Nunchucks

Watching this silly movie with N the other week reminded me of the stereotypes I used to have of street gangs when I was a little kid. Back then, gun violence didn't get the media play it does now (or maybe I was more shielded from it) and guns seemed like something you'd be unlikely to encounter, especially in rural-ish CB. The weapons I most readily associated with your average street-fighting gang were nunchucks. You'd hear stories at school about somebody's older brother knowing some guy who had these quasi-legal things, and used them to be the king of his block. I can't remember if there's a nunchuck scene in the above movie or not, but you'd quite often see them on g-rated movies or family TV shows with plots involving gang warfare. If you ever saw a guy bust these things out, a) he means business and b) you're probably dead.

It seems ridiculous to think of nunchucks being intimidating in this day and age. I'm sure a guy with proper training could use them to badly fuck people up, but guns are so omnipresent now I can't imagine nunchucks ever occupying a significant place in popular culture again. They're something I think of as a quirky relic of the 80s.

We've Got A Gym Membership And We're Gonna Use It

Oh sure, the thought had crossed my mind before. But after a shameless display of holiday eating, I felt the time was right. You know it's bad when relatives you seldom see tell you right away how much weight you've put on.

The facilities are available (cheaply) through my work. All I really need is a treadmill. Someone once told me that running is the key to keeping one's weight down, so that's what I'm going with.

I've had two sessions: yesterday and today. Now let me say, I know nothing about working out. I'd never exercised just for its own sake until now. It took me fifteen minutes just to figure out how to turn the machine on.

...so I've got it going, but how fast is fast enough? How long is long enough? Since I find difficult tasks easier when done in a routine, I made up the following: 2 minute brisk walk, 22 minute jog, 1 minute faster jog, 2 minute cool-down. I followed this pattern today, with slightly increased speeds all around. During this session I sometimes found myself thinking "I'm not gonna be able to do this"... but I did. I think I went about 2.2 miles... or maybe just kilometres, I'm not sure. I was pretty wiped by the end, but felt considerably less guilty taking the bus home instead of walking.

My impression is that it won't be hard to convince myself to do this regularly. It's not that much time out of my day and it's easy to do after work. I'm going to try not to weigh myself for a month, then see if any of this had an effect. I'd like to do it at least 5 times a week. That seems reasonable.

The title of this post was a reference to this band:



I own their first EP... a one sided 12" single with etchings of the band members on the back! Got it for a song years ago at...

Träume

Last night I dreamed I owned this enormous laptop and was using it on the deck of a large ferry after dark. The boat was moving around quite a bit and the laptop flew into the ocean. "Fuck it," I thought, "I'm tired anyway." The next day (still in the dream), I wake up and think "Holy shit, that thing was expensive! I'd better start combing the high seas." So I go out in a little dorey looking for the thing and eventually find it floating on the waves. It's ruined, and has something scrawled on the cover. Although I can't read what it says, I somehow know that it was written to taunt me for not being more careful with the computer. If you can't protect your things, you deserve to have them taken away, something to that effect.

In other news: I just lost my shitty, 90s cell phone.

Steppin' Out

Last night I took N out for dinner to celebrate one year as a couple. We went to (arguably) the nicest restaurant in the city. I figured I had better look decent - formal wear and such. I had to have the pants of my $10 Frenchie's suit let out, but no big deal there. Picked up some dress shoes from the V.V... I own a "dress shirt" but seeing it in the context of the suit made me realize this was not going to cut it. I ended up borrowing one from Dyn-O-Mite. Next, the tie: I own two ties, both black. One is a clip-on, the other was tied for me by someone else (and left that way) many, many years ago. As you can see, I don't dress up a whole lot.

Well, it's a good thing N looked smashing. I was the only guy in the crowded restaurant wearing anything approximating a suit at all. It was "cazh" all around. Collared shirts and swearers, that sort of thing. I think the people next to me were wondering who let the monkey out of the zoo. I guess I went a little overboard and made myself seem low-bred in the process.

"Shucks, Cletus, I'm gonna put on muh fancy suit! Hyuk hyuk!".

Suddenly, I didn't feel like an adult anymore. I felt like a teenager on prom night, attempting to look how he thinks a well-dressed gentleman should, when he really has no idea what's going on.

This feeling, while depressing at first, took a turn for the better as the night went on. At least I'm not one of the squares. I have joie-de-vivre. I live like a young person. I don't care about my station in society. These are desirable qualities, in my opinion.

I think I will go out and get a new suit, though.

This One'll Kill Ya

So N's young music students did a xmas concert this morning. The music school has very limited parking, so I decided to park in the near-empty lot of the nudie bar next door while I ran in some documents she needed. Ten minutes later, I returned to move to a more permanent spot. I was met by a man who gleefully informed me that I had arrived just in time, because he had called a fleet of tow trucks to remove the 4 or 5 cars of music parents that had spilled over into the near-empty nudie bar lot. The time was 1130am.

First of all, how important is it to ensure ample nudie parking at this time of day? And why the barely-contained joy at the idea of Grandma's sedan being hauled off to the impound? All she wanted was to hear little Sally play Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer.

But I suppose if you go by the book, that parking spot needs to be held for customers checking out the Saturday morning stripper action.

Merry Christmas, children.

Squeegie Ban

The city has made it illegal to squeegie cars for money. The people who do this obviously need the cash. I don't use their service and I don't like feeling forced or obligated to. That said, I think this is a generally harmless thing to do and shouldn't be banned by the government. This is micromanagement of society.

People say, "why don't they get a real job?", but I can think of many jobs which, to some, must seem worse than being self-employed on the street.

People say, "they're just trying to scam money for booze and drugs". I don't care if someone is panning to pay rent, buy food, a can of Faxe, crack, whatever. If you're skeptical about the motives of someone panning, just don't give them money.

I think the crux of this is that the gap between rich and poor has grown to the point where poverty is way more in-your-face than it once was. I think a lot of people find that unsettling (good!), but instead of calling for solutions to help marginalized people, they would rather just have the poor removed from their sight. Like that old anti-littering ad on Maine TV:

Man and young son are out fishing in a little boat. Man has thick New England accent.

Boy (piece of trash in hand): Dad, where's the garbage can?

Man: No gahbage can on a boat, boy. Throw it ovahboahd, the current'll take it away.

Boy: But Dad, where does it go?

Man: .....away.

****************************

Needed some levity to offset the political talk.

First Show

Counting the new one with N and Slappa, I've now been in ten bands where I considered myself a full-time member. There have also been a number of fill-ins, one-offs and side projects, but ten bands that I paid serious attention to. Is it pretentious to talk about this? Maybe, but no more that writing in a blog at all. I'm 35, so ten serious bands is not a stretch.

The latest one is close to playing live. We've jammed about ten times and it's been going really well. We used to write a song a practice but now that we sort of have a "set", there's less time to mess around after doing the older material. I've got to say, this it going to be one of the most ready-for-our-first-show bands I've ever been in. Which is odd considering we all treat it as a lark. This made me think back to other first shows as a comparison.

0) Grindcore Band
(Oct 1991)

Grindcore Band was not one of the ten, but I include them here because this was my first time playing for people who had paid to see a band I was in. I played bass. I can't remember if I was replacing someone or if they just didn't have a bassist before. The other guys in the band were clearly "metal", except perhaps for d_r0¢k, who was at least ambiguously so. I had long bangs that I threw back under a baseball hat and wore paid shirts and chucks with rolled up jeans. So, not metal. The other guys were really cool though, and we got along well.

I joined GB in the summer, so we had a few months to prepare. I guess I was fairly ready for that show. We didn't have a lot of songs, but they were at least as "technical" as BB's, if not moreso. We covered a Sabbath tune, which was probably my favorite song we did. I rocked the Dee Dee Ramone moves. I remember the set being sloppy, but we were tuned pretty low so... y'know.

The coolest thing about that show was a comment d_r0¢k received from a listener afterward:

"You guys were awesome. I dunno about that bass player though. He's just not metal."

1) Really Old Band
(Aug 1992)

This was the main band I was in between 1990 and 1993. The first two years were spent exclusively in the basement. We had no idea how to go about getting a show. I was super cynical about scene people ("ooo, they think they're sooo coool"), and more than a little concerned with the possibility of being literally beaten off the stage (not out of the question in those days).

You'd think playing the same bunch of three-chord songs for two years we'd be well-honed for our live debut... but you'd be wrong! We hardly jammed because we had nowhere to do so, and I refused to jam at my house while my parents were around (I was still in a hate-my-parents phase that most people are out of by that age).

There were lineup issues. I REALLY wanted to play guitar but filling the other positions was way harder, so I started out on bass. Then, our drummer quit because he felt he was holding us back (from what? humiliation?). We were lucky enough to find this older (mid 20s) guy who would drum for us, but that didn't work out. He couldn't learn the songs because he felt they all sounded the same. His favourite band was Bad Religion, so I knew his excuse was a crock.

By this time we had a decent set, but not enough people to play it. I had only ever seen d_r0¢k front in bands but I knew he could play bass, so we added him and I switched to drums. I was singing the whole time, which really sucked. But at least we had a lineup. A couple of open mics happened as a 3-piece but I wanted no part of being a singing drummer. An eager young friend of our guitarist expressed an interest in singing, so I handed him my lyrics like a hot potato.

"And by the way, we're recording next week".

Somehow, we'd secured a show the SUB in a spot that is now a cafeteria. Some good bands were on the bill and all ages punk shows were very rare then. We might as well have something to sell. Mike was really in a tough spot with learning all the lyrics so quickly and it sometimes shows on our demo... the aptly named "We Suck" cassette. I take my hat off to him though, he processed it all somehow. But we were not ready to play live.

I remember walking around by myself for like an hour before playing. Would the older punks kill me? Would we be horrible? Amazingly, I have our entire set on a tape in the storage room (I won't be posting excerpts). The guitar was out of tune for almost the whole show. It was fun though. I played so hard. There had to be 200 people there, and some even danced for us. But we really did sound like absolute ass.

2) Old Band
(Aug 1993)

I quit Really Old Band and started Old Band with some other friends in 1993. I thought R.O.B.'s songs were all really stupid. I did rejoin for one show around 93 or 94 when this legendary 90s punk band came to town and we opened. By the time I quit R.O.B. a new all-ages club had opened up and I was extremely eager to land us a gig there. People: extreme eagerness + new band = recipe for disaster. We scraped together just barely enough minute-long, shitty punk rock songs to justify being on a bill opening for a better local band. Man, we were horrible! Thankfully, we went out more gracefully than we went in. (*footage is from Old Band's third-last show... look at yours truly crowd surfing at the end! Yes, I was that skinny once...)

3) Pop Band #1
(Dec 1994)

This was the first band I was in where I actually wanted to sound poppy. I listened to that sort of music, so why not. I had a lot of ideas, and the 90s were the right time for Ramones-idolatry-rock (which we were). This band ended up writing a ton, but we just couldn't wait for that first gig. We did a 4-song set using time donated by our friends' band. We played decently, but what a shitty way to jones onto a show! Not a shining moment for that band, and not something I'd try again.

4) Pop Band #2
(1996)

This one was easy. They already had a set, all I did was step in on guitar. I knew every song from listening to their demo tape a lot. Pretty seamless, but those were ideal conditions for me. You don't often get that.

5) Surf Band
(1996)

A familiar story: short on material, short on patience. At the time, we felt there was an intrinsic connection between instrumental surf-rock and punk. So, naturally, we got ourselves booked with punk bands. This didn't work out so well. The audience didn't like our twangy guitars or our ironic "undercover spy" image. They kept yelling stuff like "play some Misfits". I can't even remember if we played well. It was like Fear on that late-night comedy show, but without the warm reception. Nobody ever got into SB. I think we may have been the most hated band in the city at the time. It felt that way.

6) Pop Band #3
(1997)

I guess we did alright, I don't remember any huge disasters. I remember that band's songs pretty well, but not the shows. We were about equally tight/loose at every show, owning to I and K being veritable metronomes of punk rock.

7) Youth Crew Band
(summer 2000)

This was another situation where I stepped into a band with a pre-existing set. I have to admit, I joined the band because I was friends with the members, as opposed to really getting behind the music. I had recently moved back from out West and I really missed the social aspects of playing music. I recall being pretty sloppy the first time I played with them, but I was once told by the singer that playing well was less important than doing a lot of crazy jumping onstage. One torn ACL later...

8) GS
(Sept 2004)

We really raced to get a set together at first because we wanted to debut at the going-away party of a mutual friend. Getting banned from jamming at Ube's place took the wind out of our sails a little, so we did a pre-RF$ Monday night open mic instead. I recall the track with the bass synth/drum machine didn't work well. Also, it seems to me we sounded like a band that could barely play their instruments. We managed to do this without deliberately playing badly. So in a sense, this was exactly what I was hoping for out of that band at first: deliberate, yet earnest, shittiness. We ended up growing from that into something more serious, something I'm very proud of to this day.

9) BB
(May 2005)

This is the only band I've been in whose debut happened outside of H_x: it happened an hour up the 102, in lil' T.O., where BB's precursor band had achieved success (note the awesome comments on that clip, BTW). This band also took a while to get it going. I'd been jamming with Eb and WE since January of 2004. Tobe (re-)joined in November of that year for an improv jam on the radio, and we went from there. One thing I'll say about BB is that we never do anything fast (except perhaps, playing itself). The T.O. show went reasonably well, but we could not duplicate that success at our local debut, where we sort of stunk. I think it took a long time for that band to convince people that we had actual songs, and were not just blasting randomly onstage. In any case, a long wait before a first show builds a certain tension that can cause a band to make bad decisions.

10) No Need For A Fake Name Since We Have None Yet
(~Feb 2008)

We'll be rock solid by that time. We jam weekly; our songs are simple; our drummer is a machine (literally).

NOTHING CAN POSSIBLY GO WRONG!!!!!!!!!

What self-indulgent crap this blog can be!!

Too Punk For The Indie Rockers, Too Indie Rock For The Punks

Now that's a title.

Suspension Of Disbelief

It's important to know how to do this. Don't you hate when you're watching a movie with someone and they're always saying things like "there's no way that could have happened". Or you go see a band you like and it's "what do you see in this terrible band"? Or you're watching low-budget semi-pro wrestling and it's "this sucks, it's so fake". I'm not talking about specific incidents, but more the general attitude that makes people say this sort of thing. If something's meant to be enjoyed and people around you are doing so, just let it be. Don't take away people's fun with your griping and negativity. At least learn to laugh at awfulness.

Taffy Von Foolishness: 1991-2007

My family's cat passed away this morning.

I was 18 when we got him... he was just old enough to leave his mother. Taf was a typical kitten, always getting into mischief and such. My mom had this grandiose idea early on that we were going to keep him downstairs in the name of preserving the good furniture. There's no door at my parents' house separating upstairs and downstairs, so we had to come up with a plan. There was this 4-foot high sheet of corrigated plastic I had used for a science project in high school, which we hoped could be fashioned into some sort of barrier. But Taf was an athletic little dude and was soon able to leap right over it.

As it turned out, Taffy was never a threat to the furniture. He wouldn't so much as sit on any of the house's couches or chairs, let alone scratch them. He was actually a shockingly well-behaved cat.

Taffy did endure the occasional hardship. Like the time he got bladder stones and could not pee. We had no idea anything was wrong until he started to get sick... the vet told us we got him there just in time.

Then, there was the infamous "hanging" incident. Taf was a house cat, but my parents often let him go outside on a leash. He would sun himself on the deck, or inspect the plant life at the bottom of the stairs and around the backyard. We never tied him up in the front... he really liked to sniff this yew tree next to the front step, so I bought my parents a little one to plant in the back so that he could study it more closely. Anyway, so one day he's tied up on the back deck while my dad is mowing the lawn. Next thing my dad knows, Taffy is hanging by his neck over the side of the deck, swinging back and forth like a pendulum. He apparently wasn't choking or gasping for air... just swinging there, looking pissed off. Well, that's two lives.

I've got all sorts of good memories of the guy, I could go on and on. I think the bladder infection and his obesity (he weighed 20 lbs at one point) coupled with lack of exercise caught up with him. His body wore out sooner than it perhaps should have. By the end he weighed no more than 5 or 6 lbs.

N and I went to visit him last night. The writing was on the wall. My parents always treated him like gold, but despite their best efforts he now appeared emaciated and despondent. He had his face buried in the baseboard heater and didn't look up when we started to pet and brush him (unusual for him). Normally, hairbrush bristles on his face would drive him to a loud purr, but last night... nothing. I picked him up and held him for a minute or so, and he seemed barely alive. He could no longer get up or down the stairs. Not even making it to his litter box was a sure thing anymore. He'd neglected his hygiene quite a bit over the past couple months, but now he seemed unwilling or unable to even clean the wet cat food from around his mouth. N washed his face off with a damp cloth.

We comforted him in every way we could think of before we left. Mom and Don took him to the vet this morning. Ironically, the same doctor who administered his first shot as a kitten provided the one that euthanized him.

Needless to say, I've been quite bummed out about this. I didn't get too choked up though, except for one time: I was with my brothers last night and was trying to lighten up the bleak mood. I said, "Well, maybe tomorrow this time he'll be rubbing up against Hendrix". Slick, dude! {sarcasm}{/sarcasm} Actually, that's pretty much how I consoled myself today... imagining Taffy happily playing with my favorite deceased musicians. The image of him sitting peacefully in Joey Ramone's lap kept coming back to me. That made me feel a little better.

Goodbye, Little Buddy. You're in a better place now, but you'll be missed.

Road Trip!

Once or twice a year a certain group of friends and I travel out of town to watch (so... how about) that local sports team. Although the game we take in is the reason for the trip, it invariably takes a back seat to the many hours of hilarious conversation in and out of the car. Like, my-face-hurts hilarious. It's a special sort of mood unique to this activity.

We usually plan these trips months in advance. They tend happen during cold weather and this was no exception. We plowed though whiteout conditions at one point. The road was clogged with safer-than-they-need-to-be drivers. One car actually tried to block me from getting in the passing lane. I waited patiently and safely passed him anyway. This self-appointed guardian of public highway safety was apparently pissed and laid on the horn. To that guy I say this: I know my limitations in bad road conditions. You do not. I suggest you call the police and let them handle the matter, rather than taking the law into your own hands. Because of the slow driving conditions, we ended up being quite pressed for time, but made the game with a few minutes to spare.

Next up, the bonus round: a reunion show in another town by a favorite semi-local band of yesteryear. Great times, indeed. I wish N could have been there. Mt_n shows have such a different feel compared to H_x. People there seem a lot less concerned about looking or sounding trendy. It's quite refreshing. It seems like even the more artsy-leaning bands that come out of there rock in a more down-to-earth way. I really like that. On the other hand, maybe this show only drew people who like good ole' fashioned, badass, playfully offensive punk rocknroll... with the more timid, politically correct, progressive thinkers of the city staying home. The band we saw would never have drawn that sized crowd here; I think people in this town fancy themselves too highbrow for this type of show. It's a cultural difference I've noticed for a long time. I think it's kind of a bummer. Somewhere it the middle of the two extremes is where I feel most comfortable: rocking out with a sense of creative adventure.

There were at least 300 people at the show, maybe even 400. I went up front and rocked out for the band's entire set. Like, literally rocked out. It was weird... I always used to dance hard when this band played back in the day, and had not done so in close to a decade. I didn't feel old though, because many other mid-30s people who grew up with BL13 were doing the same thing. It was kind of awesome. Like the bee-girls in that video.

When I saw the crowd rush to the stage I remember thinking "Fuck it. No earplugs tonight". BIG MISTAKE. My ears can't continue to take that sort of punishment. I never practice or watch live bands without earplugs now. Last night I got too caught up in (literally) busting a move like it was 1993. Unfortunately, it's 2007, I've played in amplified bands for nearly 20 years and have a mild case of tinnitus. In my right ear today: not so mild. Kind of scary, actually. Fuck. I'm gonna be deaf someday, and it sucks. I sort of panic a little when I think about it.

Anyway, thoughts of hearing impairment were not on my mind after the show. We hit a big stop at about 3am and rolled into town around six. All agreed that this was an awesome trip. It seems like a new crop of recurring inside jokes emerges every time we do this. That's what it's all about: the road trip permagrins.

The day before we left, I sat down with a couple of cold beverages and prepared a playlist for the drive. I wanted about 9 hours of music. Track order and flow is absolutely essential; the audience's tastes are also paramount. Amazingly, this mix covered all but the final five minutes of the trip.

*makes pretend gun with finger, blows pretend smoke from barrel*

I've taken the time to list the bands we heard, in order (anti-internet-search policies be damned). I could tell you where we were on the road for each.

Motorhead
Mika Miko
Turbonegro
Tranzmitors
Gun Club
Replacements
Zombina & the Skeletones
Dwarves
Brutal Knights
Regulations
Redd Kross
Angry Samoans
Gang Of Four
Delta 5
Scissor Girls
LiLiPUT
Essential Logic
Jale
Undertones
Partisans
Sham 69
PiL
Slits
Parliament
Os Mutantes
Circulatory System
Beatles
Ofo The Black Company
Supercharger
1910 Fruitgum Company
Johnny Cash
Loretta Lynn
Dixie Cups
Lee Hazelwood
Link Wray
Little Richard
Antoine et les Problèmes
Shirley Ellis
Seeds
Pink Fairies
Captain Beefheart
Bubble Puppy
Blue Cheer
Pink Floyd
Simply Saucer
Hawkwind
Fig. 4
Guided By Voices
Tobin Sprout
Robert Pollard
Apples In Stereo
Pointed Sticks
We've Got A Fuzzbox And We're Gonna Use It
X
My Bloody Valentine
Strokes
Bob Mould
Velvet Underground
Jonathan Richman
Stinky Toys
Rondelles
Troupe diCoupe
Supergrass
Fela Kuti
Venom
Dead Kennedys
Corrosion of Conformity
Verbal Abuse
Poison Idea
SSD
Jerry'd Kids
Gang Green
F.U.s
DYS
Negative Approach
Bad Brains
Black Flag
Misfits
CI
Career Suicide
Formaldehyde Junkies
Edith Nylon
Oberkampf
Bérurier Noir
Métal Urbain
No-Talents
Shearing Pinx
Mutators
Mars
Teenage Jesus & the Jerks
James Chance & the Contortions
Afrika Bambaataa
LL Cool J
Yellow Magic Orchestra
Kraftwerk
Peaches
Grandmaster Flash
Suicide
Sun Ra
Neu!
Ash Ra Tempel
Slayer
Voivod
Pissed Jeans
Killdozer
Flipper
Devo
Nervous Gender
Gary Flanagan
Der Plan
Judge Dread
Tom Jones
Martha & the Muffins
The Cure
Lambrettas
Papas Fritas
Olivia Tremor Control
Kevin Shields
Dog Day
Lemonheads
Talulah Gosh
Avengers
Germs
Descendents
The Kids
Da Slyme
Crime
Flux Of Pink Indians
D.I.R.T.
Crass
Fugazi
Embrace
Barrington Levy
Can
Guess Who
Deep Purple
Black Sabbath
Judas Priest
Live Fast Die
Jay Reatard
Breeders
Go Gos
Camera Obscura
Cub
Helen Love
Gories
CPC Gangbangs
Demon's Claws
Catholic Boys
Hospitals
Homostupids
Stooges
Black Lips
Buzzcocks
David Bowie
Isaac Hayes