Saturday, March 29, 2008

Thursday, March 27, 2008

Weird Times Three

I get dozens of emails, not doubt you do too, from scammers who want me to depart with the pathetic amount of money I possess in order to expediate some money out of Nigeria or [insert overseas country here.]

I get what these scammers are doing, but what is the purpose of this email? No doubt some malicious trojan or virus was attached, but failed to launch.

Goedendag,

Hohe hoholulu


Or distressed him in any degree. Among those porters at ourmeeting is accepted. The lord ... Will technicalities that may be mastered by a careful take some time, and i meanwhile was allowed to them you must all come and see our schools,he an armie gowinge thorough suspected places, or and foremostwarriors of their own class, slew part.


Deeply pierced,o monarch, with that arrow stone. The mightyarmed son of pandu, however, are a few things that you can do with mostproject among men, the five royal brothers, the princesfailing health. For several weeks after his arrival growin'?samson demanded. Brimstead came closer are a fine pair of battledores with which charlatans interpretations of the vedas, he that has no superior.


Ch-ch-changes
Oh, look out you rock n rollers
Pretty soon now youre gonna get a little older



Wednesday, March 26, 2008

A Moment of Zen

http://filebox.vt.edu/users/phwillia/look/811997_m.GIF

Of all the crazy things I've seen on the world wide wacky web, this one remains a favorite. Why this kid is wearing that wacky outfit and rocking out with a banjo is way beyond comprehension. And that poor girl in the background.

Who Is This?

Look closely at this computer rendering of a very famous person. Who is it? Don't cheat. Think about it before you click.
My intial impressions:
Looks like a pro wrestler type to me. Big bruiser of a guy. Looks like the words, "I wanna bust some heads!" would sound very natural coming out of his mouth.
When you want to know and read a fascinating article click here.
Were you surprised?

Sunday, March 23, 2008

We Are the Professionals...


The Back Story
Back in the lost mists of time, I was a young lad at West Liberty State, my music education professors would always end up starting sentences the same way: (best to pinch your nose and read aloud for a true sarcastic effect, my gentle readers)

"When you are professionals, ladies and gentlemen... Or "As professionals, ladies and gentlemen..." It was like they had all memorized the same trite intros to lectures all designed to teach young men and women how to survive the horrors of the public school system. Preach as much education theory at me as you want, these perilous pits were not for me. Call me pretentious, but an artist's perspective is what I possess. Not a great artist, but an artist nonetheless. I just couldn't see then the value of teaching when I couldn't play very well.

Nay to the horrors of being a band director and neither for the elementary school teacher. Being an auslander, that is, I never played a band instrument, so trotting about a football field in a hideous uniform was not something I had done, nor wanted. I was there to learn about the noble guitar-the chasm between band/elementary music and the works of Bach and Villa-Lobos was too wide. Music theory, ear training, history? OK. Music education? Part of the deal. My parents always said, "You can always fall back on teaching." Good advice, but I wanted only to be a good musician and to be a "professional."

Now that twenty-two years have passed since I went from amateur to pro, reflections upon these events came into focus recently as the Dynamic Duo were called out for a wedding. So rare, it was a pleasure to play again.

Hang Out Yer Shingle
[Doesn't Vanna White look lovely?]

Professional, in its most limited meaning, means that you get paid for playing. It also means you smile graciously when things go wrong. When awkward things are said, the social graces kick in. You keep playing, despite a million distractions. And when the inevitable mistakes are made, recovery is quick and smooth (hopefully).

And toughest of all: to bite your tongue, to acquiesce completely to the wishes (and personality) of the client-however idiotic or snobbish. Case in Point:
Regardless of your day job, your education, your circle of friends, when you roll onto the private estate of Dame Matriarch, you are now shite. I have lost count of how many times I have watched a wealthy Mother of the Bride bully everyone from the caterer, the florist and musicians like she was Commander Lord God Bufoo of the World. Sir Patriarchs can be bad with their faux nonchalance about the apparent display of wealth: "Yeah...this is mine alright." But the men usually let the woman commando the wedding party while they sip a little single malt. I'm sure it helps.

Weddings are a necessary evil to me. Not that I dislike them per se, it's just that they are not really about artistry, but commerce. An easier commerce than other gigs. It's a Hassle versus Pay ratio the way I see it. The hassle of a nightclub or reception gig is thrice the hassle of a wedding ceremony. Though we play classical music, my chosen field, it is rare that one can fully enjoy the music because of so many distractions. How do we reconcile all this?

'Cause the dreams ain't broken down here now, they're walking with a limp

Some of my musician friends play in commercial ensembles. If they want to do that (or need to), then more power to them. It simply is not for me. Maybe that's a luxurious point of view, but isn't that what the day job is for?

I once got a call back in the 80's from some local musician who asked, "Do you want to play in a Top 40 band?"
Without a beat. "Nope." I didn't even ask who it was or what the band was.
A little irritated and with disbelief, he countered "So, you don't do that?"
"No."
Many, many fine musicians play in these ensembles, this is not to diss their abilities, but I can't see my way into that. Nope.

I may have lunch with Satan, but I am not about to join the family. I cannot fathom stomaching that awful music for the masses every night and having to fake enthusiasm. A band can easily take over everything in your life and that would be a monstrous transformation.

Being a pro doesn't mean being pukey about it. You can get all sorts of people to play your wedding. Get a vibe? Patrick has a big ole playlist. (Him and Johnny Winter's third cousin twice removed groove out in Eugene.)

In other words, there are folks who get really serious about this stuff. I will never leave a mark in the pages of music history, but certainly this seems to be a route which says to me: I cash in all my dreams to be a mercenary, to have no freedom, to have no creative life in music. Even for the money, how could anyone possibly find this a satisfying musical life? All that said, I am a hypocrite, but my hypocrisy only goes so far.

The Second Marriage
Back to the gig:
This lady who called me about the gig was so easy to work with. She said the magic words: second marriage. There are rarely Bridezillas in the second marriage category. They have already made at least two families and countless friends miserable the first time around and realizing that it was too much work, decide upon the simplest of ceremonies. I like those. Hassle Factor again.

The funniest thing about this was her musical choice for an old and moldy tune from the 70's called The Wedding Song. (When asking a person about what they want for music, you suddenly realize that years of doing nuptial events has paid more dividends than money. You steer them towards what you already do. Most of them have no clue and what we do is your basic meat and potatoes production. We already do...X. Here's why X will work. Hassle Factor.) She wanted it sung. I said, "Oh yes. No problem."

I told my partner what I had committed us to. At first she laughed. We had "history" with this cheesy nuptial favorite. When I first met her, it was at a wedding. No one had told me that this song was part of the service. Since she had her part memorized, could I play the chords? I agreed. I knew the key and so the rest would follow, right? Wrong! It was a train wreck. To this day, she ribs me about that terrible first impression. So much so, that that piece stays permanently in my guitar case (along with Almost Heaven-another high point of my career.). That will not be repeated.

"Ugh. Singing? I haven't sung for a while." My partner said this repeatedly.

Resistance? Yep. It ended up that I had to sing this at the wedding. (You see, singing this loungey tomato is real hypocrisy.) I didn't mind at all and surprisingly, I wasn't nervous.

Wedding Rule: Something Will Go Wrong (and Does)

We were scheduled to play for about 55 minutes and then do the Wedding Song as a cue to start. An hour had passed before someone informed us that (and I love this) "there would a bit of a delay." Saying there will be a BIT of a delay is like a speaker saying that his or her opening remarks will be brief. You might as well groan out loud because you are gonna be there much longer than you want to be. And so it was for us.


The guests were getting restless. Some began to munch on hors d'oeuvres. One kid ran around the room so fast that we thought for sure he was going to crash into the music stand. Parents, anyone? The bride, who had been a center of calm, now thought that maybe the music could allay the situation.

"Can you liven things up a bit?"

When she left, we gave each other that look that can only come between two seasoned wedding musicians. Liven up? This ain't no party reggae band. Flute and guitar, remember?


Meanwhile, the hyperactive boy kept running around the room. Eyes on the music were diverted to make sure the smash-up wasn't going to include our instruments. Keep playing, keep playing, kid running around the room.

Caterers, Musicians and Preachers

All are equal at the second wedding. No difference. Between songs, the minister started to take us into his confidence. He'd give us an update on the really, really delayed family who were coping with slow traffic on the interstate.

Let's Get This Banana Lit, OK?

Suddenly, as it always is in the true wedding spirit of hurry-up-and-wait, suddenly, game was on. The Wedding Song was sung, vows were exchanged and one goof: the unity candle was knocked over. Thunk! came the sound from behind the minister. We knew that something went wrong. At the Second Wedding, recovery is quick. No problemo. We're hitched, baby! That's all that mattered.
The wrapup was quick and soon we were heading off the hill. My hands throbbing a bit from playing near an hour and a half without much break. A light rain made things a little hazy, but the day felt good.

Li-Li and I were back on the scene, clients were happy and the curse of the Wedding Song was lifted. I wondered what my old professors would think of me now: jaded, a little bit too complacent, yet still doing weddings. Yep. I am a pro. I'll do your wedding and do a great job regardless of the thousand distractions and misfires that nuptial events are heir to.

We are the professionals, ladies and gentlemen.

Some Outtakes




















Monday, March 17, 2008

Home Fires Burning

Lounge Times Magazine: "Johnny Velvet, what is your philosophy about music?"

JV: "Get the gig."

A colleague was talking today about a recent gig. There, while he was on stage performing, the next guy up was in another room rehearsing so loud that it ruined what he was trying to do.

"Didn't the guy realize what he was doing?"

"No. He's just so egotistical that he was wrapped up in what he was doing."

We spoke further about similar experiences with dickhead club owners who always tried to blackmail the band with a slew of veiled and not so veiled threats of pulling the plug on the gig.

My co-worker expressed a great truth:

"It got to a point where I'd say that we're going to pack everything up right now and leave you without a band tonight. That sure changed the club owner's attitude." He said once he had the freedom to say that, his whole attitude changed about playing live music forever. Double hell to the yeah, brother.

After a week of feeling a bit under appreciated in certain circles by a dismissive and arrogant individual, I started reflecting on what obligations were necessary and which were not. Playing in a band is one of those unecessary things.

By and large, I have quit the band-club scene for a number of years now. By God, never say never, but I am happy to be free of all the bullshit that inevitably comes with commercial music ensembles. I like making music, but I want to do it on my own terms. No dickhead club owner is going to act like I just stepped off a turnip truck and order the band around like they own them. Man, that was infuriating.

My foray into band world was relatively short, but it was enough to burn me out. It got so bad, that during songs, I would catch myself looking out the window of the club. Watching people out on the street, I'd think, "Please help me. I'm trapped in a band." The very last time I played in a club, it was horrible. I hid in a corner and tried to disappear. Whatever joy for this type of music making I once had, had dried up and an empty shell sat there with a guitar in its hands.

Some of my old band mates still play out in various groups. I see their pictures in the weekend where-to-go sections of the newspaper. I marvel at their enthusiasm, their smiling PR pictures, and for still playing in nightclubs and other venues. More power to them.

I thought about them while lounging next to a fire-another wonderful evening spent at home. No crowds, drunks, being shouted over and no dickhead club owners.
"My hypocrisy only goes so far."

Do I still play in a group. Yep. But it ain't the night clubbin' kind of gig group. It's a small electro-acoustic ensemble. I'm happy as a clam in it. No more torture, just music.

This weekend, my flautist buddy and I have a wedding. Is this hypocrisy? Yep. Money making liar? Yep. My hypocrisy only goes so far.

But the bullshit factor is down below detection.

Besides, friends can always come by. And enjoy the fire.

[Sir Charles Dickens is always good company and currently resides next to the fireplace.]

Sunday, March 16, 2008

The Duds of Buds



And it's been a long December and there's reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last

It's not their fault.

Every year they are misled like a sailor on leave. Promise, expectation and then "wham!"-it all goes wrong.

What of doth he speaketh?

Our Tulip tree. Year after year, the promise of spring is fed through warm weather. They start to follow nature's course.
Winter comes again and spoils everything. Kind of reminds me of certain people, yes?

So, all I ask, is for your good wishes that this year the buds will wait and NOT be tricked again.

When the tree fully blossoms, the aroma is heavenly-beyond description.

So...

wish that the buds

are not duds.

Not Faring Well, Part 1


Monday, March 10, 2008

The Boys Are Back in Town

The California Guitar Trio returns to C-Town this Thursday.

Do yourself a favor and go. There are many events in our small city and when it's cold, it's impossible to drag yourself out to them. This is one you have to see.

Info here: http://www.non-cents.com/cgt/
Listen to Bert Lams here: http://www.myspace.com/eclectopiaradio

Saturday, March 01, 2008