Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Final Leg finances

San Francisco, CA

Food: $3.70
Food: $4.50
Book: $2.19
BART: $7.40
CalTrain: $9.00
Amtrak USA Rail Pass: $749.00

Total: $775.79
Earnings: $84.00
Net: -$691.79

NORTHERN NET: -$691.79
TOTAL NET: -$2,906.65
TOTAL NET excepting nothing: -$5,589.04

Seattle, WA

Bus Ticket: $2.25

Total: $2.25
Earnings: $43.43
Net: +$41.18

NORTHERN NET: -$650.61
TOTAL NET: -$2,865.47
TOTAL NET excepting nothing: -$5,542.86

Vancouver, BC

Barbecue: 8.00 CAD
Ramen: 9.50 CAD
Tea: 2.40 CAD
(Taxi: 8.00 CAD)
Food: 5.80 CAD

Total: 25.70 CAD
Earnings: 22.35 CAD
Net: -3.35 CAD

NORTHERN NET: -653.96 CAD
TOTAL NET: -2,868.82 CAD
TOTAL NET excepting nothing: -5,544.21 CAD

Chicago, IL

Metra tickets: $22.50
CTA tickets: $7.50
Starbucks: $6.80
干炒叉燒河: $5.45

Total: $42.25
Earnings: $20.00
Net: -$22.25

NORTHERN NET: -$676.21
TOTAL NET: -$2,891.05
TOTAL NET excepting nothing: -$5,566.46

Buffalo, NY

Panera: $4.88
Arizona Tea: $0.99
Chicken Finger Sandwich: $4.99

Total: $ 10.86
Earnings: $3.53
Net: -$7.33

NORTHERN NET: -$683.54
TOTAL NET: -$2898.38
TOTAL NET excepting nothing: -$5573.79

Toronto, ON

Italian Sandwich: $6.50

Total: $6.50
Earnings: $0.00
Net: -$6.50

NORTHERN NET: -$690.04
TOTAL NET: -$2904.88
TOTAL NET excepting nothing: -$5580.29

New Haven, CT

York St. Noodle House: $8.83
Vitamin Water: $2.00

Total: $10.83
Earnings: $16.56
Net: +$5.73

NORTHERN NET: -$684.31
TOTAL NET: -$2899.15
TOTAL NET excepting nothing: -$5574.56

New York, NY

Metro Cards: $40.00
Joy Burger: $9.47
Totto Ramen: $10.97
Naruto Ramen: $8.88
Grand Sichuan: $10.00
Deodorant: $3.12
Coconut Water: $2.09
Naruto Ramen: $11.50
Angelo's Pizza: $15.00
Menkui Tei Ramen: $8.88
Ippudo Ramen: $28.00
Arizona Tea: $0.99
Bagelry: $3.31
Teriyaki Bowl: $6.75
Marketplace Special: $12.00

Total: $169.96
Earnings: $40.00
Net: -$129.96

NORTHERN NET: -$814.27
TOTAL NET: -$3029.11
TOTAL NET excepting nothing: -$5704.52

Miami, FL

Bus x2: $4.00
Bachelor Limo: $40.00

Total: $44.00
Earnings: $0.00
Net: -$44.00

NORTHERN NET: -$858.27
TOTAL NET: -$3073.11
TOTAL NET excepting nothing: -$5748.52

Gainesville, FL

Sunday, October 23, 2011

The Gainesville End, Day 4

Alan and I met up before my final Tom Miller show to polish Hey Jude, Stamsund and The Squirrel Song. I felt comfortable with the minor bit, ready to give solo room, etc. Generally psyched to perform with another musician... and then we realized that his keyboard doesn't lend well to portability. So it didn't happen. We played it at my mom's new place for her return from Chicago, though.

I went to the show anyways. It began with a drawing fail. Lack of practice and my least comfortable subject matter, people, led to a couple really crappy drawings. Speaking of which I need to start drawing. Yeah. That. Tom's blonde jokes ill prepared us for Reverend Angel Dust's strangely more serious (still peppered with his catch phrases) benediction. Perhaps his filming for YouTube prompted the change. Eric followed with a similarly strangely serious and long preface about the Levin law school before his characteristic music parody of Under the Sea with a jab at grading - "Under the curve" and US News & World Report School rankings.

Dan Kahn took the stage mostly to honor Tom, combining disparate actors and singers of the audience's choosing Frank Sinatra/Lady Gaga, Elton John/Lawrence Olivier, Robert Plant/Janis Joplin. A girl in the audience with platinum blonde hair screamed particularly enthusiastically throughout his "set". When he finished, she continued in the same volume to push her play. "I'm in a sex scene!" Great.

Maximum Overdrive, a two piece band who last appeared at the Tom Miller show a year ago, played some power chords with badly wrought yet humourous lyrics. Most of the men in the audience found the both members of the band quite cute. Quite professional at least, with their own beautiful amps, own expensive guitars strummed oblivious to progressively out of tune strings (low E in tune, A slightly sharp, D even sharper, etc.), and riffs from popular songs. I did enjoy their most serious song. Humour can get one far where skill falters.

A young man dressed and styled in a caricature of gothdom read a serious, well written poem written after his sister's death from a drug overdose. Then, to go with the seeming pressure most feel at the Lab (but that I don't?) read a funny one. Chase sang his song again. His mate Max tried comedy. And if I say so myself, I killed it. I felt on the moment I stepped on stage. Again a setlist for my albums (one sale to the lovely Ashley): Car No. 5, Stamsund, and a close out with Crazy.



When I returned to my seat, the pretty pixie-haircut artist girl sitting at a table to the right proffered me a few dollars, saying that she's trying to do the same thing herself with art, putting herself out there, and she knows that in her position she'd appreciate anything. I certainly did and I gave her a couple bookmarks.

Albert had me tape Dave's hand-dancing for Julianne. Unfortunately a rather man-hating lesbian couple seemed to enjoy putting their heads in the way, but I did get as much as I could:



I loved his use of The Rose. A song about Jesus by a gay icon. A very strange combination and a cool thing. Dave and I chatted outside while Wesson played, and then remained outside when the next act, a fire poi guy, started up. This act really bothered me. As per usual the audience oohed and aahed about how cool it was, when this "juggler" was really the least talented fire poi artist I've yet seen. Just as Lily noted - add fire to things and suddenly people go all gaga over it. No real tricks just fire poi whirled in circles beside him or above his head. It's about as hard as idling twirling a lanyard.

Our stretch of comedians fared much better than the past week's. Pablo started off with a Lab vibe appropriate discussion of ugly people. The man haters "feminists" they called themselves, interrupted him loudly halfway through with, what was it? "You're a dirty chauvinist asshole shit fucker?" Something like that. Pablo dealt with this deftly by remarking how the Lab got rather a lot cuter after they'd left. His friend Eric, a black guy with dreads and a cap casting shadow over his downturned face, no eyes to be seen, utilized the presence of the pretty girl at his table to warm up to jokes about 3d and high definition porn. Ah the high class and sophistication of Laboratory humour. That same girl took the stage with not particulary entertaining jokes completely undercutting her self-identification as a non man hating feminist. Mystic closed us out with a German exchange student playing his spare flute and two drummers backing him up.

And that was that. I lingered a bit outside to bid everyone goodbye. One girl with a British accent liked my stuff and asked to gig with me. Chase reiterated his appreciation. Dave and Tom wished me luck. I haven't had much here in Chicago, nor found an open mic anything like the Unspectacular.

Earnings: $14.00, 15 minutes
Song of the Day: Stamsund - Terrence Ho

Thursday, October 20, 2011

The Gainesville End, Day 3

I started playing music in Gainesville. So when I return, many of my music making friends are still there. This time I got a chance to collaborate with Christine and Alan, both taking a bit of time away from school, with a few rehearsals. Sort of a band that didn't quite happen. When I told Brent I'd begun practicing with them, he expressed his shock with, "But aren't they both waaaaay better than you in music?" Oh, I can always count on my brothers for moral support. Quite fortunately for me, he's entirely correct. They majored/are majoring in music, while I gave up classical training for many years. I attempted to make up for my lack of skill with enthusiasm, though. We never ended up playing an Open Mic, but at our first memorable rehearsal we began to write a very amusing song: One Red Crayon I hope we finish it.

Since schedules didn't work out, I performed solo once again at the Tom Miller show. One show many months prior adopted a recurring "Is this the show?" gag. This show's tagline? "This is not a gay show."

Ashley and Albert came once again, with Julianne returned Northwards for school. Thanks to Ashley's smiling and encouragement I didn't have the nerves I had the previous outing. Oh, and I didn't go second. That helped too. Reverend Angel Dust returned from his hiatus to open things up, and the show returned with him to its own version of normalcy. I don't quite remember the details of his benediction save that it featured the same homages to marijuana and the Goddess as always. In an early flip up of schedule, Tom put Chase up next to once again sing along to what seems to be his song, Sister Golden Hair.

Along with not being a gay show, the most entertaining portion of the night came courtesy of a rather amorous couple who decided to deal with the strangeness of their first show by focusing entirely on each other. Throughout the night many performers made loud suggestions of local hotels. I suppose with their hormones already primed for anything suggestive, they wildly enjoyed Eric's trumpet and substituted lyric oldie. Cinnamike's connection of actors to Kevin Bacon didn't amuse them in the slightest, however, so they proceeded to find amusement from each others lips.

Poet Dave, of The Word is Spoken surprised me next with a truly beautiful first poem, before satisfying the crowd (and the couple) with two increasingly raunchy sets of verse. At some point "This is not a gay show" became relevant. Tom decided on a comedy transition, and invited Pablo up to the stage. He sang amusing comedic songs which I can't at all remember. Except that they definitely weren't gay. Then an absolutely terrible comedian (who from hearsay the following show actually can be funny if he's not at the Laboratory - I admit it's a unique audience) failed wonderfully and lashed out with epithets and profanity against us (oh and threats which Tom, Chase, and Dave wonderfully twisted to not be gay). I believe Otto exited the stage with "Fuck you guys" and Tom responded, "Meet you in five minutes in the alley?"

Not a gay show.

To capitalize on the complete straightness of the show, Tom started the musical portion with Jesse's new band Deconstructed - a twelve string guitarist and middle aged "hot biker girl" singer taking the place of his mostly ex boyfriend, yet another Dave. I must say I enjoyed their performance thoroughly. My expectations of constant re-starts, fumbled chords, and accented quarreling appeared unwarranted. So entertainment value around the same. A diminutive actor shared his extremely heterosexual specific love of acting with Iago's monologue from Othello. When I took the stagette after, Chase loudly accompanied Tom's introduction with a "and he gets mistaken for a girl when he's hitchhiking." By this point nearly everyone figured out the refrain.

This is not a gay show.

I decided to go with a setlist geared to push the physical release of my Foreign Skies EP: From Dawn to Busk, The Mario Kart Love Song, and A Thousand Post-Its. I couldn't remember the last time I performed that last one. So nervous I restarted three times, I felt very gracious for a supportive audience - people who I've come to know and care for, in my own judgmental way. They even let me play an extra song, Kids per Ashely's request.

And then back to "comedy". Otto's table mates apparently all meant to procure laughs. In my opinion they mostly failed. The first of these left such a large impression on me I haven't the foggiest idea of his name, face, or voice. I did jot down "Another Comedian" in my notebook. I know he existed. I'm mixing up Justin with next week's Eric. I think it's because I'm racist and I remember them mostly as being the only black people at their respective shows. (On another outing to the Lab for Trivia Night, Alan noticed out of the one hundred and five people present, 103 were White and 2 Asian). According to my notes Bill O'Conner did something. I don't know what.

In the middle of Justin's act, Gainesville's unique brand of despicable hipsters descended. Maybe six of them? Men in flannel, facial hair, perma-high expressions, big eyes, unwashed hair, earplugs, tats, bracelets, holes and patches; women sporting generally loose clothing tight in strategic places, seductively parted lips, muted forest colors, large black framed glasses magnifying eyes filled with disdain, boots (remember, Florida)... just in time for one Sean McDonnell to grace the stage as "Cunt Tree Star."

Now I think I've been consistent and clear with my thoughts on the Tom Miller Show. One of my favourite shows filled with warmth, respect, and no surfeit of talent. Ample ribbing occurs. Loving jeers. Supportive insults. I've never felt so disrespected (as one of the regulars, I suppose) as by this gaggle of hipsters. Sean took fifteen minutes to change dress into torn white jeans and other such apparently stereotypical hick clothing, wrapped himself in the back projection cloth halfway through, and essentially screamed and banged a guitar through his own amplifier turned up to ear-piercing levels. He drove everyone out. His hipster buds ate it up. Laughing and wooping with those slack jawed, glazed eyes panting grins. Everything about them spoke of disrespect for the venue, the other performers, other kinds of music or people - anything beyond their own fuck the man uniqueness. I think many people associate me as one of these hipstery anti-norm types, but even I thought mostly, "Take a bloody bath."

One of the hipster supporters - the prettiest least offensive one (or perhaps I forgive her for her prettiness) read an incredibly explicit piece of poetry/prose about sex before leaving a town while one of the males played electronic music from a korg mini keyboard. It was all very artsy in that masturbatory way. In that way that I disliked many of my co-majors at school. Luckily, Wesson arrived to close us out.

Earnings: $0.00, 20 minutes
Song of the Day: A Thousand Post-Its - Terrence Ho

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

What, I write songs too? Part XIV

Apparently when my brothers were traveling together in Israel (or Ireland?) they started talking about how generally useless I am financially. No lucrative skills, yadda yadda. Kevin decided to give me some credit, however, saying, "Well, the thing about Terrence is his dollar goes far." Brent zinged back, "Imagine if he had two." Later on they related this story to me and I knew it needed to become a song. After many different iterations, chord structures, keys, bridges, etc., I finally settled on this duet - inspired by my good friend Daniel's recent marriage. As with many things I'd intended that I finish recording it for a wedding gift. I still haven't. Today, however, I met up with one Haley I found on craigslist, and after connecting on many many levels (we shall be collaborating rather a lot soon), we did a very rough playthrough of the song. Once I start Phase II of this blog, I'll be uploading a high quality practiced version, but for now, do enjoy:



If We Had Two

They say, "Everybody wants a million dollars."
But hey, I don't think we really need that much.
Squabbling for that sum could waste my soul away,
When I just need the wonder of your touch.

They say, "Money is the root of all evil."
But maybe that's just what us poor lovers think.
It's a good excuse to demonize the rich,
Feel better when our savings wash quickly down the sink.

My brothers always tell me my dollar will go far.
I've seen myself the stretching yours can do.
Now imagine all the beauty that we could bring about
If our dollars wed and suddenly we'd have two.

They say "You need savings for the future."
So hey, let's just live for now and for today.
We'll wander town to town, sing joy to little crowds,
When times get tough, we'll laugh them all away.

My brothers always tell me my dollar will go far.
I've seen myself the stretching yours can do.
Now imagine all the beauty that we could bring about
If our dollars wed and suddenly we'd have two.

A penny saved is a penny earned and a penny for my thoughts,
But since I'll share them all for free, a penny's quite a lot.
I'll give no quarter in my quest for the merger of our hearts,
I know our dimes will spin the best in rhythm not apart.

They say, "Never waste time, for time is money."
Well wait, can't we spend our time on better things?
Without a job to slave at, I'll never come home late,
And I hope this song proves more than any ring.

My brothers always tell me my dollar will go far.
I've seen myself the stretching yours can do.
Now imagine all the beauty that we could bring about
If our dollars wed and suddenly we'd have two.

Suddenly we'd have two.
Suddenly we'd have two.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

An Original EP and a Short Story of Its Making

I meant to post this to coincide with the availability of physical copies of my Original EP Foreign Skies. As with the EP itself, this became delayed a few months. I intended the EP for a March release, but it's status as a very understandable low priority for Maria denied me that possibility.

As it stands, the album is almost entirely my work. After a quarrel which I never understood to be a quarrel, Maria sent me the raw audio files from the recording session - and only one take per track, usually the last take. When we recorded the albums back in Denver, I had no computer in my possession, you see. I found this lack of tracks particularly frustrating, as I could definitely remember better takes for the various parts. Some of the parts had upwards of twenty takes. Furthermore, she denied me permission to use her cello tracks - parts we'd worked on together and really filled out the sound (especially on Purple Dress and A Thousand Post-Its). I do not want to harp on my disappointment long. In the end I mixed the tracks on my friends' computers in Vancouver, Buffalo, and Toronto so that I could meet my New York Digital Release date. While I am still proud of the work I did for the album, I know so many ways it could be improved - even with the material at hand.

So I present to you a finished EP, but not a perfect one. I am selling it both digitally and physically. As they are my own songs, I did not need to purchase rights, but my desire to include lyrics inserts in the physical copies really drove up the price per CD. They cost approximately $3.70/each to make. At this point in my musician-ness, having just settled in Chicago and looking to gig and play indoors more than out, I can only hope for the full length album I've dreamed of completing. If I figure out the scene, find out how to get regular gigs and stop spending without earning, find support and a fanbase, and most importantly keep up my motivation - it may still happen. I do not often ask for support - I need yours now more than ever.





Jacket Art
Lyrics Insert Booklet Art


Listen to and Buy the CD at my website

Thursday, October 13, 2011

The Gainesville End, Day 2

I didn't bother writing notes for this return to my home Open Mic. So lucky you, it might be a shorter post! Albert and Julianne returned with another friend, Ashley, in tow, providing me no shortage of nervousness. Tom opened the night with a set of
bawdy dark humour jokes. With the realization that he might be a clown, he announced a hiatus on his "No clowns, jugglers, or mimes" rule, and with the Reverend Angel Dust missing for a consecutive week, a trumpet toting man with all the appearance of a long and trying life permanently hunching his back made his way up to the stage to open. And oh, did he surprise all of us. Eric played us a rendition of Under the Boardwalk interspersed with his own absolutely hilarious drug and sex filled lyrics - all delivered a capella with a crochety seriousness in a brilliant use of the apparent dissonance of his look and soul. Ashley asked me if I was as good as this guy, and I had to admit that, no, in fact, I was not.

The stunners continued as Tom called me up next. I'd never played before 11.30 before and this caught me entirely off guard. Add on the silly nerves, a half formed set list, and an last minute decided new song opener - I flubbed my Aussie song entirely. I couldn't remember the lyrics after the first chorus, tried to keep going, continued to come up blank, and essentially melted at the post. I haven't played it since, and I wonder if I should keep it? And if so, if I should rework it entirely. I think this moment I realized that my creativity dried up over the past months as I strive too hard to make songs demanding and complex. My lyrics remain natural but the chord structures and melodies emerge contrived. Also, I'm probably too damn happy to be particularly inspired.

So I had to follow with somethings strong - Stamsund. My confidence renewed by this, I played my cover of Collide while large patches of people filed out. I don't know if my song choice, performance or the show in general prompted this, but the message I received at the time read "You're not good enough to keep us around." My performance, especially my falsetto, suffered. I couldn't go out on this note. Tom called for an encore, and I played my Squirrel Song, safe with the assistance of audience participation.

Wahoo sang a few oldies once again while Albert and Ashley threw quizzical looks in my direction (I did not hazard a glance to my right lest I fall into a fit of staring admiration). Dave performed his hand dancing in front of a projected purple background, and with Chase's audible appreciation of the beautiful silhouette's created, he performed an encore Bad Romance in profile. The shadows entranced for but a little time, as I preferred the communication he achieved with facial expressions and the visual flourishes intended for face on viewing.

As tradition seems to be, Chase followed his brother with his standard not-quite-karaoke, joined by his goth teen twig of a daughter for his final numbers. His daughter kept the stage for a painfully nervous recitation of, well, a 14 year old's poetry. It took me back to a time reading my own particularly poor verse at Oak Hall Assembly years ago. I think I called that poem Rain. At any rate let us return to the show. Which went outside. __, well known as "the helicopter guy" shared his passion for flying remote control helicopters with rotary speeds that might literally take one's head off. I watched safely behind Albert's six foot plus frame.

And finally, the most bizarre part of the night. Chase's daughter wrestling Mystic Mike on stage. Apparently they hate and love each other intensely and wanted to settle something. Chase decided to volunteer this feud for our "entertainment", making odd bets on the outcome while commenting on his own parenting prowess. Even me, veteran of so many shows, found this intensely disturbing. So we watched, but watched each other's faces more keenly for reaction cues, surreptitiously trying to glean the appropriate comportment from each other and upon realizing that no one knew quite how to take it, settling on utter confusion.

Wesson arrived just before the show ended, in time to start a trademark wandering, ear-splittingly loud performance. Maybe my allergic reaction to Florida (and I have one) made my sensitive lobes that much more delicate. I couldn't remain within as my tablemates watched in that "is-this-for-real" awe particular to Wesson's performances. On return we turned to random.org, and the rulers of string theory decreed me the winner once again. I used a dollar of it for tea this night, and couldn't fathom how I could possibly finish off the remaining $49.

Earnings: $25.00 tab, 15 minutes
Song of the Day: Stamsund - Terrence Ho

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

The Gainesville End, Day 1

So after six months away, I returned quite happily to Gainesville. Naturally I went nearly immediately to the Tom Miller (Now Winter-Summer) Unspectacular. Between preparing to move, calming my mother down from her emotional swings as a result of said move, and job hunting, this ended up being the only show I played.

The Tom Miller show is so much more fun with allies. Especially allies that come wide eyed and uncorrupted. This first night back I brought two with me, my friend Albert and his astonishingly, distractingly pretty friend Julianne. Luckily, I had ample opportunity to be distracted at the start of the night, watching their reactions to Tom Miller's antics. Owing to a small showing, he took out a manuscript from a book of his (I do not know if this book is a fabrication or not) and commenced reading excerpts of alternately shocking and lascivious prose. One of these short pieces even berated his friends for not giving him money. I enjoyed them immensely. I owe this delight, probably, to my "in-the-know" status. As Albert later put it, the Tom Miller show elicits an initial reaction of is-this-really happening coupled with what-am-i-doing-here. The vibe settles on you later, and as you become more comfortable and included to begin to let go and enjoy, but those first few moments are priceless.

Tom continued this theme of "words" by inviting an author to the stage next. This author read from his recently published book in a hilariously conceited and faux accented style (obviously he was quite pleased with his book, reading a random passage for about twenty minutes) before leaving. "Words" continued as a young man read a passable river poem.

Finally we moved out of "words" into "music." Tom introduced a local hillbilly banjo player as having come from out of town despite numerous audience corrections. I can confirm that he entertained us. I cannot, however, vouch for his sense of intonation. Either his style intentionally involved playing with progressively flatter strings (from the high string to low) and a oppositely scaling flatness to his voice or he was tone deaf. Both are possible. A good sense of rhythm, however, thrummed through the Laboratory with the assistance of a nearly catatonic drunkard who clapped along (generally behind) while he nourished the table with his flask of beer. By the end of our banjo player's set, the chrome tabletop resembled a modern infinity pool or fountain.

Tom's antics at the start of the show made sense with the show's own particular logic. A very small showing of acts necessitated that he drag the show out to it's normal length my any means. Most show's last around three and a half hours and he wanted to make sure this one did not disappoint. He enjoys putting what he considers as talent near the end (especially newcomers) to see how many people the show will drive away first. Only the hardcore who stick around through all the shenanigans get to reap that reward, and one has to remain for the end for to win, too. At any rate, "Broadway Dave," my personal favourite regular, charmed us with an excellent karaoke rendition of Zoot Suit Riot, and Be Prepared. After audience pressure he introduced Albert and Julianne to that uncommonly beautiful hand dancing style to The Circle of Life.

Dave's brother Chase karaoke'd a single song in honor of his grandparents. His rather brilliant tactic seems to be to use original tracks (with the vocal parts still playing) at high volume such that his voice is hardly distinguishable from the true lead voice. I suppose this hides flubs and things so that we concentrate more on his stage presence and appreciate the music as it was first recorded. If nothing else, he introduces his generation's music to a new crop of people. A comedian followed him up - one I can hardly remember beyond the fact that he existed - and then, finally, me.

I asked Julianne to choose a cover off my Live on Street Corner album. The last time I played at the Laboratory, this CD remained unfinished and I nursed high hopes I might sell a few to this warm group of patrons. I sandwiched I Will Follow You Into the Dark between two of my newer songs Silver Lining and If We Had Two - written after last January - and as an encore my Forever & a Day. I remained surprisingly collected and confident so long as I avoided looking towards Albert and Julianne. I guess I'm most comfortable playing for strangers.

I plugged my CD a few times through my performance and Tom replugged it after I left. When Chase asked to talk to me outside I assumed he wished to purchase one, so I left happily with one in hand. It turns out he wanted to confront me about my blog posts. Throughout the night, Tom and others alluded to my blog with sarcastic recommendations to read it, mentioning how I talk about "everything." Apparently many Tom read a post or two one night that I'd written about the show, and some of the performers took offense. I couldn't quite remember what I'd written as I talked with Chase and felt like I must have greatly denigrated the other acts in various ways. Chase said that some wanted him to beat me up when I returned. He, however, held the opinion that I simply spoke the truth. He told me he admired that I write things how I see them, and that I don't hold back. In fact due to my blog he quit smoking. In my amnesiac state I apologized for slights I imagined I cast, while he assured me that of the silliness of said apologies. Upon review of my posts at home, of course, I concurred with his assessment. There's not an over-reaching offensive thing in there.

I re-entered the Lab at the end of Mystic's flute performance, relying as ever on cavernous reverb, and chatted with Julianne and Albert while we waited for the winner to be announced. Random.org decreed me that winner of $25 store credit. Petite Julianne took Albert off to see a lingerie store while I remained entangled in a lengthy conversation with the oppositely proportioned James Wesson on the porch. Oh the inequities of life. The distance between musician of popular opinion and the real musician's lifestyle.

Earnings: $25.00 tab, 20 minutes
Song of the Day: I Will Follow You Into the Dark - Death Cab for Cutie

Monday, October 10, 2011

Who New YorKoming to my Gig? Day 2

Fail voice - that horrible feeling where you know you're not singing well but you gotta do it... and all your friends are there...

Forever and a Day
Silver Lining
Mario Kart Love Song
Hello
From Dawn to Busk
Six Years

A/C

Audience, late start, vibe throughout

couples

reunions

gabe's comments

kirk's

going out after.. meh

what it is to be mature (my khanh, kimmie, being privileged)

Earnings:
Song of the Day: -

Sunday, October 9, 2011

Miami Happy, and So Are They, Day 2

As per usual, I arrived in Miami with no prior arrangements for getting picked up. Daniel's address in journal, I took a sequence of buses with extraordinarily kinds drivers to the nearest stop. My backpack strap had broken again somewhere between Chicago and New York, and this combined with hot Florida weather and a heavy, useless coat and hoodie left me rather burdened for the mile jaunt. Just as I debated which way to turn at a crossroads, however, Daniel's brother, Josh, began to pass slowly in the back seat of a car full of people. I recognized him from our meeting in the Bass Library over a year ago and hailed the car - they were slowing to inquire at the same time.

And so began a weekend infused with peace, life, and above all love. Everything connived to work out beautifully, the guiding hand of God touching events and bringing people together, knitting two families together, laying calm on every mind, smiles of patience smoothing normal brows of worry. But first, the bachelor party. A tradition I never quite understood and continued to be perplexed by this night. We took a large limo around the city and alighted in a strangely dead "happening" center of town. Busking changed my eyes like rock climbing did, and my study of art. I saw every corner and awning as a possible busking locale, but after just a few minutes I knew the Miami vibe would quickly kill any busker's spirit. Materialism beyond LA, alcohol, glitz, machismo, hilarious gender divisions. Much of the world I'd seen but never the closest big city, and now I saw no charm to bring me back.

The morning of Daniel's wedding and the house filled with music. Brooke's vocal warmups. Her rehearsals with Josh. David's guitar and my irresistible draw to the keyboard. The wedding itself - the first I've attended as an adult, I'd say - easily the most beautiful ceremony. Daniel's personality suffused everything. The two groups of groomsmen entered to lip synched song. An retooled Blower's Daughter emotional from him as Patti strolled down the central aisle. Daniel and Patti singing an adapted Juno song together, blending a fruit, milk, and honey smoothie and drinking it in metaphor for their relationship. Josh and Brooke's How He Loves Us, and a bilingual service presided over by Daniel's father and a Brazilian pastor.

Daniel's mother tasked me with filming the event, and I boldly wandered the church throughout, feeling awkward and paparazzi. She relieved me, thankfully, halfway through. A glorious reception highlighted by a break dance battle between the groom's middle school aged cousin and the bride's post college friend. An after party moved away from the drunk crowds of the original locale, Oppa, and onto a quiet beach kissed by shadow.

I returned to the beach the next morning with Daniel's friends from home. The Yalie's had already left. I felt comfortable with these kindly strong people. I brought my guitar, remembered Copenhagen, Hawai'i, Brighton Le-Sands, Williamstown, Vancouver. ___ requested I sing How Great is Our God and my voice rang strong. The perfect song for the moment. Other beachgoers turned to watch, eyes rapt, and clapped, thumbs upped, smiled, nodded. One nearby complimented me grandly and ___ responded "You should hear him play the piano!" and I smiled inside at the irony. Then Hello, basking in the sun, shirt on embarrassed with the atrophy of my once muscled form, with my mind in the Prague dusk.

We played soccer afterwards, on the beach. With the Brazilians on my team against a squad of Haitians, I found that I didn't suck.

Earnings: $0.00, 30 minutes.
Song of the Day: How Great is Our God - Chris Tomlin

Miami Happy, and So Are They, Day 1

Failing to get to Montreal worked out well. Instead of a rushed tour of the place bracketed by two day long trips, I enjoyed a few placid days continuing my job searches in Hong Kong and Turkey. By this point I'd become convinced by the many older people I'd spoken with along the way that one year sufficed. Now I needed to be more responsible.

My good friend Daniel, who I'd originally planned on busking with until he decided to head to peace corp in Mozambique, found himself a life partner there. Fortuitously, their wedding coincided in time and place with my journey back home. En route to Miami I pondered our split paths. I think we both chose well. I wanted to finish a song I started in Jakarta on the familiar twenty eight hour journey. Most trips home from Yale involved these same rails and modest trains. I set myself up comfortably inside the cafe car with my guitar, expecting no interruptions on this route, as past conductors welcomed the music. This held true, at least a while.

Across my cafe booth sat an ex-marine with a warm, friendly manner. His worldly outview - self forgiveness for joining the force as "a kid", taking in the things he saw and learned maturely with no radical swings towards either political pole - flattened me. His eyes spoke of incredible tragedy and a mind gentled by horrific violence, a violence he once contributed to and might again in anguish. A little later on his military foil, a Coast Guard reserve officer joined us. This Osvald harbored extremely strong views delivered with unabashed prejudice, but his story of the origin of his speech impediment, medals and reserve status quashed much of our fire in retorting back.

Eventually someone convinced me to sing a tune, rather than hum quietly to myself as practice. I sang Streets of London, I'm not sure why. As I began to play nothing really changed, but once I began to sing the ambient sound rushed out of the cafe car like the air from a stoppered vial. I swear I heard the pop of the silence. A group of young black girls behind us loved it and clamored for more after I finished. Even the cafe attendant stopped taking orders from a passenger whose gaze redirected from the overhead menu. I began Forever and a Day only to be hushed halfway through by the barely noticed arrival of a female conductor. She had one of those frumpy not enough sex looks I once noted in ticket office workers as my friends and I argued for art student rates at the Musee Picasso in Paris. One of those arched eyebrows, eyes constantly threatening to roll back into her head, thumb poised above the appropriate button on her walkie talkie to call down retribution. I thought it best not to mess with her and quit, even after she waddled away in post office blue slacks. Until the next morning when a new conductor took over.

My tablemate bought a CD from me directly afterwards.

I chanced to sit to lunch with one of those cafe audience passengers, one Pastor Enrique from Ecuador, a missionary who dropped esses from English and Spanish. I spoke only Spanish with him, determinedly, despite mistake after mistake. A blessed meeting for the both of us, for I brought his contact information to Daniel's pastor father, and he passed energy, enthusiasm and spirit back to me.

Earnings: $9.00, 10 minutes
Song of the Day: Streets of London - Ralph McTell

Friday, October 7, 2011

Who New YorKoming to my Gig? Day 1 by Basak Otus

Terrence dropped by New York City and on the third day of his arrival, he said, “Let there be my new CD.” The release party to go along with that was at Kirk’s apartment at 86th and Lexington. As people started to drop by and made themselves comfortable on the couch (and eventually on the floor), Terrence’s performance began.

Here, I have to take a step back and admit that this was actually the first time that I heard Terrence sing. Yet it took me no more than a few seconds to realize that my freshman year pre-orientation counselor has a uniquely beautiful and comforting voice. He played some well known songs, including the Mario Kart Love Song (one of our favorites), but I was most impressed by those that he composed himself, such as his Forever and a Day. Terrence is a truly talented musician.

The artistic beauty of the night was accompanied by a generally chill environment and Terrence’s entertaining interaction with the audience. In-between the songs, we had a chance to hear more about Terrence’s life as a musician and his stories from his travels all over the globe.

Terrence’s release party turned out to be a perfect Friday night for all of us, and I’m already looking forward to his next visit to the city.



Earnings: $20.00, 2 hours
Song of the Day: Forever & a Day - Terrence Ho