Hope all my readers have a nice holiday this week.
I'll be on the road, so check back next week to see for yourself where I've been.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Sunday, November 20, 2011
SA Rock and/or Rolls Marathon
Wow--the new blogger interface doesn't work worth a crap with our more advanced browsers. Bet it shines out like a shaft of gold with Internut Exploder.
Please excuse the wonkiness and crowded writing. Apparently all the Blogger lessons I've learned are "out" and it's going to take me some time to figure out how to make this supposedly easy interface work properly.
Sylvia did the SA Rock And Roll Marathon for the fourth straight year last Sunday, and of course I'm proud of her.
After treating the first two like advanced classes in shootting crowds and sports and then missing 2010's, I decided to concentrate on my job re: bringing fresh clothes and a ride home.
Still managed to take some pics.
Two days prior, all the runners we know met for a carb-loading party.
The biggest hit was this cake:
Waiting for your runner after the finish line is torture. A million sweaty people wandering about and breathing hard (me included). A dude puked right in front of me, but I got off lucky with that. Another runner died not too far away at the same time. Some people want to blame the organizers but hell, you're running in South Texas which can hit 100F on any day of the year. It was a humid 80F at the time, which isn't all that bad. It's a shame that he died, but the odds of it happening during a marathon are 1 in 50,000 so it's not exactly rare and the organizers do the best they can.
Imagine my surprise seeing these guys playing the main stage. I was their soundman for many years, yet never got a call for this gig.
Screw 'em. Would have turned them down anyway, so no harm done.
After the lost child announcements, they re-started Metallica's Enter Sandman, and a metal couple of marathoners (sp?) had enough gas left in the tank to mosh around. Nice.
It's ironic that Vince Neil's drunk bloated ass was headlining this healthy and fit event.
I would have loved to be in his hotel hallway an hour prior, since most guys like him have zero direct experience in the concept of 11AM.
Never saw Motley Crue live unfortunately, but I dig a bunch of their songs. Mick Mars is a great guitarist, and Tommy Lee kicks ass despite his retardation and compulsion to suck whoever's ass is considered "cool" at any given time. Nikki Sixx is a cromulent bassist and slightly above-average heavy rock songwriter.
And then there's Vince...
His autobiography is a fun and wicked read, though.
That's Dana Strum on bass, and the other guys from Slaughter in Vince's band, BTW.
Here's Sylvia's medal:
They get better every year. I like how they used the bell tower from Mission Espada.
If you ever need one of these fancy theme cakes like you might see on TV, contact me and we'll hook you up with the designer/baker. She's just starting her business and does great work. Deliciousness!
Waiting for your runner after the finish line is torture. A million sweaty people wandering about and breathing hard (me included). A dude puked right in front of me, but I got off lucky with that. Another runner died not too far away at the same time. Some people want to blame the organizers but hell, you're running in South Texas which can hit 100F on any day of the year. It was a humid 80F at the time, which isn't all that bad. It's a shame that he died, but the odds of it happening during a marathon are 1 in 50,000 so it's not exactly rare and the organizers do the best they can.
Imagine my surprise seeing these guys playing the main stage. I was their soundman for many years, yet never got a call for this gig.
Screw 'em. Would have turned them down anyway, so no harm done.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Veteran's Day 2011
I'm very proud of my father's Distinguished Flying Cross and his Air Medal (awarded 5 times) but I can think of none more meaningful than the Purple Heart.
Skill and daring are wonderful things, but sacrifice is the essence of military service.
Wednesday, November 09, 2011
Just Checking In
Hmmm...what's new?
After the show, I took off the strings and gave my 4-string bass a good cleaning.
Rosewood fretboards like some lemon oil every year or so--otherwise they get too dry and might crack.
Under the strings around the pickups there's usually a LOT of what looks like dust, but is mostly skin cells and (if you're playing it hard enough) pulverized pick.
Not going to clean the other bass until I get new strings for it. Taking off 8 strings and putting them back on is a royal pain.
Halloween went well enough.
The kids started coming before dark, so the early-birds missed the fire and smoke and lights.
We only had 45 tricksters, which is a tie for the lowest since I've been keeping records.
Only 1 teenager got TacoBell sauce, and two little ones managed to fall down on our porch.
I had some photos, but accidentally deleted them from my CF card, thinking they were already on the PC. No great loss.
It rained just enough on Monday for the roads to be as slick as goose poop.
Some guy in his 20's driving a nice new-ish Dodge Charger didn't look and pulled-out 30 feet in front of me, then stopped.
I hit the brakes and started sliding, and he put it in reverse and spun his wheels to no effect.
Time slowed way down until the impact with his front fender, which wasn't enough to move his car more than a couple inches.
We cleared the street (something everyone should do--the cops aren't going to be reconstructing anything unless there's a fatality, so get the hell out of everyone's way!) and surveyed the "damage".
He was all "That dent was already there, and this scratch is no big deal".
I took that as a good sign and said (in my jolliest voice): "Let's look at mine!"
Then: "I got nothing. Wanna call it good, and be on our way?"
With that we shook hands and took off, which is NICE.
Some people get too wrapped up in procedures to look at the big picture.
The police probably had 250+ minor accidents to deal with that day, which would mean at least a 45 minute wait, and the "damage" was below any possible deductible, so what's the point?
Live and learn--he's sure to look both ways from now on, and I'll continue to be a perfect driver who's only accidents are someone else's fault. Or something like that.
My neck DOES kinda hurt a little...
Ever try to sign a little girl out of school when the relevant paperwork has been misplaced? Not so easy in this day and age. Adventures in babysitting. The whole time we waited, the kid was begging for my phone so she could play Angry Birds, then they finally tracked-down mommy in Las Vegas. Verbal permission isn't really kosher, but apparently I was so calm and patient and understanding (compared to A-hole parents?) that a correct judgment call was made in my favor.
Here's my little nugget Jada 6 years ago:
They grow up so fast, or so I've heard.
My new band has a show coming up in December so I'll be busy learning more songs for that, plus we're recording a Christmas Carol spoof I first wrote about 15 years ago. I'll post a link when it's done.
After the show, I took off the strings and gave my 4-string bass a good cleaning.
Rosewood fretboards like some lemon oil every year or so--otherwise they get too dry and might crack.
Under the strings around the pickups there's usually a LOT of what looks like dust, but is mostly skin cells and (if you're playing it hard enough) pulverized pick.
Not going to clean the other bass until I get new strings for it. Taking off 8 strings and putting them back on is a royal pain. Halloween went well enough.
The kids started coming before dark, so the early-birds missed the fire and smoke and lights.
We only had 45 tricksters, which is a tie for the lowest since I've been keeping records.
Only 1 teenager got TacoBell sauce, and two little ones managed to fall down on our porch.
I had some photos, but accidentally deleted them from my CF card, thinking they were already on the PC. No great loss.
It rained just enough on Monday for the roads to be as slick as goose poop.
Some guy in his 20's driving a nice new-ish Dodge Charger didn't look and pulled-out 30 feet in front of me, then stopped.
I hit the brakes and started sliding, and he put it in reverse and spun his wheels to no effect.
Time slowed way down until the impact with his front fender, which wasn't enough to move his car more than a couple inches.
We cleared the street (something everyone should do--the cops aren't going to be reconstructing anything unless there's a fatality, so get the hell out of everyone's way!) and surveyed the "damage".
He was all "That dent was already there, and this scratch is no big deal".
I took that as a good sign and said (in my jolliest voice): "Let's look at mine!"
Then: "I got nothing. Wanna call it good, and be on our way?"
With that we shook hands and took off, which is NICE.
Some people get too wrapped up in procedures to look at the big picture.
The police probably had 250+ minor accidents to deal with that day, which would mean at least a 45 minute wait, and the "damage" was below any possible deductible, so what's the point?
Live and learn--he's sure to look both ways from now on, and I'll continue to be a perfect driver who's only accidents are someone else's fault. Or something like that.
My neck DOES kinda hurt a little...
Ever try to sign a little girl out of school when the relevant paperwork has been misplaced? Not so easy in this day and age. Adventures in babysitting. The whole time we waited, the kid was begging for my phone so she could play Angry Birds, then they finally tracked-down mommy in Las Vegas. Verbal permission isn't really kosher, but apparently I was so calm and patient and understanding (compared to A-hole parents?) that a correct judgment call was made in my favor.
Here's my little nugget Jada 6 years ago:
They grow up so fast, or so I've heard.My new band has a show coming up in December so I'll be busy learning more songs for that, plus we're recording a Christmas Carol spoof I first wrote about 15 years ago. I'll post a link when it's done.
Monday, October 31, 2011
The Televators
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.
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.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Practice Makes Perfect
It's a true enough saying, but there are at least two qualifiers.
You can only attain the level of perfection allowed by your innate skill and talent.
And you need TIME.
Practice takes time, which is often in short supply.
I can only take so many hours a day with headphones clamped to my skull, pounding out heavy rock with twice as many basses as normal in the mix.
Thankfully, the modern world makes learning songs much easier than it was when I started playing back before the Bicentennial.
I'm in front of my PC switching sources from CDs, mp3s, YouTube, and the band's website. A compact mixer and a small tube preamp for my basses take up less space than my old practice amp.
Still, I'm wiped-out and just want tonight's show to be over so I can have some beers and try to forget all the mistakes I'm going to make in front of a big crowd.
I'm scared, and that's a feeling I always used to avoid by practicing enough to really know the material.
But there's just no time...
You can only attain the level of perfection allowed by your innate skill and talent.
And you need TIME.
Practice takes time, which is often in short supply.
I can only take so many hours a day with headphones clamped to my skull, pounding out heavy rock with twice as many basses as normal in the mix. Thankfully, the modern world makes learning songs much easier than it was when I started playing back before the Bicentennial.
I'm in front of my PC switching sources from CDs, mp3s, YouTube, and the band's website. A compact mixer and a small tube preamp for my basses take up less space than my old practice amp.
Still, I'm wiped-out and just want tonight's show to be over so I can have some beers and try to forget all the mistakes I'm going to make in front of a big crowd.
I'm scared, and that's a feeling I always used to avoid by practicing enough to really know the material.
But there's just no time...
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