I'm sick. Have been since Friday. I don't know what it is, but I blame my little germ-ridden, virus-spreading offspring. Despite my best (most neurotic) efforts of washing my hands and ingesting all sorts of anti-sickness herbs, vitamins, and minerals, I knew I was doomed from the start. Resistance is futile, but highly entertaining, I'm sure.
For a moment on Saturday, I thought my extra rest and herbal concoctions had gotten me off easy. However, by late Sunday I knew I had just experienced a brief intermission before the main event struck me. I spent the better part of both today and yesterday in bed. And when I wasn't in bed, I was shuffling around the house in my sick clothes. Miserable. Bored.
I hate being sick because I drive myself crazy thinking of all the stuff I could/should be doing if I weren't sick. And then as I start to feel better, I feel even more irritated with myself when I look back and see all the time I wasted just laying around feeling sick! That just leads me to look back even further and see all the time I've wasted in general. Not when I was sick, just when I was slacking or putting way too much effort into something that turned out to be fruitless or unimportant.
I've been saying I'm going to release a new CD now for approximately FOUR YEARS. I've been recording songs for said "new CD" for even longer. Some are finished, more are in various stages of being done, and then others are new(er) and haven't even been recorded yet. No money. No time. No motivation. I'm sick.
Hey, I'm still writing though. Like these few lines that just came to me the other night...
Sometimes you gotta think things through
To discover the hidden truth
The triumph in a tragedy
What is lost in a victory
It's not always black and white
To be admired doesn't mean you're right
Sometimes the greater good
Doesn't feel as noble as it should
Even a wise man plays the fool
Sometimes you gotta think things through
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Friday, June 5, 2009
Sometimes People Die Slowly
Sometimes people die slowly. Stroke. Multiple Sclerosis. Cancer. Addiction. It doesn't really matter what the cause is, it's the fact that you look at that person and think to yourself "It's all downhill from here." You know there's no light at the end of the tunnel, no sun coming up on the horizon. Just a whole lot of rough times and heartache ahead.
That's what I see when I look at my mom. 80 years old and afflicted with dementia - Alzheimer's is the fancy buzz-word these days, but basically what it boils down to is seeing a person you love and admire morph into an annoying, pitiful stranger that you feel obligated to help and yet, at the same time, you dread being around. The real hard part for me to swallow is knowing that my mom would FREAK OUT if she (in her right mind) could see what this disease has made of her in that last few years. She took care of people like that. Worked in nursing homes and home health care jobs for years. She would come home crying to me about how these people were treated and how sad it was to see them in such a state. And then she would always make me promise NEVER to let her end up like that...
Still, there she is... in a nursing home. Confused, depressed, and just wanting to go back home and be on her own. She has her own little altered story of how things used to be that includes none of the agonizing months my wife and I battled with her to get help and, ultimately, took away her options and decided things for her.
I know in the grand scheme of things that I did the right thing, but I know in my heart that I should've done better. Simply because she did better for me. In every circumstance, in every way. I never saw this coming and I was ill-prepared for it when it confronted me. I'm glad the way things worked out as far as where she's at now -considering the circumstances- but I can't help thinking that -maybe- if I'd have done MORE with my life and been MORE successful, I'd have the money to spend on her to make sure her last years were spent better than they are being spent now.
Sure, we visit her and bring her over every chance we have, but she doesn't remember that. She only remembers the loneliness and the confusion of why she is where she is and why her son won't let her go home. It kills me. Slowly. And while I still cling to remnants of my mom and treasure them, I realize that she is fading. Slowly. And in her place is this annoying and confused old woman whose only purpose in life is her next cigarette and, if you have the time, she'll fill you in on her evil son who took away her freedom and never comes to see her. That just kills me. Slowly.
That's what I see when I look at my mom. 80 years old and afflicted with dementia - Alzheimer's is the fancy buzz-word these days, but basically what it boils down to is seeing a person you love and admire morph into an annoying, pitiful stranger that you feel obligated to help and yet, at the same time, you dread being around. The real hard part for me to swallow is knowing that my mom would FREAK OUT if she (in her right mind) could see what this disease has made of her in that last few years. She took care of people like that. Worked in nursing homes and home health care jobs for years. She would come home crying to me about how these people were treated and how sad it was to see them in such a state. And then she would always make me promise NEVER to let her end up like that...
Still, there she is... in a nursing home. Confused, depressed, and just wanting to go back home and be on her own. She has her own little altered story of how things used to be that includes none of the agonizing months my wife and I battled with her to get help and, ultimately, took away her options and decided things for her.
I know in the grand scheme of things that I did the right thing, but I know in my heart that I should've done better. Simply because she did better for me. In every circumstance, in every way. I never saw this coming and I was ill-prepared for it when it confronted me. I'm glad the way things worked out as far as where she's at now -considering the circumstances- but I can't help thinking that -maybe- if I'd have done MORE with my life and been MORE successful, I'd have the money to spend on her to make sure her last years were spent better than they are being spent now.
Sure, we visit her and bring her over every chance we have, but she doesn't remember that. She only remembers the loneliness and the confusion of why she is where she is and why her son won't let her go home. It kills me. Slowly. And while I still cling to remnants of my mom and treasure them, I realize that she is fading. Slowly. And in her place is this annoying and confused old woman whose only purpose in life is her next cigarette and, if you have the time, she'll fill you in on her evil son who took away her freedom and never comes to see her. That just kills me. Slowly.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Me & Todd @ Luke's Grille
If you're a singer/songwriter or a local musician and you're in it for the money and fame, you're in the wrong line of work. Music, sometimes, is a labor of love; a struggle to share what you have created and, at the same time, entertain. For the longest time, playing live gigs was a real struggle for me. These days, with only a few gigs here and there to worry about, I'm actually enjoying the experience -the actual experience of playing and hearing myself play. I'm getting into the songs and the music. I think I'm finally at a level of playing/performing where I can hold my own against the true pros. Todd Kreuzburg is one such "true pro" -the guy's a machine when it comes to playing the guitar. Whether it's Pop, Rock, Blues, or Flamenco, the guy just kills it every time. He's also a genius when it comes to recording, arranging, and producing other people's music... like mine. Todd has done all my recorded material. I don't think I'd be doing what I'm doing (musically) if it wasn't for the opportunity that Todd gave me of hearing my music brought to life in full-color production.And so it was my honor and privilege to have Todd as my guitar wingman for tonight's gig at Luke's Grille. We didn't have any pre-gig practices, I didn't send him over a bunch of chord charts or arrangements. No. I just stood there and called out covers and originals and Todd nodded and played along. I enjoy playing gigs with Todd because he's such a master and he always takes my nervous edge off because I know he's got my back. But sometimes I just get lost and mesmerized with his guitar playing and I end up flubbing the chords on my guitar because I'm too busy admiring the cool lead or fill that Todd just came up with out of the blue. It's funny and annoying (more so to Todd, I'm sure).
I guess the main thing that I'm starting to grasp now is you can have a great performance (like tonight) without having a great (or large) audience. I think I'm at the point now where I can actually observe an aspect of the gig as an audience member. So even though there was nobody there most of the night (except for a few good friends who kept us company early on), I really enjoy the performance and, as always, I learned a few gems of information from Todd in the process. Music is a labor of love. But I'll take love over fortune and fame any day.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Roedown Review
It's over. It was successful. There were no major incidents or catastrophes. I was able to get up for work the next morning. That's pretty much all that matters and I could leave it at that. But that would be no fun for you, the reader. So... here's all the juicy details on the year's greatest rural horse race/music fest.
Here's a little background... ROEDOWN - it happens every year in April -usually the first Sunday. This year was the 35th running. It's Steeple Chase Racing - a little different than the standard around-the-track racing. And the biggest question every year for Roedown is "What's the weather forecast?" Aside from that, it's not only a horse race, but it's a huge conglomeration of tailgates -the social event that ushers in spring.
Me and/or my band have played at Roedown for 4 out of the past 5 years. This year, my wife and I did an MS fundraiser in conjunction with the live music. There were two other bands involved too: Sweet Leda and Pressing Strings. Wendy Marxen, the Marlborough Hunt Club's Marketing Director (and super-cool chick) was heading up the "Music Festival" angle of Roedown and was counting on a local radio station to do most of the grunt and leg work when it came to getting a stage, sponsors, etc. Unfortunately, this local radio station fell FAR short of Wendy's expectations and she called me to "help coordinate" things. My wife and I turned it into a huge fund-raising tailgate. Wendy got PRS to donate a guitar, we got OpenMortgage to donate an iPod, and Rams Head kicked in some free tickets to UB40. Blah, blah, blah... that's enough the background.
So... I have very interesting and colorful friends. One of them is Charles Funk - one bad-ass photographer (check out http://charlesfunk.com) He's been a close friend on die-hard fan of my music for years. Charles also has some colorful friends. One of them is named Buzz. I'm sure Buzz has a proper first and last name, but "Buzz" is all I ever knew. And this kat lives up to his nickname quite well since 90% of the times that he's been present for a band outting, he's managed to get shitfaced - quick. Buzz aparently suffered a terrible motorcycle accident years ago that rendered him a little mentally challenged. You wouldn't really know it talking to him in general conversation, but it's obvious after prolonged exposure that his reasoning skills are greatly diminished. Especially when it comes to consuming alcohol. And after our first dose of Buzz years ago, everyone in the band sorta grins when Charles announces he'll be attending an event. This was the case for Roedown. Buzz was there in all his splendor. Zak and Terry (guitar and bass player) were excited to see Buzz again... not to catch up on old times or talk about music... Nah, they just wanted to get old Buzz shit-faced again and see what trouble they could get him into. They did a GREAT job at Roedown.
For most of the early afternoon at Roedown, I was busy running around doing coordination-type stuff. With the bands, with the Roedown officials, with the tailgate people... Busy, busy, busy. So by the time my band, The Populists, were ready to hit the stage, my band had already played a significant hand in leading Buzz down the Whisky Highway via EarlyTimes Avenue. Zak had arrived at Roedown with his signature super-size plastic bottle-o-EarlyTimes and was anxious and happy to share it with whoever would take a swig -especially Buzz who was happy to partake. A few days before Roedown, Charles had come up with the idea of having Buzz introduce the band before we rocked out. I thought it sounded like a harmless enough idea at the time, but little did I know that Buzz would be in rare form by the time we were ready to play. Somehow he managed to get to the stage and proceeded to introduced us as "the greatest fuckin' rock-n-roll band in the world" followed by some other unintelligible gibberish. Zak, my guitar player, was laughing so hard after Buzz's intro, he was doubled over - 'course, he been partaking of the EarlyTimes too. Good Times compliments of EarlyTimes. And, for the record, I did not have even one little sip of the whisky. In fact, when we took the stage, my alcohol consumption for the day consisted of a tiny shot of Tuaca minutes before.
I'm pretty sure Buzz kept on cruising down EarlyTimes avenue after his MC duties for the band had ended because about an hour or so later, he was having problems standing. Uh, he was also having problems sitting. So much so that he went from sitting in a chair to laying on the ground face first. Somewhere between the chair and the ground, Buzz managed to gash his head open on another nearby chair. So there he was, on the ground, bleeding profusely from his head, unable to right himself, unable to get up, unable to form a coherent sentence. And to his rescue comes my Florence Nightengale wife. She got direct pressure on his wound and ordered me to find Charles and a first-aid get. I found the first-aid kit in our van and I found Charles in the big red barn taking photos of Zak and his nearly-naked wife with a guitar. Ah, another two passengers on EarlyTimes Avenue. I called out "Hey Charles, Buzz just fell and hit his head - it's pretty bad." Charles looked at me like "yeah? so?"
I continued "Hey man, he's probably gonna need stitches..." Charles paused from his photo shoot and shot me an irritated glance "Can't you see I'm a little busy here?!"
Got it. Boobies come before Buzz. OK.
Anyway, my wife ended up getting Buzz back on a chair. But not before Terry (bass player) grabs the half-empty bottle of EarlyTimes, props it up under Buzz's arm, and snaps a picture. Classy. And then once Buzz is back in a seated position, Zak comes to lend a hand... "Buzz, what you need is another swig of whisky, man!" I quickly grabbed the bottle from Zak and gave him the "what the f*ck are you thinking, dude?!" look. He sheepishly grinned and mumbled "sorry"
Well we got Buzz into a car and Charles got him stitches later that day. Terry got his trophy picture, I got sunburned, Zak got fired from the band, and the MS Walk got nearly $2k from our fundraising efforts.
That's the long and short of it. Or at least that's all I have to say for now.
Here's a little background... ROEDOWN - it happens every year in April -usually the first Sunday. This year was the 35th running. It's Steeple Chase Racing - a little different than the standard around-the-track racing. And the biggest question every year for Roedown is "What's the weather forecast?" Aside from that, it's not only a horse race, but it's a huge conglomeration of tailgates -the social event that ushers in spring.
Me and/or my band have played at Roedown for 4 out of the past 5 years. This year, my wife and I did an MS fundraiser in conjunction with the live music. There were two other bands involved too: Sweet Leda and Pressing Strings. Wendy Marxen, the Marlborough Hunt Club's Marketing Director (and super-cool chick) was heading up the "Music Festival" angle of Roedown and was counting on a local radio station to do most of the grunt and leg work when it came to getting a stage, sponsors, etc. Unfortunately, this local radio station fell FAR short of Wendy's expectations and she called me to "help coordinate" things. My wife and I turned it into a huge fund-raising tailgate. Wendy got PRS to donate a guitar, we got OpenMortgage to donate an iPod, and Rams Head kicked in some free tickets to UB40. Blah, blah, blah... that's enough the background.
So... I have very interesting and colorful friends. One of them is Charles Funk - one bad-ass photographer (check out http://charlesfunk.com) He's been a close friend on die-hard fan of my music for years. Charles also has some colorful friends. One of them is named Buzz. I'm sure Buzz has a proper first and last name, but "Buzz" is all I ever knew. And this kat lives up to his nickname quite well since 90% of the times that he's been present for a band outting, he's managed to get shitfaced - quick. Buzz aparently suffered a terrible motorcycle accident years ago that rendered him a little mentally challenged. You wouldn't really know it talking to him in general conversation, but it's obvious after prolonged exposure that his reasoning skills are greatly diminished. Especially when it comes to consuming alcohol. And after our first dose of Buzz years ago, everyone in the band sorta grins when Charles announces he'll be attending an event. This was the case for Roedown. Buzz was there in all his splendor. Zak and Terry (guitar and bass player) were excited to see Buzz again... not to catch up on old times or talk about music... Nah, they just wanted to get old Buzz shit-faced again and see what trouble they could get him into. They did a GREAT job at Roedown.
For most of the early afternoon at Roedown, I was busy running around doing coordination-type stuff. With the bands, with the Roedown officials, with the tailgate people... Busy, busy, busy. So by the time my band, The Populists, were ready to hit the stage, my band had already played a significant hand in leading Buzz down the Whisky Highway via EarlyTimes Avenue. Zak had arrived at Roedown with his signature super-size plastic bottle-o-EarlyTimes and was anxious and happy to share it with whoever would take a swig -especially Buzz who was happy to partake. A few days before Roedown, Charles had come up with the idea of having Buzz introduce the band before we rocked out. I thought it sounded like a harmless enough idea at the time, but little did I know that Buzz would be in rare form by the time we were ready to play. Somehow he managed to get to the stage and proceeded to introduced us as "the greatest fuckin' rock-n-roll band in the world" followed by some other unintelligible gibberish. Zak, my guitar player, was laughing so hard after Buzz's intro, he was doubled over - 'course, he been partaking of the EarlyTimes too. Good Times compliments of EarlyTimes. And, for the record, I did not have even one little sip of the whisky. In fact, when we took the stage, my alcohol consumption for the day consisted of a tiny shot of Tuaca minutes before.
I'm pretty sure Buzz kept on cruising down EarlyTimes avenue after his MC duties for the band had ended because about an hour or so later, he was having problems standing. Uh, he was also having problems sitting. So much so that he went from sitting in a chair to laying on the ground face first. Somewhere between the chair and the ground, Buzz managed to gash his head open on another nearby chair. So there he was, on the ground, bleeding profusely from his head, unable to right himself, unable to get up, unable to form a coherent sentence. And to his rescue comes my Florence Nightengale wife. She got direct pressure on his wound and ordered me to find Charles and a first-aid get. I found the first-aid kit in our van and I found Charles in the big red barn taking photos of Zak and his nearly-naked wife with a guitar. Ah, another two passengers on EarlyTimes Avenue. I called out "Hey Charles, Buzz just fell and hit his head - it's pretty bad." Charles looked at me like "yeah? so?"
I continued "Hey man, he's probably gonna need stitches..." Charles paused from his photo shoot and shot me an irritated glance "Can't you see I'm a little busy here?!"
Got it. Boobies come before Buzz. OK.
Anyway, my wife ended up getting Buzz back on a chair. But not before Terry (bass player) grabs the half-empty bottle of EarlyTimes, props it up under Buzz's arm, and snaps a picture. Classy. And then once Buzz is back in a seated position, Zak comes to lend a hand... "Buzz, what you need is another swig of whisky, man!" I quickly grabbed the bottle from Zak and gave him the "what the f*ck are you thinking, dude?!" look. He sheepishly grinned and mumbled "sorry"
Well we got Buzz into a car and Charles got him stitches later that day. Terry got his trophy picture, I got sunburned, Zak got fired from the band, and the MS Walk got nearly $2k from our fundraising efforts.
That's the long and short of it. Or at least that's all I have to say for now.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Full Circle
Back in 1999/2000, I decided to join or start a band. I got together with three other guys and we started muddling through songs. Somewhere along the line, three of us decided that the fourth guy didn't fit so we mercilessly kicked him out of the band -the band that he thought he started.
We practiced and practiced and tried to get gigs as best we could. We decided on a name "SlipMickie" that our drummer, McGee, said came to him while he was sitting listening to some live jazz. The band never went too far, but we did perform for my CD release party and it was a great night. After that we all sort of drifted apart.
It wasn't until recently that the three of us connected on Facebook. The drummer, McGee, lives in Virginia and is a master at video production/editing (much like he was when we played together), the bass player, Matt Batarseh, continued playing in bands - first it was "Another Lincoln" and now it is "Fiction 20 Down". I got to open for that band tonight at Armadillo's in Annapolis. I played a solo hour set of originals and I thought I did pretty good. I got to catch a lot of Fiction 20 Down's music. Honestly, I wasn't impressed, but it was good to see and hear Matt play again. I was anxious to catch up with him. I wondered how he and his wife were doing and if they had any kids. They did. A three-year old daughter. But Matt and his wife are divorced and, because of this recent development, he's quitting the band so it'll be easier to arrange visitations. That's sad. I always liked Matt and I always thought his wife was a quiet and sweet person.
I never asked exactly what went wrong because that would've been an involved answer, I'm sure. But it really left me with a sadness in my heart. And then I looked over at my wife and, again, I was grateful to have found her. I think we'll be together forever. I think it's destiny. No one can say for sure, but I know her and she knows me -at least we both think so. And, the important thing -- WE FIGHT. Often. Not the knock-down, drag-em-out fights, but we disagree, debate, and argue all the time. And when one of us unknowingly pisses off the other... well, let's just say it doesn't go undiscussed. That's a good thing.
Back in 1999/2000, I decided to join/start a band. I also met a girl and decided to take a chance on love again. Tonight all that came full circle and made me grateful for how things work out.
We practiced and practiced and tried to get gigs as best we could. We decided on a name "SlipMickie" that our drummer, McGee, said came to him while he was sitting listening to some live jazz. The band never went too far, but we did perform for my CD release party and it was a great night. After that we all sort of drifted apart.
It wasn't until recently that the three of us connected on Facebook. The drummer, McGee, lives in Virginia and is a master at video production/editing (much like he was when we played together), the bass player, Matt Batarseh, continued playing in bands - first it was "Another Lincoln" and now it is "Fiction 20 Down". I got to open for that band tonight at Armadillo's in Annapolis. I played a solo hour set of originals and I thought I did pretty good. I got to catch a lot of Fiction 20 Down's music. Honestly, I wasn't impressed, but it was good to see and hear Matt play again. I was anxious to catch up with him. I wondered how he and his wife were doing and if they had any kids. They did. A three-year old daughter. But Matt and his wife are divorced and, because of this recent development, he's quitting the band so it'll be easier to arrange visitations. That's sad. I always liked Matt and I always thought his wife was a quiet and sweet person.
I never asked exactly what went wrong because that would've been an involved answer, I'm sure. But it really left me with a sadness in my heart. And then I looked over at my wife and, again, I was grateful to have found her. I think we'll be together forever. I think it's destiny. No one can say for sure, but I know her and she knows me -at least we both think so. And, the important thing -- WE FIGHT. Often. Not the knock-down, drag-em-out fights, but we disagree, debate, and argue all the time. And when one of us unknowingly pisses off the other... well, let's just say it doesn't go undiscussed. That's a good thing.
Back in 1999/2000, I decided to join/start a band. I also met a girl and decided to take a chance on love again. Tonight all that came full circle and made me grateful for how things work out.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Dogfish Head
Never name a beer such a complicated name. Because after a few of the said beers, it's likely you'll be unable to pronounce it.
I got to hang out at the Dogfish Head Ale House in Gaithersburg tonight. Friends of ours were holding an MS Fundraiser there and I was in charge of entertainment. I managed to get the very talented Doug Segree (http://segree.com) and Angie Miller (http://angiemiller.com) to come and each play a solo set. Then, me and "the band" played for an hour.
Tonight, "the band" consisted of Terry, Zak, and Ken. Ken is the drummer of an up-and-coming Baltimore-based band, FALL BACK PLAN. He has sat in with us before in a pinch. Good drummer and a nice guy. Zak looks tired these days but his joy and exuberance really comes out after playing live with the band. It was a good time for a good cause and it was the first real band outing in a LONG time.
Charles Funk came out too and shot some cool pictures. I haven't seen them yet, but I just know they're cool. Because Charles is cool and he's great photographer and a great friend.
My only regret? It was a Tuesday night. That means work in the morning. Ugh.
I got to hang out at the Dogfish Head Ale House in Gaithersburg tonight. Friends of ours were holding an MS Fundraiser there and I was in charge of entertainment. I managed to get the very talented Doug Segree (http://segree.com) and Angie Miller (http://angiemiller.com) to come and each play a solo set. Then, me and "the band" played for an hour.
Tonight, "the band" consisted of Terry, Zak, and Ken. Ken is the drummer of an up-and-coming Baltimore-based band, FALL BACK PLAN. He has sat in with us before in a pinch. Good drummer and a nice guy. Zak looks tired these days but his joy and exuberance really comes out after playing live with the band. It was a good time for a good cause and it was the first real band outing in a LONG time.
Charles Funk came out too and shot some cool pictures. I haven't seen them yet, but I just know they're cool. Because Charles is cool and he's great photographer and a great friend.
My only regret? It was a Tuesday night. That means work in the morning. Ugh.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Passage
Today was unseasonably warm. March 8th and it felt like April or May 8th. I was looking forward to this weather... this warmth and sunshine. I hate the cold. It makes me edgy and -at times- miserable. I can't get warm and it's hard to feel the sun even though it blinds me on the way home from work almost every day during the cold, short days of winter.
Another change of seasons is about to dawn and although I'm happy about the passage of winter, I'm sad about the overall passage of time. The older you get, the faster the moments fly before your eyes. The older you get, the less you can enjoy the "here and now" without worrying about tomorrow. I'm always worried about tomorrow these days. Not just mine, but my family's. And many times of late I find myself disappointed in today. Disappointed about what I did with "today" and just afraid that -as they say- tomorrow never comes.
Today was unreasonably warm.
Another change of seasons is about to dawn and although I'm happy about the passage of winter, I'm sad about the overall passage of time. The older you get, the faster the moments fly before your eyes. The older you get, the less you can enjoy the "here and now" without worrying about tomorrow. I'm always worried about tomorrow these days. Not just mine, but my family's. And many times of late I find myself disappointed in today. Disappointed about what I did with "today" and just afraid that -as they say- tomorrow never comes.
Today was unreasonably warm.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
DJ Michael K. Returns to Pesce
If you haven't read the 12 Dec 2008 blog entry of mine, it might be best to do that right now since this blog entry plays off that one.
Last night I got the opportunity to return to Pesce in Annapolis to DJ and I had more advance notice from "DJ Joe" that he'd need a fill-in. I actually knew about it three weeks ago and I'd been looking forward to "Friday the 13th" - Valentine's Eve (if there is such a thing). The plan was to have my wife and a couple of her friends come out and party with their favorite DJ. Asa loves to dance and so does her friend, Filippa. They like to dance to "real" dance/club music and most of the bar gigs I've done in the past aren't the proper place for "real" dance/club music. Pesce is.
Unfortunately, it didn't work out with my wife and her friends being able to come so I headed there all by myself. This time I was a little more relaxed. I had studied up on the newer hip-hop and rap as well as the newest dance grooves and remixes. I also dug up some club classics and old school jams that I hoped would go over well. Last time I was there, the crowd was so YOUNG (18 & Over Night) I was afraid to go back too far with the music for fear a song would flop and clear the dance floor. I just wasn't sure if these "young'ns" would "get it".
This time, I had some study time and I also came to the realization that I'm a great DJ -really- I know that sounds like I'm bragging, but it's the truth. I've been told by countless people countless times how great I am as a DJ and I take great pride in that. So I figured since I'm such a great DJ and music is universal, I was going to march into Pesce and just do what I do; play what I'm feeling will fit; read the crowd; and have a good time.
And I did. It was 18 & Over again and the average age of the 250+ crowd was probably 23. There were a lot of what I call "yo-boys" there too. These guys would be content to hear hardcore hip-hop and rap all night. No DJ -or bar manager- wants to play hip-hop and rap all night (at least in this type of joint) because sooner or later the "thugs" show up and start making trouble. Fights break out, the cops are called, etc. It's just a bad scene. And Pesce is already on thin ice because of past trouble. So I was told (not like I didn't know this already) the first night I played there NOT to play too much rap or hip-hop back-to-back. They wanted a good mix of Top-40, dance, and R&B with the occassional crowd-pleasing, booty-shakin' rap song. This is basically what I did for the seven years I DJ'd at Acme in Annapolis and the management there loved me because of my ability to go from Ludacris to Abba to AC/DC without missing a beat or clearing the dance floor. I figured I could do the same at Pesce and so I did. And everyone loved it. I loved it. Most of the night was a continuous beat-mixed swirl of music and the crowd showed their approval by keeping the dance floor occupied. I got lots of compliments from patrons and the management alike and my system sounded great!
But, alas, no DJ adventure story would be complete without one drunken girl story. Sadly, my black-eyed booty-shakin' mistress from my first night at Pesce (trust me, read the blog) didn't make it out for my second appearance. "Phwew!" I thought. That is until, I had the pleasure of meeting Haley. Ah yes, this rather inebriated girl found a new use for my speaker pole... uhuh. You see where this is going? See, I'm sure using my speaker stand as a stripper pole seemed like a great idea to drunk Haley, but given that the speaker stand is (a) not bolted down and (b) supporting a 30 lb. speaker, it is more than probably NOT a good idea to twirl around it and try to hang off of it. Ah, the virtues of alcohol.
Haley was one of those energized, excited drunk people. She told me countless times how I was "the bomb" and how I was the "best DJ EVER!!" while I tried to steady her and keep her from bumping into the equipment or tipping over the the speaker stand. Her more-sober girlfriends stood mortified on the dancefloor watching Haley put on her show. Haley's boyfriend sheepishly tried to coax her off the stage where I was, but he seemed geniunely in fear to try to physically remove her. I'm just trying to make eye contact with a bouncer so I could flash my "please... help... me..." expression. No dice. No bouncers within eye contact. Just Haley all up in my face frantically shouting out requests... "Avril Lavine!!! Play it! PLAY IT!! PLAY IT NOW!!!" All the while she's thrashing and wiggling about trying desperately to get me to dance with her. "C'mon, dance with me DJ!!! I'm a really good dancer!!"
"I can see that, but I'm not!" I replied.
Where's a frickin' bouncer when you need one!?
This went on for 20 minutes off and on. I had resorted to sending text messages to the manager's phone (who was texting me with announcements to make over the mic) pleading for help. He thought it was funny and it seemed every time he looked over, it was the moment where Haley had stepped down from the stage for a breather... and more alcohol. I don't like to be rude to people -especially drunk pretty girls- so I was just trying to politely ignore her hoping she'd go away but this chick was determined. So determined, in fact, she decided to stop the song playing on my left CD deck so that I could more clearly hear her next request.
That was it! I had to put my foot down. So, in my firmest, meanest DJ voice (I'm sure it was quite frightening) I said "Look! You just stopped the damn song! You gotta get off the stage and STAY OFF THE STAGE!" Haley looked at me and I could tell she was trying her hardest to focus. She took a deep breath and turned and wandered off stage to her waiting boyfriend. He had observed the whole scene and he sort of mouthed "sorry dude" to me and flashed an apologetic look. And to his credit, he kept Haley off the stage the rest of the night. Actually, I don't think she lasted much longer after that before she had to be taken home.
Hey, it comes with the territory. I'm a DJ. Whenever large amounts of alcohol are mixed with precision-guided dance music, there's bound to be a few drunken encounters with the DJ.
It's OK, Haley. Hope you're not paying too dearly today for all that fun last night.
Happy Valentine's Day.
Last night I got the opportunity to return to Pesce in Annapolis to DJ and I had more advance notice from "DJ Joe" that he'd need a fill-in. I actually knew about it three weeks ago and I'd been looking forward to "Friday the 13th" - Valentine's Eve (if there is such a thing). The plan was to have my wife and a couple of her friends come out and party with their favorite DJ. Asa loves to dance and so does her friend, Filippa. They like to dance to "real" dance/club music and most of the bar gigs I've done in the past aren't the proper place for "real" dance/club music. Pesce is.
Unfortunately, it didn't work out with my wife and her friends being able to come so I headed there all by myself. This time I was a little more relaxed. I had studied up on the newer hip-hop and rap as well as the newest dance grooves and remixes. I also dug up some club classics and old school jams that I hoped would go over well. Last time I was there, the crowd was so YOUNG (18 & Over Night) I was afraid to go back too far with the music for fear a song would flop and clear the dance floor. I just wasn't sure if these "young'ns" would "get it".
This time, I had some study time and I also came to the realization that I'm a great DJ -really- I know that sounds like I'm bragging, but it's the truth. I've been told by countless people countless times how great I am as a DJ and I take great pride in that. So I figured since I'm such a great DJ and music is universal, I was going to march into Pesce and just do what I do; play what I'm feeling will fit; read the crowd; and have a good time.
And I did. It was 18 & Over again and the average age of the 250+ crowd was probably 23. There were a lot of what I call "yo-boys" there too. These guys would be content to hear hardcore hip-hop and rap all night. No DJ -or bar manager- wants to play hip-hop and rap all night (at least in this type of joint) because sooner or later the "thugs" show up and start making trouble. Fights break out, the cops are called, etc. It's just a bad scene. And Pesce is already on thin ice because of past trouble. So I was told (not like I didn't know this already) the first night I played there NOT to play too much rap or hip-hop back-to-back. They wanted a good mix of Top-40, dance, and R&B with the occassional crowd-pleasing, booty-shakin' rap song. This is basically what I did for the seven years I DJ'd at Acme in Annapolis and the management there loved me because of my ability to go from Ludacris to Abba to AC/DC without missing a beat or clearing the dance floor. I figured I could do the same at Pesce and so I did. And everyone loved it. I loved it. Most of the night was a continuous beat-mixed swirl of music and the crowd showed their approval by keeping the dance floor occupied. I got lots of compliments from patrons and the management alike and my system sounded great!
But, alas, no DJ adventure story would be complete without one drunken girl story. Sadly, my black-eyed booty-shakin' mistress from my first night at Pesce (trust me, read the blog) didn't make it out for my second appearance. "Phwew!" I thought. That is until, I had the pleasure of meeting Haley. Ah yes, this rather inebriated girl found a new use for my speaker pole... uhuh. You see where this is going? See, I'm sure using my speaker stand as a stripper pole seemed like a great idea to drunk Haley, but given that the speaker stand is (a) not bolted down and (b) supporting a 30 lb. speaker, it is more than probably NOT a good idea to twirl around it and try to hang off of it. Ah, the virtues of alcohol.
Haley was one of those energized, excited drunk people. She told me countless times how I was "the bomb" and how I was the "best DJ EVER!!" while I tried to steady her and keep her from bumping into the equipment or tipping over the the speaker stand. Her more-sober girlfriends stood mortified on the dancefloor watching Haley put on her show. Haley's boyfriend sheepishly tried to coax her off the stage where I was, but he seemed geniunely in fear to try to physically remove her. I'm just trying to make eye contact with a bouncer so I could flash my "please... help... me..." expression. No dice. No bouncers within eye contact. Just Haley all up in my face frantically shouting out requests... "Avril Lavine!!! Play it! PLAY IT!! PLAY IT NOW!!!" All the while she's thrashing and wiggling about trying desperately to get me to dance with her. "C'mon, dance with me DJ!!! I'm a really good dancer!!"
"I can see that, but I'm not!" I replied.
Where's a frickin' bouncer when you need one!?
This went on for 20 minutes off and on. I had resorted to sending text messages to the manager's phone (who was texting me with announcements to make over the mic) pleading for help. He thought it was funny and it seemed every time he looked over, it was the moment where Haley had stepped down from the stage for a breather... and more alcohol. I don't like to be rude to people -especially drunk pretty girls- so I was just trying to politely ignore her hoping she'd go away but this chick was determined. So determined, in fact, she decided to stop the song playing on my left CD deck so that I could more clearly hear her next request.
That was it! I had to put my foot down. So, in my firmest, meanest DJ voice (I'm sure it was quite frightening) I said "Look! You just stopped the damn song! You gotta get off the stage and STAY OFF THE STAGE!" Haley looked at me and I could tell she was trying her hardest to focus. She took a deep breath and turned and wandered off stage to her waiting boyfriend. He had observed the whole scene and he sort of mouthed "sorry dude" to me and flashed an apologetic look. And to his credit, he kept Haley off the stage the rest of the night. Actually, I don't think she lasted much longer after that before she had to be taken home.
Hey, it comes with the territory. I'm a DJ. Whenever large amounts of alcohol are mixed with precision-guided dance music, there's bound to be a few drunken encounters with the DJ.
It's OK, Haley. Hope you're not paying too dearly today for all that fun last night.
Happy Valentine's Day.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Stimulus... my @ss
Lots of folks expected President Obama to walk on water. I'm just hoping he can tread it.
Executives and Politicians who make hundreds of thousands of dollars a year -and have been doing so for many years- can not possibly begin to relate to what you and I are going through.
The politicians who got us into this mess -or sat around collecting a fat paycheck while this whole mess came to be- can not possibly come up with a way out.
This is not a Republican issue. It's not a Democratic issue. It's an issue of greed and stupidity.
Why do a select few get to allocate the hard earned money of millions of hard-working, patriotic people without even consulting with them. Oh yeah... cuz we supposedly elected them to do so. Right.
I'll leave you with the words of Dr. Adrian Rogers, a conservative three-term president of the Southern Baptist Convention:
"You cannot legislate the poor into freedom by legislating the wealthy out of freedom.
What one person receives without working for, another person must work for without receiving.
The government cannot give to anybody anything that the government does not first take from somebody else.
When half of the people get the idea that they do not have to work because the other half is going to take care of them, and when the other half gets the idea that it does no good to work because somebody else is going to get what they work for, that my dear friend, is about the end of any nation. You cannot multiply wealth by dividing it."
Executives and Politicians who make hundreds of thousands of dollars a year -and have been doing so for many years- can not possibly begin to relate to what you and I are going through.
The politicians who got us into this mess -or sat around collecting a fat paycheck while this whole mess came to be- can not possibly come up with a way out.
This is not a Republican issue. It's not a Democratic issue. It's an issue of greed and stupidity.
Why do a select few get to allocate the hard earned money of millions of hard-working, patriotic people without even consulting with them. Oh yeah... cuz we supposedly elected them to do so. Right.
I'll leave you with the words of Dr. Adrian Rogers, a conservative three-term president of the Southern Baptist Convention:
"You cannot legislate the poor into freedom by legislating the wealthy out of freedom.
What one person receives without working for, another person must work for without receiving.
The government cannot give to anybody anything that the government does not first take from somebody else.
When half of the people get the idea that they do not have to work because the other half is going to take care of them, and when the other half gets the idea that it does no good to work because somebody else is going to get what they work for, that my dear friend, is about the end of any nation. You cannot multiply wealth by dividing it."
Dr. Adrian Rogers, 1931-2005
Saturday, February 7, 2009
25 Random Things About Me...
Twenty-Five Random Things About Michael K.
Yeah, this seems to be all the rage on Facebook these days... I usually don't do these types of surveys, but I have a blog to keep happy so this will fill up an entry and, of course, anyone who reads it will gain some insight into what makes me who I am. So... here goes...
1. Although I have step- and half-siblings, I was raised pretty much an only child. There's 20 years' difference between me and my youngest half-brother.
2. My mom was 40 when I was born. My dad was 59. Two years later, he died. He was buried on Christmas Eve. From then on, I was raised entirely by my mom. She is my super-hero. Oh yeah, if Dad were alive today, he'd be 99.
3. I started taking guitar lessons when I was 7. By 13, I had lost interest. I also played trumpet and viola in junior and senior high school.
4. My love for guitar was re-ignited in high school when I got a hold of my friend's electric. Soon after, I sold my Commodore-64 (which I had won in a contest) for a fraction of its worth and put the proceeds towards a Yamaha SE150 black electric guitar and a small Peavey amp.
5. My first public performance took place in 1986 at the Fairlane Village Mall (Pottsville, PA). Me and my friend performed a rockin' rendition of "Johnny B. Goode" for the Jerry Lewis MD Telethon. The whole thing was televised
locally and provided me with some "street cred" in high school as a guitar player.
6. I joined the Army straight out of high school and didn't do a whole lot of guitar playing between 1988 and 1992. While stationed at Fort Meade, MD, I bought a cheap acoustic guitar and started banging out some tunes.
7. I became a DJ totally by accident. While I was in the Army.
8. I got my first job (paper boy) when I was 14. I've been working ever since. Starting in 1992, I've had at least two jobs (sources of income). Sometimes three.
9. I grew up as a member of the Mennonite Church. Later, I attended a Baptist Christian school for 8th & 9th grade. Here I decided I wanted to be a minister. I also met my best friend and first true love.
10. I was the first-ever Spelling Bee Champion for Word of Life Christian Academy. I made it to regionals. The word that got me was "diocese" because the idiot official kept pronouncing it "DIASISS"!!
11. I'm an extroverted introvert. I was extremely shy and self-conscious growing up. This lasted into my Army years.
12. I've been married twice. My first (practice) wife and I are still friends. My current wife is my soulmate and my bestest friend.
13. I met both of my wives while I was DJing at a bar. Different bars. VERY different bars.
14. I never took the singer/songwriter thing seriously until 1999. Before then, I never thought anyone would want to hear me sing anything I had written. Boy, was I wrong.
15. The positive-thinker in me is constantly fighting with the realist in me.
16. To me, being a parent is a heavy responibility that scared the be-jesus out of me.
17. Parenthood has helped me rediscover and cherish the little things in life that grown-ups so often take for granted. My son and daughter have already taught me more than I have taught them.
18. I hate confrontation and I try to get along with everyone. Even more, I want everyone to like me and I take it very personally when someone doesn't -even if I don't really like them.
19. I would do almost anything for anyone at anytime. This has led to me being taken advantage of more than a few times.
20. My daughter has crowned me the "King of Stinky" thanks to my potent flatulent abilities. She announced this publicly
at her preschool. Doh!
21. I avoid discussing or arguing about religion, relationships, and politics. It's a losing a battle.
22. I am a music nut. I collect, study, play, record, write, perform, discuss, and search for music. Music. Music. Music.
23. I have a lot of friends, but very few close friends. I have a very high standard when it comes to close or best friends. Still, I am blessed and enriched by my current circle of friends.
24. I love to cook. Unfortunately, I also like to eat. Oh, and I'm not so good at cleaning up.
25. I believe Annapolis has one of the BEST local music scenes and I LOVE to go out an soak up the live vibe.
Yeah, this seems to be all the rage on Facebook these days... I usually don't do these types of surveys, but I have a blog to keep happy so this will fill up an entry and, of course, anyone who reads it will gain some insight into what makes me who I am. So... here goes...
1. Although I have step- and half-siblings, I was raised pretty much an only child. There's 20 years' difference between me and my youngest half-brother.
2. My mom was 40 when I was born. My dad was 59. Two years later, he died. He was buried on Christmas Eve. From then on, I was raised entirely by my mom. She is my super-hero. Oh yeah, if Dad were alive today, he'd be 99.
3. I started taking guitar lessons when I was 7. By 13, I had lost interest. I also played trumpet and viola in junior and senior high school.
4. My love for guitar was re-ignited in high school when I got a hold of my friend's electric. Soon after, I sold my Commodore-64 (which I had won in a contest) for a fraction of its worth and put the proceeds towards a Yamaha SE150 black electric guitar and a small Peavey amp.
5. My first public performance took place in 1986 at the Fairlane Village Mall (Pottsville, PA). Me and my friend performed a rockin' rendition of "Johnny B. Goode" for the Jerry Lewis MD Telethon. The whole thing was televised
locally and provided me with some "street cred" in high school as a guitar player.
6. I joined the Army straight out of high school and didn't do a whole lot of guitar playing between 1988 and 1992. While stationed at Fort Meade, MD, I bought a cheap acoustic guitar and started banging out some tunes.
7. I became a DJ totally by accident. While I was in the Army.
8. I got my first job (paper boy) when I was 14. I've been working ever since. Starting in 1992, I've had at least two jobs (sources of income). Sometimes three.
9. I grew up as a member of the Mennonite Church. Later, I attended a Baptist Christian school for 8th & 9th grade. Here I decided I wanted to be a minister. I also met my best friend and first true love.
10. I was the first-ever Spelling Bee Champion for Word of Life Christian Academy. I made it to regionals. The word that got me was "diocese" because the idiot official kept pronouncing it "DIASISS"!!
11. I'm an extroverted introvert. I was extremely shy and self-conscious growing up. This lasted into my Army years.
12. I've been married twice. My first (practice) wife and I are still friends. My current wife is my soulmate and my bestest friend.
13. I met both of my wives while I was DJing at a bar. Different bars. VERY different bars.
14. I never took the singer/songwriter thing seriously until 1999. Before then, I never thought anyone would want to hear me sing anything I had written. Boy, was I wrong.
15. The positive-thinker in me is constantly fighting with the realist in me.
16. To me, being a parent is a heavy responibility that scared the be-jesus out of me.
17. Parenthood has helped me rediscover and cherish the little things in life that grown-ups so often take for granted. My son and daughter have already taught me more than I have taught them.
18. I hate confrontation and I try to get along with everyone. Even more, I want everyone to like me and I take it very personally when someone doesn't -even if I don't really like them.
19. I would do almost anything for anyone at anytime. This has led to me being taken advantage of more than a few times.
20. My daughter has crowned me the "King of Stinky" thanks to my potent flatulent abilities. She announced this publicly
at her preschool. Doh!
21. I avoid discussing or arguing about religion, relationships, and politics. It's a losing a battle.
22. I am a music nut. I collect, study, play, record, write, perform, discuss, and search for music. Music. Music. Music.
23. I have a lot of friends, but very few close friends. I have a very high standard when it comes to close or best friends. Still, I am blessed and enriched by my current circle of friends.
24. I love to cook. Unfortunately, I also like to eat. Oh, and I'm not so good at cleaning up.
25. I believe Annapolis has one of the BEST local music scenes and I LOVE to go out an soak up the live vibe.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Sunday, January 25, 2009
The ACME
Back in "the day", I spent most weekends DJing at the ACME Bar & Grill in historic downtown Annapolis. I landed there by accident one Saturday night as a fill-in DJ and the next thing you know, I was part of the ACME Family. At one point in time a couple years ago, I was DJing there Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights each week. On top of that, I was also DJing wedding receptions. It got to be too much for me and since wedding receptions pay way better than bar gigs, I abdicated my DJ throne there almost six years ago. I hand-picked and personally trained my replacement who still DJs there two nights a week.
The coolest thing about ACME was the people. ACME had the best bartenders in Annapolis (I think)... Phil Jones, Bobby G., Kevin Eply, and Troy. There were others, but these four stand out. In the golden days of my DJ Rule there, it was wall-to-wall people after 11pm on Fridays and Saturdays. I played everything and anything and that's what they loved about me. And I loved being able to look out over a sea of partying people going nuts for the music. And there were the bartenders... facing a hundred thirsty, drunk people shouting orders of beer and mixed drinks. I really don't know how they did it. It was non-stop chaos. Girls would jump up on the bar and dance until a bouncer got to the bar to escort them safely back to ground level. And every so often, Bobby G. would be possessed (drunk) enough to jump up on the bar and lead everyone in a sing-along of his favorite song; "You Never Even Called Me By My Name" by David Allen Coe. There were other sing-alongs that I would initiate... like "Pour Some Sugar On Me" and "Livin' on a Prayer" among others. It was a CHEERS type of place and it had its fair share of "regulars". I knew half of the people by name and most everyone knew me. After 11pm, the crowd shifted from the chilling-out after-dinner crowd to the younger we-came-to-dance-and-party crowd. Naturally, the music was more dance-oriented featuring newer songs intermixed with disco, funk, 80s, and rock-n-roll. It was the best mix in Annapolis. I knew it, the owner of ACME knew it, and the bartenders knew it. ACME was my place on the weekends. I wasn't just a DJ, I was a member of the crew and I manipulated the crowd using music and announcements in order to help out the bartenders and the bouncers. If there was a fight breaking out on the dance floor, I'd tone the music down until the bouncers could neutralize the situation. I'd constantly switch the music up to keep the crowd guessing and surprised. Ah, it was heaven most nights. But like I said, it got to be too much and so I quit DJing there almost six years ago.
A lot can change in six years. ACME's original owner sold the business to one of the the bartenders and another local guy. They kept the name the same and at first the transition seemed quite seamless. I would hear from my replacement how things had changed; mostly all of the original bartenders quit or were fired and replaced by pretty girls with nice figures and very little bartending experience. Suddenly, there was no longer any live music in ACME on the weekdays -rookie iPod DJs seemed a suitable replacement. The menu changed, the walls were painted (baby blue?!), and more LCD TVs were added.
I had only been in the "new" ACME three or four times in the six years since I left. Last night, I got a call from the regular DJ asking if I'd be willing to fill in for him. Short on cash and anxious for nostalgia, I agreed. I came away from the gig with a deep sadness and a slight sickening feeling in my gut at what ACME has become. The management/owners and the DJs they have now are to blame. The feel-good party vibe of the place has been sucked out and the spirit has been trampled by a bad mix of hip-hop and trashy top-40. Nobody really dances at ACME anymore and I can't understand how they get away with charging THREE DOLLARS at the door to get in. The hottie girls are still showing up, but everyone just sort of stands around and drinks. It's disgusting. Really. The sound system is downright pitiful; a handful of 10-inch powered Peavey speakers mounted on the wall behind the bar near ceiling level and tilted down at a perfect angle to drown out customers ordering drinks. The tiny speakers can't handle any bass and they don't do very well with the mids or highs either. The music is just blaring. Two 15-inch JBL powered speakers hang idle -blown out- from the ceiling near the front. They look impressive, I guess. Too bad they didn't work.
All in all it was a sad night and I find myself missing the old ACME. My ACME. I know things have to change, but it's sad when things change so much that something precious is lost in the process. I guess it takes a lot of work and caring to make sure that doesn't happen. And I'm sorry it had to happen to ACME.
The coolest thing about ACME was the people. ACME had the best bartenders in Annapolis (I think)... Phil Jones, Bobby G., Kevin Eply, and Troy. There were others, but these four stand out. In the golden days of my DJ Rule there, it was wall-to-wall people after 11pm on Fridays and Saturdays. I played everything and anything and that's what they loved about me. And I loved being able to look out over a sea of partying people going nuts for the music. And there were the bartenders... facing a hundred thirsty, drunk people shouting orders of beer and mixed drinks. I really don't know how they did it. It was non-stop chaos. Girls would jump up on the bar and dance until a bouncer got to the bar to escort them safely back to ground level. And every so often, Bobby G. would be possessed (drunk) enough to jump up on the bar and lead everyone in a sing-along of his favorite song; "You Never Even Called Me By My Name" by David Allen Coe. There were other sing-alongs that I would initiate... like "Pour Some Sugar On Me" and "Livin' on a Prayer" among others. It was a CHEERS type of place and it had its fair share of "regulars". I knew half of the people by name and most everyone knew me. After 11pm, the crowd shifted from the chilling-out after-dinner crowd to the younger we-came-to-dance-and-party crowd. Naturally, the music was more dance-oriented featuring newer songs intermixed with disco, funk, 80s, and rock-n-roll. It was the best mix in Annapolis. I knew it, the owner of ACME knew it, and the bartenders knew it. ACME was my place on the weekends. I wasn't just a DJ, I was a member of the crew and I manipulated the crowd using music and announcements in order to help out the bartenders and the bouncers. If there was a fight breaking out on the dance floor, I'd tone the music down until the bouncers could neutralize the situation. I'd constantly switch the music up to keep the crowd guessing and surprised. Ah, it was heaven most nights. But like I said, it got to be too much and so I quit DJing there almost six years ago.
A lot can change in six years. ACME's original owner sold the business to one of the the bartenders and another local guy. They kept the name the same and at first the transition seemed quite seamless. I would hear from my replacement how things had changed; mostly all of the original bartenders quit or were fired and replaced by pretty girls with nice figures and very little bartending experience. Suddenly, there was no longer any live music in ACME on the weekdays -rookie iPod DJs seemed a suitable replacement. The menu changed, the walls were painted (baby blue?!), and more LCD TVs were added.
I had only been in the "new" ACME three or four times in the six years since I left. Last night, I got a call from the regular DJ asking if I'd be willing to fill in for him. Short on cash and anxious for nostalgia, I agreed. I came away from the gig with a deep sadness and a slight sickening feeling in my gut at what ACME has become. The management/owners and the DJs they have now are to blame. The feel-good party vibe of the place has been sucked out and the spirit has been trampled by a bad mix of hip-hop and trashy top-40. Nobody really dances at ACME anymore and I can't understand how they get away with charging THREE DOLLARS at the door to get in. The hottie girls are still showing up, but everyone just sort of stands around and drinks. It's disgusting. Really. The sound system is downright pitiful; a handful of 10-inch powered Peavey speakers mounted on the wall behind the bar near ceiling level and tilted down at a perfect angle to drown out customers ordering drinks. The tiny speakers can't handle any bass and they don't do very well with the mids or highs either. The music is just blaring. Two 15-inch JBL powered speakers hang idle -blown out- from the ceiling near the front. They look impressive, I guess. Too bad they didn't work.
All in all it was a sad night and I find myself missing the old ACME. My ACME. I know things have to change, but it's sad when things change so much that something precious is lost in the process. I guess it takes a lot of work and caring to make sure that doesn't happen. And I'm sorry it had to happen to ACME.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Footbal Shmootball
I'm a Redskins fan (hold your laughter) - but I also like the Eagles, the Steelers, and the Green Bay Packers. So on any given Sunday, I can most likely find solace in at least one of my teams winning. Of course I get ridiculed at work by my co-workers because, they tell me, "It's impossible to like that many teams -some of them arch-rivals!!!" Blah, Blah, Blah. It's not like I'm some sort of "sports fanatic" or anything. I don't buy season tickets -or any tickets for that matter- and while I do have a few Redskins shirts (and one official jersey bought by my wife), I'm not inclined to drop hundreds of dollars buying team-emblazoned paraphernalia just to show the world that I'm a "true fan". Bullshit! If you stop and think about it, all these "professional" football players are making MILLIONS of dollars for PLAYING A GAME each week... and here's the kicker... It doesn't frickin' matter how well or how bad they play... THEY STILL GET PAID!! That's like me going into work and screwing things up for 16 weeks straight and still getting my paycheck... NOT GONNA HAPPEN (unless you're a Gov't employee, of course... or a teacher... they have some freaky sorta tenure thing going on)
But back to football. I like it. If nothing more, it's an excuse to drink beer, eat unhealthy food, and play armchair quarterback for an hour or two. And there's only two teams that I absolutely positively can't stand... The Dallas Cowboys and The Baltimore Ravens. Hate 'em, hate 'em hate 'em. I'm not even sure why... must be some subconscious thing based on past experiences with Dallas and Baltimore fans...
I can't stand the fact that they call Dallas "America's Team" - Fhat the Wuck!? America's Team?@! How do you get that?! The nation's capital is WASHINGTON, D.C., so it's only logical that "America's Team" should be the WASHINGTON REDSKINS. Enough Said.
And now on to the Baltimoron Ravens. Unfortunately for me, I live in Arnold (near Annapolis) Maryland and I work in Howard County... Ravens' Country. It's downright depressing seeing all the purple jerseys and idiots parading around with their Ravens flags hanging out their car windows, flapping in the breeze. COME ON NOW! Give me a break! A few years ago Baltimore didn't HAVE an NFL team! Who were all those morons rooting for then? Huh? I'll tell you... they were REDSKINS fans, dammit! And then, all of a sudden, the Browns get relocated to Baltimore because some Billionaire owner (Model) wasn't making enough money in Cleveland. Of course, Cleveland sued for the "Browns" name, so Baltimore had to come up with a new name for the team. The morons -er- people voted and they all decided on "The Baltimore Ravens" - OK, so I wasn't that miffed about the name... after all, it was a sort of homage to Mr. Edgar Allen Poe (his story "The Raven") one of Baltimore's more well-known historical residents. But then, they go through the process of coming up with a logo to match the name and they (the same fine citizens who voted for "The Ravens") come up with the CHEESIEST logo(s) for the new team. That's when I lost interest and went back to watching my Redskins screw up every week.
Yeah, it gets worse too... A few years in and this new team wins the Superbowl and, of course, all of Baltimore goes nuts. Ah yeah, now you get to see the real (scary) fans on display.
Well, in fairness, I guess every team has them. The Redskins have the Hog-ettes and the freaks dressed like indian chiefs... Green Bay has their Cheese Heads... Still, I loath the Baltimore Ravens and even though the Redskins sucked better than an Electrolux vacuum cleaner this year, there's still hope for me... Pittsburgh (did I mention I like the Steelers?!) is playing Baltimore THIS SUNDAY and OH! will I be a happy camper on Tuesday if they beat the snot out of 'em. AND! It gets better!! The Philly Eagles are in the race too! They play the Arizona Cardinals on Sunday too! So I have two possible scenarios that could make my year... either Pittsburgh pummels the Ravens or the Eagles make the Superbowl against the Ravens and kick the stuffing out of them.
So I'll be watching tomorrow... Go Pitt! Go Philly!
But back to football. I like it. If nothing more, it's an excuse to drink beer, eat unhealthy food, and play armchair quarterback for an hour or two. And there's only two teams that I absolutely positively can't stand... The Dallas Cowboys and The Baltimore Ravens. Hate 'em, hate 'em hate 'em. I'm not even sure why... must be some subconscious thing based on past experiences with Dallas and Baltimore fans...
I can't stand the fact that they call Dallas "America's Team" - Fhat the Wuck!? America's Team?@! How do you get that?! The nation's capital is WASHINGTON, D.C., so it's only logical that "America's Team" should be the WASHINGTON REDSKINS. Enough Said.
And now on to the Baltimoron Ravens. Unfortunately for me, I live in Arnold (near Annapolis) Maryland and I work in Howard County... Ravens' Country. It's downright depressing seeing all the purple jerseys and idiots parading around with their Ravens flags hanging out their car windows, flapping in the breeze. COME ON NOW! Give me a break! A few years ago Baltimore didn't HAVE an NFL team! Who were all those morons rooting for then? Huh? I'll tell you... they were REDSKINS fans, dammit! And then, all of a sudden, the Browns get relocated to Baltimore because some Billionaire owner (Model) wasn't making enough money in Cleveland. Of course, Cleveland sued for the "Browns" name, so Baltimore had to come up with a new name for the team. The morons -er- people voted and they all decided on "The Baltimore Ravens" - OK, so I wasn't that miffed about the name... after all, it was a sort of homage to Mr. Edgar Allen Poe (his story "The Raven") one of Baltimore's more well-known historical residents. But then, they go through the process of coming up with a logo to match the name and they (the same fine citizens who voted for "The Ravens") come up with the CHEESIEST logo(s) for the new team. That's when I lost interest and went back to watching my Redskins screw up every week.
Yeah, it gets worse too... A few years in and this new team wins the Superbowl and, of course, all of Baltimore goes nuts. Ah yeah, now you get to see the real (scary) fans on display.
Well, in fairness, I guess every team has them. The Redskins have the Hog-ettes and the freaks dressed like indian chiefs... Green Bay has their Cheese Heads... Still, I loath the Baltimore Ravens and even though the Redskins sucked better than an Electrolux vacuum cleaner this year, there's still hope for me... Pittsburgh (did I mention I like the Steelers?!) is playing Baltimore THIS SUNDAY and OH! will I be a happy camper on Tuesday if they beat the snot out of 'em. AND! It gets better!! The Philly Eagles are in the race too! They play the Arizona Cardinals on Sunday too! So I have two possible scenarios that could make my year... either Pittsburgh pummels the Ravens or the Eagles make the Superbowl against the Ravens and kick the stuffing out of them.
So I'll be watching tomorrow... Go Pitt! Go Philly!
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Forget Me Not
So Mom has Alzheimer's or dementia. Alzheimer's is a form of dementia but the only way to conclusively diagnose whether it's Alzheimer's or not is to slice open the brain postmortem and examine it. Nice, huh?
I lost my dad to a massive heart attack when I was two. And I lost my brother, Kenny, to Leukemia when I was five (he was 24 when he died). Heart attack, cancer, leukemia... all horrible ways to lose a loved one. But in my experience, nothing can hold a candle to Alzheimer's. It's a real bastard when it comes to terminal illnesses. You can lose an arm, a leg, your hearing, or your sight and still be a normally functioning member of society. But once you start losing your memory -your mind- you pretty much blow away your whole normal life and the lives of those around you. You become confused and frustrated because everyone around you doesn't understand or believe you. And guess what... everyone around you becomes confused and frustrated because you don't understand or believe them. And then there's everyone else on the periphery... social services, department of aging, etc. - all of these folks don't quite know who to believe. Is this an old lady being taken advantage of by her greedy son or is this a son trying to help his stubborn demented mom? Man, let me tell ya, it was a rough eight months from the time when my wife and I noticed there was something SERIOUSLY wrong with my mom and the moment we actually got someone who mattered to BELIEVE us.
And that was just the first hurdle. Then we had to figure out what to do... how to take care of this person who refused to be taken care of... who insisted she was fine to take care of herself.
And then after all that was taken care of (it all kinda fell into place), we settled in for the long haul; knowing full well that the light at the end of the tunnel wasn't daylight but rather a speeding freight train headed full-on in your direction. Nothing compares to the day that you walk in to see your mom and she doesn't know who you are. And then you remind her and then there's this awkward silence; her thinking "how could I not know that" and you thinking "we're just gonna play this off so she doesn't feel bad."
So how do you deal with your mom -the gal that was your best friend for so many years- suddenly forgetting who the hell you are? I don't know. It just happened to me, matter of fact. So I guess I'll have to get back to you on that.
But I'll leave you with a bright thought... the good thing about Alzheimer's... is... You meet someone new every day!! (ba-dump-bump!)
I lost my dad to a massive heart attack when I was two. And I lost my brother, Kenny, to Leukemia when I was five (he was 24 when he died). Heart attack, cancer, leukemia... all horrible ways to lose a loved one. But in my experience, nothing can hold a candle to Alzheimer's. It's a real bastard when it comes to terminal illnesses. You can lose an arm, a leg, your hearing, or your sight and still be a normally functioning member of society. But once you start losing your memory -your mind- you pretty much blow away your whole normal life and the lives of those around you. You become confused and frustrated because everyone around you doesn't understand or believe you. And guess what... everyone around you becomes confused and frustrated because you don't understand or believe them. And then there's everyone else on the periphery... social services, department of aging, etc. - all of these folks don't quite know who to believe. Is this an old lady being taken advantage of by her greedy son or is this a son trying to help his stubborn demented mom? Man, let me tell ya, it was a rough eight months from the time when my wife and I noticed there was something SERIOUSLY wrong with my mom and the moment we actually got someone who mattered to BELIEVE us.
And that was just the first hurdle. Then we had to figure out what to do... how to take care of this person who refused to be taken care of... who insisted she was fine to take care of herself.
And then after all that was taken care of (it all kinda fell into place), we settled in for the long haul; knowing full well that the light at the end of the tunnel wasn't daylight but rather a speeding freight train headed full-on in your direction. Nothing compares to the day that you walk in to see your mom and she doesn't know who you are. And then you remind her and then there's this awkward silence; her thinking "how could I not know that" and you thinking "we're just gonna play this off so she doesn't feel bad."
So how do you deal with your mom -the gal that was your best friend for so many years- suddenly forgetting who the hell you are? I don't know. It just happened to me, matter of fact. So I guess I'll have to get back to you on that.
But I'll leave you with a bright thought... the good thing about Alzheimer's... is... You meet someone new every day!! (ba-dump-bump!)
Monday, January 5, 2009
This is no time for parties...
Can I vent? I really must before I come apart at the seams.
I'm just SO fed up with hearing about partisan politics. It's the Democrats against the Republicans or the Republicans against the Democrats. Nothing gets done. It's just a giant pissing contest in D.C. Doesn't matter if have a good idea, if you're a Democrat you can rest assured most of the Republicans will be against it. And if you have a bad idea... well hey, as long as you're in the majority party and can throw enough weight around, your idea will get by.
Hate to break it to you, but we got a bunch of 5-year-olds trying to run the country. Any wonder why we're in such dire straits?!
I say do away with the whole idea of political parties. Elect people based on their record, their convictions, their experience, their moral character. Why does it always come down to having only TWO choices for president -those of the major parties. That's B.S.!! Why the hell does a person have to spend FIFTY MILLION DOLLARS to run for a job that only pays $250K/yr.?!? Does that make ANY sense whatsoever?!
We're being hoodwinked and we're too fat and lazy to care. Too detatched to get involved. Shame on us. Shame on me. God Bless the U.S.A.
I'm just SO fed up with hearing about partisan politics. It's the Democrats against the Republicans or the Republicans against the Democrats. Nothing gets done. It's just a giant pissing contest in D.C. Doesn't matter if have a good idea, if you're a Democrat you can rest assured most of the Republicans will be against it. And if you have a bad idea... well hey, as long as you're in the majority party and can throw enough weight around, your idea will get by.
Hate to break it to you, but we got a bunch of 5-year-olds trying to run the country. Any wonder why we're in such dire straits?!
I say do away with the whole idea of political parties. Elect people based on their record, their convictions, their experience, their moral character. Why does it always come down to having only TWO choices for president -those of the major parties. That's B.S.!! Why the hell does a person have to spend FIFTY MILLION DOLLARS to run for a job that only pays $250K/yr.?!? Does that make ANY sense whatsoever?!
We're being hoodwinked and we're too fat and lazy to care. Too detatched to get involved. Shame on us. Shame on me. God Bless the U.S.A.
Friday, January 2, 2009
Music Can Change the World
Music can change the world. Think about that for a moment. Music can change the world. It was the saying printed on a nice framed artwork that my wife got me for Christmas. It was a profound statement to me when I read it even though I knew it to be a fact for many, many years. There was just something about reading it and then letting it sink in. It was as if some secret of the universe had been revealed to me.
If you're like me, there are certain songs that define certain moments in your life. The soundtrack to your life. Hearing any one of these 'soundtrack' songs can instantly transport you back to a specific moment in time and you're able to feel what you felt and see what you saw and relive the moment. It's a magical thing. So, while we can go around in circles arguing about whether a particular song actually changed the world, you can't tell me that the songs in my world haven't made a profound difference in my life.
Sometime this year I will release my sophmore effort CD. I think the songs on this CD are very well-written, well crafted songs. So I'm hoping that my music will change the world -at least my immediate world- in 2009.
Here's to a 2009 filled with love, hope, and peace... and world-changing music.
If you're like me, there are certain songs that define certain moments in your life. The soundtrack to your life. Hearing any one of these 'soundtrack' songs can instantly transport you back to a specific moment in time and you're able to feel what you felt and see what you saw and relive the moment. It's a magical thing. So, while we can go around in circles arguing about whether a particular song actually changed the world, you can't tell me that the songs in my world haven't made a profound difference in my life.
Sometime this year I will release my sophmore effort CD. I think the songs on this CD are very well-written, well crafted songs. So I'm hoping that my music will change the world -at least my immediate world- in 2009.
Here's to a 2009 filled with love, hope, and peace... and world-changing music.
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