveled with ariel to knoxville on wednesday to meet up with peter on a rainy street in the old city- we wandered around talking until our shoes were squishy, then went back to the pilot light to await james and the circulatory system... after running out for a supply of southern comfort, we got back just in time to catch the opening band, the mito band from knoxville, who played slow casio-heavy pretty songs about girls and such- they were very self-deprecating but i loved 'em. next the circulatory system slowly assembled onstage, only to announce that first they would perform songs by the instruments (the cellist's band) and then pipes you see pipes you don't (the keyboardist's band)- the first being drony sad spooky songs and the next upbeat pop. after a few songs, the circulatory system started playing, for real this time. it was my old elephant 6 dreams come true at last, crazy rambling pop songs with clarinet and pounding drums from both sides of the stage. i stood stiffly swaying in my old man way smiling and clapping, while james stood behind me and complained the music was putting him to sleep for an hour straight before finally giving up and going home. the system played a few more songs, their last one being the only one i knew, and with little applause or care from the crowd they just got to work taking apart the stage.. i went up and said hi to will (cullen) hart, tried not to be the goofy fanboy i know i am, but was shocked speechless by how friendly and animated he was- he was asking me questions faster than i could hear them and i got kind of frazzled, gave him a copy of my cd, shook his hand, and took our leave to go visit allison and marc on the other side of town.
the next day, thursday, sam called me and informed me we were hitting open mike night at the hideaway again, this time with bj, providing the full jesus on vinyl experience. we ran back and forth to kingsport collecting people and equipment, assembled at the club, listened to the first few bands, and after much confusion we got together and took the stage. did some drunken ranting, did the few JoV songs we could all remember, i messed up "Soul Suckin Jerk" for the second time in a row, BJ was an awesome terror on the guitar, the bar loved us from what i gathered with shouts in my ear and claps on the back, and then we were out of there, i delivered sam and holly back to their rooms and went home to sleep a happy sound sleep for the first night in weeks.
sappy recap:
i am getting older, my bones are getting stiffer, and i feel more at home in my body now, like the shitty apartment you hate but have such good memories of. i'm learning how to say things, and maybe i might just learn to talk after all.
i'm a dimestore artist, the kind this new culture has vomited up en masse, and i feel no more or less special than that. but what little one owes to their life i am starting to feel like i'm making it, up one hill and down another, nevermind that it's uphill both ways.
abstract:
last week was a flurry of furious recreation activity, lots of happy music and much reflection on the aging and stretching of social dynamics related to my insecurity amongst old friends and their superior academic achievements and personal evolutions. came away with few answers, a few more fears and frustrations, and soft conclusions that where i have failed conclusively as a human and a friend i have had small victories as an artist, the scientist/journalist bit... and after these days of reflection on my worth as person, friend, and artist, i had a moment of chaotic enjoining with old new friends together making a musical moment- valuable data in my ongoing calculations.
concrete:
traveled with ariel to knoxville on wednesday to meet up with peter on a rainy street in the old city- we wandered around talking until our shoes were squishy, then went back to the pilot light to await james and the circulatory system... after running out for a supply of southern comfort, we got back just in time to catch the opening band, the mito band from knoxville, who played slow casio-heavy pretty songs about girls and such- they were very self-deprecating but i loved 'em. next the circulatory system slowly assembled onstage, only to announce that first they would perform songs by the instruments (the cellist's band) and then pipes you see pipes you don't (the keyboardist's band)- the first being drony sad spooky songs and the next upbeat pop. after a few songs, the circulatory system started playing, for real this time. it was my old elephant 6 dreams come true at last, crazy rambling pop songs with clarinet and pounding drums from both sides of the stage. i stood stiffly swaying in my old man way smiling and clapping, while james stood behind me and complained the music was putting him to sleep for an hour straight before finally giving up and going home. the system played a few more songs, their last one being the only one i knew, and with little applause or care from the crowd they just got to work taking apart the stage.. i went up and said hi to will (cullen) hart, tried not to be the goofy fanboy i know i am, but was shocked speechless by how friendly and animated he was- he was asking me questions faster than i could hear them and i got kind of frazzled, gave him a copy of my cd, shook his hand, and took our leave to go visit allison and marc on the other side of town.
the next day, thursday, sam called me and informed me we were hitting open mike night at the hideaway again, this time with bj, providing the full jesus on vinyl experience. we ran back and forth to kingsport collecting people and equipment, assembled at the club, listened to the first few bands, and after much confusion we got together and took the stage. did some drunken ranting, did the few JoV songs we could all remember, i messed up "Soul Suckin Jerk" for the second time in a row, BJ was an awesome terror on the guitar, the bar loved us from what i gathered with shouts in my ear and claps on the back, and then we were out of there, i delivered sam and holly back to their rooms and went home to sleep a happy sound sleep for the first night in weeks.
sappy recap:
i am getting older, my bones are getting stiffer, and i feel more at home in my body now, like the shitty apartment you hate but have such good memories of. i'm learning how to say things, and maybe i might just learn to talk after all.
i'm a dimestore artist, the kind this new culture has vomited up en masse, and i feel no more or less special than that. but what little one owes to their life i am starting to feel like i'm making it, up one hill and down another, nevermind that it's uphill both ways.