plebo.org

I promise to post more soon.  I have actually been busy with so much.  I feel like I have less time now than I did when Kristen was in hospital. 

Check back soon. 

In the meantime:

I had a really great heart to heart talk with Carl earlier tonight. It was his birthday.  He informed me that numerous people have come to him asking what can they do to help this current situation I am in with the wife. 

It’s hard.  It’s really hard.  I feel so insane regarding this.  Kristen and I already lost everything in Hurricane Katrina.  We got used to  recalling a memory and referencing a photograph and then remember that we don’t have it any more.  Yearbooks, books, CDs, all gone.  Maybe we should have looked for professional help four years ago.  Maybe I should have been more agressive with my discomfort with her vodka consumption.  Is this all my fault?  Did I not help her enough?  She had already been through a traumatic adolescence but what was my responsibility?  I’m not sure and I don’t know. 

If life was fair I wouldn’t have met the amazing people I currently know.  Carl, Claire, Rog, and the countless others have offered all but the deeds to their houses to me in this horrid situation.

As a performer I must crave attention but the attention I don’t want is the kind linked to the pity attention.  I don’t know and I am confused.

A few weeks ago two things happened.  I was hired (or rather a band I am a member of:  the Mighty Rhythm Kings) to perform at the Haddonfield NJ arts & craft festival that kicked off today and lasts all weekend.  I also had a conversation with an editor at Philadelphia Magazine.  In my conversation with him the fact that this Haddonfield Fest was award a “Best of Philly” honor for a family friendly fest.  I pointed out that I am always performing in Chestnut Hill, especially at their two yearly fests.  The editor rolled his eyes and began a rant why Chestnut Hill is behind the times. 

Let me tell you my personal experiance at this “Best of Philly” event that is physically located in NEW JERSEY… 

They required that we arrive almost two hours before we were to begin playing.  This was not an outrageous request, these kinds of affairs can be hairy with traffic and whatnot.  After setting up all our gear Chuck, the drummer, and I survey the area and talk about grabbing a cold beer at some point.  We are scheduled to play four hours, which is a long time - especially for an outdoor gig.  Then the even coordinator shows up and informs us that we have set up in the wrong location.  I still have the forwarded email from her giving us the name of a store (Jamacan Me Crazy) which, apparently, wasn’t the correct store.  But it was okay, as there was another hitch that would cause us to have to move from our origianl location anyway.  (okay?…  riiiight) 

So we do a set.  We are told to turn down every song or so.  We then take an early break as there is some kind of awards ceremony happening across the street from us (the jump swing band they hired after hearing what we sound like).  At this point Chuck and I decide that is, officially, time for a cocktail.  We begin to walk about a quarter mile down the main stretch.  We find two bands playing good covers of horrible 90’s rock music who were twice as loud as we were.  Not fair.  We continues our search for the Holy Pint.  No luck.  We find a bistro, no bar.  We find a British Themed Pastry “shoppe”, no luck.  One of us realize that there is a seafood raw bar the other direction from where we were playing and we trek to that location.  While I used the restroom Chuck spoke to a waitress who informed us that it is a DRY COUNTY.  No tasty beverages for us. 

As I was driving into Haddonfield I did notice two things.  One: the speed limit was 25 mph and NOONE WAS DRIVING FASTER THAN 22 MPH.  Then, two: there was a large sign proclaiming that “The Churches of Haddonfield Welcome You”.  I laughed to myself that it reminded me of certain places in the south that had strict liquor laws.  Little did I know I was totally on the right track.

We played the show.  The public was quite receptive and seemed to truly enjoy us.  More than one person said we were the best act at the event.  My favorite moment came when a bus containing what I can only guess was a high school sports team was stopped in front of us.  They yelled a request to play some blues to us.  Jim, the guitarist, answered via microphone, “Are you guys in prison?” and proceded to lead us into a romping version of  Cash’s “Folsom Prison Blues”.

I don’t see how this won “Best of Philly”.  It seemed fun, but wasn’t MIND BLOWING.  Like that restaurant that you’ve never had a bad meal at but isn’t the kind of place you would take someone who was visiting you.  And the no drinking thing is so NOT COOL.

I was sitting on my couch earlier.  I had sat down in heated frustration.  Many things, mostly related to my wife’s illness caused my anger.  I sat down angerly as I tried to turn a record on.  By record I mean an actual record.  It wasn’t a success.  The record I did not play was Neil Young’s ON THE BEACH.

Then it hit me.  His phone number is a palendrome.  By his I meant Ben Langford, my former partner in all sorts of crimes in New Orleans.  He happens to now be an ADA in Baton Rouge, so I can’t and won’t say anything more about our adventures in the Big Easy.  I will say that he is the most honest, loyal and the closest thing I ever had to family down south. 

Unfortunately we have not kept in touch: probably my fault.  Ben opened my eyes to so much muscially and I like to feel I did the same for him.  He also was my political opposite but was smart enough to back up his views I could never argue him down.  It’s because of him that I left the democratic party and joined the libertarians, although he is a republican. 

I miss him and I hope he does return my call.  Once I remembered his number as a palendrome all I had to do was figure out what area code he is in.  Luckily I was right on the second try.

I had the first rehearsal for the Reverend Chris Takes on the Beatlesgig I have on Sept. 12th.  It went great and I felt better about my arrangement ideas after Tony (bassist) told me they would work.  He also said that when I originally texted him my ideas (Hard Days Night arranged in 5/4 time) he wasn’t sure if it would work.  But he agrees that it does, thank God.

Meeting Katie Drake for a drink at Earth Bread & Breweryin 30 minutes.  It’s nice little place across the street from my house.  I took off of the Tavern tonight because of all this drama at home with Kris being sick and what not.  I needed a day off.  I have gigs Sunday and Monday (my two days off from the day job) so it’s nice to get schitt done today.

Thinking about re-reading Beneath the Underdog as soon as I am done with my current book.

you can now follow me on twitter…

It’s hard in the economy to get gigs.  I feel bad that I haven’t made the attempt to book the Naked Nuns in MONTHS.  But, it just isn’t the right time for it.  I know for a fact that I can get a kick-ass band together for next to nothing.  Some of the guys have done it before but I can’t be known as the person with a 5 member band who can work for $300.   Two or three of us can work for that, maybe.  I just can’t be known as the cheap go-to.  I talked to two repeated clients tonight (private residencies, not bars/clubs) and they agree that my current pricing, while now cheap, is worth it and both (after hearing me) agree I could charge more.

Maybe in 6 months.

NEWS:  Just was informed that while dining at the Union Square Cafe in NYC you will find the food, flavors and fun enhanced by the music of yours truly.  Crazy!

Food For Thot

by Dr. John (from his album Creole Moon)

You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink

Send a fool to college but you can’t make him think

Some of us are stung out on TV, stoned videos

Some of y’all are keepin’ the villages from having their own idiots

Some of us never was, some never has-been

Some of us never will be, some never gonna be again

A little Food for Thot

Food for Thot

A little Food for Thot

Food for Thot

Ya got so many bumps on a log, so many grunts in a hog

So many croaks in a frog, so many barks in a dog

Now day breaks and don’t ever fall

Night falls and don’t never break, y’all

A little Food for Thot

Food for Thot

A little Food for Thot

Food for Thot

Now if ignorance is wisdom, stupidity makes us free

What in the world does that tell you about you listening at me?

New Orleans luscious got mugs, New Orleans Hooters got jugs

New Orleans nuts loose lugs, New Orleans users loose drugs

A little Food for Thot

Food for Thot

A little Food for Thot

Food for Thot

I have been in talks regarding the upcoming all-Beatles gig I have on Sept 12 that there will a recording made that night of the performance.  It could really be something cool.  I have been spending 3 or more hours every other day working on arrangements of their material that can translate to piano, upright bass and percussion.  It has really been an eye-opening experience coming from a jazz background.  I know all these songs; I grew up on them, but dissecting them has jump-starting something really really neat.

On other topics.  I have been reading P.J. O’Rourke’s book “On Wealth of Nations” where he analizes “The Wealth of Nations” by Adam Smith from 1776.  It is a great read.  Not as humorous as I thought but very very good.  My favorite passage, thus far, follows:

Okay, yes, I admit that total removal of every market restraint would be “good for the economy.”  But money isn’t everything.  Think of the danger and damage to society.  Without government regulation the big shots who run companies like Enron, WorldCom, and Tyco could have cheated investors and embezzled millions.  Without restrictions on the sale of hazardous substances young people might smoke, drink, and even use drugs.  Without the licensing of medical practitioners the way would be clear for chiropractors, osteopaths, and purveyors of aromatherapy.  If we didn’t have labor unions, thirty thousand pepole would still be wage slaves at General Motors, their daily lives filled with mindless drudgeery.  And if there weren’t various forms of retail collusion in the pertroleum industry, filling stations could charge as little as they liked.  I’d have to drive all over town to find the best price.  That would waste gas.

There is also a great bit how the lower of society do have too much money just “look at Britaney Spears”.  And it all ties in with a text more than two hundred years old.

1)  Going fishing on Monday and I can’t wait. 

2)  On those promos for N.B.C. where various local newscasters and prime-time actors hit the three xylophony bars with the mallet they did it wrong and it drives me up a wall.  You would play the largest, the smallest (the third), then the middle note, not one, two, three.  It really really bothers me.