today is a day that is meant to be met with boldness, i think. not having slept and having seen so much of yesterdays exertions turn toward failure, one might expect i would take the timid, quiet, insouciant route. but no — and know this, dear reader — there are few tricks left in this old dog. and even if i have to use them all…
that 8am roll call
well, the Brooklyn Supreme Court is equipped with wireless internet. though its not all the bells and whistles — no chatting, no streaming video, no facebook — its still being online. the time now? 9:09 am. its been a rough morning. not nearly enough sleep (preceded by equally sleep-deprived nights on friday and saturday) and the 8:30 appearance time made it damned hard.
(9:30a)
just finished the group orientation. now i must wait for my name to be called/butchered. and head along my (un)merry way. the upside, however, is i’m making 40 bucks if i stay here til 5pm. yeah.
(1:00p)
lunch break. still haven’t been called. i’ve been biding my time between Harry Potter and the coffee vending machine in the “lounge” area. now: out in to the damn fray. but the good news is my federal tax return came today (i think). so… lunch… sandwiches? soups? anguish and loneliness?
lushlife
to be honest, we closed the set with “Song For You” but “LushLife” was the penultimate selection. it was good clean fun, i think. no chicken fingers left, though. so i had to have a sandwhich… with spiced pork and ham. cold cut, my friends. cold cuts. warmed with mustard and a pickle.
i won’t lie: it was delicious.
here in roscoe (ny), while i check my email at the venue (Buffalo Zach’s Cafe) — they got WIFI — i hear and see two gangly white dudes walking down the block. one is really skinny and talking alot. the other, mostly nodding and grunting. the skinny one is telling the story of “choking that nigger” for talking shit at him. i assume by his gait, his accent, and his pronunciation that said “nigger” was actually another — possibly also gangly — white dude. from what i can gather they were skate boarding together in some park, words were exchanged and then beef sparked off that was put to rest by the throttling the most former white gangly dude executed.
this saddens my heart and gladdens my mind. i can not explain if further. i am simply hurt and amused.
the gig with sam went. it is over. and it didn’t explode in our faces. i had strawberries and coffee at his house this afternoon, we checked out some records and went over lushlife. met up with T. and then came here. all is well. i am now: driving home. 3 hours. in by 2, i guess.
i am missing. i am found.
at home on the road
(burgerKing on NY Thruway [that's how they spell it!]. On my way to Sam Morrison’s for rehearsal then on to gig in Monticello.)
i told her, last night, that perhaps my aberrant behavior was due to my being stressed. under-pressure. worried. over-stimulated in a concerning way. with music on top of music to learn, and a throat to keep in order (that we’ve all agreed i don’t ever speak about), and more books to read than one can shakes one’s new glasses at….
all that plus, the mimetiks needing that critical early push from its members and new music from its writer and a closer and closer approximation to waht the Brooklyn Sound will be.
well its getting kind of critical here.
and i’ve been lazy. which is my problem. in order to do unprecedented things one needs to work hard at it. waiting for it to come to me while i’m watching SeaQuest or noodling is difficult. this past week i have reconvened my late-night, passion visits at the rhodes. to no little effect. though i am not necessarily playing better, i do feel better when i’m playing. and i do want to play. i’ve been dreaming (and day-dreaming) about a real pianoforte under my constant supervision and care. the things i might play. the musics i might write.
but a piano is a difficult thing to muster. especially in my second walk-up, cluttery situation. still… maybe it is the only thing i need (other than, say, healthcare).
there is a poem. and i am dreaming of it as well. and i rarely dream. but this week…
… something is slighty different.
is it the stress?
i keep doing these three-parters. but this time i’ve started my roman numerals in lower case which can mean only one thing: that i intend to get past “iii” and and at least up to “ix”. So — i will either be writing ALOT or I will be writing very short, very frequent posts.
yesterday was harsh. today, event-wise, seems slightly better. if there is a nagging pain at the back of my throat i will do everything in my power to ignore it for the time being. if there is but one thing i have learned its that if its going to get worse, it will do. and then i will have to go in and take care of it. or get it taken care of. a third time? which would probably be indicative of a larger problem than simple tonsilitis. i did, however, just say i was going to ignore this subject and — until the pain becomes too great or too insignificant — i will do.
the drive from Brooklyn to Tivoli took a mere four hours. (leaving the city on friday afternoon, even at 2, is a mistake i shall not make in the future. early up and early out on friday, damn you.)
i am gearing up for “the rehearsal that may not ever happen” in which Johnny, Barnaby and I get together (without Dan — who is attending a summerscape show at the Fisher Center/Gehry Building) and work on the music for tomorrow’s festivities. in which i, also, get a chance to look, finally, at these five hymns i will be singing tomorrow. snot, right? snot!
so tonight: rehearse. then eat, maybe. then, drink. and, if i can bear it, smoke. i absolutely need to smoke. and smoke now, while i can, before it all comes crashing down [?]. I’ve nearly finished my very, very pathetic occupation of watching all the episodes of SeaQuest i can find on TV Links. and i’m going to have to move on to something else? but what?
Sunday through Tuesday was spent in Birmingham, Alabama with the FTM crew. I am surprised, but also not, that i did not mention it here. i have been slacking. being sick makes one not one to document it. but i am usually meticulous after this effect. i will work to mend this in the coming days. as we get on in parts of this little series. Alabam’ was lovely. over-cast and/or dark for most of the time that i was there. but the sun came out when we were performing and it was nice and muggy and very southern like. and except for the apparitions of deep-rooted racism (none of which did i encounter… only fear encountering), it was an altogether extremely pleasant excursion out of the city. though i love brooklyn intensely, its always nice to go SOMEWHERE and then come home. I am occupied at the moment with trying to sift through pages and pages of music to find wedding-appropriate jazz standards.
music? been listening to Amy Winehouse and one Pharrell tune (just dim the light?) pretty non-stop. other than that, just got a CD of William Duckworth’s SOUTHERN HARMONY. and i’m enjoying the hell out of that as i type. the new jam. and just wonderful at extreme volume.
i have no coherent thoughts, presently. just a lot of rando (as my sister likes to say) mental debris. flotsam (poor sam…) and detritus. eventually, by dint of my profound loquaciousness (as regards the writing of this journal. so maybe better describe probably as ‘verbose’), that milling miscellenia may soon become cogent effluvia on the page here. what am i doing? just making words up and talking shit.
you know. passing the time.
feeling better. definitely not out of the woods yet. though the infection seems to have subsided, my tonsils are still the size of baby feet. this is likely due to allergies. my utterly undiagnoseable allergies… except for those two blissful years in college. when i then had other problems like a) having several of my teeth ripped out and b) learning how to play the piano.
all i’m asking for now? is the end of this being sick-ness. there are so many things to do. but if i MUST be sick – then: i must still work. i can hold back these things no longer.
i am presently headed for tivoli, NY once again. going up for Johnny’s Sister’s Wedding. for a rehearsal tonight and the actual event tomorrow afternoon. i am going to be singing a series of hymns that i have never heard of before. so i will be learning them tonight. i guess?
other than that: a buttload of standards and special wedding pics are an order, no? yeah. so toward that end, i now go. staying healthy…. after some fashion.
akie
(where i got the paradise idea from, i’m not sure. but “trouble in hell [as usual]” didn’t seem like a great title. actually – come to think of it – maybe it is.)
i have been sick again, i just realized. i had about a week’s vacation from illness and now: right back into the pot. same thing, in fact. went back to l’hopital and wouldn’t you know it: they gave me the same prescription, just twice the dose for twice as long. so for 10 days i’ll be sleeping in what are basically 5 hour blocks. usually less as i have to eat something before i take the pill or risk getting… vomitous.
there are developments and there are setbacks. i have been all over the map (emotionally? artistically?) since… whenever. a while ago. right now my teeth hurt so much i can think about anything really. just pain.
akie
well a couple of weeks back (before i felt constantly ill) i played a nice wednesday night gig at the Corner Stage with the Greeney Bros. (Lewis on bass, and Andrew on drums). Last tune of the night was a chart Lewis pulled from his stacked. I’d never played the song before but I, like every young ameri-CAN, knew the tune from commercials and PSAs and the like. and maybe a couple of car commercials, come to think of it.
anyway, Lewis put the chart for Irving Berlin’s “What A Wonderful World” in front of me. and we played it down. while i like the super jazz-clubby vibe of the thing, and the impromptu nature of the cut… what i love most about this video is probably the dancers, my back-up singers, and the semi-audible sound of a dude playing funk licks on an un-powered electric guitar. its really, really, Middletown.
woudo,
akie
