To make clear what I was talking about in my last post, I joined a band two weeks ago and we played the KISS FM Halloween Party last night in the parking lot behind Nice Rack on Console Dr.
Formerly Galaxy Billiards, in the IH10/Wurzbach area.
It was kinda cold--the fingers didn't respond to half-hearted commands but for the most part my playing was good enough. I only got lost maybe three times and that's not too bad considering how many new songs I had to learn on short notice, with only ONE rehearsal!!
My thanks to Buz for the loan of his super awesome bass amp rig. Despite being in storage for years, everything worked to perfection.
Seven months ago I was at my lowest weight in decades, but things change.
It's a delicate balancing act to get your instrument low enough to look cool while also hiding a fat belly. I failed on both counts.
That's Becky (Bex) on vocals, Jaime Flores on drums, and David McCall on guitar.
We all go way back to my days running sound for The Hitmen, which is how KISS FM mistakenly billed us on radio ads for the show--yet one more humiliating aspect of the last week I'm trying hard to forget.
George and Martha Washington danced to one of our original songs. It was surreal looking out and seeing this, so I'm glad Sylvia got some pics of it.
The tune is rather brutal for the most part, but during the verses my bassline is a gentle rolling melody that combines a kind of Stone Temple Pilots take on Motown with an almost classical music sensibility. When I talked to them after our sets they told me how that particular section of music grabbed their attention as a perfect background for their period dancing. They were awesome.
It was one of those sychronistic things I'll never forget, especially after mentioning the Bicentennial in my last post.
Because I've been so damned busy with the Televators, my Halloween preparations have had to wait until the last minute. Sylvia spotted this decent one-eyed styrofoam skull today and got it for half-off. I added the (real) serrated knife and started on the gore, but the fake blood I have pretty much blows goats. After adding a few coats I realized that the crap I bought needs something fibrous to coagulate upon, so one quarter of a ball of cotton spread around in thin bits saved the day.
It's really gross, even up close:
I had just enough ink left in an old Sharpie™ to black out the missing eye.
Buz's Van parked in our driveway means I probably won't use the "Suddenly backing-up truck with taillights and beeper" gag I invented last year. It was a huge success, causing many kids and parents to jump for their lives while screaming and possibly peeing a little. Oh well...
At least the weather is cooperating.
With daytime temps in the upper '70s I hopefully won't sweat too much going in and out of the house a hundred times setting-up our show for the trick-or-treaters.
Rest assured, some things never change: If you ring OUR doorbell, you had better say "Trick Or Treat!" like you mean it and be wearing a costume worthy of our good candy.
All of the lame treat-grubbing wannabes and sullen teens get a packet of TacoBell™ sauce in their bag. (Sounds the same when it hits the bottom of their bag, yet tastes a bit different...)
There is an implied contract that governs these things--it's out of my hands.