The Boys From the Fifth Floor

I am so proud of these guys. They even made the local paper.

Brian, Kai and Greg have a dream. Right now, it's kind of a funky, slightly less-than-perfect dream, but a dream nonetheless.

Live Mix has been host to mine and Greg's big 5-0 birthday parties and all the Velvet Brother reunions. Speaking to Vel-bro Al on Wednesday, I said, "That makes four Velvet gigs, right?"

He paused, rolled the thought around his head and then answered: "I'm not sure you would call those gigs."

That sent us laughing. Never underestimate Al's sense of humor because that statement has a lot of implications.

I have know the Live Mix guys for a number of years now, Greg being the longest. When I first took the retro-vader up to floor five, it was your typical musician's rehearsal space: clutter everywhere. Brian was in a hard rock group (for lack of a better descriptive term) and his band had all their stuff set up. Listening to some tapes of his band, I realized how far afield my nylon string mellowness sounded a bit Kenny-G-ish along side their aggressive sound. The place had that young, male, musician frat kind of vibe. It was pretty disorganized, to be polite. I thought it was a great rehearsal space, but didn't imagine it would last this long.

Things have changed. The place has a great vibe and looks great. For musicians, it's a great place because it's being run by musicians. That fact alone makes it very appealing.

I like all the wacky incongruity: Custom speakers from the 70's, albums line the walls, a bit of this and a bit of that.

Lots of people have ideas. Ideas abound. It's really saying something when you commit to an idea and make it work. That's exactly what has happened here.

So, congrats, guys.

http://www.dailymail.com/Entertainment/200908261044

Musicians create multimedia studio downtown
Studio hosts live events, can seat 100 people
by Monica Orosz
Daily Mail staff

Tom Hindman
Brian Young, at soundboard, Greg Wegmann, to his left, and Kai Haynes, at rear, opened Live Mix Studio in space on Quarrier Street two years ago and began outfitting it with hand-me-down and scavenged equipment and furnishings. But bringing together decades of experience with music and technology, they offer multimedia production services and host musical events.


CHARLESTON, W.Va. -- A trip up the elevator at 1033 Quarrier Street to the fifth floor is a bit of a time warp experience - a step back in time blended with modern technology.
The space, outfitted on the thinnest of shoestrings - and perhaps some out-and-out trashpicking - is home to Live Mix Studio LLC.

It is a place where $2 light fixtures, hand-me-down 1970s Kustom brand speakers, patched-together computer equipment and a hand-me-down video program from a DJ are used for audio-video wizardry.

The guys behind Live Mix are Kai Haynes, 59; Greg Wegmann, 50; and Brian Young, 41. All three are longtime musicians. Wegmann and Young have added computer and video expertise from their day jobs. When they began this venture two years ago, the idea was to create a space where they could offer multimedia services and have a little musical fun.

Want a music video? They can do that. Want to produce an infomercial? They can do that, too. Need an old VHS tape converted to DVD? Yup.

They're currently editing some dance footage for January Johnson's dance academy and recently completed an infomercial for a guy who invented a hat he calls the Bi-Vi - two visors patched together so there's a bill on the front and the back.

"He's a construction worker and his ears were getting sunburned," Haynes explained.
They helped Charleston resident Donna Edmondson, a former Hee Haw Honey of the television show "Hee Haw," convert some VHS tapes and update some footage for her Web site.
The equipment may not look fancy, but it does the job.

"We can do multi-track recording up to 16 tracks," Wegmann pointed out. "We're trying to go global," he adds, and he's not really kidding. What the heck, this is the Internet age.
The space itself is surprisingly conducive to good sound, with acoustic tile ceilings, carpeting and large sets of bookcases their landlord stipulated had to stay.

"It actually creates one of the greatest (sound) disbursement walls," Young said.

Live Mix has hosted musical events such as Deni Bonet's recent visit back to West Virginia and last weekend's gig with Option 22 and The Clementines. Canadian Fingerstyle Champion guitarist Craig D'Andrea has been there twice.

The space includes several rooms that offer seating - a patchwork of folding chairs, scavenged sofas and donated barstools - for about 100 people.

Equipment came together from a variety of sources - it's amazing what people will give you if you ask.

"A lot of times someone will say, 'Can you fix this?' If you can fix it, you can have it,' " Young said.

The circa-1970s Kustom speakers, used in a room off the main stage, are perfectly serviceable, if clunky as all get out.

"They're so big, they don't fit in a conventional car anymore," Young said. A sound board came from a church. Other speakers and microphones came from the musicians' own cache of supplies.
A giant boardroom table was cut down for the stage. A large screen behind is used for screening a program that changes colors and shapes as the musicians play. It's a somewhat antiquated program Young got from a DJ, but it works.

"It's some old DOS program," he said, loading it up on an old laptop - Wegmann contributed that. "Don't make fun of my Windows '95," he cheerfully added.

Mind the decorative touches, too - colorful cellophane tones down harsh fluorescent lights and a 75-cent leopard-print lampshade adds a touch of whimsy to a floor lamp. Old album covers - remember those? - are tucked into shelves that line rooms.

"And we're looking for a turntable, if anyone has one to donate," Young said.

The control room is a tangle of screens, soundboards and cords.

"We are active recyclers of crap," Young said.

They find a use for most things they dig up. An early 1980s projector stands atop a refrigerator in one room, ready to flip on during a performance. If a visitor has popped in to get a drink, he can still see the band's performance projected on the wall.

"It has been an adventure," Young said. "It's almost like electric Lincoln Logs."

Contact writer Monica Orosz at http://www.dailymail.com/Entertainment/contact/zbavpn+qnvylznvy+pbz+return=/Entertainment/200908261044 or 304-348-4830.
FYI
For information on Live Mix Studio services and events, e-mail http://www.dailymail.com/Entertainment/contact/yvirzvkfghqvb+tznvy+pbz+return=/Entertainment/200908261044 or call Kai Haynes, 304-345-9145; Greg Wegmann, 304-395-0675; or Brian Young, 304-342-1244.

Even More!

I don't know what's happened at the university, but the message I'm getting is: DON'T PARK ANYWHERE YOU BASTARD!

2009
Fall Semester
Parking Guidelines

Students, faculty and staff may park on campus after properly registering their vehicle and by displaying an authorized University parking permit. Students may obtain their parking permit in the Student Solutions Center in Room # 206 Riggleman Hall. Faculty and Staff may obtain their permit from the Security Office, Room # 104 in Geary Student Union. Student permits are to be placed on the bottom, right-hand corner of the rear windshield outside of the vehicle. Faculty/Staff will receive mirror hang tags. Permits must be displayed in the designated spot at all times while on campus. Only one permit will be issued per vehicle. Expired permits are not valid and should be removed. Vehicles displaying expired permits will be cited for “no permit”.

Permits

Faculty/Staff (F/S) - Purple and white hang tag
One tag is issued per employee and it may be transferred to multiple cars. A validation sticker will be issued each academic period and must be affixed to the hang tag. Validation stickers can be obtained at the Security Office in GSU Room 104. Newly registered F/S members will be provided a current validation sticker along with their new hang tag.

Commuter Students – Red
Each commuter student will be issued no more than two parking permits.

Freshman Residential Students - Dark Green
All freshman residential students will receive an assigned parking permit. The parking lots for these students are located at Triana Field and NiSource (see attached map). Security cameras are in place to provide added protection for students and vehicles. Security will also conduct routine car patrols, especially during the night hours and provide escorts if needed.

Resident Students – Dark Blue
Each resident student will be issued one parking permit.

Shuttle service will be available to and from these lots on Monday – Friday between the hours of 7 a.m. and 7 p.m. Clinical faculty and students traveling to and from clinical sites are encouraged to use the campus shuttle during weekdays.

When the shuttle van is not operating students may call the Safety & Security Department’s 24 hour voice pager, 304.348.0001 to request an escort to and from a lot.

Assigned parking guidelines:

Monday through Friday between the hours of 8 a.m. and 6 p.m. the (assigned) vehicles must be parked at either the 19th Street parking lot or the NiSource parking lot.

Assigned vehicles may be parked on other campus lots at the following times:

- Weekday evenings from 6 p.m. - 8 a.m.
- Weekends - beginning Friday evening at 6 p.m. and ending Monday morning at 8 a.m.

Vehicles with an assigned parking pass on other campus lots Monday-Friday from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. will be ticketed and/or towed.

More Orders From On High

I submit, without alteration, this email. It needs no explanation.

From: Rinchich, Jack

Sent: Tuesday, August 25, 2009

1:28 PMTo: Admin; faculty

Subject: 2009 - 2010 Parking Permits (Faculty & Staff)

Importance: High

SPECIAL INFORMATION REGARDING F/S PARKING PERMITS

Faculty and Staff members (who have been issued a Purple and White mirror hang tag) do not need to complete a new blue registration form unless there has been some change in their vehicle status. Note: To (update) your existing F/S hang-tag simply bring your hang-tag to the Security Office to obtain a small (2009-2010) validation sticker to be placed over the old date on your hang-tag. Hang-tags not displaying the 2009-2010 validation sticker will be regarded as “EXPIRED” and cited accordingly. All (old decal) Faculty/ Staff permits that stick to the outside of the window are “OBSOLETE” and “INVALID” . Cars displaying the old decal permits will be cited as having “No Permit”.

New Faculty / Staff members or existing Faculty / Staff members (who have not been issued a purple and white hang-tag) must complete a blue registration form and bring it to the Security Office to obtain both a new hang-tag (and a 2009-2010 validation sticker).

Faculty / Staff members are the only persons issued a (mirror hang-tag). All student permits are window decals. Students must obtain their permits from the Student Solutions Center in Riggleman Hall. All Faculty / Staff permits are issued at the Campus Security Office. Note: The new location of the Security Officer is on the 1st floor of GSU (adjacent to the Bookstore). All Faculty / Staff members are encouraged to register their vehicles as soon as practical. A (very short) window or grace period will be provided to accomplish this. After this brief grace period patrol officers will be issuing citations for “No Permit”.

(FYI) During routine patrols this week it has been observed that some (empty parking spaces) have been available on the (Brotherton Hall Parking Lot). As an option you may wish to check the Brotherton Hall Lot for possible empty parking spaces if other areas are full.

Thank you!

Chief Jack Rinchich
Dept. of Safety & Security

Saw this on Boing-Boing.

Finally, lyrics I can sink my teeth into! A website after my own skin.

Note: there is an annoying attribution given to zombies that they are only interested in brains. That was caused by the Living Dead series. Zombies will eat any part of you.

Despite the numerous attempts by independent filmakers to join the ranks, there remains only one king of zombie flicks. But, what the hell, this is fun. Plus I like the references to the Dawn of the Dead.

"Rippin' Off Your Skin"

To the tune of "Blowin' In The Wind" by Bob Dylan

How many lobes must a ghoul gulp down

Before he eats the whole brainpan?

How many skulls must a sniper nail

Before her rifle has jammed?

Yes, n' how many bites must I take of this guy

Before I've digested his hand?

The zombies my friend, are rippin' off your skin

The zombies are rippin' off your skin

Yes, n' how many folks must cease to exist

Before it's called a "killing spree"?

Yes, n' how many years in this mall can we subsist

'Til we're forced by bikers to flee?

Yes, n' how many towns must shamblers infest

Before they all turn to debris?

The zombies my friend, are rippin' off your skin

The zombies are rippin' off your skin

Zombaritaville

Facing the Monster

Did some great practicing over the weekend; something that becomes all too rare. There's always some little thing getting in the way. Plus, the metronome drives my wife insane. She even suggested that I go down to the university to practice.

What?

You mean leave the house to go to a private room where I can totally concentrate on nothing but a gee-tar? Holy shit. That only happens during the school year when students cancel or just blow off a lesson. She must have another guy on the side to suggest such bliss.

I know what some of you are saying: big fucking deal. You sit and play a stupid guitar. That's nothing special. Well, I agree, but bliss and hardship are in the details.

Every time you pick up a guitar, you're about to learn something. Probably something about yourself.

Sometimes it feels like music is speaking through it: hands and instrument are one. Other times, the hands are heavy and the guitar seems like a stick with rubber bands on it. Useless. There is no meeting of the two and certainly music is just a hollow exercise. Sure, we play, but what comes out is meaningless, full of cliches and tasteless.

Practice is a very private thing to me. It is both work and meditation. I have to have solitude of some sort in order for it to be effective. True, I can tune out a TV, even conversations in the background if forced to do so. At least, most conversations.

On Saturday, my wife had a friend over and they doing some paper work. Soon the snippy comments came wafting into the kitchen.

"That clicking noise drives me insane."

"Yes, that tick tick tick. Argh!"

"Play a song, Jim."

I understand their point of view. This is monotonously brutal to listen to. Who wants to hear a passage repeated over and again? There's a devil of a passage in the Bach I'm working up. Son of bitch, if it ain't the left hand stumbling, then it's the right getting confused. Being of German heritage, I am not prone to giving up; digging my heels in deep. Slowly, tediously, I go over every possible combination to make sure the passage is as simple to play as possible. Experience has taught me that complexity and live playing are not mutually compatible.

Hans Zimmer, regarding starting a new film score, spoke about not having to "face the monster head on"- the new and ever challenging task of writing original music. He likes to talk with the director before writing a single note. Players, on the other hand, cannot escape the monster, no matter what they tell themselves. There is no end run, not short cut.

I admire players who simply sit down and play without having to ever worry about the minutiae of technique. I also mistrust this notion tremendously.

So, every time I sit down with the old git box, the fingers work their way through simple exercises, scales, arpeggios, slurs, chord inversions with metronome ticking madly away. These are not optional, they are the foundations for the music that I hope will flow from clunky fingers.

So, I will "play a song" for ya.

After Mr. Metronome says its ok.

Getting Hung Up

What do you do when you are divorced, coaching a losing high school basketball team, living in a tent because of a fire, have hateful neighbors who regularly call the police on you and your self-esteem sinks hourly usually ending up in binge drinking?

Why, you become a male prostitute, of course.

Thus the premise of HBO's charming half-hour series called Hung. Ray Drecker, played by Thomas Jane, during a shoddy become-a-millionaire seminar (taught by a fraud who rents his sports car and hits on his "students") is asked, "What is your talent, Ray? What is your one special gift?"

Bingo. Ray is hung.

After a drink-fest, he sleeps with his frumpy friend-with-really-occasional-benefits, Tanya and after experiencing Ray's gift, she comes up with the crazy idea that they could market his talents. Thus, Happiness Consultants is born.

Tanya is no gem either. A poet with writer's block and serious mother issues, dressing in Goodwill-yard sale-boho garments, she constantly has to bolster Ray's ever-growing belief that his life will be anything other than dire and penniless.

I would not tell you that this is HBO's finest material, but the characters are so well done and the story lines never step outside of the bounds of the probable. Ray and Tanya are just two lost souls, both searching for love, a sense of accomplishment, a rightful place in the world, and a decent shot at happiness. Sounds like just about everyone you know, right?

Oh, you want to know about the sex stuff.

Sex is more humor than steam and certainly not the center of the series. Last night, one whackjob client of Ray's kept repeating the F Bomb that had me in stitches. Wacko clients abound and one had Ray falling for Jemma, played by Natalie Zea. Beautiful, but more messed up than a soup sandwich.

Just like Ray and Tanya's lives. That's why we watch, no?

Welcome Back Old Buddy

Dex is back! Yay!

Wait a minute! What am I saying? This guy is a psychopathic serial killer who must release his inner demons by killing. How did I end up rooting for a serial killer?

This is the paradox all Dexter fans must cheerfully embrace.

Dexter is not all bad (Even that statement drips with irony). He is protective of his sister, his girlfriend and her children; people he claims to love. Love is not a real emotion for him. Like all true sociopaths, he mimics the emotions he see around him. He is a predator through and through.

The key to the success of this show, in my not-so-humble opinion, is that actor Michael C. Hall understates his dark persona. There is no grand display of frothing at the mouth madness, no howling at the moon. Nay. Dexter is in control. Mostly. He follows a code given to him by his father who recognized Dex's dark predilections at an early age. In short, satisfy that primal urge after extensive planning and preparation. Another part of the code is to select only bad guys-scum who have committed terrible crimes and so far have eluded justice.

The dialogue and supporting cast are strong as well. Jimmy Smits is a new addition to the cast.

Spoiler alert: If you haven't watched the Third Season yet, read no further.

I warned you.

We have just begun to watch the season and already the action keeps shifting. Dex is actually making it with his girlfriend, an issue in the first season. He has bonded with her kids. In a grocery store, he sees a stranger talking to her little girl. Instantly, he senses another predator like himself. Needless to say, Dexter no like and eventually....well.... Let's just say it's not pretty.

So, Dexter is back. The neighborhood is safe.

Safe as a burning building.

Eye Candy

div>

"I talk in pictures, not in words." PG

Wikipedia has the most astonishing collection photos that are posted daily. I obsessively collect them. I have no real purpose, but think they would be a real hoot as a backdrop to a live music concert.

So, with no purpose, in submit them for your approval. Text by John Cage.

Pictures of a City

Chaos Thy Space

Define the space;

organize the space;

protect the space;

hold the space. -RF

Space is the place. -Unidentified stoner.

If Fripp could see the average Velvet setup, he would hold that chaos only breeds chaos. He would be so right, but how do you get eight guys on a small stage not to feel like they are on an NY subway at rush hour?

Defining and organizing the space is crucial. One bitch about being in a band is when you set up all your stuff, and then you are told to move. I swear to you that in one band in particular, no matter where I set up, it was the band leader's hidden sadistic intention to always wait until I had everything up and running, then to tell me to move it all. Near the end of my rope and just about the time I was getting ready to drop out of the scene, one request was met with a few sarcastic remarks. I think he was very surprised to hear me verbalize my anger as he seemed a bit shocked. But, to be honest, he had to know of his intention and frankly I was sick of it. I had done this cheerfully for years before I had caught on to the little power games that musicians play.

Protect Thy Axe. At the V-gig, I tried to sit quietly and warm up. Some kid with blond hair instantly started asking me about my guitar, do I play any Carlos Barbosa-Lima and could he play it? For fuck's sake, this was my time. While normally, I politely decline loaning my instrument to anyone whom I do not know, not to be a dick, I let him play. He went through the usual variety of start-stop, half classicalish, half jazzish fragments while repeatedly telling me that finger style was not his thing. After this diversion, I asked for my guitar back and just when hands were being warmed up, it was show time. There went crucial time spent getting nerves under control.

True story: I was standing outside talking to a student right after a lesson. This older looking student came over and started talking to us and the conversation got around to guitars.

"Do you mind if I look at your guitar?"

"Yes. In fact, I have to get going."

"But it's only going to take a minute. What kind is it?"

I was in no mood to see yet again someone take my beloved guitar into their untrustworthy hands. I wince at the thought.

Finally he kept pushing me and pushing me:"Sir, by the time we have spent talking about this, you could have shown me." Pushy bastard.

Don't push me. Ever. I dig my heels into the earth so deep you won't get them to move. "Listen, I choose who I let see my guitar, you don't decide that for me, ok?" I am sure my face and eyes were sending daggers at that point because even my student clammed up and a most pregnant silence remained.

honour necessity;

honour sufficiency.

I don't know how all these Fripp entries affect you, oh gentle readers, but they have a profound effect on me sometimes. Last night was a good example. The Bistro gig is a three hour guitar marathon with master Kennedy. It was superb last night on all levels. I would say that the first two hours were magical. The third hour, I could feel a little wear and tear. Fatigue is inevitable and the resultant lack of focus, but still, it is a joy to play with someone so good. We communicate almost telepathically. It is really freaky when it all comes together.

These Fripp words of necessity and sufficiency were full in my mind as we played. Don't overplay-keep it simple. What is necessary? Only do that. Or in common parlance: lay back and keep a simple groove.

Come to relaxation.

This is of great value for a player like me who must go through a time of settling before the quality of playing becomes reasonable. Relaxing is a conscious action. Letting go can only happen when we are aware that we are not. Kind of a pickle, ain't it? Last night, I ran those words through my mind and found areas of the right shoulder and arm being tense. It is so easy and unnoticeable for tension to come into our bodies.

Attracted attention - energy is sucked out of us; eg at newstands.

Hostility and ill-will: an inevitable consequence of public life.

Hostility and ill-will are a part of being in public. The Bistro is not a place where I have found either. Certainly in bars, there is always the drunken moron who tries to challenge or belittle the band while setting up: "I still ain't heard a goddam note yet!" Or the classic: Do ya'll play any Skeenerd?" Then shock and disbelief that this is not part of the set list for the evening. Usually these clowns are so juiced that they call it an early night well before the band plays.

Certainly the radio work has been a source of this. People have many reasons for being hostile assholes, but none of them matter. This is not personal, radio is just a service-entertainment for the masses. We have one flaming asshole who relentlessly criticizes my work and sends his bitter, caustic emails, which border on personal attacks, every six weeks or less. I cannot imagine how horrible it must be to be him. He is a toad. A snipey little toad. He seeks my attention like a child.

Attracted attention - energy is sucked out of us. People like that have no more purpose in life than to make everyone as miserable as they. I have no energy for it. I have made my peace with it and have moved on.

Cultivate goodwill. Plainly put, you have to. The mind goes places that the body never wishes to go. Attention must be fluid, but focused and not drifting (the monkey mind), but of all these, one's emotional center must be concerned with: people are not out to get you. Though this may sound corny, a great man stated it and it is one of the wisest ever written:

Love bears all things.

At the center, must be love. This will bring us through.

Even though the drunken buttheads, the nasty emails and the constant shadow of doubt.

So, thanks again, Bobby from Dorset.

Be Thy Own Velvet

There's been much activity in Velvet Land oh my brothers and sisters, so let's straight to a quick synopsis. Hoorah.

Velvet Reunion no. 4 went well musically considering Live Mix studio was an oven. I bet temps reached over 100, if not the high 90's. It was a sweat fest. Personally, I have come to this old familiar music with a new joy and sense of purpose. We were crammed in like dripping clams, but I surrendered myself to the music. You have to or otherwise, why do it at all?

It's a strange gig. People actually just watch and listen. I'm not used to that. You'd figure we would be happy for such an attentive audience, but Velvets are used to entertaining in shall we say, a much more relaxed environment such as a drunk-ass crowd in a bar or private party.

From a playing perspective, my chops weren't as high as they could have been. I just couldn't get my right hand to relax at first. I usually have lots of adrenaline surging through me during the first three to four songs and it never quite settled down. In truth, more regular practice is the solution. With work and all the little errands of the evening, practice is tough to squeeze in.

I am impervious to worrying about band politics. Little petty things have started to arise, and I have not taken any of them seriously. I am here for music, not politics. The general mood is one of cooperation and goodwill. So far, so good.

From an entertainment perspective, the old Johnny Velvet (my alter ego) was brought out. It was fun and the crowd seemed to enjoy the stupid cheesy songs and the hamming it up on the sweat stage. I am doing Johnny sometimes and I don't even know it.

Of course, Mr. Craig brought his fine, fine rums. Oh that life should be so sweet all the time.

Played with Mr. Super Fingers on Wednesday. For a while, I didn't get a call to play with Ryan at the Bistro for a while. After a time, you begin to wonder. Was it something I did??? When you play, you bond on a personal level because of the intimate nature of music making. But since I have returned to the front lines after a very long and deserved break, my attitude has been very pragmatic and wholly better. We musicians are all on each other's lists. Players always going to get shuffled around. It's nothing personal, just the way it is. So if I hear about a band that was put together for a wedding and I wasn't invited to play, I don't get upset anymore.

"It's just the nature of da business we're in." Come and go. One slot filled, another empty.

Playing music in a upscale restaurant/bar is another animal altogether. Some listen, most don't. There might be polite applause or even enthusiastic recognition. You never know. Ryan has developed a following there because it is his gig; he is the weekly host. And because he is so incredibly gifted. Last week, we were invited to sit at some upscale patrons and my how they flutter about him.

It is both intense and fun. This is not an auto-pilot gig at all. You must bring your A game with Mr. Fleet O'Finger, oh yes. No coffee-to-stay-awake snooze fest. Although he is very accommodating to all requests and owner/patron satisfaction is number one, our set list has some odd ones. Curiously, we play The Sheltering Sky by King Crimson (and Frame By Frame) and it has received positive attention. I would have never figured that in a million years. I am always happy when he calls those tunes, but sort of wait for the ceiling to drop.

Multi-Sweat Fest. We were treated to a one a hour and forty-five minute sound fiasco before our short 32 minute set. Tired, overheated, annoyed, but we carried on like pros. Perhaps it was poetic justice that the newspaper carried a photo of the event and even noted the horrendo sound problems. The dudes were fucking up big time. I felt sorry for the audience. I can handle a crappy mix, but hope that a decent one is being sent to innocent listeners. A tape of the mix proved to be as horrible as we thought. And then some. Great debut. Thanks, professional sound guys.

There was a bit of grumbling behind the scenes as I think a few players were a bit confused as to the direction of the music. Are we jazz? Thought we were a jazz group? In the end, the joy of music making smoothed all the rough edges. This was not the Johnny Velvet show. Nay. This was a bold experiment by the band leader. I have to give him credit for having the vision to put this together. He also could have pitched a bitch fit at the sound guys, but he remained professional.

One aside. Your indulgence please.

"Are you in a band?" came the question from the girl at Blockbuster. I have to admit I hadn't heard that one in nearly two decades.

"Yes. Sort of." As a rule, I avoid long answers. That one would take hours.

"I think I saw you on TV." Ah, TV, the magic bullet. No matter what it is, if you are on TV, you become someone. I find it bizarre, but think it true.

"I saw you and I said I totally know that guy."

Yep. I am totally that guy.

Whatever the hell that means.

Part-Time Disorientation

Am I being difficult? Most likely. Is it born from years of feeling unappreciated? Yes. Should I have left? This was a choice, but there has always been a scarcity of teaching positions. I may have left, not finding the position suitable to my perceived qualifications, but then no extra cash. There's the hard line.

A memo for a mandatory part-timers meeting has come from on high.

Mandatory? Really? Should I inform that I have been on the staff since 1987 and have seen presidents, provosts, administrators, teachers and many others come and go? Should I say that I have given the university untold hours of free PR for sixteen years by taking the guitar group into schools, coffee houses and concerts? That I have taught hundreds of kids and college students with nary a whisper of notice or (cough cough)praise from any adminstatione? Do these people even know anything?

Nope. Calm down, old boy. It's just an email. File this as another one under D for Disappointment.

Part=Time Faculty Orientation Required by Provost

Meeting will be held at two different times:

Wednesday, at a time when you work.

Wednesday, later, when you'd rather say you're doing something else.

You may groan and begrudgingly come to either session; both will be held in the Frankenstein Art Gallery. Please respond to Provost, noting which session you will attend. Or which you plan to blow off.

Mind numbing and trivial topics included:
· Provost-required syllabus template

· LLOs attached to courses (as appropriate)
· Semester calendar
· Grading procedures
· Technology available
· Library services available
· Administrivia – parking passes, security, coffee, etc.

Administrivia? Seriously? We are making words up now? And how do I connect parking to security to coffee??? I am lost. LLOs? Hmm. I must get a new dictionary of academic speak. I am confused. My syllabus has been fine for twenty-two years and now I must change it?

Ok. If I have to go, I'll go. But I will be grumbling.

Dammit.

You Freaks Get On the Bus

I have noticed as of late that Fripp has been expounded more than usual about Guitar Craft attendees being a little too off kilter to participate. He politely calls them "loonies." Like the time, during a Guitar Craft course, he awoke to find a young man in his room staring at him. For some reason, Fripp attracts weirdos. The whole thing started with that freaky cover for their first album. Rumors of satanic practice and heavy LSD use abounded; all of it preposterous. But still, you kind of set yourself up with that band name, album cover, and music that's experimental. It's not like they called themselves Lovely Lads and avoided freakdom altogether.

From my own experience of a four day GC course, I cannot imagine someone with a tenuous grasp of reality being able to handle the ten day courses. I was a musician of 36 years experience with a master's degree and I found the pressure enormous. Fripp takes you through the paces of his guitar system- utterly alien with it's own tuning, method of holding a pick, and the introduction of advanced rhythmic and ensemble techniques. In short, it is sui generis.

Evidently, more loonies are taking these courses.

"it may be that there are others who aren't suitable for the OCG who attend. i intend to address this formally in the near future. the quick answer is, we don't have professionally accredited behavioural psychologists & therapists on our staff. so, our required standard of participation is normal-abnormal. "

Translation: we ain't got head shrinkers, man. We gots to screen the squirrels.

"hernan & i discussed, at the airport before i left, the problems we have with disturbed characters on courses. the amount of energy needed to contain one person, and europe has had compulsives, paranoids, manic depressives & substance abusers as regular attendees, has undermined what i see as our proper work. we accept everyone as they arrive, but the standard of acceptance is now normal-abnormal."

Line them up when they get there and put them into N and ABN groups. Tell the ABNs that they are going on a little field trip first and promptly drop them off at the airport. Politely refund their money and say, "Take care. Shine on, you crazy diamonds."

"There is drug & alcohol damage. Circuits have been fried. I don’t see this as frequently as I used to, when drug use was widespread among many of the young people who attended courses: almost as if I have a right! there are no consequences! Participants nowadays tend to be more mature, and less druggy. Possibly our clear statement on drug use is part of the falling-off of drug-using applicants."

Anyone who could go through a GC course stoned to the bone and does well, has my admiration.

"It was once, seemingly, believed that there were little or no repercussions from regular drug use. What I see, standing in the middle of the Guitar Circle, is a dis-connection between the mind & the body: they don’t quite seem to talk to each other; co-ordination is not. The body is, usually, able to move in established patterns but unable to grasp & respond to new patterns being presented. The mind holds a pattern & leads the way: the mind leads the hands. Or, as often on this course, not."

Every form of refuge has its price.

I once taught a student at the university that was clearly on something. No matter what transpired the week before, the kid came in the next week a complete blank. No matter the simplest exercise or chord, he struggled to get it. Slowly, the light would go on, but then next week, it was as if we had not had that lesson at all-a complete blank.

I eventually asked him point blank if he was using. His answer was no, but his mind was in perma-fog. Sad. He dropped out. Big surprise.

Everything I saw at the Guitar Craft session suggested to me that Fripp has control over every aspect of his life and he lives it as a meditation. His mind is keenly focused- abright, glowing thing to behold. I feel that he is intellectually vain in spades. I would lay any bet that he has never, ever taken any recreational drugs in his life.

Perhaps he should start.

In order to handle the freaks.