I love the Christmas lights in my room. I'm definitely taking them with me to the house.
Between Camera Obscura and Courtney Andrews, I'm really surprised that I don't cry more often.
I've done the most work in the last week that I've done this entire semester. As of this week, I finished writing:
-2 Quintets
-1 Quartet
-2 Solo Instrumental Pieces
I'm really jazzed for the Quar- and Quin- tets. There's really funny. One of the Quintets is titled "Fury" and even though it doesn't sound that angry, it makes my chest vibrate the right way, so I'm into it. The other one is called, "I-V: The Progress Suite", and that may be the best formal composition I've ever done, I'm way too in love with it. It's also the longest thing I've actually sat down and written out the music for (approx. 4'). I feel good.
Blah blah blah.
Razzel Dazzel Rose
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Monday, May 5, 2008
Boredom? No Longer.
I'm way bored. Bored enough to make a blog post.
Since Ryan Adams took down his blog, I've been more bored than usual. Somehow the stuff that he wrote on there was simultaneously stupider than any piece of music he'd ever done and the most validating aspect of his being.
We (Young Mothers) tried out all of our songs today as a trio, and it worked pretty well. I was using Mike from Breabrick's amp, so I couldn't get it to sound how my guitar usually sounds, and Andrew and I didn't use any effects (i.e. distortion, delay, so I think it'll sound a lot different (better) when we get those things into the mix. The only shitty thing is that I'm leaving the country the 12th of this month and won't be back until the 23rd, which is the day before our gig at Modified, so I have to rely on one of the most unreliable people I know to get ready for this show without me being around. Surprisingly, I'm not that worried at all, which makes me think that there's hope for me yet.
Akron Family's alright in my book. There's a whole slew of bands that I was introduced to by my ex that I hated after we broke up (Sufjan, Akron, Sondre Lerche, Rufus Wainwright) that I've started to either warm up to or just flat out love. It's kinda sad that it took me over a year to get to this point, but at least I got there.
Every day that I don't smoke, it gets harder not to smoke. I get bored and I think, "what do I usually do when I'm bored?" I stand outside of my apartment and smoke. It's really no wonder that I used to smoke a pack, sometimes more, a day.
I consider myself a reasonably personable individual, but in actuality I really only have 2-4 friends that I can call when I'm plan-less at any given time. This can be kind of a burden on said friendships, because I'm plan-less relatively often. This is not to say that I don't have more than 4 friends at anytime, but a lot of my friends from school and threw music are 21 and up and are usually at the bars. That's really the only reason I want a fake. That and being able to buy wine whenever I'd like.
Often times, when I'm not dating someone or I don't have a legitimate crush on anyone, I'll think of all the girls that I know that I could call if I just felt like being in the company of girls. The girls that I'm referring to are not my friends, but not my girlfriend, which makes them awkward to be around sometimes. Nonetheless, it's occasionally necessary to call these girls and spend sometime with them. I have 3 that I currently could call in such a situation, here's the breakdown:
1: Way too dirty and immature to even want to call, will run into randomly anyways
2: Too clingly, but generally nice
3: Purported to be annoying and bossy by others, though usually enjoyable in small doses, seems to want to spend time with me(? strange ?)
I had to call one of these today, I called 3. She seemed receptive. Sidenote: I haven't referred to these girls as numbers because that's all that they are to me, at least not most of them. They have names, and out of respect for them, I haven't used them (their names, that is). I do, however, call them girls, because I don't really think that they are truly women yet. Is it slightly perverse or (worse) pretentious for me to draw this distinction? Probably, particularly because, if I had to label myself as a man or a boy, I'd most likely still go with boy (I can't change my oil on my own yet, though I'm scheduled to learn this summer. I do try and do the right thing most times (i.e. tell moderately good friends of mine when their ex's kiss me when their drunk, usually don't cheap unless the test I'm taking is ridiculously difficult). I'm pretty sure that knowing how to change your oil is the bigger of the two qualifiers.)
My dad went on antidepressants, he's been so much more tolerable. I'm not one to over medicate and just throw pills at people (or at least endorse doctors who do), but he really needed them. I think that he needed to be tilted a little upwards, mood wise, before he could get the rest of his life in check, and Prozac has done said tilting. This comes at a serendipitous time in my familial life, as my dad, my sister, and I are set to leave for Spain a week from tomorrow. A week and a half of my father sans medication would...give me much to write (songs) about.
I was thinking about ending this entry there, but I'm not done with my 4 shots of espresso over ice yet. I'll quit when the drink's gone. Oh my god, I'll be freaking out, twitching, stomach yelling to high hell, uncontrollable diarrhea, etc. I'm pumped!
Last year, I went threw a phase where I grew my sideburns out long and puffed them out all the time, like Beethoven. God that was stupid. Maybe I was feeling like a child in an adults clothes and wanted to show how, physically at least, I was an adult. Silly adolescent.
When I was younger, I was afraid of being a little kid. It sicken me when I acted like a child, or at least not like an adult. I'm getting over that.
Ok, this is over, regardless of the few sips I have left.
-Zach
Since Ryan Adams took down his blog, I've been more bored than usual. Somehow the stuff that he wrote on there was simultaneously stupider than any piece of music he'd ever done and the most validating aspect of his being.
We (Young Mothers) tried out all of our songs today as a trio, and it worked pretty well. I was using Mike from Breabrick's amp, so I couldn't get it to sound how my guitar usually sounds, and Andrew and I didn't use any effects (i.e. distortion, delay, so I think it'll sound a lot different (better) when we get those things into the mix. The only shitty thing is that I'm leaving the country the 12th of this month and won't be back until the 23rd, which is the day before our gig at Modified, so I have to rely on one of the most unreliable people I know to get ready for this show without me being around. Surprisingly, I'm not that worried at all, which makes me think that there's hope for me yet.
Akron Family's alright in my book. There's a whole slew of bands that I was introduced to by my ex that I hated after we broke up (Sufjan, Akron, Sondre Lerche, Rufus Wainwright) that I've started to either warm up to or just flat out love. It's kinda sad that it took me over a year to get to this point, but at least I got there.
Every day that I don't smoke, it gets harder not to smoke. I get bored and I think, "what do I usually do when I'm bored?" I stand outside of my apartment and smoke. It's really no wonder that I used to smoke a pack, sometimes more, a day.
I consider myself a reasonably personable individual, but in actuality I really only have 2-4 friends that I can call when I'm plan-less at any given time. This can be kind of a burden on said friendships, because I'm plan-less relatively often. This is not to say that I don't have more than 4 friends at anytime, but a lot of my friends from school and threw music are 21 and up and are usually at the bars. That's really the only reason I want a fake. That and being able to buy wine whenever I'd like.
Often times, when I'm not dating someone or I don't have a legitimate crush on anyone, I'll think of all the girls that I know that I could call if I just felt like being in the company of girls. The girls that I'm referring to are not my friends, but not my girlfriend, which makes them awkward to be around sometimes. Nonetheless, it's occasionally necessary to call these girls and spend sometime with them. I have 3 that I currently could call in such a situation, here's the breakdown:
1: Way too dirty and immature to even want to call, will run into randomly anyways
2: Too clingly, but generally nice
3: Purported to be annoying and bossy by others, though usually enjoyable in small doses, seems to want to spend time with me(? strange ?)
I had to call one of these today, I called 3. She seemed receptive. Sidenote: I haven't referred to these girls as numbers because that's all that they are to me, at least not most of them. They have names, and out of respect for them, I haven't used them (their names, that is). I do, however, call them girls, because I don't really think that they are truly women yet. Is it slightly perverse or (worse) pretentious for me to draw this distinction? Probably, particularly because, if I had to label myself as a man or a boy, I'd most likely still go with boy (I can't change my oil on my own yet, though I'm scheduled to learn this summer. I do try and do the right thing most times (i.e. tell moderately good friends of mine when their ex's kiss me when their drunk, usually don't cheap unless the test I'm taking is ridiculously difficult). I'm pretty sure that knowing how to change your oil is the bigger of the two qualifiers.)
My dad went on antidepressants, he's been so much more tolerable. I'm not one to over medicate and just throw pills at people (or at least endorse doctors who do), but he really needed them. I think that he needed to be tilted a little upwards, mood wise, before he could get the rest of his life in check, and Prozac has done said tilting. This comes at a serendipitous time in my familial life, as my dad, my sister, and I are set to leave for Spain a week from tomorrow. A week and a half of my father sans medication would...give me much to write (songs) about.
I was thinking about ending this entry there, but I'm not done with my 4 shots of espresso over ice yet. I'll quit when the drink's gone. Oh my god, I'll be freaking out, twitching, stomach yelling to high hell, uncontrollable diarrhea, etc. I'm pumped!
Last year, I went threw a phase where I grew my sideburns out long and puffed them out all the time, like Beethoven. God that was stupid. Maybe I was feeling like a child in an adults clothes and wanted to show how, physically at least, I was an adult. Silly adolescent.
When I was younger, I was afraid of being a little kid. It sicken me when I acted like a child, or at least not like an adult. I'm getting over that.
Ok, this is over, regardless of the few sips I have left.
-Zach
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Young Mothers Album 1: The Demos
Yesterday, I finished making demos for the Young Mothers first full length album. It's 11 songs long, and I'm pretty proud of what it seems to be shaping up to be. 6 of those 11 songs have fun band demos, while the others are bare-bones acoustic versions. I tried to upload them into a Muxtape called BeethovensSideburns, but Muxtape really didn't like the files and refused to upload them. Therefor, I've put them on my mediafire page. Here's the skinny, since they are definitely out of order on the mediafire page:
1: Arts and Crafts
2: Your Purple Heart
3: Killing Time
4: Broken Mirrors
5: Go Back To Alaska, Juno (This one will be more airy and less distorted...)
6: The Flower Of My Secret (CMA)(This will have real drums and be more more shoe-gazey)
7: 08/11/07 (This will be full band, as is intended as a duet with a female)
8: Werewolves In Youth (Full band, light hearted rocker and denying responsibility)
9: Lessons Learned (This will be 80s'd out, like Camera Obscura's "Lets Get Out...")
10: Dane Loves This Song (Big, darker rock out track)
11: I Set Your House On Fire (starts quite, vamps up, fades out jamming on main riff)
Jason- Remember how I lost my voice last weekend? I still haven't gotten it back entirely, so a lot of these tracks feature my scratch-voice. Please don't make fun of me.
Here they are:
http://www.mediafire.com/?sharekey=1eab6fd0bfac07207069484bded33bcd4951f37fdb24019d
"Lessons Learned" refused to be lumped in with the other tracks, so here it is in a separate location:
http://www.mediafire.com/?b4mikbl2hed
Let me know what you think, duderbears. Oh, and if doesn't work, fuck it. I'm done.
-Zach
1: Arts and Crafts
2: Your Purple Heart
3: Killing Time
4: Broken Mirrors
5: Go Back To Alaska, Juno (This one will be more airy and less distorted...)
6: The Flower Of My Secret (CMA)(This will have real drums and be more more shoe-gazey)
7: 08/11/07 (This will be full band, as is intended as a duet with a female)
8: Werewolves In Youth (Full band, light hearted rocker and denying responsibility)
9: Lessons Learned (This will be 80s'd out, like Camera Obscura's "Lets Get Out...")
10: Dane Loves This Song (Big, darker rock out track)
11: I Set Your House On Fire (starts quite, vamps up, fades out jamming on main riff)
Jason- Remember how I lost my voice last weekend? I still haven't gotten it back entirely, so a lot of these tracks feature my scratch-voice. Please don't make fun of me.
Here they are:
http://www.mediafire.com/?sharekey=1eab6fd0bfac07207069484bded33bcd4951f37fdb24019d
"Lessons Learned" refused to be lumped in with the other tracks, so here it is in a separate location:
http://www.mediafire.com/?b4mikbl2hed
Let me know what you think, duderbears. Oh, and if doesn't work, fuck it. I'm done.
-Zach
Saturday, May 3, 2008
So, within the last 8-10 months, I've developed a serious (or at least serious to me) issue with anger. I hardly ever full on lash out a people, but the smallest things can trigger an incredible amount of anger. I've never been one for expressing sensations like anger, overt criticism, etc., but my family has always encouraged me to do so, claiming that i's much healthier than keeping it in, blah blah blah...
About 2 months ago, I realized that I had more of those feelings than the average person, and that letting them out could be potentially dangerous for those around me. I've been freaking out ever since. Not just worrying about that, but getting more and more angry. Than I read that book Fury by Rushdie, and even though it's not a great book, it put a name to my problem. For some reason I really dig calling it Fury, it feels right.
I talked to my sister about this issue probably 2 weeks ago. She said that she thought it would be a good idea for me to directly express some of that anger at its source, calmly and while utilizing logic and reasonable restraint, once a day. Thus far, I've had two experiences doing so:
1: Yesterday, there were 2 loud, angry preachers on Campus yelling and screaming about hell. My top 3 list of things that offend me are Racism, Fear Mongering, and Public Preaching. I was so mad when I saw these guys yelling about how everyone was going to hell...I decided to calmly go up to the one that was currently yelling and explain that he was offending me and ask him to stop. I knew this was a pointless effort, as those guys operate outside the boundaries of logic and sense, but for my own benefit, I did it. I said excuse me to get his attention, and he told me, "You're excused". I then taped him on the shoulder and said, "I don't think you understand, I want to talk to you," and he screamed in my face, "Don't touch me, pervert! I'm a married man, you freak!". So at least it became obvious to everyone watching that this guy was a closet homosexual...There was a ledge behind him and would make me about a foot and a half taller than him, so I jumped on it and I yelled, "I recreationaly use drugs! I frequently have premarital sex! On top of that, I go out of my way to be kind to every person that I encounter each day, and I don't think I'm going to hell for that." I didn't expect to anyone that was standing around or walking by to give a shit, and a group of people started to cheer. Then the guy yelled, "You're still going to hell because you're a sinner and a pervert! SINNER!". I then yelled, "Maybe I am, but at least I'll have some friends there. Nonetheless, this is a personal issue, and you shouldn't be yelling about it in public, sir." More cheers. Then I just walked away. It felt alright, not great. But decent.
2: My roommate is an idiot, and I won't say that he's the cause of my anger, because my anger problem isn't external issues but the way that I deal with them, but he's a big influence on the way that I feel on a regular basis. In a bad way. Every 2 weeks or so, he uses his mom's money to buy some stupid musical toy that he doesn't need in the least, and this half of the month, he chose a talk-box to go with his keyboard. He's been anxiously waiting for it to arrive in the mail, and I couldn't give a shit less. Maybe it was because I didn't care about it at all that he made me care about it this morning...8:30 on a Saturday morning, I wake up to the sound of poorly played keyboard threw a stupid effect pedal rarely used in good music. I was furious. I got to sleep at 3:30 am, and needless to say, I didn't appreciate this. I sat up in my bed and didn't move for 5 minutes, considering if I should yell at him or not. In the end, I got up, but on some pants, opened my door, and said, "Tim, I know you're excited about your talk-box, but it's very inconsiderate to be playing it at that volume this early on a weekend morning." Pretty calm and cool, right? He said, "Oh, I didn't realize it was that loud. Hey, the fed-ex guy came at 7:30 this morning, how weird is that!?". I just closed my door and accepted the fact that I wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. He just went right on playing at the same volume. I wanted to yell at him about that, but I wasn't getting back to sleep, and that would pass my quota of one display of overt anger a day...There's always tomorrow, because I'm sure he'll do something completely idiotic then too.
Oh, I wrote a theme song for a cartoon show, and there's a teaser that was thrown together in probably under 5 minutes on the web. Check it out.
http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendID=2940285&blogID=389478996
About 2 months ago, I realized that I had more of those feelings than the average person, and that letting them out could be potentially dangerous for those around me. I've been freaking out ever since. Not just worrying about that, but getting more and more angry. Than I read that book Fury by Rushdie, and even though it's not a great book, it put a name to my problem. For some reason I really dig calling it Fury, it feels right.
I talked to my sister about this issue probably 2 weeks ago. She said that she thought it would be a good idea for me to directly express some of that anger at its source, calmly and while utilizing logic and reasonable restraint, once a day. Thus far, I've had two experiences doing so:
1: Yesterday, there were 2 loud, angry preachers on Campus yelling and screaming about hell. My top 3 list of things that offend me are Racism, Fear Mongering, and Public Preaching. I was so mad when I saw these guys yelling about how everyone was going to hell...I decided to calmly go up to the one that was currently yelling and explain that he was offending me and ask him to stop. I knew this was a pointless effort, as those guys operate outside the boundaries of logic and sense, but for my own benefit, I did it. I said excuse me to get his attention, and he told me, "You're excused". I then taped him on the shoulder and said, "I don't think you understand, I want to talk to you," and he screamed in my face, "Don't touch me, pervert! I'm a married man, you freak!". So at least it became obvious to everyone watching that this guy was a closet homosexual...There was a ledge behind him and would make me about a foot and a half taller than him, so I jumped on it and I yelled, "I recreationaly use drugs! I frequently have premarital sex! On top of that, I go out of my way to be kind to every person that I encounter each day, and I don't think I'm going to hell for that." I didn't expect to anyone that was standing around or walking by to give a shit, and a group of people started to cheer. Then the guy yelled, "You're still going to hell because you're a sinner and a pervert! SINNER!". I then yelled, "Maybe I am, but at least I'll have some friends there. Nonetheless, this is a personal issue, and you shouldn't be yelling about it in public, sir." More cheers. Then I just walked away. It felt alright, not great. But decent.
2: My roommate is an idiot, and I won't say that he's the cause of my anger, because my anger problem isn't external issues but the way that I deal with them, but he's a big influence on the way that I feel on a regular basis. In a bad way. Every 2 weeks or so, he uses his mom's money to buy some stupid musical toy that he doesn't need in the least, and this half of the month, he chose a talk-box to go with his keyboard. He's been anxiously waiting for it to arrive in the mail, and I couldn't give a shit less. Maybe it was because I didn't care about it at all that he made me care about it this morning...8:30 on a Saturday morning, I wake up to the sound of poorly played keyboard threw a stupid effect pedal rarely used in good music. I was furious. I got to sleep at 3:30 am, and needless to say, I didn't appreciate this. I sat up in my bed and didn't move for 5 minutes, considering if I should yell at him or not. In the end, I got up, but on some pants, opened my door, and said, "Tim, I know you're excited about your talk-box, but it's very inconsiderate to be playing it at that volume this early on a weekend morning." Pretty calm and cool, right? He said, "Oh, I didn't realize it was that loud. Hey, the fed-ex guy came at 7:30 this morning, how weird is that!?". I just closed my door and accepted the fact that I wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. He just went right on playing at the same volume. I wanted to yell at him about that, but I wasn't getting back to sleep, and that would pass my quota of one display of overt anger a day...There's always tomorrow, because I'm sure he'll do something completely idiotic then too.
Oh, I wrote a theme song for a cartoon show, and there's a teaser that was thrown together in probably under 5 minutes on the web. Check it out.
http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendID=2940285&blogID=389478996
Thursday, May 1, 2008
I went to a big band concert tonight, and for some reason it spurred a chain of thought in my head that led me to wonder: What would come up if I googled Ben Tevik, the clarinet soloist from the show. Answer: a few little things about his performances, little aside from that. Then I started thinking...What would I find if I googled myself? The answer was very interesting indeed.
Top Five Items (At The Time of Search):
1: Myspace.com/YoungMothersMusic (to be expected)
2: A comment left on a not very close friend's Myspace, made by another not very close friend, in reference Flight of The Conchords and how much I remind her of Jemaine. Once again, to be expected.
3:Someone's Blog?
http://groovystylie.blogspot.com/2007/04/thursday-april-12-2007-epic-cafe-open.html
This is a blog entry, made by someone that I can't identify, though I'm sure that I at least know of this person...Surprisingly decent photo, obviously from a time when I still smoked (which I still really want to do)...Interesting comparison in regards to my music though...Green Day? Really? Regardless, I was pleased as piss to find this strange item.
4: A write up? No.
http://www.aznightbuzz.com/stories/233518.php
This one is a story about the show that Young Mothers was going to play with those bands from China before their visas were denied. Score for being compared to decent Gibbard material and NMH. Oh, and for being mentioned next to a picture of Jackson Browne!
5: Fashion Galor
http://media.wildcat.arizona.edu/media/storage/paper997/news/2007/04/26/Wildlife/Fine-Arts.Fashion.Frenzy-2882866.shtml
I still can't believe that this was published. The fact that the Wildcat stands for the shit that Dumka or however her name is spelled vomits out and into their newspaper perplexes me constantly. Anyway, sweet photo of a sweet shirt and a big smile!
How strange life/the internet is...
Final Remarks: Fuck the tools for inserting links. They suck, and I hate them. Also, I'm growing out my hair like that one musical, and I'm going to have huge sideburns from now on.
-Z
Top Five Items (At The Time of Search):
1: Myspace.com/YoungMothersMusic (to be expected)
2: A comment left on a not very close friend's Myspace, made by another not very close friend, in reference Flight of The Conchords and how much I remind her of Jemaine. Once again, to be expected.
3:Someone's Blog?
http://groovystylie.blogspot.com/2007/04/thursday-april-12-2007-epic-cafe-open.html
This is a blog entry, made by someone that I can't identify, though I'm sure that I at least know of this person...Surprisingly decent photo, obviously from a time when I still smoked (which I still really want to do)...Interesting comparison in regards to my music though...Green Day? Really? Regardless, I was pleased as piss to find this strange item.
4: A write up? No.
http://www.aznightbuzz.com/stories/233518.php
This one is a story about the show that Young Mothers was going to play with those bands from China before their visas were denied. Score for being compared to decent Gibbard material and NMH. Oh, and for being mentioned next to a picture of Jackson Browne!
5: Fashion Galor
http://media.wildcat.arizona.edu/media/storage/paper997/news/2007/04/26/Wildlife/Fine-Arts.Fashion.Frenzy-2882866.shtml
I still can't believe that this was published. The fact that the Wildcat stands for the shit that Dumka or however her name is spelled vomits out and into their newspaper perplexes me constantly. Anyway, sweet photo of a sweet shirt and a big smile!
How strange life/the internet is...
Final Remarks: Fuck the tools for inserting links. They suck, and I hate them. Also, I'm growing out my hair like that one musical, and I'm going to have huge sideburns from now on.
-Z
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Monday, April 21, 2008
My course load is very much lacking this semester. Because of this, I have an enormous amount of free time on my hands, which sounds awesome, but free time is only cool when you have busy times to make you appreciate said free time. So, I have to find ways to fill up my time. I killed time today by:
-Groccery shopping. I'm trying to kick dairy, and it's really fucking hard.
-Looking for a place to live. More on that later.
-Working on the scavenger hunt that I'm essembling.
-Talking to my sister
-Reading "The Plot Against America" by Philip Roth
-Studying the growth of my all natural beard (that's right, I'm not trimming it until it's full grown in. It's less than a week right now, and it's already gross).
-Seeing the Jazz B group perform. There's some seriously good musicians in that group.
-Interneting
The only activity worth going into detail about it "Looking For A Place To Live". I'm currently searching the pages of Craigslist.org for a 1 bed room house to live and create music in, which is much more difficult than it sounds. I found a listing today that looked relatively promising, so I called the number and waited for the woman who listed the house, Penelope, to pick up. She did, and we arranged to meet so that she could show me the house, right after her dog finished getting Accupunture. No shit. I loved it, thought it was hilarious.
I met her outside of the house, and proceeded to explore the tiny guest house she was renting out for a bit more than I was willing to pay. "So, you're a student?", she asked. "Yes, I'm a music student at the U of A". Tell a person that you're a musician, and they want to talk about every local, two-bit musician they're ever known. One person I was looking to rent a house from started bragging to me about all the local bands that he rented to. I wanted to shoot myself. I was very thankful when she didn't press the subject of music.
As Penelope walked me out of the house that I had no intentions of renting, I made several attempts to end the conversation and be on my way. Sly old Penelope chose to slip in a bit of music talk at the very end of our interaction, and I was secetly furious with her for doing so. Out of politness, I heard her out. "What kind of music do you make?". I hate this question. "Pop music, I guess." I hate that answer more. "Oh, my son is good friends with a man who is in a pop band. I forget what they're called...I had open heart surgury about 6 months ago, and I've had some memory loss ever since. Oh yeah, there's plenty of studies on the correlation between memory loss and open heart surgury....Something about the anestysia." This bit of information made me infinitly more sympathetic towards Penelope. I joined her and sat on the short wall outside of the house and waited for her to remember. "Oh yes, I remember now. My son's friend's band is called Alkaline Trio."
I nearly shat my pants. This is not a fact that I'm particularly proud of, but from 7th grade to Junior year of highschool, I was stupidly obsessed with Alkaline Trio. What are the odds that this woman renting out a house in Tucson, Az once lived in Chicago, IL, reered a child who became friends with a member of this band whom I, a completely unrelated indiviual, once idolized? What are those odds?
"Which member of the band?". This was an important question. It could have been one of the first 2 drummer, the most insignificant members of the band. As much as I adored Matt Skiba earlier in my life, as I sat talking to Penolpe, he suddenly seemed like an unqestionably evil person for Penelope's son to be spending so much time with. It could be Dan Andriano, someone I think I still secretly worship for being quieter, crafting the more emotionally sincere songs. Or it could be Derek Grant, the most current drummer, who just kinda seems like a piece of shit. "His name is Daniel Andriano. He's such a nice young man."
We sat and talked about "Daniel", some of his other bands (Me: I really loved Tuesday, his earlier band. Penelope: Oh yes, and what was the other band he was in before that.... Me: Slapstick! Penelope: Yes! They were funny!), Penelope's children, and the potential for her memory to improve over time. For really only functioning as a method of killing time, it was actually really enjoyable to talk to this stranger for 20 minutes of my day.
And now I might kinda be reconsidering the guest house she was for rent...
-Groccery shopping. I'm trying to kick dairy, and it's really fucking hard.
-Looking for a place to live. More on that later.
-Working on the scavenger hunt that I'm essembling.
-Talking to my sister
-Reading "The Plot Against America" by Philip Roth
-Studying the growth of my all natural beard (that's right, I'm not trimming it until it's full grown in. It's less than a week right now, and it's already gross).
-Seeing the Jazz B group perform. There's some seriously good musicians in that group.
-Interneting
The only activity worth going into detail about it "Looking For A Place To Live". I'm currently searching the pages of Craigslist.org for a 1 bed room house to live and create music in, which is much more difficult than it sounds. I found a listing today that looked relatively promising, so I called the number and waited for the woman who listed the house, Penelope, to pick up. She did, and we arranged to meet so that she could show me the house, right after her dog finished getting Accupunture. No shit. I loved it, thought it was hilarious.
I met her outside of the house, and proceeded to explore the tiny guest house she was renting out for a bit more than I was willing to pay. "So, you're a student?", she asked. "Yes, I'm a music student at the U of A". Tell a person that you're a musician, and they want to talk about every local, two-bit musician they're ever known. One person I was looking to rent a house from started bragging to me about all the local bands that he rented to. I wanted to shoot myself. I was very thankful when she didn't press the subject of music.
As Penelope walked me out of the house that I had no intentions of renting, I made several attempts to end the conversation and be on my way. Sly old Penelope chose to slip in a bit of music talk at the very end of our interaction, and I was secetly furious with her for doing so. Out of politness, I heard her out. "What kind of music do you make?". I hate this question. "Pop music, I guess." I hate that answer more. "Oh, my son is good friends with a man who is in a pop band. I forget what they're called...I had open heart surgury about 6 months ago, and I've had some memory loss ever since. Oh yeah, there's plenty of studies on the correlation between memory loss and open heart surgury....Something about the anestysia." This bit of information made me infinitly more sympathetic towards Penelope. I joined her and sat on the short wall outside of the house and waited for her to remember. "Oh yes, I remember now. My son's friend's band is called Alkaline Trio."
I nearly shat my pants. This is not a fact that I'm particularly proud of, but from 7th grade to Junior year of highschool, I was stupidly obsessed with Alkaline Trio. What are the odds that this woman renting out a house in Tucson, Az once lived in Chicago, IL, reered a child who became friends with a member of this band whom I, a completely unrelated indiviual, once idolized? What are those odds?
"Which member of the band?". This was an important question. It could have been one of the first 2 drummer, the most insignificant members of the band. As much as I adored Matt Skiba earlier in my life, as I sat talking to Penolpe, he suddenly seemed like an unqestionably evil person for Penelope's son to be spending so much time with. It could be Dan Andriano, someone I think I still secretly worship for being quieter, crafting the more emotionally sincere songs. Or it could be Derek Grant, the most current drummer, who just kinda seems like a piece of shit. "His name is Daniel Andriano. He's such a nice young man."
We sat and talked about "Daniel", some of his other bands (Me: I really loved Tuesday, his earlier band. Penelope: Oh yes, and what was the other band he was in before that.... Me: Slapstick! Penelope: Yes! They were funny!), Penelope's children, and the potential for her memory to improve over time. For really only functioning as a method of killing time, it was actually really enjoyable to talk to this stranger for 20 minutes of my day.
And now I might kinda be reconsidering the guest house she was for rent...
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Tubmlr doesn't have comment capability, so I'm going to use blogger from now on. But for the record, I like the Tumblr format more...
Hello, by the way, blogger world. I'm slightly ashamed/very happy to join you.
Today I listened to:
-You Forgot It In People, Broken Social Scene
-Go Forth, Les Savy Fav
-Barrel Of Batteries, The War On Drugs
-The Boy With The Arab Strap, Belle & Sebastian
It was nice.
I'm almost done with Fury, and even though it's my least favorite Rushdie, I dug it.
-Zach
Hello, by the way, blogger world. I'm slightly ashamed/very happy to join you.
Today I listened to:
-You Forgot It In People, Broken Social Scene
-Go Forth, Les Savy Fav
-Barrel Of Batteries, The War On Drugs
-The Boy With The Arab Strap, Belle & Sebastian
It was nice.
I'm almost done with Fury, and even though it's my least favorite Rushdie, I dug it.
-Zach
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