Kinda more sick now than at the last posting.
Had a Small Life Form show last night & there was some problem with half my pedal board not working (which seems to be an on-again-off-again problem for a year & a half). Rather than trying to fix it I just went with it half strength for fifteen-twenty minutes & called it a night. I was playing fifth on a line-up of five bands & while it’s cool to have a bunch of bands play, sometimes I think three bands is how many there should be. But I will say that the show ending around midnight with five bands was good. I did live optical feedback with a projection screen & haven’t looked back at the recording of it yet, but I need to check it out as if it’s cool enough to warrant it, I may buy a little projector as I saw some at Amazon for $100.
I have a ton of emails to go through from just sitting around being sick most of the time the past couple of days.
Last Night’s Dream (potential XO plot?)
I’m at a friend’s house that is one of those houses where people are always hanging out to the point you’re not sure who the technical residence are, but she’s the homeowner so I know she’s a resident. It’s gotten to the point in the night that it’s time to give up the idea to sleep & the only people up are me & my friend & some random guy. I’m making us all breakfast in the kitchen & I hear them starting to argue. He’s making some kind of threats about that her parents owe “them” a lot of money & they better come out of hiding. I grab the guy from behind locking up his arms & slam his face against the wall a few times (& I know how comedic it must seem with the hundred pound & six inch height advantage he has) & say, “Look, if you’ve got a problem with her parents you can take that up with them. But you can’t go around threatening my loved ones.” I slam his head against the wall a lot harder & he crumples to the ground. I tell my friend, “Breakfast is ready.” She says, “So does this mean I’m one of your ‘loved ones’?” “Shut the fuck up.”
i feel like ive lived that dream a few times over the past three years
I know. I didn’t really bother to go to indepth with the details because I might use it for a comic story, but it was super-vivid & I thought it was real for a moment. I don’t understand how I’m this old & still find myself in those type of houses. (Oh, wait, yes I do, it’s called being a touring musician – at least it doesn’t happen in my home town anymore.)