Crab Soup for the Soul

You Get What You Pay For

2011-08-10T08:02:00.000-07:00

There are two morals to the story I’m about to tell. The first is: You get what you pay for. The second: All-Inclusive isn’t.

Our family recently had the opportunity to take a one week vacation in Cancun, Mexico and stay at a so-called “All-Inclusive” resort. I was lucky enough to get four round-trip tickets (stand-by) to anywhere JetBlue flies in a barter exchange for DJing their holiday party. Those tickets saved us over $3K in airline tickets for our family of four. On top of that we found a great deal through Costco Travel where we could spend five nights and six days at an All-Inclusive Resort in Cancun for around $1K. Wow. What a deal, right? We were all excited since this would be our first official family vacation.

Flying stand-by was a little hairy. You’re the last to get on the plane and that only happens if there’s enough unsold available seats. Our friend at JetBlue was a big help and was able to check our flights and keep us posted on how the odds were looking for us. We flew from Dulles to Orlando and then Orlando to Cancun. In Orlando it was looking like we weren’t going to make the flight. Only three seats available. Lucky for us, a passenger holding a paid ticket never showed up, freeing up a fourth seat for us on the plane. We all breathed a sigh of relief. The flight was smooth and, before we knew it we were in Mexico. The lines for Customs and Immigration were horrible. It must’ve taken us about 90 minutes to get all that taken care of

Almost immediately after clearing Customs and getting our luggage, my family and I were bombarded with fast-talking hustlers out to glean from us some of our hard-earned American money. Everyone was so friendly, but you always had to keep your guard up. It was hard to tell whether folks were being genuinely nice and helpful or whether they had an ulterior motive to sell you something. I had already prepared myself for this type of 'hospitality' (I'd been to Tijuana once for a couple hours) but I really had no clue who was genuine and who was scamming me.

It started at the airport when this official-look guy in a nice white shirt and a name tag offered us help and direction on locating our complimentary hotel transportation. He pulled out a map and showed us where our hotel was located, gave us a brief rundown on the exchange rate of pesos to dollars, and even pointed out some of the wonder parks and tours available. And that's where the pitch came in. Turns out this guy worked for a competing hotel and, if we'd just agree to go there and take a tour (where they'd inevitably try to get us to buy into a vacation club) we'd get deeply discounted tickets for select attractions in Cancun. We politely declined but it still took a couple of firm No-thank-yous to part company with this guy.

We made our way outside of the airport, declining numerous ambitious offers from taxi drivers to take us to our hotel. Once we found our hotel transport (Best Day Travel), we sort of breathed a little sigh of relief. After a short wait, a Best Day Shuttle bus pulled up, a very courteous driver assisted us with our baggage, we climbed aboard and we were on our way to the hotel. I give high marks to the Best Day Travel representatives, by the way.

My wife was shocked at how fast our driver made the trip from airport to hotel. Folks definitely drive fast and aggressively in Cancun. I'm glad we weren't driving a rental car. We would've been a nervous wreck. Despite the break-neck speed of our transportation, we still got the chance to see some of the stunning beauty of Cancun -most notably, the white beaches and crystal blue/green water.

We had reservations at the Crown Club Paradise Hotel and, as we pulled up the driveway we could see how immense this place was. Two convex multi-tiered buildings made a kind of circle. Inside this circle was the main swimming pools and the main dining facility, La Palapa. The hotel had kind of an open floor plan on the main lobby level where you checked in. A cool breeze swept in from the beach area, through the courtyard (for lack of a better term) and right up into the main lobby. A lot of thought and design had obviously gone into the construction of this hotel. Our initial impression was two thumbs up -especially after we were greeted by mimosas as we stood in line to check in at the front desk (the kids got Shirley Temples served to them).

Our initial grand first impressions were quickly dashed as we stepped into our room and discovered it was rather warm in there. I couldn't be sure right off the bat whether that was due to the A/C being turned off or just plain broken. The latter turned out to be the case. I tried, in vain, to dial in a cooler temperature on the thermostat on the wall. When we finally inquired at the front desk, they admitted that they were having problems with the A/C and they were working to correct the problem.

Since we arrived at the hotel in the late afternoon, our hotel representative, Annie, informed us we'd be unable to make reservations at any of the 'exclusive' restaurants. However, the main dining facility - La Palapa - was available for our dining -ahem- pleasure. Now since we're talking food at this point, let's just dive into the whole topic and get it out of the way.

The food at Crown Club Paradise is 'OK' if you're talking strictly about La Palapa and the poolside tiki bar that serves hamburgers, hotdogs, and wings in the afternoons. The most accurate description of La Palapa is it's a dining hall or cafeteria. It has four or five different 'food stations' in addition to a salad & fresh fruit selection that is well-stocked with fresh selections. All the food there is of decent quality -nothing phenomenal- and all the selections seem to lean towards the Mexican cuisine side of the house which was OK with me since I like that kind of food. But the hotel's website and brochure go to great lengths to call attention to their "fine dining" options. Check it out for yourself: http://www.crownparadise.com/cancun/restaurants/index.cfm - Now, after reading about the fine Mexican, French, Italian, Japanese, seafood, and Steak restaurants available, it'd be hard not to get a little excited about the food choices. We certainly were. The problem is, it's really all the same food being served in the La Palapa cafeteria. It's just dressed up and presented a little differently.

We found this deception out the hard way by making reservations at the Italian restaurant our second night there. We were expecting some fine, expertly prepared Italian food. We got a failing attempt at a steak and calamari. This food wasn't even on par with Olive Garden back home. And I was looking forward to maybe a nice Italian wine or perhaps even an Italian beer. Nope. Same beer and wine choices that were available in the main hotel bar. Are you ready for this? If you wanted a beer at this hotel, you got a draft Corona -period. You had no other choice in beer except draft Corona. Now, on my list of preferred beers, Corona sits right at the bottom. There are at least a half dozen other Mexican beers to which I give high marks: Modelo, Dos Equis, Sol, Bohemia, Tecate... (you get the picture)- Corona is NOT one of them. And may I also point out that most of these beers are equivalent in price to Corona. I just couldn't understand why an all-inclusive resort would offer only ONE kind of beer. ONE! The disappointment didn't stop there. They only offered ONE red and ONE white wine selection; a Chilean variety. The white was OK, but we didn't like the red -and since we much prefer red wine to white wine, it was yet another disappointment.

This whole fine dining scheme really pissed me off. Especially since they made you go through the trouble of making reservations for these restaurants in the morning and some had a two-day wait list. Utter bullpucky! We decided after our Italian debacle to save ourselves some frustration and time and stick to La Palapa for dinner.

Now, the other food choice I was excited about was the Sushi! Ah, I loves me some good sushi! The hotel sushi was served in a little non-air-conditioned building; half of which was devoted to fried selections like shrimp, squid, chicken, and fried rice. I swear I lost 10 pounds in water weight from standing in line, sweating, waiting for my turn to order. Once you get to the counter, you are limited to two sushi selections (you can jump back in line as many times as you'd like -until you completely evaporate). It wasn't bad, but it wasn't worth waiting in line for. One trip through was enough for me. Another let-down. I really can't comment on any of the other restaurants because, like I said, we figured out early on that this whole idea of "different restaurants serving different cuisines" was a big charade. We felt cheated and suckered.

I really don't think I would've been so irked about the whole food situation if the hotel had just been truthful and clear from the get-go. I'm a firm believer in the saying "You Get What You Pay For" -and we certainly did get what we paid for; perhaps even more than we paid for. BUT- I was expecting to get what was advertised and we didn't -that was all a big fat deception. That's what made us mad. My wife and I are self-professed (admitted) "Foodies" -we love to cook and we love to try new things. Along with that, we're quick to criticize what we consider sub-standard and sometimes horrible food and service. I encourage you to keep that in mind when reading this.

OK, let's get off the whole subject of food. It's making me hungry and angry at the same time!

One more major inconvenience on our first day: the towel situation. The hotel give you towel cards when you check in. You take the towel card to the towel both by the main pool and, in exchange, you get a freshly laundered beach towel to use. Likewise, you can trade in a wet, dirty towel for a fresh one at any time -or get your towel card back (which you need to check out). If you lose a towel or a card, it's $35. So, our first day there, after checking in and basking in the warmth of our hotel room, we decided it was time for a swim. Only problem was there were no fresh towels for us to trade for our towel cards. That situation continued for an hour. Now that's just plain annoying. Enough said.

Now let's talk about the staff at this hotel. Two words: Top Notch. Really. What, you were expecting more complaining? Nope. No complaints -only high marks. The highest of which go to the gals in charge of Kid's Club. These ladies worked from 8:45am to 4:45pm at the main kids pool/water park. You could drop off your kids in the morning and not see them again till that evening. They even took the kids to lunch at La Palapa for you. Then, at 7pm, you could drop your kids back off for evening activities until 9pm. The entire staff was great with children and really took a proactive role in keeping the kids entertained and busy. The kids' waterpark alone was awesome... three different pool areas with waterfalls, slides, and squirting thingees all over the place. In addition to that, they had a little basketball court and a shaded activities area with tables and chairs. Our kids had a blast. I couldn't imagine any place doing a better job in this department. We were thoroughly impressed.

And the rest of the staff was attentive and friendly whether you're talking about the maids, the bus-boy/servers in La Palapa, the bartenders, or the waitresses. The only time I questioned the genuineness of this niceness was when dealing with the hotel guest services staff. They were super friendly when we first checked in because they wanted us to agree to their 90-minute tour/sales pitch to buy into their Gold Vacation Club. We agreed to the tour because we wanted the free 500 pesos ($45) they were offering. It was also a good opportunity to tell them exactly why we'd NEVER even consider buying into such a package based on our experiences with the room, food, and drinks. So, after we shot down any hopes they had of us joining the Gold Club, and we got our goodies and free pesos, the friendly level of the guest services folks was ratcheted down quite a few notches. OK by us. They were still helpful and responsive when we need them.

A lot of the staff pulled double duty. Some were busy during the day running activities (bingo, dance contests, etc.) by the pool, others in charge of kids club. Then at night they'd come together and put on Broadway-type shows in the run-down theater. We were shocked and pleasantly surprised at how great these people were at dancing, singing, and acting! The shows were one of the highlights of our vacation. We saw a tradition Mexican Folklore show, a Grease show, and a Circus-type show complete with performing poodles. They also put on a Michael Jackson tribute show which we missed because of a very tired son.

In short, the staff was definitely this hotel's greatest asset. It made me wonder how underpaid they were. My wife found out that the gals from Kid's Club worked 14-hour days, six days a week. Judging from the extremely attractive low rates they were offering guests (remember, we paid around $1,000 for our family of four for five nights/six days), and the amount of staff they had (a lot!), it's hard to imagine these folks making anywhere near decent salaries. Welcome to Mexico, I guess.

Now, allow me to complain some more. I do it well, don't I!? Let's talk about the drinking water. Everyone knows you're not supposed to drink the tap water in Mexico unless you want to have all sorts of stomach and intestinal maladies. This can be solved by drinking bottled water. Yes, bottled water, one of the numerous things NOT included in the "ALL-INCLUSIVE" resort. If you wanted a bottled water you had two options: either pay $5 for one or order it from room service. We quickly caught on and were ordering 6 to 8 bottles of water every night from room service. Yes, we had room service! But it took at least an hour from the time you called to receive your order and the room service menu wasn't all that impressive -and neither was the food that arrived. You get what you pay for.

And sometimes you get less than you pay for. Take our little hotel-sponsored excursion to Señor Frogs (a chain restaurant/bar with locations throughout Mexico as well as Aruba, Bahamas, Puerto Rico, and even Myrtle Beach! -they also have their own clothing line). Now the deal was the hotel would spring for transportation to the joint and dinner for you and your family (a choice of 4 menu items) and all you had to do was pay for your own drinks and transportation back to the hotel. Splendid! My wife and I had the chicken fajitas and the kids settled on corn dogs and chicken fingers. The food was good. For drinks we decided to get the plastic souvenir "Yard" cups filled with virgin piña coladas for the kids and tasty Dos Equis Beer for us! We were having a great time until the check came. 500 Pesos - $45 for 2 virgin piña coladas and 2 large draft Dos Equis beers. After a screwing like that, I would've hoped for a few kisses and hugs from the staff. We left in utter disbelief, again feeling majorly duped.

Needless to say, my whole definition of "all-inclusive" has changed. I'm certain that it all depends where you go too. I've heard some people say nice things about the Sandals All-Inclusive Resorts -perhaps we'll give that a shot next time. We won't be returning the Crown Club Paradise any time soon. And not because our overall stay was that horrible; it's the deceptiveness of their brochures and website and what they advertise compared to what you actually get. That's what really left a bitter taste in our mouths. If we could've gone into the whole deal with all the cards on the table, I think our overall attitude would have been better. Instead, we just felt like we'd been suckered the whole time we were there. Was it worth the money we paid? Yes. I'd have to say it was. Just do the math. A family of four stays for six days/five nights in an 'OK' hotel where they have access to 'OK' food and even alcoholic beverages (even though the selection sucked) pretty much any time of the day. Their kids get to play all day in an adult supervised area with plenty to do. They enjoy great (but HOT) weather and stunning beach and ocean views and even get to take in some entertaining live shows free of charge. All that for around $1000. Yeah, it was worth it. That's like $50 a day per person. Not bad. BUT- had I paid an additional $3K+ for the airline tickets, I think I'd have a different opinion. I didn't though, so I can't complain. Much.

From a scenic perspective, Cancun -the island tourist zone, not downtown- is beautiful with plenty to do and see. But for my wife and I, the whole place was just too touristy. It was a tourist trap. There was very little true cultural things to take in. It was like being in Ocean City with better views. And everyone who lived there seemed focused on getting as much of our tourist money as possible. You want your picture taken with my donkey or my parrot? Pay up, gringo! You wanna swim with the dolphins? $100 por favor. How about taking a tour of ancient Mayan ruins? Cha-ching! Get your wallet out! It was just all too cheesy for me. Cheaply made "authentic" souvenirs were everywhere you looked and vendors would start out high and haggle with you to get the best price they could. Now, I know some enjoy that type of bargaining. I don't. Gimme a decent price, I'll pay it; no haggling necessary. But in Mexico, you just don't know what a fair price is. You always have your guard up because there's 50 Mexicans trying to swindle you while giving you a sincere smile. It was stressful for me. Not at all enjoyable. And no matter where you went, you'd run into these people. In short, don't go to Cancun expecting to gain any sort of appreciation or understanding of Mexican culture or ecology. The highlights of our trip were some chance encounters with some local iguanas and a rare opportunity to see a 300-pound mama sea turtle digging a large hole in the sand to bury her eggs in the dead of night (truly awesome!). Both of those cost us absolutely nothing but were valuable memories for us and our children. Oh, and Cancun is teaming with these birds called Great Tailed Grackles (the locals incorrectly refer to them as "Cuervos"). They were all around the courtyard/common areas of the hotel. The black males are quite large (crow-sized) while the brown females are smaller and have almost-neon yellow eyes. They make several distinctive screech-like noises -one sounds like a dolphin squeal- and they are bold and intelligent when it comes to snatching french fries, chips, and other food items off the plates of distracted guests. I'm not an avid bird watcher but I did enjoy watching these birds maneuver around and scavenge for food. One of the hotel staff told a story about how these birds would steal chunks of bread and drop them in the water to lure fish to the surface. They'd then grab the fish and eat them. That's pretty crafty for a bird. I saw one take a hard piece of bread and dip it in a water fountain to soften it up before proceeding to eat it. Pretty smart, if you ask me.

Lastly let me say I'm not a lay-by-the-pool type of guy. I enjoy a dip in the pool every now and then, but I don't consider laying on the beach or by the pool all afternoon/day that much fun. In fact, it bores me. So for me to go on a vacation featuring seven swimming pools and endless beaches was a bit of a stretch -and I certainly realized that before going. If you like that sort of sun and water worship stuff, Cancun is a great place to do it and the Crown Club Paradise Hotel is an affordable place for you to check out if you're not looking for gourmet food and premium drink selections. It's even more attractive if you have young kids that you want to keep occupied while you and the spouse just relax. For us, we were just expecting more and that's because the hotel does such a great (but deceptive) job of marketing. I think if I had more realistic expectations going in, I wouldn't have been so annoyed at a lot of the stuff. While a small portion of the blame falls on me for being so naive, I still think the hotel is blatantly running a false advertising campaign and if I had more free time and motivation to take my complaints higher, I would.

I do feel better though laying this all out in a blog for others to read. I hope it helps those who may be considering an "all-inclusive" vacation and I also welcome others who have been on such vacations to share your experiences. It may help us plan a future vacation!

It's Not the End of the World...

2011-05-25T08:39:00.000-07:00

To all those followers of Mr. Camping who sold all their worldly possessions, cashed in their retirement accounts to rent billboard space, and devoted the last few months to traveling around the United States to warn of the imminent second coming of Christ -only to realize last Saturday that their dear Mr. Camping was, uh, mistaken... to you poor misguided fools I give my sincerest best wishes for the future. You're obviously gonna need plenty of well wishes and luck to make up for the stunning deficiency of common sense with which you've been afflicted.

From a purely Biblical standpoint, Matthew 24:36 clearly states (depending on your version of the Bible) "But of that day and hour knoweth no [man], no, not the angels of heaven, but my Father only."

Yeah, you can't get much clearer than that. To in any way buy into the notion that some loony 89 year old self-professed Holy man with a civil engineering degree has the inside scoop on the second coming of Christ is pretty ridiculous. Even more so when you take into consideration that ol' Harold's been wrong TWICE before!

And herein lies my biggest problem with any form of organized religion. I don't care if we're talking about the Roman Catholic Church or the Westboro Baptist Church, these 'organizations' tend to rally around one central figure and take all their cues from that one person. For the Catholics it's the Pope, for the Westboro idiots, it's some guy named Fred Phelps, and for all the rapture retards, its Mr. Harold Camping. Somehow, magically, when you organize a couple people into a 'religious group' they're suddenly better and holier than everyone else and they gain all sorts of special powers, abilities, and insight into what God is thinking. In the process of such enlightenment, those fools relinquish of any and all common sense in exchange for a firm belief and adherence to anything their dear leader tells them. It's sad and it's pitiful that there are so many people in this world that are unable to think and do for themselves and fall to religion as a crutch and compass.

I take no issue with believing in God or a higher power. Please, by all means, believe what you believe! But, please, make sure your beliefs are YOUR OWN and not those of someone else who claims to be closer to God or that higher power than you are. Don't let anyone with a title or a large congregation or following try to tell you what to do. It doesn't take a genius to figure out the difference between wrong and right; good and evil. I have a hard time believing there are any hard and fast rules that you must follow in order to get to heaven or the next happy level of the afterlife. I think it can be whittled down to simply doing all you can to help your fellow man and try your best to leave this world in a better condition than when you entered it. Approach all things with love and understanding and there's not much chance of you doing the wrong thing. And whether it's God or Allah or Thor you believe in, you gotta expect that this deity is giving us all a little room for error and expecting us to screw up sometimes. It's in our nature. But I believe when you die, you'll stand before God or whatever higher power you believe in and be judged on your own merits. In other words what you did with the life you were given. If you spent it stealing, lying, cheating, and killing you can't logically expect much of a break in the afterlife. But if you led a good life, tried to be truthful and honest and helped make the world a better place I really don't think you have anything to worry about. Maybe I'm wrong, but it makes a whole lot more sense to me than the majority of the nonsensical rules and regulations put forth by the majority of the organized religions out there.

Quite frankly, I don't want a heads up when the world is about to end. But if it happens in my lifetime, I'm not going to lose any sleep worrying about. I'm confident that whatever the afterlife holds, I've scored enough atta-boys to enjoy it.

Father & Son

2011-05-09T06:55:00.000-07:00

One of the greatest parts about having kids is getting to do things with them that you never got to do as a kid. My dad died when I was 2 years old, so I missed out on all those father-son experiences. My mom did an awesome job of being there for me, but I always wondered what it would've been like to have a male role-model in my life during those early, pre-teen years. I pretty much did all the same things that other boys did, but I had to do them without dad by my side. You can't really miss what you never had, but there were a few times I was jealous of other kids having a dad to do stuff with. Like tossing a football or playing catch or even mowing the grass.

This past weekend I got the opportunity to camp with my son; just me and him -along with his Cub Scout group. It was the first time for him sleeping in a tent and really "roughing it" and it was the first time in a long time for me getting that close to nature.

Sometimes you have to "get away from it all" to really be able to take a breath, step back, and gain a clearer perspective on life. That's what I got to do this weekend. I saw my son as a smart, witty (wonder where he gets that from?), resourceful young man of 8 years; not just my little boy.

Lucas spent the majority of the weekend in non-stop play with all his Cub Scout buddies but there were some really nice me-and-him moments where we got to chat and just share each other's company. So now I get more of a feeling of what I missed by not having my dad around and I feel proud to able able to spend that kind of time with my son. I hope it's something that he'll always be able to look back on fondly; but even if he doesn't, I certainly will.

What Victory?!

2011-05-03T12:34:00.000-07:00

I want to know what half-witted moron came up with this STUPID Facebook post that seems to be appearing everywhere the last day or two. It reads as follows:

"Let's be clear on this: OBAMA did NOT kill Bin Laden. An American Military Service Member, who Obama just a few weeks ago was debating on whether or not to PAY, did. Obama just happened to be the one in office when our soldiers finally found OBL and took him out. This is NOT an Obama victory, but an AMERICAN victory!! REPOST IF YOU AGREE!!!"

Now before I tear this utterly ridiculous piece-of-crap statement apart using nothing more than logic, let me go on record as saying I'm a proud supporter of our military and a veteran myself.

Now, let's get started, shall we?

First off, who in their right mind would ever come to the conclusion that President Obama can or would claim sole credit for the killing of Osama Bin Laden? He never made that claim. How could he? Anyone with even a half ounce of gray matter in their head has to come to the conclusion that this operation was a team effort and this team was HUGE... players we don't even know about and never will.

Next, identifying President Obama as the one person who was debating whether or not to pay our service men and women during the budget dilemma is just senseless on so many levels. The blame for budget problems and the resulting threat of a Government shutdown can be placed equally among all members of Congress -both Republicans and Democrats- as well as the president and his administration. I guess I'm the only one who can clearly see we're being governed by a bunch of incompetent,childish, greedy bureaucrats. The only way to fix that is to clear them all out, revise the constitution and update the way our Government is run. Nobody gets that and I don't understand why.

The other thing I don't understand is how folks immediately started arguing over who should get the credit for killing Osama Bin Laden. Sorry guys, that should be the LEAST of your worries. My immediate reaction was "Wow! We got him!" followed very quickly by "Uh-oh, now what?!". While everyone's running around celebrating the "victory", you can be assured that Al Qaida is planning a response -on a grand level. They need to show that the death of Bin Laden does not spell the death of Al Qaida. Osama Bin Laden was a crazy sinister guy but he was also smart -and always surrounded by smart people. Why do you think it took us -with all our military and Intelligence resources- nearly TEN years to catch the dude?! Don't you think Osama saw the day coming when he would be found and killed? Don't you think he and all of Al Qaida already planned what to do when it did happen?

Remember this kiddies, killing doesn't bring about peace, it brings about more killing. The only exception to this rule would have to be the nuking of Japan during WWII, but that was a unique situation in an era where our enemies where contained within strict borders and victory wasn't based on the idea of annihilating an entire religious population like Al Qaida wants to do.

Am I happy Osama Bin Laden is dead? Hell yeah! It is indeed a small moral victory for all Americans who witnessed the events of 9/11 first-hand. We humans are programmed with a need for revenge (we call it justice, but let's not split hairs here) so to hear that the guy who was behind the entire plot -as well as hundreds of other terrorist operations in the last decade- was finally killed by American operatives gave most of us -me included- a small sense of closure and satisfaction; but if you think this is somehow going to kill the entire Al Qaida organization, you're sadly mistaken. We should all be looking over our shoulder because Al Qaida will answer this in a big way. They'll be around long after all the Republican and Democratic finger-pointers have turned blue in the face trying to lay blame or take credit for Bin Laden's death.

C'mon. Give the president credit where credit is due: he had the balls to say "go ahead and do it, boys!" -a hundred things could've gone wrong with this operation; the biggest being that Osama Bin Laden wasn't even there! And while we're handing out pats on the back, let's give one to the previous Bush administration. W and his boys started all this forward progress -despite more than a few innocent people being waterboarded- so the Obama administration had a good headstart from the get-go. But neither president nor their administrations get to claim credit for this. Neither have tried. But yet some MORON came up with that STUPID Facebook post and a bunch of people jumped on board. It was -no doubt- put out there by some Republican dipshit who's all worried now that the killing of Osama Bin Laden will guarantee Mr. Obama another term as president. I am neither Republican nor Democrat and I'm not particularly worried about who wins the presidency because NOTHING WILL CHANGE MUCH - it never does! Nothing will change until the ENTIRE Government is reformed. So instead of trying to shift the blame or take the credit of this so-called "AMERICAN victory", I'll be looking over my shoulder for Al Qaida's response.

God Bless Our Military
God Bless Our Country
And God Bless all the Morons that live here and have Facebook accounts.
Too bad Facebook can't come up with some sort of "common sense" filter for posts.

Royal Pain

2011-04-28T14:32:00.000-07:00

Everybody's all abuzz about the royal wedding. Millions of people will be glued to their TV sets watching the whole thing live as it happens. Not me.

I just don't get the whole idea of "royalty" -just like I don't get how this pope guy is any holier or closer to God than I am. Kings, queens, princes, and popes all share one thing in common: they're human beings underneath it all. None of these people have any special powers or abilities above and beyond what the general population possesses. Let's face it; their claim to fame -what sets them apart- is privilege. That's it.

So why do so many people think these people are special? Is it some sort of basic human need to have a couple superhero figures to look up to? If so, can't we all do better with our role models? For hundreds of years, in hundreds of countries, royal families have led the life of luxury while most of the common people around them paid their way while struggling themselves to survive. Why?

Kick all the royals out of their palaces and castles and make them earn a living like everyone else! And stop listening to the pope and the Vatican for your religious guidance and start talking to God more and doing your own work when it comes to learning the Bible!

Nuff said.

There's no "X" in CHRISTMAS!

2010-12-19T09:35:00.000-08:00

It's bad enough that we've managed to almost completely remove the true meaning of Christmas from the holiday, do we also have to change the name of it?!

How the hell did we come up with "XMAS"?! Are we that lazy, inconsiderate, and illiterate as a society that, for the sake of brevity, we completely remove the name of the person for whom the holiday was created? Now I know what you're thinking... but I'm not making this argument perched atop my religious high ground. I haven't been to church in years and I don't go around spewing Bible verses at folks. But I do believe that there once lived a man named Jesus Christ who many millions of people throughout history -and right up to current day- believe is the Son of God. This Jesus Christ dude had such a profound affect on folks that his teachings and stories of his life, death, and resurrection are the foundation of no less than a dozen different religions all over the world including the various denominations associated with Christianity. Even those who didn't believe he was the Son of God (the Jews for one), still don't refute the fact that he existed. He was a real person and his birth is celebrated all over the world during CHRISTMAS - the birth of Christ. Not the birth of "X".

Of course, there are many who will tell you that it's quite likely Christ was not born on December 25th. Fine. But December 25th has been designated as the day we celebrate his birth... the birth of CHRIST.... Christ's Mass... Christmas. There's no X in there, people. Not even close!

Even though Christmas is the biggest, most-celebrated holiday in the United States -and many other parts of the world- there's a sizable portion of the population that doesn't know or truly appreciate the REAL story and meaning behind Christmas. Instead of hearing about Jesus, kids are indoctrinated into the big myth of Santa Claus. A fat magical guy dressed in a red suit who brings you toys if you've been good. Wow. Not that I see anything wrong with Santa, I just think kids ought to also know about the guy for whom the holiday is named. It's not Santa Claus Day, it's CHRISTMAS. Again, no X in there.

Just for the sake of being objective, let's totally eliminate the religious point of view from this discussion. Let's instead approach it from an English language point of view. First of all, the fact is English is a trampled on language. Very few people these days have a firm grasp of the language and they continually bastardize it and misuse it. They get away with it because those of us who know better, don't or can't really do anything about it. This alarms and saddens me beyond words. It makes us (Americans) look stupid, lazy, and uneducated. Every day there are major print and visual media publications using bad English in their ads. Misspellings, mispronunciations, bad grammar, and made-up words. It's embarrassing to me. Really. And we're fooling ourselves if we think other countries and cultures aren't noticing. They are.

So, let's get back to the holiday... XMAS, pronounced as it is written, sounds nothing like "Christmas". Of course, folks will tell you the "X" is short for "Criss" -as in "Criss-Cross"- but even that doesn't hold much water for me. There are established signs for Railroad Crossings were "crossing" is abbreviated "Xing"; so if we apply that same logic to "XMAS", we'd have to pronounce it "CROSSMAS". Doesn't make sense!

You don't have to be an English professor to apply some basic logic to abbreviations. It's stupid. Doesn't make any sense! And why don't we do the same with other holidays if it's just a matter of saving letters and being lazy? Why isn't Valentine's Day just "VDay" or even "Love Day"? Why don't we just say "Happy Thanks Day" instead of spelling out that long word, "Thanksgiving"? Why isn't Halloween just "Boo Day"? Why don't we receive invitations for our nephew's "Xning" instead of spelling out "Christening"? Why? Because they were given those names/titles for a reason; to commemorate or honor someone or something. If you rename it or bastardize the spelling of a holiday, I believe you take something away from its significance. And no example is more prime than CHRISTMAS. Named after Jesus Christ; they guy who launched dozen of religions with millions of faithful followers. You take his name out of the holiday and you lose the significance. Unless, of course, you're like every retailer in the country who believes the significance is in SALES FIGURES.

I can remember the excitement of Christmas as a kid. Yes, I bought into that whole Santa Claus myth, but my mom also made sure I knew the reason behind the season. In addition to hearing "Twas the Night Before Christmas", I also heard the story of Mary and Joseph, the immaculate conception of their son, Jesus, and his birth in a lowly stable. And I heard about the wise men traveling from afar after being told by an angel that a very special person, the Son of God, had been born in the city of Bethlehem. It only added to the magic and awe of the season for me.

That magic fades a little as you get older - at least it has for me. Especially when you figure out there's no actual Santa Claus. But if you have a little faith and optimism, you can still let yourself believe that this Jesus guy was the real deal and everything about his life is true. If only during the holiday season, indulge yourself and maybe grow a little hope and love in your soul. Devout Christians would call it faith, but you can just refer to it as Christmas Spirit. Nothing wrong with that.

You don't have to be a Christian to take part in the magic of Christmas. Use it as a time to get closer to those you love and to go a little farther out of your way to help those less fortunate than you. In the process, you'll realize how lucky/blessed you are to be where you are and have what you have. And even if you're not a Christian, you should still respect the sanctity of the holiday and call it what it is; CHRISTMAS, not XMAS. Spread the word. There's no X in CHRISTMAS!

Best wishes for a happy and blessed holiday season and a very merry CHRISTMAS!

Celebration? Really?

2010-10-01T23:37:00.000-07:00

I was DJing tonight -a fill-in gig after a band had canceled- at Stan & Joe's (quickly becoming my new favorite place) when a girl I knew came in. She was all smiles and with a girlfriend and she came over and gave me a hug and then quickly informed me that they were out celebrating. Yep, the papers were finalized, she was moving ahead with her divorce. High five! Woo Hoo! Um. Really?

I tried my best to be enthusiastic, but it was evident by the look on her face that she could see the sadness in my eyes.

Shit happens. People fall in and out of love every day for every reason under the sun. I kinda think there's a lot of people who get together and get married without ever really falling in love or knowing what being in love is all about. Still, when a long-term relationship ends -when a marriage ends- I can't fathom it being a cause for unbridled celebration.

Woo Hoo! Glad that's over with! Never mind that the last however many years of my life have been altered and marred forever. Never mind that the person I pledged my undying love to is now some repulsive stranger to me that I can't stand to look at. No, forget all that... I'm free now and it's time to celebrate.

I just don't get that.

I'm a victim of a failed marriage myself. Today I can say with all honesty that I'm glad it's over and I'm glad things worked out the way they did. But I can't ever remember a time where I was "celebrating" my failed marriage. I did a lot of crying, a lot of soul searching, a lot of questioning, and -yes- a fair amount of drinking, but I don't ever recall celebrating. While I see now why things were doomed from the start and why it was hopeless to try anymore, I still can't classify my feelings as "happy" the marriage ended. It took me a long time afterward to trust my heart and my feelings again and to even think about loving someone else. It was a tough time.... no parties, no celebrations. We didn't have any kids. That undoubtedly would've made things infinitely more complicated and painful.

This acquaintance of mine did have kids with her now-estranged husband. I guess that was all the more reason to celebrate.

Really, I'm not trying to judge this girl because I'm positive the the whole breakup and separation has been -and will continue to be- hell on her, on him, and on the kids. I just find it odd how we always try to cover up the pain and emotion when it comes to failed relationships. Failed love. It's tough. It's embarrassing. Especially if you're married because that usually means you stood up in front of a bunch of friends and family and pledged your undying love for each other. And now look at you. You can't stand to look at that person anymore. How did it get to that point? That's what I kept asking myself when my marriage failed. And there were many, many more questions I asked. It wasn't a happy time. At all.

I don't really know what my point is in all of this. I guess it's simply to say that it struck me odd to have this girl come up to me all bubbly and giddy -in 'celebration' mode- because her marriage was officially over. I just don't think it's something to celebrate. It's definitely something to think about and ponder. Something to question and something to learn from. I'd even go so far as to say it's something that you should mourn a little.

Love is a very rare and fragile thing and it can't exist without the right mix of admiration, communication, friendship, patience, skepticism, and respect. So when you find it -or think you've found it- it's definitely a reason for celebration. But when you lose it, don't celebrate that. Figure out how it fell apart and make sure it never happens again.

That's all I'm sayin'

Crab Hunter

2010-08-05T05:10:00.000-07:00

I'm from Pennsylvania and it wasn't until I got transplanted down to Maryland -compliments of the U.S. Army- in my early twenties that I learned to appreciate steamed Maryland Blue Crabs. That appreciation quickly progressed into a seasonal love affair with the delectable little darlings. So, for at least fifteen years now I've been indulging every chance I get. The main thing I had to overcome was the fact that picking crabs requires a lot of effort and skill and yields a comparatively small amount of reward for your efforts. But I'm sure any seasoned crab picker will agree that any good crab feast requires lots of crabs as well as lots of good friends and family to share in the fun. Crab picking is a social event; a chance to sit down with friends and family for a few hours and trade stories while your fingers are busy excavating sweet morsels of crab meat from the intricate shell and cartilage crab carcasses. It's definitely not a quick brunch type of meal, but more of an afternoon-long get-together.

For as many crabs as I've eaten, I never had the opportunity to actually go crabbing and catch my meal. We always ordered them steamed from a great little crab joint down the road. But I have a few friends that have gone crabbing on quite a few occasions and I was finally fortunate enough to tag along on one such excursion this past Sunday in Fenwick, Delaware. Friends of ours have beach houses down there and my family is lucky enough to be invited down from time to time for a weekend stay. My friend, Shane, has a brother, Matt, who is quite the crabbing pro and agreed to let me and Shane tag along for a late morning/early afternoon expedition.

NOW, as I understand it, there's two primary ways to catch crabs. The first way is to use a crab "pot" or wire cage filled with bait. The cage is dropped into the water and sits at the bottom waiting for crabs to scurry inside and take the bait. There's usually two entry ways into the cage, but they are one-way entries only; crabs: check in, but they don't check out! After a few hours, the cage is hauled up out of the water and -hopefully- there’s a bunch of big crabs trapped inside waiting for you. The upside to this method of crabbing is, of course, very minimal work for the crabber. You bait your cages, drop your cages, and then come back in a few hours -or the next day- and collect your prizes. The downside to this method is there's a lot of waiting involved before the payoff. And while you're waiting, nothing's stopping an unscrupulous crabber from pulling up your cage and stealing your crabs.

A more hands-on approach to crabbing is through the use of a trotline. A trotline is, quite simply, a long, long piece of rope that has bait attached to it every 24 inches or so and weighted on each end to keep the line resting on the bottom. One of the more popular baits used in trotline crabbing are pieces of chicken neck. They're simply tied snuggly on the line at the desired interval. Then, each end of the line is weighted -we used a length of heavy metal chain and some metal weights- and a buoy is attached (so you can spot the beginning and end of the trotline).

We set out for our trotline crabbing adventure late Sunday morning. According to Matt, conditions were ideal. I know it had something to do with the tides and the wind and the temperature, but don't ask me precisely why conditions were "ideal" - I just know from the pro that they were. We boarded our boat "THE CRABMASTER", which was nothing more than a small four-seater aluminum fishing boat with a small Yamaha motor hung off the back, and set out on our 3-mile journey to "the spot" where hopefully a bunch of big, fat, hungry crabs were waiting for us. On board we had a bucket with a 1,000 foot of pre-baited trotline, two nets, and a big battered plastic tub in which the captured crabs would be kept. We, of course, also had the requisite safety gear (life preservers and vests as well as a trusty whistle!) in case we happened to be inspected by any police patrolling the water.

Once we arrived at "the spot", Matt eyed out a straight line course upon which the trotline would be laid and then started setting the line. The trotline began with two metal weights followed by a length of rope with a white buoy attached. After that, there was a, length of heavy chain and then the actual trotline. Matt maneuvered the boat in a slow straight path while carefully dropping the baited trotline. Once the entire line was dropped (set), we found ourselves at the other end with another weight and another white buoy. Now it was time to see if there were any hungry crabs nibbling on our line.

Matt drove the boat all the way back to the first white buoy, which was the marker for the beginning of the trotline. He then hooked up an ingenious PVC pipe attachment to the back of the boat. The best way I can describe it is a sideways "F" - looked sorta like this:

|__|___

Matt picked up the beginning of the trotline (the chain) and fed it through the PVC pipe holder and slowly proceeded forward. The clank-clank-clank-clank of the chain length soon fell silent as the actual trotline started to feed through. Now this PVC pipe contraption was so ingenious to me because it not only kept the line on track, but it also served to knock off any small crabs (not big enough to catch) before the line was returned to the water and its resting place on the bottom. The groove was big enough -and the PVC pipe rounded enough- to easily let the bait pass through without tugging or snagging the entire trotline and it enabled Matt to use his hands for more important things -like steering the boat and snatching catch-worthy crabs from the trotline ascending from the water in front of him. It obviously took a lot of skill and coordination on Matt's part. Somehow he managed to steer the boat, running it at just the right speed, while holding a wire net with his other hand and snatching up crabs from the ascending trotline -without getting caught up in the moving line- and slamming the crabs down into the big plastic bin in one fell swoop. It was amazing to watch him work and a little scary to see that net slamming down in front of me with a panicked crab flailing around. On our first run through the line, we (Matt) probably netted a little over a dozen nice-sized crabs. Once we reached the end of the line, we'd turn around and head back towards the beginning and do the whole maneuver again.

The crabs were none too happy about being snatched up and hurled into a plastic bin with dozens of other prisoners. And a few of them angrily lunged at anything that got too close. Unfortunately for me, that happened to be my hand at one point. I was actually being a merciful captor by pouring some water over the prisoners but I got down in bin too far while pouring the water and, like lightening, BAM! A crab in the corner lunged at my hand, claws snapping, and he managed to latch on to my middle finger. It felt like the tip of my finger had just been hit square with a big heavy hammer. The pain was instant and intense and I instantly shot up to a standing position in the boat while I yanked back my wounded right hand. The angry crab held on tight for a moment and then fell off back into the boat causing all of us to scramble and get our exposed bare feet and legs to higher ground. Shane finally managed to grab the rebellious crustacean with some metal tongs and fling him back into his holding bin.

By the time I finally got a good look at my finger, it was bleeding pretty nicely. The crab had managed to snap his claw closed on my finger top-to-bottom. In other words, the top part of his claw punctured my finger nail while the bottom sunk into flesh on the other side. I was amazed at the force of the blow -enough to go through my finger nail! So now I had a battle scar to show my family when I got back to shore. I was hoping for sympathy, but fully expected the laughter I ended up getting.
In a little under three hours we had made a dozen or so "runs" on the line and netted a good sized bushel of crabs. Some runs only netted one or two edible-sized crabs while other runs yielded more than a dozen. In the process, the three of us traded dirty jokes and funny stories and had some real quality male bonding time. Sure, Matt did all the hard work while Shane and I just watched, but you could tell he really enjoyed crabbing and he enjoyed it even more when he had some company on the boat -which Shane and I were happy to provide.

Of course, the most gratifying part of the whole experience was getting back to shore and throwing them crabbies in a huge pot with some vinegar, beer, and spices and steaming them to perfection. I made sure to identify the little bastard that attacked me on the boat and, after he was steamed, I began my feast with him, starting with his menacing claws.

So now I can say I've gotten the full crab experience and I feel like a more well-rounded crab aficionado because of it. I hope to have the chance to go crabbing with Matt one more time before the summer ends and, this time, I might even try my hand at actually netting some crabs. If I do, the odds are very much in favor of me ending up in the water. I can see that already.

Loss of a Good Friend

2010-07-30T23:30:00.001-07:00

Today our dog, Woody, died very unexpectedly. He was 8 years old. A Rottie-Shepherd mix with a heart of gold and a quirky personality, he will be sorely missed and fondly remembered. He was a solid and vetted member of this family and the rest of us are deeply saddened tonight by his sudden and untimely passing. The house seems empty as are all of our hearts.

I can still remember the first time I laid eyes on Woody. My wife and I were making the rounds at the local Animal Control shelter looking for a dog that would fit in with our growing and hectic family. My wife was actually drawn to a different dog at first. He was jumping up and down, barking like there was no tomorrow. I said, "uh, no.... not that one." and then I saw Woody. He was less than a year old. Calmly sitting in the pen, intelligent eyes looking back at mine; head slightly cocked to the side. Yeah. He sucked me right in.

It wasn't until we got him home and the anesthesia from his, um, "fix" wore off that we realized we had a real live wire on our hands. At the time, we lived in a three-level townhouse and that dog would start from the ground floor and tear up the stairs -all the way to the top floor bedroom- bounce off the bed, tear back down the stairs to the bottom floor and ricochet off the couch only to repeat the whole maneuver again. Crazy. And that was only his inside antics.

Take Woody outside and show him a Frisbee or a tennis ball -any kind of ball for that matter- and the game was on. The dog was focused on that ball or frisbee... nothing else mattered. Some of his mid-air catches were downright breath-taking.

And it didn't take us long to realize that Woody LOVED to swim too. He was like a big furry fish in the water. He would swim and swim and swim and swim.

Once we moved to our next house and our two children started getting older and bigger, we saw the patience and understanding that Woody had with them. They would pull his ears, try to hop on his back, and attempt to dress him up in all sorts of costumes. When Woody was really annoyed, he let the kids know with a menacing snarl. Not that it ever stopped our kids. And much to Woody's credit, he never went further than that menacing snarl. He understood that kids would be kids.

It only took a couple of times for you to be around Woody before you really appreciated what a fine dog he was. For as goofy and hyper as he acted, underneath was a true friend and a thoughtful companion. His facial expressions were sometimes so human it made you pause and wonder just what he was thinking. And as he got older and calmed down a little, we all enjoyed being able snuggle with him and scratch his tummy and watch him act all goofy in appreciation.

Woody definitely had a love-hate relationship with our other dog and our cat -at least during daylight hours. At night, you could find all three animals snuggled up together. In our bed, of course, hogging all the good sleep real estate.

Woody loved to run and play ball and tug-of-war and he was fiercely protective of his backyard domain when he saw a squirrel or two threatening to intrude. He had a bark that would scare the meanest burglar but he was a real love-muffin at heart.

I miss him so much already.

The hardest part of losing him is just how quickly he left us. He collapsed at home, was rushed to the vet and, less than two hours later, he was gone. Turns out he had a cyst or tumor in his heart and, this particular day, it just failed him. Up until then he ran like a horse and played like there was no tomorrow. And now it feels like there really is no tomorrow.

I'm glad he went fast and with relatively little pain and suffering but we're all still in shock at how sudden and fast it all went down. If only I would have known that this past morning was the last time I'd see him alive... I could've given him an extra hug and reminded him how much he was loved. I think he knew that anyway, but I guess it would've been more for my piece of mind.

Our young children -especially my son- are devastated. Knowing how hard it all is for me to accept, I can only imagine how difficult it is for them. And to see the tears and pain in their eyes only makes my heart ache more. And then there's my poor wife who had to take Woody to the vet and be with him in his last moments. She so loved that dog. She's been crying off and on all night and I'm of little comfort since I'm so upset myself.

It's times like these when you want to believe -without a doubt- in heaven and angels and life after death -even where dogs are concerned. Woody is surely angel material. He brought us so much fun and laughter and gave us unconditional friendship... it's just hard to imagine tomorrow without him. I hope if there is an ever-after for dogs that Woody is among friends now and knows how much we all love and miss him. I wish him limitless frisbees and tennis balls and all the swimming and squirrel-chasing he can handle. I hope he never forgets us because we'll never forget him. We're better people for having known him and much sadder people for having lost him so suddenly. Rest easy Woody. Thanks for all the great times. We love you and miss you terribly.

What a Weekend!

2010-06-27T21:18:00.000-07:00

I always joke, from time to time, that I need a weekend to recover from my weekend. That is oh so true this weekend.

Saturday, I DJ'd back-to-back weddings. The first was more a favor to a quasi-friend and it was outside (yeah, there was a tent) in 95 degree Annapolis weather. Rough. Then I had to travel 40 minutes north towards Baltimore and set up a sound system for a ceremony (again, outside -no tent) plus the main system for the reception (in an AIR CONDITIONED tent). Needless to say it was a LONG, HOT, SWEATY DAY/NIGHT for me. Both weddings went well, but there was one person -one asshole- who ruined the entire day for me. He was greatly angered that the song that he requested (several times via several people) didn't actually make it to my speakers in time for the intended person to hear the song. So, when I did play the song he made a special point to come up to me and explain that this song was requested especially for the grandmother of the bride (news to me!) who had already left the reception. I felt really bad. I told him that and sincerely apologized. I said, "Sir, I'm really sorry." He informed me I wasn't sorry. Instead I was a "fucking bad DJ".

Sorry folks. When you throw out the "F" word at a wedding reception - after I've been on my feet all day and working my ass off to make sure everything is perfect for two brides and two grooms- I just don't react all that well. I wanted to hit him. Hard. With everything I had. Instead I informed him that the conversation was over. But this drunk asshole wouldn't let it go. He kept blabbering on and on. I wanted to hit him. Harder.

Finally, I just walked away. My intent was to go find the manager of the hall and have her kick this chump to curb. But this guy followed me. He FOLLOWED ME. So, I turned around and asked him how long he'd been DJing. Totally threw him off... "I'm not a DJ!" he insisted. "Right!" I said, "so shut up and leave me alone!"

Sorry, but I take that kind of stuff to heart. It hurts me deeply. I put everything I have into DJing weddings including countless hours before-hand preparing music, schedules, and all sorts of details. And then I take great care at the actual reception to make sure I play what the bride and groom -and their parents- want to hear. After that, I focus on guest requests and try to play as many as possible. So when you come up to me and insinuate that I'm just a sucky DJ who is unconcerned about request, that just kills me. If this guy had come up and explicitly said "hey, this song is a request for the bride's grandmother who is going to be leaving soon" I can guarantee you the song would've been given a higher priority. That wasn't the case. It was just a request. And I did play the friggin' song -as soon as I thought it was appropriate and after I had accommodated all of the bride's requests.

I ended up getting a big thanks from the bride's father, and nice tip from the groom. Several other guests made it a point to stop by at the end and thank me for the great music too. But, of course, that one drunk idiot is going to be forever associated with that otherwise-awesome wedding reception. It's moments like that that make you wanna stop DJing.

And that brings us to Sunday. We had our first house concert of the season scheduled. My plan was to sleep in until 9am or so and then get up and get everything in order way before the 2pm start time. But my gung-ho tree-hacking friend/neighbor had other plans. He had already spent the better part of Saturday (while I was DJing) in my backyard -and my neighbor's backyard- hacking down this precariously leaning tree. There was very little left of it by the time I arrived home at midnight, but my neighbor figured it was his civic duty to finish the job bright and early Sunday morning.

When I heard the knock on the door a little before 8am, I peeled one eye open, looked at my wife, and said "That was someone knocking on our door... it's 8am... who the HELL is knocking on our door at 8am!!?!"

When I got to the door and saw my neighbor standing there -chainsaw in hand- I just groaned. I knew my plans to sleep in where gone. I ended up helping him clear the rest of the tree branches and logs out of the neighbor's yard and then it was time to set up for the house concert. It was a lot of running around. And it was about 98 degrees outside (where the house concert was taking place). We had hosted one last year -kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing- just to see if we could pull it off. It went so well and we enjoyed it so much, we decided to do it again. So, early this year, prompted by a singer-songwriter friend of mine, David Glaser, we took the plunge and set up a concert every month at our place starting in May. The May concert never happened because the scheduled performer had a death in the family -his mother. Rather than try to substitute someone else, my wife and I decided to just wait until June.

We intend to hold all our house concerts out on our huge back deck which means we are always going to be at the mercy of Mother Nature. So in the week or so leading up to the big day, my wife and I were constantly checking the weather forecast. Our main concern, of course, was rain. But that turned out not to be an issue. The excessive heat and humidity was.

Temperatures were hovering right around 100 degrees Fahrenheit and we had set a start time of 2pm for the show. 1/3 of our deck is a screened-in gazebo room but the other 2/3 is open and uncovered. The one big canopy umbrella that we own was placed at the "stage" end of the deck to provide some cover for the performers. That left a "no man's land" between the "stage" area and the screened in gazebo. No cover, no breeze, no mercy for anyone wanting to sit there. A friend of mine brought three of his box fans over and we placed them strategically on the deck but they did little good. They were basically just moving around extremely hot humid air. Let's just say it was one HOT show.

OK, lessson learned. A 10'x 10' pop-up canopy will be in place for the next show. I'm also thinking about starting the concert a little later in the afternoon... maybe 5pm. That might help a little too. But when all is said and done, it is what it is. Welcome to the wonderful Maryland summer weather!

I think more people would have shown up if it weren't for the extremely hot temperatures, but I was surprised and encourage by the 2 dozen or so people that did show up and stayed for the entire time, enjoying some great local original music. We made sure there was plenty to munch on and there were plenty of cold beverages to sip. Most folks came prepared with umbrellas, sunscreen, and cool clothing.

I really must say how great it all sounded. Aside from the fact that we had two incredibly talented singer-songwriter (who both brought along an A-list sideman to help them out), the simple sound system that I had set up just worked perfectly and sounded just awesome -to me anyway. I was worried about the music getting too loud and bugging my neighbors, but I had nothing to worry about. It was just all at a perfect level.

First up: Ruben Dobbs a.k.a. Swamp Candy. Now I've known Ruben for many years. He's played in a lot of different bands doing a lot of different styles of music. He's a top-notch guitar player, but I have to admit I was never really much of a fan of any of his previous projects so it was with great deal of skepticism that I took in my first Swamp Candy performance from Ruben about two years ago. Gee, sure glad I went. Ruben had hit upon something special. He had focused in on the classic roots and blues music of days long gone by and sprinkled in a little country twang here and there. The music instantly took me back to the first time I heard classic blues masters like Muddy Waters, Robert Johnson, and John Lee Hooker. His performance of this genre of music was genuine and emotional and, quite frankly, my wife and I were blown away.

I had approached him sort of last-minute (the week before) to perform at the house concert and he was gracious enough to accept, no questions asked. He showed up with his bass player toting a huge upright bass and a kick drum. Ruben had a couple different guitars with him and I just knew it was going to be a good time. And it was. He just sound awesome and I know he garnered some new fans and sold quite a few CDs afterwards.

Next up: One of my favorie singer-songwriters, Mr. Tony Denikos. He's a true song craftsman on par with the likes of Arlo Guthrie and John Prine. No one can tell a story with a song -and have you laughing and crying at the same time- like Tony can. At least that's my opinion. He had with him a bad ass guitar player, Gantt Kushner, who just perfectly highlighted all the songs Tony played. It was the best I've heard Tony sound -not that he ever sounds "bad" mind you. Maybe it was the heat that made everything sizzle, I dunno.

After it was all over, we all hung out and chatted and got to know some of the new faces that had shown up. It was a great time and so much worth all the effort leading up to it. I would be very remiss if I didn't give most of the planning and preparation credit to my super human wife, Asa. She cooked, cleaned, weeded, mowed, scrubbed and set up practically everything for the big show. And then we got an extra hand from some true and wonderful friends who ran to the store for more ice, brought box fans and umbrellas from home, and help Asa and me with the food. Awesome. Just Awesome. Can't wait until the next one.

More on Music

2010-06-25T13:51:00.000-07:00

It takes a great deal of skill and music knowledge to be a good DJ. Most people don't realize that. The majority of bar and club owners these days don't realize that. A lot of musicians don't realize that. Quite a few DJs don't realize it either.

As with anything art-related, you really have to have a love and respect for music in order to successfully do anything with it; whether it's singing, dancing, composing, or DJing. DJing, quite simply, is the artistic programming and manipulation of recorded music. You can create an iTunes playlist with 50 great songs, but the magic is in the way the songs are ultimately delivered to the listener. The order in which they are presented. The timing. The grouping of songs. The change ups. All these things turn a playlist of songs into a powerful, motivating, and magical tool in the hands of a good DJ. DJing is a performance art when done correctly. But unless you're a bigshot club DJ spinning vinyl records full of techno, house, and alternative dance grooves at some ubercool club in NYC, you're not gonna get much respect as a mobile DJ playing in a bar downtown. It's just the way it is. It's always been that way and I think it's gotten significantly worse thanks to the giant leaps of technology that enable any dufus with a computer and a USB control surface claim to be a DJ.

Most of the people who are booking music (live and DJ) for the bars and clubs around town are ignorant to what works and what doesn't; who's great and who's not. And money continues to be the bottom line. This is great news to all those mediocre musicians and DJs out there who are willing to play the night for $50. It's downright frustrating to the true professionals who are losing gigs to these bottom feeders. You don't have to be very bright to know when a band or musician sucks. It only takes one or two songs; sometimes even less than that. It's a little trickier to pick out the good DJs from the not-so-good ones and you truly have to appreciate and love music to really notice and appreciate a great DJ. That's what I think anyway. And since I write, sing, play, compose, study, and DJ music, I'm confident that I'm qualified to make such an assessment.

I've DJ'd hundreds upon hundreds of bar gigs and witnessed first hand the euphoria (theirs and mine) that a stellar set of perfectly melded songs can deliver. I have had countless people shower me with slurred praise at the end of the night and tell me what an awesome DJ I was and how great the music was. Nothing beats the feeling you get after receiving a kind word or sincere compliment. Nothing beats the feeling you get from seeing a packed dance floor and knowing that you caused that to happen. I've had a lot of those good feelings over the years but there's still times when I get down on myself and discourage at the business side of things. There are people who can make you feel worthless and insignificant and cause you to question why you even bother at all. I guess it's a roller coaster sort of thing.

This was a very long-winded way to get to my point. I received a compliment last night from someone who wasn't really trying to compliment me, but really succeeded in making the frustration I've been feeling lately a little more "worth it" to me. I was DJing at place that I hadn't played at in years and I was playing off-the-beaten-path music for most of the night. There weren't too many people in this place, but one of them happened to be a "regular" who used to come every week to hear me DJ. I recognized her immediately when she approached and she had this big smile and hopeful eyes when she asked, "hey, are you gonna be here next week too?" I told her no; that I was just filling in. She was noticeably disappointed and then she said the nicest thing to me. "You know, nobody plays music like you do. I was all excited to see you back here. You've turned me on to so many great songs that I would have otherwise never heard. I hope you fill in more often."

Wow. Somebody notices and understands and appreciates what I do and what makes me different from most of the other DJs in town. And even though it was a dead night and a pretty uneventful evening, that little conversation made it all worth while.

Scapegoats and Plastic Bottles

2010-06-18T09:39:00.000-07:00

We gotta have a scapegoat. It’s the American way. When something goes horribly wrong in our great nation, we like to narrow it down to one person or one entity, heap all the blame on them, and string them up for all to see. Ah, there. Now don’t we all feel better?

Of course I’m referring to that sinister, evil, spawn of Satan, Mr. Tony Hayward; the CEO of British Petroleum (BP), the most evil and heartless company on the face the earth; the entity solely responsible for the millions of gallons of crude oil that’s spilling into the Gulf. Yes, if it weren’t for BP, all would be right in the world. Mr. Hayward and his company have ruined beaches and waterways, destroyed scores of natural habitats and put entire species of animal at risk. Yep, it’s all BP’s fault and any apologies or acts of contrition from them or Mr. Hayward are obviously lies and utter nonsense.

Fear not dear citizens! Our noble and honest members of Congress are on the case and they are unleashing the scorn of a nation on that evil demon, Mr. Hayward; and all in front of rolling cameras that can broadcast the spectacle to all the world. Yeah buddy, BP’s going down for this one! Hey, and while we’re at it, let’s boycott all the BP gas stations. Don’t buy their gas – you’ll only be supporting the evil!!! Never mind that those BP gas stations are owned locally by, perhaps, a friend or neighbor of yours and you’re destroying their income and livelihood. Nah, that’s irrelevant! Someone’s got to pay for this! BP has got to pay for this!!

I’m sorry, but my heart really goes out to Mr. Hayward. Yeah, he may be a rich, greedy, fat cat who has profited tremendously as CEO of BP, but now he’s the poor schmuck who is the face of evil for millions of Americans and no matter what the guy says or does, he’ll probably go down in history as one of the top villains of our time. Bet that detail was never even remotely mentioned in his job description when he signed on. He may as well have just personally dropped a bomb on that oil rig because all of the dozens of people that will ultimately be proven responsible in part for this catastrophe will probably remain nameless while Mr. Hayward becomes a household name synonymous with pure evil.

If everyone would just pause for a moment, calm down, and really think this whole mess through, we’d realize we are all to blame for the debacle in the Gulf. Greed and Arrogance are the true evil behind this and other problems facing our country. We’re a gas-guzzling, electricity-hogging, resource-wasting, environment-polluting society. Anything goes as long as we’re fat and happy in our big SUVs driving through our big cities lit up like Christmas trees, throwing trash out the window, and leaving pollution in our wake. It’s the American way.

BP, ExxonMobile, ConocoPhilips, and Chevron all exist and thrive because we demand oil – and LOTS of it. It’s easy to sit and blame BP for everything, but every single one of us takes a big fat dump on the environment every day by insisting on driving performance and luxury automobiles, not recycling, and simply wasting everything imaginable in every imaginable way. We’re an arrogant society unwilling to cut back or modify our behaviors, foolish enough to believe that we’re entitled to everything and still wanting more in the process. We don’t think about the consequences until some catastrophe happens; the price of gas skyrockets, the economy tanks, or a major oil spill happens. And then, instead of each of us stepping up and trying to fix the situation, we immediately seek out our scapegoat and blame it all on them. Meanwhile, we keep doing what we’re doing and enact some insanely stupid measure like boycotting a business to vent our frustrations.

Nothing to me is more laughable than watching members of Congress get all holier-than-thou in front of the cameras and give the selected scapegoats of the month a good scolding on behalf of the nation. Remember when they hauled in the executives from the Ford and GM? How about the CEO of Toyota, USA? The Savings & Loan executives? Yeah, it was all pretty much the same show; a bunch of corrupt, greedy politicians yelling “shame on you!” at a bunch of scapegoats. Hypocrites with mighty big balls, that’s for sure. It’s like Charles Manson scolding you for killing someone. Laughable and so very sad at the same time.

Almost as laughable, but a little more irritating to me is seeing folks posting their “Boycott BP” messages on Facebook. Yeah! We’ll show ‘em! That’ll solve everything! I do believe our privileged way of life has seriously impacted our common sense. It’s really sad. The same people bitching about BP are the ones who refuse to recycle or half-ass the task because they’re too lazy to take the time to learn about how to effectively recycle. They’re the same people driving around in humongous SUVs or pick-up trucks that will never, ever, be utilized for their intended purpose -hauling huge loads or going off-road. Hell, most of the pickup trucks I see these days fall into the luxury auto class. It’s crazy. Why do we drive around in these monstrosities?! Because we can, that’s why! We always have to have the fastest, fanciest, biggest, newest, and most expensive of everything. It’s all about image, baby! Never mind the fact that we’re just fueling the vicious cycle of waste and abuse on our environment. Not our problem. After all, we got a scapegoat now!

Everyone all the way up to the President wants to stamp their feet and complain about how the automakers dropped the ball on developing alternative fuel sources and cleaner, more efficient vehicles. Well, yeah, they did but mostly because we all demanded that they do that. They’re all in business to sell as many cars as possible at as high of a price as possible. They spend a fair amount of money on research and marketing and, based on all their findings, they build and market the vehicles that are most likely to sell and most likely to turn a profit. They don’t have much room in their budget for noble for-the-good-of-all-mankind projects, they gotta sell, sell, sell!! And so when oil prices go through the roof and the economy tanks, who ends up being the bad guys? Yeah, the evil automakers who refuse to give us more fuel efficient cars… you know, the same cars that in more prosperous times, we laughed at the thought of buying.

Back to recycling. How much more easy can it be made for you idiots?! Nowadays, you have this big yellow recycling bin that you can throw –unsorted- plastic, paper, Styrofoam, metal, and glass in. Yeah, unsorted! You don’t have to do a damn thing except throw anything recyclable in the friggin’ yellow container. Years ago, you had to sort and separate paper and glass and aluminum into their own containers and figure out where to take them or, if there was a pick-up service in your neighborhood, figure out which days to put which items curbside. Now, it’s simple!! Just throw everything that’s recyclable in the yellow container and put it out by the curb once a week. Why do I see so many people having such a hard time with this?! Since my family started recycling in earnest in our house, I’ve found that probably 70% of what we throw away ends up as recyclable. Another 10% is food scraps that can be used as compost material or flushed down the sink disposal. On trash day now we have 2 to 3 times as much recyclable trash as we do regular trash. But yet I look up and down my block and I see the exact opposite. This can only mean that folks are either too lazy to recycle or they’re just not knowledgeable enough to be more effective with their recycling.

My office is another prime example. In every room they have both a regular trash can and a blue recycling trash can. So all a person has to do is throw the right kind of trash in the right kind of can, both of which are right there for them! And yet I can walk around and see plastic wrappings, soda cans, plastic water bottles, and discarded paper towels all thrown in the regular trash. Why?! Is it so difficult to grasp the concept of recycling? I also see lots of professed recyclers throwing away a plastic container or can in the regular garbage because it’s dirty. Maybe there’s a plastic takeout container with half a salad left in it or a yogurt cup that has yogurt smears. Nope, can’t throw them in recycling, they’re dirty. God forbid we actually have to take a moment and dump the remaining food in the regular trash or rinse something out in the sink. Nah. Too much trouble. Hey, guess what plastic is made out of…. OIL. Now you’re making BP work twice as hard so you can have your nifty little throw away plastic container that you simply refuse to put in the recycle bin. You tell me who the bad guy is.

I’m not denying that all of these big oil companies, automakers, and multi-billion-dollar corporations are mostly all run or influenced by greedy, rich fat cats whose primary mission is to make more and more and more money at any cost. I’m just saying it’s like that because we all ignorantly support that methodology in our daily lives and it’s time that we really own up to who and what we really are. It ain’t a pretty reflection staring us back in the mirror, but recognizing it, owning up to it, and then changing, is the first and only step in the right direction for our nation.

Dear Neighbor

2010-04-20T17:13:00.001-07:00

I came home today and found an envelope tucked among my delivered mail. It wasn't delivered by the post office -one of my neighbors slipped in my mail box anonymously. It was a handwritten note on a piece of notebook paper informing me that my crazy old poodle, Linus, barks continuously from the time my wife and I leave in the morning until we return later in the afternoon (we had no idea this was going on). The note further threatened to notify Animal Control -or as the dipshit who wrote the note put it "Dog Control"- if the barking continued. Of course, there was no signature on the note.

I guess this is what it has come to these days. Face to face communication and common human courtesy has fallen by the wayside in today's fast-paced, get-ahead society. I'm guilty of it too. At work, I'll shoot an email to the guy in the office right next to mine instead of getting off my fat ass, walking a few feet, and talking to him man to man. I'll spend an hour texting or chatting online with someone instead of picking up the phone and talking to them. We are all, in one way or another, victims of our current society. I can remember my mom telling me about "the good old days" when nobody locked their doors at night and everybody knew everybody in the neighborhood. Truthfully, I know the names of only four of my neighbors and I've lived here for over five years. It's not like I'm a hobbit or a recluse, it's just that we all have busy lives and there's not a lot of time to get acquainted with neighbors unless you have to for some reason.

Still, if I were home all day and there was a neighborhood dog that was barking all day and annoying me, my first course of action would be for me to knock on the neighbor's door and let them know, as politely as possible, that their dog is annoying. Furthermore, if I were home all day being annoyed by said dog, and I realized that the owners were gone all day, I'd wait until they get home, knock on their door, and politely inform them that when they leave, their pooch barks all day. Based on personal experience, I have to believe that these folks would welcome such news and thank me for bringing it to their attention. After all, they're gone all day - how the hell do they know their dog is barking ALL day?!

Herein lies the source of my anger and frustration. It also kills me to see my wife get so upset over some cowardly asshole who decided an anonymous threatening note was better than a polite knock on our door. We're good, considerate neighbors. We do what we can not to piss off other neighbors. We also do what we can to take care of our pets. So when we're gone during the day -and the weather permits- we lock our dogs in our bedroom and leave our sliding glass door leading to our deck open for them. That way they can lounge on the bed and still have access to the outside when they need a tree or just some fresh air. Unfortunately, my old poodle, Linus, is quite deaf and senile these days. And apparently, he doesn't like it when we leave the house and now barks ALL day. We always heard him barking as we pulled in the driveway, but just figured he knew we were home. Obviously, we were mistaken.

I realize that we're surrounded by a LOT of idiotic people who have no real sense of reality aside from their own perception of it. I'm just sad that I now have proof that at least one of my neighbors fits into this pathetic category.

But, for the record Dear Neighbor, your letter was received and noted. And we are sorry to have disturbed you. We will be sure to keep our doggy locked up tight during the day. We're also sorry that you were too much of an asshole or a coward -or both- to knock on our door and talk to us about this.

Best wishes growing a brain or a set of balls. Or both.

Signed,

Anonym-ass

Sometimes you gotta think things through

2009-10-27T17:52:00.000-07:00

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

Sometimes People Die Slowly

2009-06-05T22:39:00.000-07:00

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.

Me & Todd @ Luke's Grille

2009-05-29T22:50:00.000-07:00

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.

Roedown Review

2009-04-08T18:41:00.000-07:00

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.

Full Circle

2009-03-27T23:07:00.000-07:00

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.

Dogfish Head

2009-03-10T21:55:00.000-07:00

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.

Passage

2009-03-08T18:35:00.000-07:00

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.

DJ Michael K. Returns to Pesce

2009-02-14T11:47:00.000-08:00

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.

Stimulus... my @ss

2009-02-11T22:50:00.000-08:00

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."

Dr. Adrian Rogers, 1931-2005

25 Random Things About Me...

2009-02-07T20:34:00.000-08:00

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.

2009-01-28T20:13:00.000-08:00

Thought I'd share a recent picture of my kids, Lucas & Cadence, taken by my favorite photographer and close friend, Charles Funk. And while we're at it, you should check out his website: http://CharlesFunk.com

The ACME

2009-01-25T11:45:00.000-08:00

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.

2009-01-18T07:31:00.000-08:00

Footbal Shmootball

2009-01-17T17:04:00.000-08:00

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!

Forget Me Not

2009-01-08T19:04:00.001-08:00

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!)

This is no time for parties...

2009-01-05T17:58:00.000-08:00

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.

Music Can Change the World

2009-01-02T06:22:00.000-08:00

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.

The Wise & Jolly Old Elf

2008-12-25T17:36:00.000-08:00

There are three hours and 50 minutes left of Christmas as I start to write this. Aside from things being a little tight financially and looking pretty bleak in the weeks to come (slow DJ season), I’d say this year was a success and a very Merry Christmas. The kids both got Nintendo DS game consoles; Lucas a black one and Cadence a pink one. They also got their share of other more traditional toys and clothing. It was enough stuff to keep them occupied for most of the day. And now they’re off to bed and hopefully quick to sleep.

The neatest thing last night (Christmas Eve) was a visit from Santa Claus. I had totally forgotten that we had purchased a Santa suit last year. We were somewhat disappointed with the sizing and quality of the thing once we got it –considering the $75 we paid for it- and we ended up not using it at all. Since this was our first Christmas at home and we were already preparing a Swedish Christmas Eve dinner, my wife thought we should go a step further and do another Swedish tradition… a Christmas Eve visit from Santa. She reminded me about the suit and I tried it on earlier that day for good measure. The plan was set into motion.

We had a nice Christmas Eve dinner with ham, Swedish meatballs, pickled herring, mashed potatoes, and some other unpronounceable traditional Swedish dishes. And, of course, snaps! After dinner, we moved the kids downstairs with our friends who celebrated the evening with us. I sneaked into the bedroom and got into the Santa suit. Then I exited the house from our bedroom, onto the deck, down the steps, out the gate, and around to the front of the house. I walked past the window where everyone was a couple of times until my kids saw me. They freaked out.

I came to the door, walked in, and sat down. My wife had given me a present for each of the children ahead of time. I handed them the present and warned them –in my best Santa voice- to be good and go right to bed. “Otherwise, I won’t be back later with more presents.” With that, I made my exit and as I headed out the front door I turned and said (this was more to give the adults a chuckle) “And don’t eat the yellow snow!!”

Once I was out the door, I quickly got back to the bedroom and changed back into my regular clothing and then popped downstairs and asked “What’s going on?!” The kids were jumping up and down... “Santa was here! He was here!”

It was obvious (but shocking) to me that they had absolutely no clue that it was me in a cheap Santa suit. I even went so far as to ask my son “How do you know it was the real Santa and not some imposter dressed up in a Santa suit?” He explained that this was the real deal because “Mom saw his reindeer out front!”

Nice cover, honey.

I pulled it off. I pulled off being Santa. It was fun. I did want to see if any of Santa’s warnings about being good had penetrated their sugar-saturated skulls so I asked “What did Santa tell you guys?”

My daughter chimed up first all excited. “He said to not eat yellow snow.”

Christmas at Home!

2008-12-23T16:09:00.000-08:00

We've lived in this house now for three years. This will be the first Christmas Eve and Christmas Day that we -the entire family- will spend in it. Every year, for the past five or six (or seven?) years, we've had a standing invitation for holiday dinners at the Hohman's. Elizabeth Hohman and her husband, Bill, live right outside of Wilmington, Delaware -their property/development is actually in Pennsylvania, but they can drive 1/4 mile down the road and be in Delaware. Weird. Anyhow, my wife shares a very distant family relation with Elizabeth. You ready?

Elizabeth is my wife's step-mother's cousin. Therefore, Elizabeth is pure-bred Swede. She's lived with her husband, Bill, in the United States for over 30 years. Bill is an OBGYN. Bill and Elizabeth have three grown sons; Eric, Johan, and Will. Eric and Johan are married. Will was the last time move out of the Hohman homestead just a couple months ago. He and his girlfriend of many years, Katie, found a cute house that they just bought and moved into.

Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas dinners at the Hohman's are always special and always overflowing with good Swedish food, strong Swedish liquor (snaps!), laughter, singing, and good conversations. Although the relation between Elizabeth and my wife is distant and through marriage at best, we are consider part of the Hohman clan and our kids are more like grandchildren to Elizabeth and Bill who, up until the birth of Eric's son, Oliver, a couple months ago, had no grandchildre of their own.

Growing up, it was just me and mom. No extended family, no big dinners, no real holiday traditions. It was always warm, cozy, and intimate though but certainly nothing like we've been experiencing the last couple of years at the Hohman's.

But this year, Elizabeth "moved" Christmas Eve dinner back a couple days to December 20th in order to accomodate everybody's schedule and her husband, Bill. As I said, he's a doctor and, sadly, he'll be working Christmas Eve into Christmas Day.

We went up this past Saturday and had a great time and got to celebrate Christmas with the kids a little early. Bill and Elizabeth always buy them gifts which, of course they HAD to open right then and there.... They even got me a cool wine decanter and a wine book. And my wife got a gift card for the gap and some other goodies.

So we really lucked out this year because, not only did we get to carry on the tradition with the Hohman's, we now can look forward to our FIRST CHRISTMAS EVE AT HOME. We're making a nice dinner in the Swedish tradition and we'll have a few friends over to help us celebrate. And then, for the first time in three years, we'll snuggle down in our own bed with our dogs Woody and Linus (and Miss Kitty too!) and go to sleep and journey into Christmas Day. I'm looking forward to it.

The economy sucks, it's been a rough year financially and emotionally for me, but I still realize how much I have to be thankful for. And I'll tell ya, I'm real thankful to be spending this Christmas at home with my family and NOT on the road.

Ah, Christmas

2008-12-22T04:39:00.001-08:00

My dad died the week before Christmas and was buried on Christmas Eve. I was two years old, so I don't remember it nor was I traumatized by it. How can you miss something (someone) you never had? He wasn't too keen about having another kid anyway. My mom was 40 when I was born... my dad was 59. That means he'd be 99 if he were alive today. He already had eight kids with his first wife and all of them were out of school and their own for the most part. Imagine his shock when I showed up. He was way past that Fatherhood thing. Apparently, it was all too much for his ticker. He died of a massive heart attack after hanging the Christmas lights and having sex with mom. He about to take a relaxing bath and then -blammo!- he keels over dead on the bathroom floor. Mom heard the thud, ran upstairs and found him laying there. Mom was a nurse and she knew right away he was dead. It wasn't his first heart attack. In fact, that's how they met... he was in the hospital recovering from a previous heart attack and my mom was his nurse. He never took good care of his health.

I know the holidays always sucked for mom but she always made sure to put on a good show for me... decorations, twinkling lights, a Christmas tree... We never had a lot of money, but somehow mom always made sure I got pretty much what I wanted (and everything else I needed) for Christmas. She was the best mom.

Once I got older, I kinda fell out of the Christmas spirit. It all became too commercialized to me. Every year, the Christmas decorations hit the store shelves earlier and earlier. This year, they started showing up a few days after Halloween. It makes me feel that the holiday is being FORCED upon me. "You WILL celebrate Christmas. You WILL spend a lot of cash buying gifts for people who you otherwise wouldn't -but you know they're going to get YOU something (stupid) and so now you're obligated." It's a vicious circle. An exercise in futility. Yes, I know... I should change my name to Ebeneezer.

But this year is different. I'm actually in the Christmas mood. This is probably the WORST year financially, but I still have an itch to decorate (I dropped $300 on new outside lights) and I managed to get my wife a surprise gift. We got the kids some cool big-item gifts and -thanks to my DJ gigs at Nordstrom's (yeah, I was back there yesterday), I have some more money to pick up some stocking stuffers in time for Christmas Eve.

I have one regret. Not being able to help those less fortunate than me and my family. I know of such a family through a mutual friend. They have five kids -all girls- with another bun in the oven. The girls range in age from 3 to 11. My friend says they don't have much. Most of kids don't even have warm enough clothes for the winter let alone toys. I wanted to take a couple hundred bucks and buy each kid a toy and maybe some gloves and hats. I wanted to also deliver a grocery order for mom and dad. But I ran out of time and I have no money to do it. I've resolved to make a plan NOW so this doesn't happen next year. I figure I could DJ a few gigs and allocate that money specifically for one or two families. I think I could even get local businesses (Nordstrom's) to jump on the bandwagon.

I'm still hoping for some extra cash though to help those kids. They're really on my mind.

More thoughts on Christmas later! I might even share my new Christmas song with you... Three days and counting....

My Kids are already smarter than me

2008-12-18T18:30:00.000-08:00

I have two kids. Lucas is five now. He'll turn six on January 16th. Cadence is four. Her birthday, August 9th, is one day before mine and two days before our wedding anniversary (no, I'm not married to my daughter - I meant my wife and I).

They say part of the joy of having children is being able to discover the world again through their eyes. They have so many questions and there's so many simple things that amaze them when they're this young. It's also a fine opportunity for a wise-ass such as myself to get a few doozies over on them. For the longest time, I had both kids convinced that I could change traffic lights from red to green simply by blowing in their direction. I, of course, was watching the opposing lights and timing it so that when they changed to yellow, I took a big inhale and blew. I'm not sure they understand the whole system yet, but I'm sure they know dad has a trick to doing it now.

With Christmas right around the corner, I thought I'd come up with an ingenious way of getting through stores without having to buy a bunch of toys and without just flatly rejecting the kids' requests and having them start bawling in the store. My secret? THE LIST. Ah yes, whenever my daughter pointed out a toy or a piece of clothing (yep, she's already into clothes and makeup) she wanted, I'd say "Well Christmas is coming... be good... I'll add this to 'the list' and we'll see how you behave."

This work very, very well for the longest time until last Friday. Cadence was sick and had to stay home from preschool. My wife had already committed to helping some friends exercise some race horses. So, I selflessly stayed home from work and hung out with Cadence. I figure the kid's sick... this is a chance for me to catch some shut-eye and kick back for the day. Nope. She didn't feel like snuggling with daddy. She wanted to color. She wanted to read books. She wanted (me) to play with her dolls. It was driving me nuts. Finally, I suggested we go to the gym. See, the gym has "kids club" where parents can drop off their little terrorists for an hour or two while they work out, take a class, or go for swim.

My work-outs are no walk in the park but faced with the option of four more hours of harassment at home from my daughter, the gym seemed like nirvana. I also made a side-deal with Cadence that, after the gym, I'd take her to lunch and we could eat anything she wanted. She chose sushi. Yeah, you heard me. The kids eats sushi (California rolls) like they were candy. She like Miso soup and yellowtail sashimi too.

So after the gym and a shower, we end up eating at this local sushi joint called Yamoto. Two doors down from Yamoto is The Bike Doctor and Cadence asked very nicely after lunch if we could go in and look around. I obliged.

It only took a few seconds for Cadence to pick out this snazzy pink bike right inside the front door.

"I want this one daddy!" she said insistantly, slapping the seat with her hand.

"But you already have a bike, Cadence."

"No, that's an old bike. I want this one. Lucas got a new bike."

I knew I was heading into the weeds with this conversation so I fell back on THE LIST. My saviour. Mentioning the list has gotten me out of so many potential public tantrums, I almost considered trying it on my wife.

"Well," I started "Ya know Christmas is coming. If you want we can put it on the list and see what happens."

Cadence put her hand up as if she was stopping traffic. "No daddy! I have enough things on the list! I want this bike now! The list is full already!"

I was dumbstruck. So much for the list. I quickly ushered her out of the store and went to Plan B. "Hey, how would you like an ice cream?!"

I kinda thought that was the end of the story. My daughter had outsmarted me and had circumvented the tried and true list philosophy. But she wasn't done yet. Later, when we picked my son, Lucas, up from the school bus stop, she proudly proclaimed "Guess what Lucas! Me and daddy when to the bike store today and we're getting new bikes tomorrow!!"

Yeah, it took a few minutes to get out of that one... especially with "the list" expunged from my arsenal.

All I Want for Christmas...

2008-12-16T22:14:00.000-08:00

So tonight I played the annual Annapolis Christmas Show at Rams Head Onstage in Annapolis. In fact, it was the 10th Anniversary Show and I was honored to be a part of it. I was also very happy to have my old guitar player (from the band) Brian Baker be able to back me up on my two original Christmas songs.

It's really funny how things work out and come together. Brian lives in Key West now but he was up here in MD taking a class for work and decided to call me & the Mrs. to see if there was a night this week when we could hang out. I, of course, immediately roped him into playing the Christmas show with me and he came over last Sunday and did a crash course in the two original Christmas songs I planned to play.

And so we did. Tonight. And it went off REALLY well. The onstage sound at Rams Head... um... SUCKS!!! But since I've played there a few times, I knew this going in. And so did Brian. So we just ran through the songs as we'd rehearsed and let the audience be the judge. From all the feedback afterwards, I'd say we pulled it off. Made me realize how much I miss Brian and the band. It is REALLY a pain in the ASS to find a band, rehearse a band, get along with a band, and gig with a band. But what makes it all worth while are those few gigs that just make you feel like you are kings of the world. We had a few of those while "the band" was together. And I'll always look back on those times fondly.

But times and people change and times and people move on. So it was nice for the stars to align, for all the cards fall into place, and have Brian back in town and on stage with me. It was a nice Christmas gift.

After the show we hung out at Stan & Joe's Saloon and we actually sat in there and played two songs... this time Brian played drums. What can I say!? He's a jack of all trades!

The only regret.... I gotta get up and go to work tomorrow.

Man. That SUCKS.

DJ Michael K. Rocks the House at, um, Nordstrom's??!

2008-12-14T18:37:00.000-08:00

Yeah.

Saturday afternoon I DJ'd at Nordstrom's... the high-end department store at Westfield Annapolis. Yup. Set up right in the center of the store, first floor, by the escalators. I had a clear view of the folks entering from the mall entrance and the front entrance. Font-left of me was the cosmetics department; front-right, women's shoes. Behind me- the escalators. And to my immediate right there was a red chair with a sign: "This Seat Reserved for Mrs. Claus".

You may be asking yourself "Why in the world would Nordstrom's hire a DJ to spin music for four hours?" Join the club. Apparently, the thought was it would add a dash of festivity to the holiday season. And, if you ask me, I'd say that I succeeded and EXCEEDED all expectations. So much so that they asked me back next Saturday. Too bad I'll be in Delaware.

So let me set the scene. First off, I had very little details about the gig. The store admin was new on the job and we were playing phone and email tag the whole week preceding the gig. A few days before, I gleaned that they wanted a mix of holiday and top-40 music. That was it as far as details.

When I arrived, I met up with Alex, the maintenance guy from Russia (or some kin Slavic nation). Alex tried to be very helpful and would have had more success in the endeavour had he actually understood English.

"You need table?" he asked.

"No." I replied.

Two minutes later Alex shows up with a collapsable table. "This good size?" he asked proudly.

"No, I don't need a table, thank you."

"Where should I set up table?" Alex continued.

"Alex, I don't need a table... no table... no need table.... no."

Alex looked confused for a second. "You don't want table?"

"No, Alex, thank you though."

So then I find out that the management at Nordstrom's had planned on the music covering the second floor. Since I only had two speakers and no extra cables, this was a problem. Nordstrom's had speakers, but they were all self-powered and there was just no easy way to chain them to my sound system and I didn't have the right connectors to make it work. This, of course, was hard for Alex to understand as he kept on showing up with different speakers and wires hoping he had found the right ones to hook up with my system. Finally, he gave up and left. That's the last time I saw Alex that afternoon.

So I proceeded to play music. I played modern-day remakes of all the Christmas standards as well as some new Christmas songs (including my own!). In between these, I smattered some ear-friendly top-40, some lounge/jazz-type selections, and some classic pop and soul. Basically, whatever I felt like playing. The mix went over very well and I had a LOT of compliments from shoppers and Nordstrom's staffers alike. Of course, it wouldn't be a successful DJ gig if I didn't have at least one person come up and complain that the music was too loud (it was at "3" on my mixer). Apparently, to one haughty shopper "The music is SO loud, I can't even carry on a conversation with the sales associate!!"

"Huh?" I replied.

No, not really, but in hindsight that would've been HILARIOUS!

I consider the afternoon a raving success, but it was still one of the weirdest DJ gigs I've done in all the 15 years I've been doing this. I mean, I'm standing in the middle of a store at the intersection of two entrances watching people come in (some bee-bopping to the music) and looking at me and thinking "What's HE doing?"

And there I am standing there trying to strike some sort of a pose to portray a sense of "oh yeah, I belong here... just another DJ doing another job." I felt awkward. But I got a lot of compliments on the mix of music -which surprised me. And I had three of four shoppers come up and ask about a song... "Who sings this?" or "What's this song called?" That just supported my belief that I am a master music mixologist. And it gives me proof that music really moves people. And that give me hope that MY music will someday move the masses.

Adventures of DJ Michael K. Part 1

2008-12-12T23:21:00.000-08:00

So tonight I did a fill-in DJ job at PESCE in Annapolis. Formerly Pesce Grande, formerly Piezano's Pizza. This was actually the first time I'd been in there since back in the day when it was Piezano's. Wow! What a transformation. From neighborhood pizza joint to upscale Italian restaurant & bar... nice.

I got this job through a casual DJ acquaintance who sent out a blind email to all his "DJ buddies" to see if anyone could cover the show. In his own words it would probably be a "laid back gig that would end early -say midnight." It was the first night of a new promotion - "College Night - 18 & over". Since it was starting a week earlier -with little advertising in place- no one really expected the 300+ people that showed up. Least of all ME. I was treading water from the get-go. I love to beat-mix and I'm all about playing dance/club music all night. The only problem is I haven't been able to do that for so long, I was kinda out of the loop and at a loss for what to play. Sure, I have most of the current club/top-40/hip-hop, but I just haven't had the opportunity to play a lot of it with the weddings and bar gigs that I've been doing over the past year. Still, I held my own and the night was a success. I know this because the owner and the manager both asked for my business card and said about me coming back.

There were two REALLY funny episodes that are locked in my mind:

#1- My friend, Rich (Dickie) showed up with a bunch of his friends early in the evening. I had sent out an email to my "peeps" letting them know I'd be there. He was unpleasantly surprised to learn it was College Night. Him and I were probably the oldest guys in there. Still he brought some other friends from work and although Dickie left within an hour of arriving, some of his drunker friends stayed and danced.

#2- I'm With the DJ Girl -
So the age demographic was an average of 24 -and that's generous given the number of under-21 folks that were there. I felt SOOOO old. But I was still trying my darnedest to exude my "Cool DJ" vibe. It must have worked because this chic (man I wish I could remember her name) came up and started trying to dance with me while I was DJing. She was attractive and would have been even more so if it weren't for the black eye, the hat on side-ways, and her firm grasp of ghetto jargon. I wasn't sure if she was poking fun at me or coming on to me. Never have I felt so old and so white in my life. There she was grindin' and workin' it for the DJ... bending over and shoving her ample booty (yeah, I said booty) all up in my junk (see, I got the hang of this slang, homey). Frontwards, backwards, arms around my neck... from the front, from the back. And there I am... trying to keep the beat with her grinding ass, knowing full well how utterly ridiculous I look to her and everyone else. I kept telling her "I can't dance." and she kept saying "yeah, I can see that." but yet she kept on with her bad self. I wish I had a video of the whole thing. I'd have a good laugh at my own expense. I find myself wondering now where/how the hell she got that black eye... a previous DJ? Bwah ha ha!

OK, it was fun. And I'd like to do it again simply for the adventure and the learning experience. A good excuse to learn this new music that I can't stand to listen to. But hey, it's different when you're DJing... and you have 100 people on the dance floor going wild over a song... a song you know is stupid and annoying to you in any other setting except this one.

Busy Weekend of DJing

2008-12-12T06:38:00.000-08:00

Being a DJ is a fun job. It's an up-and-down kind of job too. I do a lot of weddings. People book me for weddings months in advance. This is a good thing. I collect a deposit and then plan out my year based on my bookings. All that changes in the "slow season" which starts in November and continues through April. Of course in December and January you get a lot of last-minute bookings... holiday parties, fill-in jobs at bars and clubs... happens every year around this time. Good thing too because Christmas is only about two weeks away and I still have lots of gifts to buy and no money to buy them with.

So this weekend is the fill-in/last-minute job weekend. I started out last week with one job - a Saturday evening wedding reception. Now I have FOUR DJ gigs between Thursday and Saturday night.

Last night (Thursday) I DJ'd at Stan & Joe's Saloon on West Street Annapolis. It was my third time there in the past 12 months -each time as a fill-in when a band backed out or there was a schedule snafu. It's a cool place. It reminds me of how Acme Bar & Grill was "back in the day" when I ruled the roost there. Acme is totally different now but that's another story. Anyway, it's been a while since I had a regular weekly DJ gig to go to. Ever since I quit Heroes back in July -yeah, yet another story we'll have to chat about some time. The weekly bar gig is tough -especially when it's a Thursday night and you have to get up on Friday and go to the day job. One nice thing though is the regular flow of spending money. I miss that. So does Asa. She hates to be alone at night and I know sometimes I'm hard to deal with the next day when I'm tired from the night before. But if I were to DJ a regular weekly gig again, it would probably be Stan & Joe's. It wasn't that crowded at all last night -maybe because of the dropping temperature and the torential downpour of rain- but I had a good time. Everyone had a good time. It's always nice to hear "Man, you should DJ here more often." from the staff as you're loading out. I even had a few patrons praise my mad DJ skills -that's always nice, but sometimes you gotta take that kind of input with a grain of salt. A drunk person will declare you the greatest DJ in the world and all you had to have done is play his favorite song right before last call. Wow. But when you have the bartenders and the manager giving you the approving nod, well that means a little more.

I don't profress to be the greatest DJ that ever played in Annapolis, but I truly believe I'm uniquely different because I really love and appreciate the music and I approach my job as being to play what the people want to hear while, at the same time, mixing in music that'll move them to a different place or emotion. I'm good at that -mixing music together. I have an uncanny ability to mix or group songs together to create a vibe that affects people. I don't think there's many other DJs around town that can do that as well as I can. And I know there's nobody who cares about music like I do. Maybe it's because I'm a songwriter and musician too. Maybe it's my compulsive tendancy to always try to please everyone. And I say this with the greatest humility... I'm a really nice guy. I don't stand behind my mixer and act all cool and aloof just because I'm the DJ. I welcome requests and conversations with patrons. I try to make a connection with them. And I think folks really appreciate that -even if it's more on a subconscious level. That's part of the problem with drunk people. They're you're best friend in that moment but they don't really "get" how talented you really are. Sometimes neither does the management. DJing IS AN ART. Most people -most DJs- don't get that.

So tonight I'll be DJing at a new bar/restaurant in Annapolis. I actually played live there years ago with my band (when the place had a different name and different owners) but I've never DJ'd there. It's an upscale Italian restaurant called Pesce (PESH-ay) - it means "Fish". There's another local DJ who is "in" with the management and DJs there a lot. At the last minute, the owner decided to start a new promotion "College Night - 18 & Over" - and he decided to start it a week early. So this DJ who normally works there already had another party booked and he sent out an email asking if anyone wanted to fill-in. And so here I go. It will probably be dead there since it's not in a busy part of town and it's a brand new promotion. Still I'm curious to see what it's like in there now that it's gone upscale. If the management/staff are nice and the atmosphere is accomodating, perhaps I can turn that into a regular gig.

And that brings us to one of the strangest DJ gigs I've ever booked... Saturday afternoon I will be DJing at Nordstrom's in the Annapolis Westfield Mall. Don't ask me any specifics because I don't know squat. Don't know what type of music, where exactly I'm setting up, why I'm playing, etc. All I know is it pays $400 and I'm hoping it's an easy opportunity for some extra money before my wedding that evening at Paul's on the South River. So maybe I'll have some good stories from these gigs to blog about.

Welcome to the Blog

2008-12-11T15:58:00.000-08:00

Yeah, I had to see what all the fuss about blogs was all about. And lately it seems there's been a lot on my mind that I don't mind sharing with others -especially after reading some of the thoughts of other people "out there" in Internet Land.

So I'm a DJ/Singer/Songwriter/Husband/Father and I have a day job working for HP -yeah the computer folks.

Actually, I have to DJ tonight in Annapolis so I don't have a lot of time to chat right now but at least I got this blog thing "wheels up".