Like Joni Mitchell once said (in a song), “All my bags are packed, and I’m ready to go.” Only item not packed and waiting by the door is the Tascam; first thing tomorrow, I pick up the CD with the Failed Economy Show songs from John, listen to them, pick one and copy it to the Tascam to take to southern Oregon. I have, I think, everything else. Cell phone’s on the charger; cookies are baked and cooling. Even the alarm clock is packed.
En route, I’ll stop by a computer repair place I’d phoned and get to pick up (I hope) a power cable for daughter Kimberly’s old laptop, which will be making the trip with me. At Myrtle Point City hall, I’ll pick up a copy of their budget, ordinance book, and comprehensive plan—light reading before bed. Saturday I get to spend the whole day in a suit, being interviewed and inspected for the city manager job. I’ll spend Friday and Saturday nights in a motel in Myrtle Point, then Sunday and Monday nights with George in Central Point, I get to play music at the Wild Goose Sunday night, practice with Darrin (harmonica) on Sunday and Dan (mandolin) on Monday, and also on Sunday, record guitar tracks for Scott Garriott’s album. It’ll be a full trip, both from the job end and the music end.
And a long trip in the car—first one in months. Is that a chance to finish a song? I do get my best writing work done on long trips.
Another gig (unpaid, of course): got called by the lady doing booking for nearby Rockaway Beach’s 100th anniversary celebration; she said she’d been told, “You have GOT to get these guys” (meaning our band), and you can’t refuse an invitation like that. Dick and I will do it; Rockaway’s new City Hall is a nice place, but small—ideal for an acoustic duo. An hour, nearly all of it my stuff:
Duct Tape (mod. fast country)
Tillamook Railroad Blues (deliberate blues, D)
Bluebird on My Windshield (fast bluegrass)
Armadillo on the Interstate (slow & sleazy)
Hey, Little Chicken (mod. fast sorta blues)
I May Write You from Jupiter (fast bluegrass)
Ain’t Got No Home (mod. slow country)
Welcome to Hebo Waltz (mod. fast waltz)
Doing Battle with the Lawn (fast bluegrass)
Eatin’ Cornflakes from a Hubcap Blues (slow & sleazy)
Milepost 43 (mod. fast country)
I’m Giving Mom a Dead Dog for Christmas (mod. slow country)
11 by me, one by Woody Guthrie. (I want to be able to say “This goes out to all the homeless people out there.” Never had the chance to say that in public.) I might substitute “Leavin’ It to Beaver” (an old song, off the first album) for “Doing Battle with the Lawn.” A nostalgic song would be appropriate for a centennial celebration, and “Beaver” would work well. The song has an awful lot of words, and moves very fast—I’ll have to practice my breathing to make sure I can do it. It’s also a long song (over 6 minutes), so we could end up running a little overtime.
And then also in July, I’ve got the RVTV taping in Ashland Saturday, 18 July, and Garibaldi Days on 25 July. Auditions for the Talent Show at Garibaldi Days will be Thursday, 9 July, and I want to be in that, too.
I am glad I got so much sleep when I had the time…
Joe
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
TWO DAYS...
TWO DAYS till the trip to Myrtle Point. My bag is packed, but everything doesn’t fit; some of it’s going to have to go in another container. I’m packing for five days; I don’t know if I’ll get to stay that long.
The job front actually looks hopeful for a change (it’s probably illusory, but I’ll ride the hope as long as I can). Not only is Myrtle Point interviewing me, but I found out Gold Beach, where I’d also applied to be city manager, is checking my background—and one usually doesn’t do that unless one is seriously considering hiring the person. (And Gold Beach is also in southern Oregon.) And a little water district here on the North Coast has started looking for a new manager—not, for a change, because of financial problems, but simply because the current manager is retiring. I’ll apply. It’d be a great gig; I could commute from Garibaldi, and for a change not have the expense of keeping up two houses.
“The Taboo Song” (tentative title) is done. I managed to include 15 things you’re not supposed to write songs about: (1) dental hygeine, (2) liposuction, (3) pederasty, (4) breast reduction, (5) babies, (6) libraries, (7) deformed puppies, (8) aborton, (9) narcolepsy, (10) litter boxes, (11) Star Trek conventions, (12) football, (13) necrophilia, (14) war, and (15) imaginary women. Compressed as tight as I think I can, it still comes in at just under 2 minutes—20 seconds too long for Lorelei’s 100-second video. I may do it anyway. I did script out a commentary to run onscreen while the song is playing and the slides are “rolling,” and the commentary does talk—briefly—about my hopes for the future of the music business. I’d hate to not use it.
On the other hand, it’s a not-bad little song. I did another recording, with a Rap on the front end, and a lead break and final chorus on the rear—and slowed down just a hair, to make it more danceable—and it came in a little over 4 minutes, which is just about ideal. Not album material by any means, but they may like it at the Wild Goose. And it does feel good to have accomplished something start to finish in a short period of time. URL is http://www.soundclick.com/bands/page_songinfo.cfm/bandID=681142&songID=7750801. It’s on the “Works in Progress” page.
I figured out who I was emulating when I wrote this—it was Scott Garriott, a songwriter I know in Ashland who writes some of the most disturbing folk music I have ever laid ears on. Very traditional formats, with compelling melodies and very, very strange lyrics. I’ll be seeing Scott while I’m down south; he asked if I could record some guitar tracks for an upcoming album—and I’d like to. Scott is the second (of two) non-famous writers I’ve ended up “channeling” in a song (the other is Lou Quarmwater, who lives in Canada).
Still to do for the trip: I’ve got RVTV setlists to dump onto CD for Darrin (harmonica) and Dan (mandolin), whom I want to enlist as leads for the TV show next month. I should have Failed Economy Show songs from John Thursday morning; from that three or four, I’ll pick one to take to southern Oregon on the Tascam to get other people’s lead parts. I’ll have three tracks to play with, so I can do three different leads (more if I want to be creative).
THREE WEEKS to the Garibaldi Days gig—and I know we’re on the schedule, because I’m typesetting the schedule. We will have two hours. We HAVE to practice. That’s twice as long a time frame as we had for the aborted Museum gig, and while I can include a lot of material from the Failed Economy Show, I don’t want to use all of it. I only want to use the Other People’s Songs we did that came out good (and ideally, that had people dancing). There is a difference between playing a benefit concert for a Cause, and playing a gig for entertainment, and I want to make it clear that we understand the distinction. Fun songs, not message ones, in other words.
Joe
The job front actually looks hopeful for a change (it’s probably illusory, but I’ll ride the hope as long as I can). Not only is Myrtle Point interviewing me, but I found out Gold Beach, where I’d also applied to be city manager, is checking my background—and one usually doesn’t do that unless one is seriously considering hiring the person. (And Gold Beach is also in southern Oregon.) And a little water district here on the North Coast has started looking for a new manager—not, for a change, because of financial problems, but simply because the current manager is retiring. I’ll apply. It’d be a great gig; I could commute from Garibaldi, and for a change not have the expense of keeping up two houses.
“The Taboo Song” (tentative title) is done. I managed to include 15 things you’re not supposed to write songs about: (1) dental hygeine, (2) liposuction, (3) pederasty, (4) breast reduction, (5) babies, (6) libraries, (7) deformed puppies, (8) aborton, (9) narcolepsy, (10) litter boxes, (11) Star Trek conventions, (12) football, (13) necrophilia, (14) war, and (15) imaginary women. Compressed as tight as I think I can, it still comes in at just under 2 minutes—20 seconds too long for Lorelei’s 100-second video. I may do it anyway. I did script out a commentary to run onscreen while the song is playing and the slides are “rolling,” and the commentary does talk—briefly—about my hopes for the future of the music business. I’d hate to not use it.
On the other hand, it’s a not-bad little song. I did another recording, with a Rap on the front end, and a lead break and final chorus on the rear—and slowed down just a hair, to make it more danceable—and it came in a little over 4 minutes, which is just about ideal. Not album material by any means, but they may like it at the Wild Goose. And it does feel good to have accomplished something start to finish in a short period of time. URL is http://www.soundclick.com/bands/page_songinfo.cfm/bandID=681142&songID=7750801. It’s on the “Works in Progress” page.
I figured out who I was emulating when I wrote this—it was Scott Garriott, a songwriter I know in Ashland who writes some of the most disturbing folk music I have ever laid ears on. Very traditional formats, with compelling melodies and very, very strange lyrics. I’ll be seeing Scott while I’m down south; he asked if I could record some guitar tracks for an upcoming album—and I’d like to. Scott is the second (of two) non-famous writers I’ve ended up “channeling” in a song (the other is Lou Quarmwater, who lives in Canada).
Still to do for the trip: I’ve got RVTV setlists to dump onto CD for Darrin (harmonica) and Dan (mandolin), whom I want to enlist as leads for the TV show next month. I should have Failed Economy Show songs from John Thursday morning; from that three or four, I’ll pick one to take to southern Oregon on the Tascam to get other people’s lead parts. I’ll have three tracks to play with, so I can do three different leads (more if I want to be creative).
THREE WEEKS to the Garibaldi Days gig—and I know we’re on the schedule, because I’m typesetting the schedule. We will have two hours. We HAVE to practice. That’s twice as long a time frame as we had for the aborted Museum gig, and while I can include a lot of material from the Failed Economy Show, I don’t want to use all of it. I only want to use the Other People’s Songs we did that came out good (and ideally, that had people dancing). There is a difference between playing a benefit concert for a Cause, and playing a gig for entertainment, and I want to make it clear that we understand the distinction. Fun songs, not message ones, in other words.
Joe
Sunday, June 21, 2009
THE LIVE RECORDING (AND A NEW SONG)...
The live recording of “Me and Rufus, and Burnin’ Down the House” at the Tillamook Library didn’t come out too bad; I posted it unedited online on the “Wrabek’s Works in Progress” page (http://soundclick.com/bands/page_songinfo.cfm?bandID=681142&songID=7735760). It’ll do until I have something better (which I may never—that’s happened a lot). I had to use my singing mike for the recording (the instrument mike I’d brought had stopped working), so I had to position it pretty close to me to pick things up. Even with the volumes turned way, way up on the Tascam, my rhythm guitar tended to dominate, though the vocal was okay. Caught the bass, too, though Wayne’s lead guitar is a bit faint, and Dick’s harmonica didn’t come through at all.
Next time—I do want to do this again, with a different song—I think I’ll use the old 6-channel mixer, and three mikes, the singing mike for my voice and two instrument mikes trained on the harmonica and the amp of the lead guitar. Have to use the mixer for this because the Tascam only has one mike input (though you can dump it to two tracks). If I had someone operating the mixer (and that might be possible), they could boost the volume of the appropriate channels during the lead breaks. And we could get a pretty good product, I think. I like to involve people who have good ears in this process, because they can hear things I can’t.
Another new song—a throwaway, I think (though you never know). I got alerted to an article in a British paper that had a list of things you’re not supposed to write popular songs about: war, newborn babies, football, and the like. Some writers from Just Plain Folks added more. And the question had to be asked (by me)—why NOT write about those things? And (for good measure) could they maybe all go in the same song? After all, some of them do rhyme—“liposuction” and “breast reduction,” for instance.
The song got mostly written in the shower (and I take short showers). Just two verses, each with a chorus, then maybe a break and a final chorus. A love song, of course (yes, I really can use liposuction, dental hygeine, litter boxes, and breast reduction in a love song)—and definitely country music. Delivered in what some folks have called my “hangdog” country voice, it could actually sound sweet. The sort of thing people would be embarrassed to dance to, but would want to dance to anyway.
Though a song about the things you’re not supposed to write songs about is potentially a candidate for that 100-second Performing Songwriter video—it is, after all, a commentary on the state of the music business today—it’s probably too much of a conceptual leap. It was just fun. I do have a place where I could perform it, I think; I’m planning on playing at the Wild Goose in Ashland while I’m down in southern Oregon, and those folks have been most appreciative of my sleaziest songs. This one is probably something they’d expect of me.
I also sent off another song to the music publisher in California. She was asking the mailing list for Hallowe’en songs, and I just happen to have one—“Vampire Roumanian Babies.” It’s for a film, I think; if used, the song would be playing on a radio as background music at some point in the movie. I don’t have any illusions about it being precisely what the publisher’s looking for, but you never can tell. The lesson? Always have stuff reasonably professionally recorded you can send off at a moment’s notice. Just because opportunity doesn’t knock often doesn’t mean you shouldn’t always be prepared to answer.
I still need to collect a “base track” to take to southern Oregon on the Road Trip—the band won’t have the opportunity to record any more before I leave, because John’s too busy for a while with his new duties as the new Garibaldi city manager, but he’s got four tracks from the Failed Economy Show that he says came out decent, and I’ll pick from those.
Joe
Next time—I do want to do this again, with a different song—I think I’ll use the old 6-channel mixer, and three mikes, the singing mike for my voice and two instrument mikes trained on the harmonica and the amp of the lead guitar. Have to use the mixer for this because the Tascam only has one mike input (though you can dump it to two tracks). If I had someone operating the mixer (and that might be possible), they could boost the volume of the appropriate channels during the lead breaks. And we could get a pretty good product, I think. I like to involve people who have good ears in this process, because they can hear things I can’t.
Another new song—a throwaway, I think (though you never know). I got alerted to an article in a British paper that had a list of things you’re not supposed to write popular songs about: war, newborn babies, football, and the like. Some writers from Just Plain Folks added more. And the question had to be asked (by me)—why NOT write about those things? And (for good measure) could they maybe all go in the same song? After all, some of them do rhyme—“liposuction” and “breast reduction,” for instance.
The song got mostly written in the shower (and I take short showers). Just two verses, each with a chorus, then maybe a break and a final chorus. A love song, of course (yes, I really can use liposuction, dental hygeine, litter boxes, and breast reduction in a love song)—and definitely country music. Delivered in what some folks have called my “hangdog” country voice, it could actually sound sweet. The sort of thing people would be embarrassed to dance to, but would want to dance to anyway.
Though a song about the things you’re not supposed to write songs about is potentially a candidate for that 100-second Performing Songwriter video—it is, after all, a commentary on the state of the music business today—it’s probably too much of a conceptual leap. It was just fun. I do have a place where I could perform it, I think; I’m planning on playing at the Wild Goose in Ashland while I’m down in southern Oregon, and those folks have been most appreciative of my sleaziest songs. This one is probably something they’d expect of me.
I also sent off another song to the music publisher in California. She was asking the mailing list for Hallowe’en songs, and I just happen to have one—“Vampire Roumanian Babies.” It’s for a film, I think; if used, the song would be playing on a radio as background music at some point in the movie. I don’t have any illusions about it being precisely what the publisher’s looking for, but you never can tell. The lesson? Always have stuff reasonably professionally recorded you can send off at a moment’s notice. Just because opportunity doesn’t knock often doesn’t mean you shouldn’t always be prepared to answer.
I still need to collect a “base track” to take to southern Oregon on the Road Trip—the band won’t have the opportunity to record any more before I leave, because John’s too busy for a while with his new duties as the new Garibaldi city manager, but he’s got four tracks from the Failed Economy Show that he says came out decent, and I’ll pick from those.
Joe
Saturday, June 20, 2009
COUNTDOWN (AND VIDEO THOUGHTS)...
Is writing things down an excuse for doing them? Sometimes I think so (like now). Lots of things to do before the Road Trip: get haircut, shine shoes, assemble books (I will visit one of my favorite bookstores while in Medford), pack (I’ll do it early, so I have plenty of time to worry about what I’m forgetting), get the van tuned up, apply for more jobs.
I ran across an article about some city-manager jobs in Midwestern states going vacant for over a year, because nobody’s applying (the economy is rottener in some places than here, apparently). I found a town in northern Minnesota that looked attractive, and I’ll offer them me and see what happens. The worst they can say is no (and that’s what everyone else is saying, so it ought to be familiar by now). Might do it a few times, even—all it takes is paper, printer ink, and stamps, and I have all those.
A few projects to get done during Countdown Period, too. I have the Garibaldi Days program to design and typeset (a big job, and completely unpaid, but important for re-establishing my reputation as a graphic designer), and a video to do for Lorelei Loveridge, the Canadian-British songwriter who’s reincarnated Performing Songwriter magazine as an online (and interactive) “club” on Facebook. 100 seconds, in which I have to both tell about myself and offer some perspective on the state (and future) of the music industry.
Doable? Of course—I love new projects. I’ll do it like I did “The 30-Second Resume,” with a soundtrack, slide show, and printed comments flashing on screen as the photos go by. 100 seconds is too short to use any existing song, so I’ll have to write one to fit; it probably can’t be any more than two verses. I can play around with speed and musical padding to make it fit. Probably a two-step, since I write country music. The phrase that keeps recurring when I think about it (and which I’d like to use somehow) is:
I’ve learned to lie, and cheat, and sin,
Signed up for Hell and can’t get in—
Another lonely singer at the gates of Babylon.
I think of the slide show tactic as “French video,” since I’ve seen it used most effectively on YouTube by French kids; I don’t know if it’s because they don’t have the technology available, but that’s certainly my problem—the technology exists, but I can’t afford it. However, I have always been good at getting maximum mileage out of what I have, and I have picked up some tricks from watching those French kids’ “videos.” The ability to run printed comments at the same time the other stuff is going on—and to control the timing separately—is a Godsend for me, because I always have too much to say. I can put some of it there. If I have three things (which don’t have to be exactly related) going on at the same time, the “video” becomes not-boring.
Also on the “getting maximum mileage out of what I have” front, I’ll record the musicians at the Tillamook Library performing the latest song, the one I wrote for Sara the librarian about her house fire. Tentatively titled “Me and Rufus, and Burnin’ Down the House.” (Rufus is her English bulldog, who was with her when the fire happened—they’re inseparable.) I can do (sorta) the trick John did when he recorded the band—set one instrument mike (one is all the Tascam can handle without help) out in the audience, trained roughly on my guitar but able to pick up everything in the room that’s amplified, and dump it to 2 tracks on the Tascam.
I played the song for the Friday Night Group, with Sara there, and she (and they) liked it. (Sara probably laughed more than everyone else.) So now they’re familiar (sort of) with it, and hopefully can follow. (Rufus, for his part, didn’t hear the song. He was asleep.)
Joe
I ran across an article about some city-manager jobs in Midwestern states going vacant for over a year, because nobody’s applying (the economy is rottener in some places than here, apparently). I found a town in northern Minnesota that looked attractive, and I’ll offer them me and see what happens. The worst they can say is no (and that’s what everyone else is saying, so it ought to be familiar by now). Might do it a few times, even—all it takes is paper, printer ink, and stamps, and I have all those.
A few projects to get done during Countdown Period, too. I have the Garibaldi Days program to design and typeset (a big job, and completely unpaid, but important for re-establishing my reputation as a graphic designer), and a video to do for Lorelei Loveridge, the Canadian-British songwriter who’s reincarnated Performing Songwriter magazine as an online (and interactive) “club” on Facebook. 100 seconds, in which I have to both tell about myself and offer some perspective on the state (and future) of the music industry.
Doable? Of course—I love new projects. I’ll do it like I did “The 30-Second Resume,” with a soundtrack, slide show, and printed comments flashing on screen as the photos go by. 100 seconds is too short to use any existing song, so I’ll have to write one to fit; it probably can’t be any more than two verses. I can play around with speed and musical padding to make it fit. Probably a two-step, since I write country music. The phrase that keeps recurring when I think about it (and which I’d like to use somehow) is:
I’ve learned to lie, and cheat, and sin,
Signed up for Hell and can’t get in—
Another lonely singer at the gates of Babylon.
I think of the slide show tactic as “French video,” since I’ve seen it used most effectively on YouTube by French kids; I don’t know if it’s because they don’t have the technology available, but that’s certainly my problem—the technology exists, but I can’t afford it. However, I have always been good at getting maximum mileage out of what I have, and I have picked up some tricks from watching those French kids’ “videos.” The ability to run printed comments at the same time the other stuff is going on—and to control the timing separately—is a Godsend for me, because I always have too much to say. I can put some of it there. If I have three things (which don’t have to be exactly related) going on at the same time, the “video” becomes not-boring.
Also on the “getting maximum mileage out of what I have” front, I’ll record the musicians at the Tillamook Library performing the latest song, the one I wrote for Sara the librarian about her house fire. Tentatively titled “Me and Rufus, and Burnin’ Down the House.” (Rufus is her English bulldog, who was with her when the fire happened—they’re inseparable.) I can do (sorta) the trick John did when he recorded the band—set one instrument mike (one is all the Tascam can handle without help) out in the audience, trained roughly on my guitar but able to pick up everything in the room that’s amplified, and dump it to 2 tracks on the Tascam.
I played the song for the Friday Night Group, with Sara there, and she (and they) liked it. (Sara probably laughed more than everyone else.) So now they’re familiar (sort of) with it, and hopefully can follow. (Rufus, for his part, didn’t hear the song. He was asleep.)
Joe
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
THE RVTV SETLIST...
The Rogue Valley Television (RVTV) taping on Saturday, 18 July will be two sets, half an hour each, before a live audience. Southern Oregon Songwriters Assn. (SOSA) will be doing the taping. The shows will air separately on RVTV, the public-television station in Medford-Ashland, so each set (5 songs each) has got to hang together as a separate entity. I thought about doing one set with Darrin playing blues harp lead, and one with Dan doing mandolin, but really, everything I do sounds all right either way—and SOSA said I could have both of ‘em on stage if I wanted, so why not?
So I spec’d out the shows by subject matter instead (roughly)—one show dealing with serious social issues (not necessarily seriously, of course), and one show not:
THE SERIOUS-ISSUES SHOW:
Eatin’ Cornflakes from a Hubcap Blues (slow & sleazy)
Dead Fishes (Elizabethan bluegrass)
No Good Songs About the War (mod. slow two-step)
Free-Range Person (fast bluegrass)
Un-Easy Street (mod. slow but bouncy two-step)
AND THE NOT-SERIOUS SHOW:
Dead Things in the Shower (mod. fast two-step)
Armadillo on the Interstate (slow & sleazy)
Doing Battle with the Lawn (fast bluegrass)
Hey, Little Chicken (mod. slow almost blues)
Santa’s Fallen and He Can’t Get Up (fast bluegrass)
I’ve avoided anything socially unacceptable—no songs about bestiality, cannibalism, anorexia, murdering one’s husband, or Internet porn. (Scary to think I actually have written songs about all those things.) No religion, either. I didn’t even include “The Termite Song” because I wasn’t sure whether you could say “fart” on the air. (It’s not one of George Carlin’s famous “Seven Words You Can’t Say on Television,” but this is Public Broadcasting—you never know.) I still have plenty to pick from—I have enough material to play a two-hour show for just about any kind of audience, I think.
It should be entertaining anyway. The “Serious Issues” setlist includes songs about pollution and the war, and three upbeat down-and-out songs, and the “Not Serious” list has three classics (one recorded in Nashville, and one that appeared on the Philippine Christmas album)—plus I get to mention Gene Burnett’s name on TV (since I wrote the chicken song for his album), and he’ll like that. Two co-writes among the ten. And all but two of the songs are ones either Darrin, or Dan, or both, have played before.
T-Poe, who has become southern Oregon’s poet laureate, I think (and is one of the best poets I know), will be emceeing the shows, and interviewing me in between songs. I need to find out not so much what his questions will consist of as how much time it will take; the shows are 28 minutes long, precisely (TV is a very unforgiving medium), and I want to have this thing scripted out right to the second if I can. I think I’ll send T-Poe a setlist (after I time the songs); he knows I like to do a Rap introducing songs, and we wouldn’t want his questions to duplicate what I’d normally say anyway. There are a couple of songs where the Rap is essential, and a couple where it could be left out entirely with no ill effects.
At the Wild Goose, I think I’ll play “50 Ways to Cure the Depression” (they ought to like the Paul Simon reference), and Stan Good’s “Un-Easy Street,” and one or two old standards, depending on what I’ve got available in the audience for co-musicians. It’d be nice to be able to stick around for the Northwest Pasta & Pizza open mike on Tuesday (hosted by Delonde Bell since Chris Parreira went off to the big time in Austin, Texas). But that Sunday I can play with Darrin, and Monday with Dan—I succeeded in reaching both of them.
Joe
So I spec’d out the shows by subject matter instead (roughly)—one show dealing with serious social issues (not necessarily seriously, of course), and one show not:
THE SERIOUS-ISSUES SHOW:
Eatin’ Cornflakes from a Hubcap Blues (slow & sleazy)
Dead Fishes (Elizabethan bluegrass)
No Good Songs About the War (mod. slow two-step)
Free-Range Person (fast bluegrass)
Un-Easy Street (mod. slow but bouncy two-step)
AND THE NOT-SERIOUS SHOW:
Dead Things in the Shower (mod. fast two-step)
Armadillo on the Interstate (slow & sleazy)
Doing Battle with the Lawn (fast bluegrass)
Hey, Little Chicken (mod. slow almost blues)
Santa’s Fallen and He Can’t Get Up (fast bluegrass)
I’ve avoided anything socially unacceptable—no songs about bestiality, cannibalism, anorexia, murdering one’s husband, or Internet porn. (Scary to think I actually have written songs about all those things.) No religion, either. I didn’t even include “The Termite Song” because I wasn’t sure whether you could say “fart” on the air. (It’s not one of George Carlin’s famous “Seven Words You Can’t Say on Television,” but this is Public Broadcasting—you never know.) I still have plenty to pick from—I have enough material to play a two-hour show for just about any kind of audience, I think.
It should be entertaining anyway. The “Serious Issues” setlist includes songs about pollution and the war, and three upbeat down-and-out songs, and the “Not Serious” list has three classics (one recorded in Nashville, and one that appeared on the Philippine Christmas album)—plus I get to mention Gene Burnett’s name on TV (since I wrote the chicken song for his album), and he’ll like that. Two co-writes among the ten. And all but two of the songs are ones either Darrin, or Dan, or both, have played before.
T-Poe, who has become southern Oregon’s poet laureate, I think (and is one of the best poets I know), will be emceeing the shows, and interviewing me in between songs. I need to find out not so much what his questions will consist of as how much time it will take; the shows are 28 minutes long, precisely (TV is a very unforgiving medium), and I want to have this thing scripted out right to the second if I can. I think I’ll send T-Poe a setlist (after I time the songs); he knows I like to do a Rap introducing songs, and we wouldn’t want his questions to duplicate what I’d normally say anyway. There are a couple of songs where the Rap is essential, and a couple where it could be left out entirely with no ill effects.
At the Wild Goose, I think I’ll play “50 Ways to Cure the Depression” (they ought to like the Paul Simon reference), and Stan Good’s “Un-Easy Street,” and one or two old standards, depending on what I’ve got available in the audience for co-musicians. It’d be nice to be able to stick around for the Northwest Pasta & Pizza open mike on Tuesday (hosted by Delonde Bell since Chris Parreira went off to the big time in Austin, Texas). But that Sunday I can play with Darrin, and Monday with Dan—I succeeded in reaching both of them.
Joe
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
ROAD TRIP!
Haven’t done a Road Trip in a long time. It’s exciting.
I’ll be in a motel Friday and Saturday nights (June 26-27) in Myrtle Point for Interview Days. I have a place to stay down south, got a couple Alan Dean Foster books to bring George that he hasn’t read, a couple of new songs to play at the Wild Goose Sunday night (I probably ought to limit it to a couple—I expect they’ll want to hear some old standards, too). I think I can take daughter Kimberly’s old laptop with me (it needs a power cord, but I think I know where to get one); it’d be neat if I could configure the thing to recognize the Tascam, but I don’t know if that’s possible—the laptop is running (curses!) Windows Vista.
Among the to-do-before-I-leave items is to get the “base” track (rhythm guitar, bass, drums, and vocal) recorded to at least one song to take with me to get Southern Oregon leads on. The Tascam can hold three lead tracks (the “base” recording will be on one track, for reference), and we’ll see what I can round up. I want to have the musicians all primed in advance—I won’t have a lot of time to work with.
I do get to go back to Southern Oregon a second time, for taping July 18 of a TV show on the Medford-Ashland public television station. It’s something the Southern Oregon Songwriters set up a year ago, that involved getting some of the members trained in television production. I have seen some of the product, and it’s really well done. Now it’s my turn to be one of the ones on stage—and on the air. (I’d like to do that one with a band, too, if I could—I know whom I’d like to enlist). And when I go back down there July 18, it’d be nice to take another song with me and get “Southern Oregon leads” recorded to that.
I get to be Elder Statesman again (maybe it’s more like Songwriter Yoda) tomorrow; I’m meeting a younger guy who ran an ad on Craigslist saying he was a singer-songwriter. (I’d responded to his ad, and he telephoned me back right away—very odd behavior for Craigslist.) We’ll see what he’s got; if he fancies himself a writer, wherever he is on the scale, I want to encourage it. He said he was looking for a band, and I do have one of those—and we are looking for a lead guitarist, in fact. I guess it’s me that has to do the first cut, so to speak, and try to guess whether the guy would make a good fit with everybody else, based on what I know or can guess about everybody’s respective personalities.
Sara the librarian had a fire in her house a week ago (didn’t burn it down—just a lot of smoke damage)—and of course, there was a song in it. (Told her so.) She and her bulldog, Rufus, weren’t there when it happened; they were playing music with the Friday Night Group. (Actually, only she was. Rufus was just hanging out.) Sara herself gave me the trigger by telling me jokingly, “Well, Rufus wasn’t cooking.” There are in fact a number of things a bulldog would not be doing that wouldn’t cause a fire, and maybe—hopefully—it’s therapeutic to list them.
At this point, I have three verses, one of which I’m happy with (the other two still need work), and a chorus I’m real happy with. It’d be nice to have it in playable form in time for the next music session at the Tillamook Library—which might be as early as this Saturday. (The group took some time off to let Sara recover from her fire.)
Sara is working on a song herself (she’s one of the songwriters who’s finally germinated in this once-sterile soil of the North Coast)—a Gospel tune, she said, about “burning down the house for Jesus.” I do worry sometimes what kind of writers I’ve encouraged…
Joe
I’ll be in a motel Friday and Saturday nights (June 26-27) in Myrtle Point for Interview Days. I have a place to stay down south, got a couple Alan Dean Foster books to bring George that he hasn’t read, a couple of new songs to play at the Wild Goose Sunday night (I probably ought to limit it to a couple—I expect they’ll want to hear some old standards, too). I think I can take daughter Kimberly’s old laptop with me (it needs a power cord, but I think I know where to get one); it’d be neat if I could configure the thing to recognize the Tascam, but I don’t know if that’s possible—the laptop is running (curses!) Windows Vista.
Among the to-do-before-I-leave items is to get the “base” track (rhythm guitar, bass, drums, and vocal) recorded to at least one song to take with me to get Southern Oregon leads on. The Tascam can hold three lead tracks (the “base” recording will be on one track, for reference), and we’ll see what I can round up. I want to have the musicians all primed in advance—I won’t have a lot of time to work with.
I do get to go back to Southern Oregon a second time, for taping July 18 of a TV show on the Medford-Ashland public television station. It’s something the Southern Oregon Songwriters set up a year ago, that involved getting some of the members trained in television production. I have seen some of the product, and it’s really well done. Now it’s my turn to be one of the ones on stage—and on the air. (I’d like to do that one with a band, too, if I could—I know whom I’d like to enlist). And when I go back down there July 18, it’d be nice to take another song with me and get “Southern Oregon leads” recorded to that.
I get to be Elder Statesman again (maybe it’s more like Songwriter Yoda) tomorrow; I’m meeting a younger guy who ran an ad on Craigslist saying he was a singer-songwriter. (I’d responded to his ad, and he telephoned me back right away—very odd behavior for Craigslist.) We’ll see what he’s got; if he fancies himself a writer, wherever he is on the scale, I want to encourage it. He said he was looking for a band, and I do have one of those—and we are looking for a lead guitarist, in fact. I guess it’s me that has to do the first cut, so to speak, and try to guess whether the guy would make a good fit with everybody else, based on what I know or can guess about everybody’s respective personalities.
Sara the librarian had a fire in her house a week ago (didn’t burn it down—just a lot of smoke damage)—and of course, there was a song in it. (Told her so.) She and her bulldog, Rufus, weren’t there when it happened; they were playing music with the Friday Night Group. (Actually, only she was. Rufus was just hanging out.) Sara herself gave me the trigger by telling me jokingly, “Well, Rufus wasn’t cooking.” There are in fact a number of things a bulldog would not be doing that wouldn’t cause a fire, and maybe—hopefully—it’s therapeutic to list them.
At this point, I have three verses, one of which I’m happy with (the other two still need work), and a chorus I’m real happy with. It’d be nice to have it in playable form in time for the next music session at the Tillamook Library—which might be as early as this Saturday. (The group took some time off to let Sara recover from her fire.)
Sara is working on a song herself (she’s one of the songwriters who’s finally germinated in this once-sterile soil of the North Coast)—a Gospel tune, she said, about “burning down the house for Jesus.” I do worry sometimes what kind of writers I’ve encouraged…
Joe
Sunday, June 14, 2009
AND THE ALBUM...
I am really procrastinating, avoiding filling out yet another job application—this one, to go to work for the big (and financially troubled) state retirement system. I shouldn’t say that hiring me—in any position—would probably raise the general financial competence of the organization, so I won’t. I do have a job interview in two weeks, 250 miles away, and a lot of little things to do to get ready for it, but I don’t dare—and am not going to—wait to see what happens with it. I have been burned way too many times. If they hire me, great. After 14 months out of work, it’ll be a real surprise.
I have contacted a couple of folks down in southern Oregon, letting them know I’m going to be in the area, but I haven’t heard anything back. I probably need to contact more people I know—I know rather a lot of people down there. I’d like to spend a couple of days, play a lot of music, record “ancillary” lead tracks by three people to one song for the album, and maybe find out (since I’ll be down there) what, if anything, is going to happen to my application to be city planner in Phoenix, where I used to work.
Broke the bad news about the Garibaldi Museum gig to the Museum owners back East, and also to the band; I can’t do both the gig and the job interview at the same time (I have not mastered the knack of being in two places at once, though I keep trying), and the job’s got to take precedence—everybody understands that. We will re-schedule; the Museum Board meets in mid-July, and will decide when at that time. I’ve emphasized simply that it needs to be a Saturday, on the offchance I have a job out of town, and it can’t be during Garibaldi Days, because the band already has a gig.
In the meantime, there’s the album. The list of songs looks like this:
Dead Things in the Shower (mod. fast two-step)
Armadillo on the Interstate (slow & sleazy)
The Termite Song (fast bluegrass)
Tillamook Railroad Blues (slow, deliberate blues)
Free-Range Person (fast bluegrass)
No Good Songs About the War (mod. slow two-step)
Rotten Candy (fast bluegrass, with a Gospel beat)
Hey, Little Chicken (mod. slow almost blues)
Doing Battle with the Lawn (fast bluegrass)
Eatin’ Cornflakes from a Hubcap Blues (slow & sleazy)
Un-Easy Street (mod. slow two-step)
Naked Space Hamsters in Love (fast bluegrass)
Two songs co-written with others (so Outside Services the Record Company will have to do the paying-royalties thing); two serious songs, too—twice as many as I’ve done on an album in the past. About half fast and half slow, the way I’d usually organize a concert setlist. (List above isn’t necessarily in order, though.)
The setlist is dictated at least in part by what the band know how to play; John (bass) and Dick (blues harp) have played all of them, and Chris (drummer) about half of them. John and chris come from heavy-metal backgrounds, and will inevitably put a rock ‘n’ roll spin on the bluegrass songs—and it works real well. For some of the songs, I can do an acceptable lead guitar, and we’ll overlay it; I want Wayne’s barroom-country guitar lead on some of the songs if I can get it. And one of the songs (either “Free-Range Person” or “Naked Space Hamsters in Love,” I think) I’d like to take down to southern Oregon with me, on the Tascam, and get some leads recorded by people I know there.
Plenty to do, even though there’s music only Friday night this week. Maybe we can get some recording in.
Joe
I have contacted a couple of folks down in southern Oregon, letting them know I’m going to be in the area, but I haven’t heard anything back. I probably need to contact more people I know—I know rather a lot of people down there. I’d like to spend a couple of days, play a lot of music, record “ancillary” lead tracks by three people to one song for the album, and maybe find out (since I’ll be down there) what, if anything, is going to happen to my application to be city planner in Phoenix, where I used to work.
Broke the bad news about the Garibaldi Museum gig to the Museum owners back East, and also to the band; I can’t do both the gig and the job interview at the same time (I have not mastered the knack of being in two places at once, though I keep trying), and the job’s got to take precedence—everybody understands that. We will re-schedule; the Museum Board meets in mid-July, and will decide when at that time. I’ve emphasized simply that it needs to be a Saturday, on the offchance I have a job out of town, and it can’t be during Garibaldi Days, because the band already has a gig.
In the meantime, there’s the album. The list of songs looks like this:
Dead Things in the Shower (mod. fast two-step)
Armadillo on the Interstate (slow & sleazy)
The Termite Song (fast bluegrass)
Tillamook Railroad Blues (slow, deliberate blues)
Free-Range Person (fast bluegrass)
No Good Songs About the War (mod. slow two-step)
Rotten Candy (fast bluegrass, with a Gospel beat)
Hey, Little Chicken (mod. slow almost blues)
Doing Battle with the Lawn (fast bluegrass)
Eatin’ Cornflakes from a Hubcap Blues (slow & sleazy)
Un-Easy Street (mod. slow two-step)
Naked Space Hamsters in Love (fast bluegrass)
Two songs co-written with others (so Outside Services the Record Company will have to do the paying-royalties thing); two serious songs, too—twice as many as I’ve done on an album in the past. About half fast and half slow, the way I’d usually organize a concert setlist. (List above isn’t necessarily in order, though.)
The setlist is dictated at least in part by what the band know how to play; John (bass) and Dick (blues harp) have played all of them, and Chris (drummer) about half of them. John and chris come from heavy-metal backgrounds, and will inevitably put a rock ‘n’ roll spin on the bluegrass songs—and it works real well. For some of the songs, I can do an acceptable lead guitar, and we’ll overlay it; I want Wayne’s barroom-country guitar lead on some of the songs if I can get it. And one of the songs (either “Free-Range Person” or “Naked Space Hamsters in Love,” I think) I’d like to take down to southern Oregon with me, on the Tascam, and get some leads recorded by people I know there.
Plenty to do, even though there’s music only Friday night this week. Maybe we can get some recording in.
Joe
Saturday, June 13, 2009
THE MORE THINGS CHANGE...
The more things change… well, the more they change, I think. I had an issue of the blog already written, and just the past 24 hours has rendered nearly all of it irrelevant. Instead, here’s what’s going on:
I have a job interview (in Myrtle Point, in southern Oregon, to be their city manager) Saturday, 27 June. They want me all day, and maybe part of the day before. That’s the day of the Garibaldi Museum gig, so the gig is going to have to be postponed (my preference) or cancelled—I can’t let it get in the way of a job. That the band doesn’t have a lead player for that date may accordingly be okay. Maybe another date will work better. I still have to call the owners of the Museum and break the news to them; they’re back East, so I’ve got a 3-hour time difference to contend with.
I do want to take the opportunity to visit friends in Central Point, Phoenix and Ashland while I’m that close (it looks from the map like it might be a couple hours’ drive away), and I’ve contacted them about a visit. There’d be a chance to play music at the Wild Goose in Ashland that Sunday night—I don’t know if there’s anything happening Saturday night (yet—I’ve asked).
And then, I’ve got lots to do here in Garibaldi. On the offchance I might actually be offered a job out of town (I refuse to get my hopes up—it’s been way too long), I would like to get the base tracks (rhythm guitar, bass, drums, and vocal) done for the 12 songs I’ve picked out; I would especially like to be able to take the Tascam to southern Oregon with one of the songs in its little camera-chip brain and get some lead tracks recorded by people down there. The band here can record those base tracks in the course of practicing the material—we recorded two of the last three songs we practiced, and one of the recordings was real good—record-quality stuff. Even without a Museum gig, we still have Garibaldi Days to work on—that’s the end of July.
There are “ancillary” lead tracks I can record for the album here in town, too. It occurred to me at the Friday Night Group’s get-together that one thing that would sound real good on “Naked Space Hamsters in Love” is a musical saw—it lends a very other-worldly tone to the music—and I happen to know someone who plays saw (what would you call him?—a sawyer?). I’ll give him a draft recording (just me and guitar) to practice with—he’d like that—and then just take the Tascam over to his house to record the saw part when the time comes. I don’t know if there are any other “ancillary” parts I’d want to put on any other songs, but if I do, I have a way to do it easily, that I’m sure will work.
More opportunities, maybe: I ran into a guitar/banjo player I know (he was at the unemployment office, too) who said he’s playing roughly five nights a week, mostly in south Tillamook County, but was complaining his partner, who plays guitar, wasn’t interested in that full a schedule because he still had a job to go to. He said most of his gigs are unpaid, but the crowds are getting bigger (a symptom of the Failed Economy I mentioned before) and tips are real good. We traded phone numbers.
And I got banned from Whitby Shores, too—don’t know why. It’s tempting to assume it was something I did (I usually blame myself for problems), but in this case, I don’t think I actually did anything. It’s Len Amsterdam’s Website—he created it, and he runs it, and he can have or not have around anybody he wants to. I do have ways of staying in touch with most of the people I met there; I will have to find another OMD to archive my music at (I do not want to be dependent on Soundclick, with their software problems), but that’s doable, too. I have an account at ReverbNation I’ve never used, and maybe it’s time I did.
Joe
I have a job interview (in Myrtle Point, in southern Oregon, to be their city manager) Saturday, 27 June. They want me all day, and maybe part of the day before. That’s the day of the Garibaldi Museum gig, so the gig is going to have to be postponed (my preference) or cancelled—I can’t let it get in the way of a job. That the band doesn’t have a lead player for that date may accordingly be okay. Maybe another date will work better. I still have to call the owners of the Museum and break the news to them; they’re back East, so I’ve got a 3-hour time difference to contend with.
I do want to take the opportunity to visit friends in Central Point, Phoenix and Ashland while I’m that close (it looks from the map like it might be a couple hours’ drive away), and I’ve contacted them about a visit. There’d be a chance to play music at the Wild Goose in Ashland that Sunday night—I don’t know if there’s anything happening Saturday night (yet—I’ve asked).
And then, I’ve got lots to do here in Garibaldi. On the offchance I might actually be offered a job out of town (I refuse to get my hopes up—it’s been way too long), I would like to get the base tracks (rhythm guitar, bass, drums, and vocal) done for the 12 songs I’ve picked out; I would especially like to be able to take the Tascam to southern Oregon with one of the songs in its little camera-chip brain and get some lead tracks recorded by people down there. The band here can record those base tracks in the course of practicing the material—we recorded two of the last three songs we practiced, and one of the recordings was real good—record-quality stuff. Even without a Museum gig, we still have Garibaldi Days to work on—that’s the end of July.
There are “ancillary” lead tracks I can record for the album here in town, too. It occurred to me at the Friday Night Group’s get-together that one thing that would sound real good on “Naked Space Hamsters in Love” is a musical saw—it lends a very other-worldly tone to the music—and I happen to know someone who plays saw (what would you call him?—a sawyer?). I’ll give him a draft recording (just me and guitar) to practice with—he’d like that—and then just take the Tascam over to his house to record the saw part when the time comes. I don’t know if there are any other “ancillary” parts I’d want to put on any other songs, but if I do, I have a way to do it easily, that I’m sure will work.
More opportunities, maybe: I ran into a guitar/banjo player I know (he was at the unemployment office, too) who said he’s playing roughly five nights a week, mostly in south Tillamook County, but was complaining his partner, who plays guitar, wasn’t interested in that full a schedule because he still had a job to go to. He said most of his gigs are unpaid, but the crowds are getting bigger (a symptom of the Failed Economy I mentioned before) and tips are real good. We traded phone numbers.
And I got banned from Whitby Shores, too—don’t know why. It’s tempting to assume it was something I did (I usually blame myself for problems), but in this case, I don’t think I actually did anything. It’s Len Amsterdam’s Website—he created it, and he runs it, and he can have or not have around anybody he wants to. I do have ways of staying in touch with most of the people I met there; I will have to find another OMD to archive my music at (I do not want to be dependent on Soundclick, with their software problems), but that’s doable, too. I have an account at ReverbNation I’ve never used, and maybe it’s time I did.
Joe
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
THIRSTY LION POST-MORTEM...
ZWell, I won’t say the paranoia about the Thirsty Lion performance was unjustified—butterflies definitely make you perform better—but it did go okay. Big crowd—most seats in the place were filled, because there’d been a Lakers-vs.-Orlando basketball game and most of the crowd stuck around for the music afterwards. They listened (good), and some of them stopped me afterwards to tell me they’d liked the material (and nobody else got that that I could see). I was on first (of four acts, not counting Eric the host), and that was good, too, because the audience did start drifting off after a while. Sold one CD, got a few more names on the “joelist” (including one of the other songwriters who was there).
My new, cheap soundhole pickup wasn’t working (thank you, Guitar Center), so I plugged back in my ancient D’Armand, which does work (despite sounding electric). It’s roughly 30 years old (I got it when I played with the Dodson Drifters); new ones, according to the music store owner in Forest Grove, cost nearly $300 today. I can see why. That thing may last longer than I do.
The competition? Well, I felt I could give them all pointers about writing. Makes me feel like some sort of Elder Statesman—have I really been around the block that many times?—but I guess my insistence on getting feedback for almost everything I do, and on hanging out with other writers and musicians to pick up things from them, has paid off to an extent. I think I can spot at least the obvious what-works-and-what-doesn’t things. I think the other players (one girl, one guy, and one duo—and the guy’s been performing professionally for a long time) have been operating in a vacuum. And we all know what vacuums do.
It would be tempting (and probably beneficial) to sit ‘em all down together and say “Let’s talk about what we’ve written, and poke holes in it.” There’s a songwriters’ group in Eugene (OR) that does that; they’re the only one I’ve found (and I haven’t made it to any of their sessions—they are 200 miles away, after all). The Southern Oregon Songwriters Assn. never did that, but they do something else that’s important: they had tons of opportunities for their members to perform in public, before live audiences consisting mostly of other writers, and you could see what other people did that worked with those audiences, and that, too, helped a lot. (And the Eugene group, for its part, doesn’t appear to do any performance opportunities.) It’d be fantastic to be able to do both.
Everybody in the bar was given little “ballots” with the names of the performers to check off and deposit in a bucket on the bar. To the extent people actually voted (and I don’t know if they did), I probably got the bulk of the votes, even though some of the other performers had fans there and I didn’t. (Most of the people who told me they were going to come never did. I suppose I should expect that by now.) Eric said he’d tally all the votes from all the Tuesday night performances in June, and whoever gets the most votes is going to get the weekend gig. I obviously have no control over what happens those other nights; I know that last Tuesday (when I came in to check out the hall), the crowd was pretty small—because there was no big ball game on. So that enters into the calculations, too, and it’s something none of the writers have any control over.
If I did get that weekend gig at the Thirsty Lion, I would want accompaniment if I could get it. My ideal choice would be Don Johnson, the blues harp player from our defunct Portland band; he’s a novice at the harmonica, but he is good, and he might be free on the weekend. I know I can do okay playing solo (the Thirsty Lion performance was a good reinforcement), but I still think me and solo guitar for an hour or two is a little hard to take. We’ll see if I get the chance to worry about it.
And the job interview Tuesday afternoon? That went well, too—a little short, which worries me, but I’ll find out Friday if I made it to the “next level.” In the meantime, I’ve got more jobs to apply for, and band practice tonight. Never, never, never stop selling.
Joe
My new, cheap soundhole pickup wasn’t working (thank you, Guitar Center), so I plugged back in my ancient D’Armand, which does work (despite sounding electric). It’s roughly 30 years old (I got it when I played with the Dodson Drifters); new ones, according to the music store owner in Forest Grove, cost nearly $300 today. I can see why. That thing may last longer than I do.
The competition? Well, I felt I could give them all pointers about writing. Makes me feel like some sort of Elder Statesman—have I really been around the block that many times?—but I guess my insistence on getting feedback for almost everything I do, and on hanging out with other writers and musicians to pick up things from them, has paid off to an extent. I think I can spot at least the obvious what-works-and-what-doesn’t things. I think the other players (one girl, one guy, and one duo—and the guy’s been performing professionally for a long time) have been operating in a vacuum. And we all know what vacuums do.
It would be tempting (and probably beneficial) to sit ‘em all down together and say “Let’s talk about what we’ve written, and poke holes in it.” There’s a songwriters’ group in Eugene (OR) that does that; they’re the only one I’ve found (and I haven’t made it to any of their sessions—they are 200 miles away, after all). The Southern Oregon Songwriters Assn. never did that, but they do something else that’s important: they had tons of opportunities for their members to perform in public, before live audiences consisting mostly of other writers, and you could see what other people did that worked with those audiences, and that, too, helped a lot. (And the Eugene group, for its part, doesn’t appear to do any performance opportunities.) It’d be fantastic to be able to do both.
Everybody in the bar was given little “ballots” with the names of the performers to check off and deposit in a bucket on the bar. To the extent people actually voted (and I don’t know if they did), I probably got the bulk of the votes, even though some of the other performers had fans there and I didn’t. (Most of the people who told me they were going to come never did. I suppose I should expect that by now.) Eric said he’d tally all the votes from all the Tuesday night performances in June, and whoever gets the most votes is going to get the weekend gig. I obviously have no control over what happens those other nights; I know that last Tuesday (when I came in to check out the hall), the crowd was pretty small—because there was no big ball game on. So that enters into the calculations, too, and it’s something none of the writers have any control over.
If I did get that weekend gig at the Thirsty Lion, I would want accompaniment if I could get it. My ideal choice would be Don Johnson, the blues harp player from our defunct Portland band; he’s a novice at the harmonica, but he is good, and he might be free on the weekend. I know I can do okay playing solo (the Thirsty Lion performance was a good reinforcement), but I still think me and solo guitar for an hour or two is a little hard to take. We’ll see if I get the chance to worry about it.
And the job interview Tuesday afternoon? That went well, too—a little short, which worries me, but I’ll find out Friday if I made it to the “next level.” In the meantime, I’ve got more jobs to apply for, and band practice tonight. Never, never, never stop selling.
Joe
Sunday, June 7, 2009
OF LEAD PLAYERS AND CHICKENS...
How do you find a lead player on short notice? Wayne’s not sure he can do it (I’m not sure whether that means he just doesn’t want to do it), and the gig—a paying gig—is only three weeks away. The rest of the band will be tight—John (bass) and Chris (drums) are good, and we’ve been practicing—but I can’t do both rhythm and lead, and sing. (I’m not sure I can do any of those things separately, much less together.)
So I stopped by the local (Tillamook) music store en route to playing music at the library Saturday afternoon. The music store is small, and a bit novice about this stuff (the owner’s new), but I figured if anyone was going to be a clearinghouse for musicians, it ought to be the music store, and if she wasn’t one, my request should get her started. I did happen to run into the guy (maybe he’s just one of the guys) who teaches guitar lessons, and posed the problem with him, and left him a setlist and a copy of my CD; he said if he couldn’t do it himself, he probably knew someone who could, and would let me know in a couple of days. I will keep my fingers crossed.
I can dump drafts of all the songs onto a CD for whoever’s doing it, and that’ll reduce (maybe to almost nothing) the need for practice. On principle, the songs on the recordings are the way we do them in real life (or is that vice versa?), so there’s nothing strange to worry about. I should make copies for Chris and John, too, come to think of it—I haven’t done that yet. We (whoever “we” end up being) should get together at least once, so we know what to expect of each other.
If it works—I hope it works—I will not worry further. We do have the Garibaldi Days gig coming up in July, but we can do it with Dick playing harmonica lead. On the other hand, if we end up with a Real Find in the form of our impromptu lead player, I’ll want to continue using him or her, too.
An unrelated idea—came to me after visiting the music store. I know of four chicken songs written during the past year (got to play two of them Friday night); two are by me, one by Jack Fischer, and one by Gene Burnett. Gene started it, by writing “Free-Range Chicken” and then announcing he wanted to put out an album of chicken songs. Jack’s song addressed the question which came first, the chicken or the egg, and I wrote one that answered the question why the chicken crossed the road. I had even spec’d out an album cover before Gene announced he was abandoning the project.
But I know a fellow who’s a salesman for Foster Farms, the grown-in-Oregon chicken people who have been running some rather funny chicken commercials on television. Might Foster Farms be interested in chicken songs? They are all humorous (it’s hard to be serious about chickens). All the aforementioned songs have potential as soundtracks for commercials; alternatively, what about an album of chicken songs as a promotional item? I suppose it’s worthwhile contacting the fellow.
The plot, of course, is a little thicker—life is rarely simple. Aforementioned chicken salesman happens to be one of the people on the Phoenix City Council who wanted to get rid of me as city manager; he’s no longer on the Council, but I doubt he’s forgotten. So there’s a certain amount of trepidation on my part about contacting him. Still, he is a good salesman, and he should appreciate a good idea. I don’t know if he’s in a position in the organization to take advantage of it. I suppose all one can do is ask.
Music at the Forestry Center Sunday, band practice Monday, and the Thirsty lion gig Tuesday (along with a job interview). It’s still going to be a busy week.
Joe
So I stopped by the local (Tillamook) music store en route to playing music at the library Saturday afternoon. The music store is small, and a bit novice about this stuff (the owner’s new), but I figured if anyone was going to be a clearinghouse for musicians, it ought to be the music store, and if she wasn’t one, my request should get her started. I did happen to run into the guy (maybe he’s just one of the guys) who teaches guitar lessons, and posed the problem with him, and left him a setlist and a copy of my CD; he said if he couldn’t do it himself, he probably knew someone who could, and would let me know in a couple of days. I will keep my fingers crossed.
I can dump drafts of all the songs onto a CD for whoever’s doing it, and that’ll reduce (maybe to almost nothing) the need for practice. On principle, the songs on the recordings are the way we do them in real life (or is that vice versa?), so there’s nothing strange to worry about. I should make copies for Chris and John, too, come to think of it—I haven’t done that yet. We (whoever “we” end up being) should get together at least once, so we know what to expect of each other.
If it works—I hope it works—I will not worry further. We do have the Garibaldi Days gig coming up in July, but we can do it with Dick playing harmonica lead. On the other hand, if we end up with a Real Find in the form of our impromptu lead player, I’ll want to continue using him or her, too.
An unrelated idea—came to me after visiting the music store. I know of four chicken songs written during the past year (got to play two of them Friday night); two are by me, one by Jack Fischer, and one by Gene Burnett. Gene started it, by writing “Free-Range Chicken” and then announcing he wanted to put out an album of chicken songs. Jack’s song addressed the question which came first, the chicken or the egg, and I wrote one that answered the question why the chicken crossed the road. I had even spec’d out an album cover before Gene announced he was abandoning the project.
But I know a fellow who’s a salesman for Foster Farms, the grown-in-Oregon chicken people who have been running some rather funny chicken commercials on television. Might Foster Farms be interested in chicken songs? They are all humorous (it’s hard to be serious about chickens). All the aforementioned songs have potential as soundtracks for commercials; alternatively, what about an album of chicken songs as a promotional item? I suppose it’s worthwhile contacting the fellow.
The plot, of course, is a little thicker—life is rarely simple. Aforementioned chicken salesman happens to be one of the people on the Phoenix City Council who wanted to get rid of me as city manager; he’s no longer on the Council, but I doubt he’s forgotten. So there’s a certain amount of trepidation on my part about contacting him. Still, he is a good salesman, and he should appreciate a good idea. I don’t know if he’s in a position in the organization to take advantage of it. I suppose all one can do is ask.
Music at the Forestry Center Sunday, band practice Monday, and the Thirsty lion gig Tuesday (along with a job interview). It’s still going to be a busy week.
Joe
Friday, June 5, 2009
BAND PRACTICE (AND RECORDING)...
At band practice tonight, we recorded the base tracks (rhythm guitar, bass and drums) for the two Dylan contest songs, “No Good Songs About the War” and “For Their own Ends.” Both came out good. The war song was just about perfect; guitar, drums, bass, even the scratch vocal were all about as perfect as one could get—on just the second take, no less.
All recorded live, using only two microphones: a carefully-positioned instrument mike picking up the guitar (amplified), bass (ditto), and vocal, and my singing mike positioned overhead over the drums—picking up (because of its small, narrow “cone”) more of the treble sounds (snare, cymbals and blocks) and less of the heavy thumps of the tom-tom and bass drum. Very nice product. I think John is going to be one heck of a sound engineer.
“No Good Songs About the War” needs only the harmonica lead, really, and it’s done. I’ll try laying down a simple lead guitar track, but it may be superfluous. On “For Their Own Ends,” John would like to re-do the bass (making it simpler) and Chris the drums (making them louder), and we can do that, using just my rhythm guitar as the base for them to play along with. We will want Dick’s lead harmonica there, too (underscoring the Dylan aspect of the song), but I’ll want a guitar lead as well—a simple one, of course, since that’s all I can do. I might use the Strat just on principle, but I might get a more competent product using the acoustic guitar, since I’m more familiar with it. (It’s easier to mute mistakes on the acoustic guitar. The Strat is less forgiving.)
We also practiced “The Termite Song,” and that came out good, too. Slowed it down a little bit, which allowed me to enunciate the words better and let Chris and John put a rock rhythm to it.
Practice Monday and Thursday next week after Chris and John get off work. That gives us about two hours per session to work with, and if we can continue to perfect three songs each time, we’ll be doing fine. The Museum gig is only an hour (12 songs, and Chris is already familiar with half of them from the Failed Economy Show).
We won’t have Dick for the Museum show—he and Carol will be out of town—so I’ll have to find a lead player of some sort. Can’t do this as a trio. I’d like two leads, but would settle for one. Dick will be here for Garibaldi Days, and I made sure to get both the Talent Show (2-4 p.m.) and the band’s performance (4-6 p.m.) on Dick’s and Carol’s schedules so nothing else could get in the way.
On the job front, along with one rejection letter, I got a notice of an interview; yes, some potentially misguided jurisdiction maybe wants me for their city manager. The interview will be by phone on Tuesday, right before I leave for the Thirsty Lion gig in Portland. They had “supplemental questions” for me to answer, too, and I’ve done it, but it wasn’t easy. How do you explain why you want to move to a town you’ve never been to?
Theresa, the job coach at Goodwill Industries, had a number of good suggestions for “dumbing down” my resume to be less intimidating, so I’d have a chance at getting a non-top-dog job, and I’ll implement them. Applied for two more jobs today, one of them local (at the Tillamook Cheese Factory).
And I have a diagnosis—not a good one—on what’s been making “Alice” the ‘puter act up lately. The latest you-have-no-choice-but-to-download-this “help” file from the phone company’s DSL service was corrupt—the second time that’s happened—only this time, it damaged part of Alice’s hard drive. Unfortunately, there’s only 12% of Alice’s hard drive left empty, after five years of word processing, music, and graphic design work. It is time, I’m afraid, to install the second hard drive. (Good thing I have a spare.) Might as well do it while I’m unemployed and have the time.
Joe
All recorded live, using only two microphones: a carefully-positioned instrument mike picking up the guitar (amplified), bass (ditto), and vocal, and my singing mike positioned overhead over the drums—picking up (because of its small, narrow “cone”) more of the treble sounds (snare, cymbals and blocks) and less of the heavy thumps of the tom-tom and bass drum. Very nice product. I think John is going to be one heck of a sound engineer.
“No Good Songs About the War” needs only the harmonica lead, really, and it’s done. I’ll try laying down a simple lead guitar track, but it may be superfluous. On “For Their Own Ends,” John would like to re-do the bass (making it simpler) and Chris the drums (making them louder), and we can do that, using just my rhythm guitar as the base for them to play along with. We will want Dick’s lead harmonica there, too (underscoring the Dylan aspect of the song), but I’ll want a guitar lead as well—a simple one, of course, since that’s all I can do. I might use the Strat just on principle, but I might get a more competent product using the acoustic guitar, since I’m more familiar with it. (It’s easier to mute mistakes on the acoustic guitar. The Strat is less forgiving.)
We also practiced “The Termite Song,” and that came out good, too. Slowed it down a little bit, which allowed me to enunciate the words better and let Chris and John put a rock rhythm to it.
Practice Monday and Thursday next week after Chris and John get off work. That gives us about two hours per session to work with, and if we can continue to perfect three songs each time, we’ll be doing fine. The Museum gig is only an hour (12 songs, and Chris is already familiar with half of them from the Failed Economy Show).
We won’t have Dick for the Museum show—he and Carol will be out of town—so I’ll have to find a lead player of some sort. Can’t do this as a trio. I’d like two leads, but would settle for one. Dick will be here for Garibaldi Days, and I made sure to get both the Talent Show (2-4 p.m.) and the band’s performance (4-6 p.m.) on Dick’s and Carol’s schedules so nothing else could get in the way.
On the job front, along with one rejection letter, I got a notice of an interview; yes, some potentially misguided jurisdiction maybe wants me for their city manager. The interview will be by phone on Tuesday, right before I leave for the Thirsty Lion gig in Portland. They had “supplemental questions” for me to answer, too, and I’ve done it, but it wasn’t easy. How do you explain why you want to move to a town you’ve never been to?
Theresa, the job coach at Goodwill Industries, had a number of good suggestions for “dumbing down” my resume to be less intimidating, so I’d have a chance at getting a non-top-dog job, and I’ll implement them. Applied for two more jobs today, one of them local (at the Tillamook Cheese Factory).
And I have a diagnosis—not a good one—on what’s been making “Alice” the ‘puter act up lately. The latest you-have-no-choice-but-to-download-this “help” file from the phone company’s DSL service was corrupt—the second time that’s happened—only this time, it damaged part of Alice’s hard drive. Unfortunately, there’s only 12% of Alice’s hard drive left empty, after five years of word processing, music, and graphic design work. It is time, I’m afraid, to install the second hard drive. (Good thing I have a spare.) Might as well do it while I’m unemployed and have the time.
Joe
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
VISITING THE THIRSTY LION...
Well, the Thirsty Lion IS a big place—and a nice one. Big stage (emcee Eric said they have bands on the weekends), decent PA system (not much different from the one Sharma bought for the Portland band’s Red Room show). Stayed for three acts—Eric himself, and two others.
There will be good competition for that paying gig. The guys and gals I heard are not amateurs. (Well, I guess they are amateurs by definition, but some of them have been around the block a few times, are comfortable in front of audiences, and some of them are playing professionally.) I am not sure how this “showcase” is going to turn into a weekend gig if what they have on weekends is bands, and the Tuesday night stuff is pointedly soloists (or duoists—there was one duo). I did emphasize to Eric that I could assemble a band if needed. I don’t know how many of the others could. I got the impression from their styles they had mostly played only with themselves.
(And I wonder what connection these guys and gals have with the Portland Songwriters Assn.? I may have to join to find out So many things I could use money for…)
I’m not going to change the setlist; it is what it is, and it will go over okay, I think, with the mostly younger (and probably college) crowd that frequents the place. I won’t be drawing in the fans like that one duo did, because I know rather few people in the Portland area. This will be an opportunity to MAKE fans instead.
It’s not too discouraging that most of what these guys are playing is folk music; Portland is not a hotbed of country music, and never has been. Neither was southern Oregon, when I moved there—but a lot of people seemed to appreciate it when they were exposed to it (at least, to the way I play it). Maybe it’s that people don’t consider country music an expressive medium. I do, and I can prove it—but I grew into it, too, playing rhythm guitar with (and writing songs for) The Dodson Drifters, years ago.
The mindless pap that passes for “country music” on the radio is enough to turn most people off to the genre, I suppose—but that’s music controlled by bookkeepers, primarily focused on making money, and with most of the imagination part taken out. I think most other genres are probably the same way these days, and that could be why a vibrant live music scene is developing in so many places. The commercial music industry has ceased to have worthwhile entertainment to offer, and people are going somewhere else.
I did get one new gig out of the trip to Portland. The Burgerville (fast-food franchise with ‘50s kitsch, mostly centered in Portland) in the Hawthorne neighborhood, where daughter Kimberly and I had dinner, has started doing live music on Tuesday nights; I gave them a CD, and one of the Thirsty Lion posters, and they signed me up on the spot. A kid band (not sure what else to call them) was setting up as we were leaving, and a crowd was drifting in. So it does work. 2-hour show, 6-8 p.m. Tuesday 25 August, and of course it’s unpaid except for the free food. I’ll blanket the area with posters, get a 6th pressing of the CD (I’m almost out—again), and see what I can do. I’ll need a little amplification—not much; maybe I can borrow Sara-the-librarian’s little 2-channel PA (she decided not to sell it when she got her new one, but said I could borrow it if needed).
Also stopped by the Airway Café; I’d solicited a gig from them a while back (a couple of times, I think), responding to an ad on Craigslist, but never got an answer. They, too, got a CD and a Thirsty Lion poster, and maybe will remember me this time. It is a nice place, good performance area, and professional PA system that I assume belongs to the café. (If not, I guess I’d hit up Sara again. If I’m playing solo, I don’t need much.) An acoustic duo was playing when I went in. They do charge a gate fee for these (and performers get paid).
Music Friday, Saturday, and Sunday this week—I’d forgotten about the first-Sunday-of-the-month thing at the Forestry Center. This time, I’ll go. Most of the attendees are from the west side of Portland, and I should be looking for opportunities to play. Three weeks till the Museum concert, and the band needs to practice more, too.
Joe
There will be good competition for that paying gig. The guys and gals I heard are not amateurs. (Well, I guess they are amateurs by definition, but some of them have been around the block a few times, are comfortable in front of audiences, and some of them are playing professionally.) I am not sure how this “showcase” is going to turn into a weekend gig if what they have on weekends is bands, and the Tuesday night stuff is pointedly soloists (or duoists—there was one duo). I did emphasize to Eric that I could assemble a band if needed. I don’t know how many of the others could. I got the impression from their styles they had mostly played only with themselves.
(And I wonder what connection these guys and gals have with the Portland Songwriters Assn.? I may have to join to find out So many things I could use money for…)
I’m not going to change the setlist; it is what it is, and it will go over okay, I think, with the mostly younger (and probably college) crowd that frequents the place. I won’t be drawing in the fans like that one duo did, because I know rather few people in the Portland area. This will be an opportunity to MAKE fans instead.
It’s not too discouraging that most of what these guys are playing is folk music; Portland is not a hotbed of country music, and never has been. Neither was southern Oregon, when I moved there—but a lot of people seemed to appreciate it when they were exposed to it (at least, to the way I play it). Maybe it’s that people don’t consider country music an expressive medium. I do, and I can prove it—but I grew into it, too, playing rhythm guitar with (and writing songs for) The Dodson Drifters, years ago.
The mindless pap that passes for “country music” on the radio is enough to turn most people off to the genre, I suppose—but that’s music controlled by bookkeepers, primarily focused on making money, and with most of the imagination part taken out. I think most other genres are probably the same way these days, and that could be why a vibrant live music scene is developing in so many places. The commercial music industry has ceased to have worthwhile entertainment to offer, and people are going somewhere else.
I did get one new gig out of the trip to Portland. The Burgerville (fast-food franchise with ‘50s kitsch, mostly centered in Portland) in the Hawthorne neighborhood, where daughter Kimberly and I had dinner, has started doing live music on Tuesday nights; I gave them a CD, and one of the Thirsty Lion posters, and they signed me up on the spot. A kid band (not sure what else to call them) was setting up as we were leaving, and a crowd was drifting in. So it does work. 2-hour show, 6-8 p.m. Tuesday 25 August, and of course it’s unpaid except for the free food. I’ll blanket the area with posters, get a 6th pressing of the CD (I’m almost out—again), and see what I can do. I’ll need a little amplification—not much; maybe I can borrow Sara-the-librarian’s little 2-channel PA (she decided not to sell it when she got her new one, but said I could borrow it if needed).
Also stopped by the Airway Café; I’d solicited a gig from them a while back (a couple of times, I think), responding to an ad on Craigslist, but never got an answer. They, too, got a CD and a Thirsty Lion poster, and maybe will remember me this time. It is a nice place, good performance area, and professional PA system that I assume belongs to the café. (If not, I guess I’d hit up Sara again. If I’m playing solo, I don’t need much.) An acoustic duo was playing when I went in. They do charge a gate fee for these (and performers get paid).
Music Friday, Saturday, and Sunday this week—I’d forgotten about the first-Sunday-of-the-month thing at the Forestry Center. This time, I’ll go. Most of the attendees are from the west side of Portland, and I should be looking for opportunities to play. Three weeks till the Museum concert, and the band needs to practice more, too.
Joe
Monday, June 1, 2009
THE "VIRTUAL PC" DIES...
“Alice” the computer’s “virtual PC” program—which I dubbed “Old Alice” since it’s running Windows 98—is no longer working, and I don’t know why. I’d set it up over a year ago to do the conversions from PageMaker to Acrobat. (Almost everybody has the Acrobat Reader program, because it’s free, but nobody except professional graphic designers like me has or uses the several-hundred-dollar PageMaker program.)
I have the Windows 98 version of both programs and have refused to upgrade; I can make them run in Windows XP (a trick I picked up from another programmer), but I was never able to make them talk to each other in Windows XP. The “virtual PC” running Windows 98 was my work-around for the problem—but now it no longer works. (I was kind of surprised it worked in the first place. According to the specs, it wasn’t supposed to.) A Windows XP version of the program hasn’t been made since 2004, and I was lucky to find this one in 2007.
In the meantime, I do have a less professional work-around I can use. For the Thirsty Lion posters, which I have to deliver Tuesday, I printed and scanned the PageMaker poster, converted it to a photograph (*.jpg) file, and dumped that into (uck) MS-Word. I can e-mail that as well as an Acrobat file. So we’re still in business. I just don’t like being told I can’t do what I want to do the way I want to do it.
The “joelist” has been notified of the Thirsty Lion gig, and there’s notices on Facebook and MySpace. Musesk, too; there are some Portlanders who hang out there, and there’s a chance they might come. On Tuesday, when I travel to Portland, I’ll leave some posters with my daughter (boyfriend Eddie said he could post them around the college), plus I’ll give some to Music Millenium and the big music store on Hawthorne. There’s a little Portland coffee house, the Airway Café, that I’ve solicited a gig from (and never got a response from—dang Craigslist); this’ll be an opportunity to remind ‘em who I am, and drop off a CD—and tell them if they really want to hear what I sound like, they could stop by the Thirsty Lion in a week. (Never stop selling.)
I have gotten well-wishes from a lot of people already (the Internet is a fast place at times); to all that may be reading this, thank you. I appreciate your confidence and support. I realize most of you live very far away and wouldn’t (and couldn’t) be coming to a 25-minute audition of me playing solo in a little tavern (and I wouldn’t ask you to). One of these days, we may yet get to meet in person.
John advised he has maybe four tracks salvageable from the Failed Economy show video that could be material for the CD we promised everybody; we’ll try, when we practice this week, to record “No Good Songs About the War” and “For Their Own Ends,” and if they come out good, both will be fodder for the CD, too. (And one of those songs—don’t know which yet—is going to that Dylan contest in England.)
If we’re going to do an album—either of my songs or Failed Economy Show material, or both—I think it’s going to have to be done here, by us, with this band and John’s recording equipment (supplemented by mine to the extent necessary). If there are commercial studios on the North Coast, I don’t know where they are or who’s running them (or how good they are). Besides, there’s no money.
UPCOMING: Besides practice this week, there’ll be music Friday night at City Hall, and Saturday afternoon at the Library. Not one call from any of the jobs I’ve applied for (but the deadlines for some of them haven’t happened yet—I checked). Still applying for more, though. What else can I do?
Joe
I have the Windows 98 version of both programs and have refused to upgrade; I can make them run in Windows XP (a trick I picked up from another programmer), but I was never able to make them talk to each other in Windows XP. The “virtual PC” running Windows 98 was my work-around for the problem—but now it no longer works. (I was kind of surprised it worked in the first place. According to the specs, it wasn’t supposed to.) A Windows XP version of the program hasn’t been made since 2004, and I was lucky to find this one in 2007.
In the meantime, I do have a less professional work-around I can use. For the Thirsty Lion posters, which I have to deliver Tuesday, I printed and scanned the PageMaker poster, converted it to a photograph (*.jpg) file, and dumped that into (uck) MS-Word. I can e-mail that as well as an Acrobat file. So we’re still in business. I just don’t like being told I can’t do what I want to do the way I want to do it.
The “joelist” has been notified of the Thirsty Lion gig, and there’s notices on Facebook and MySpace. Musesk, too; there are some Portlanders who hang out there, and there’s a chance they might come. On Tuesday, when I travel to Portland, I’ll leave some posters with my daughter (boyfriend Eddie said he could post them around the college), plus I’ll give some to Music Millenium and the big music store on Hawthorne. There’s a little Portland coffee house, the Airway Café, that I’ve solicited a gig from (and never got a response from—dang Craigslist); this’ll be an opportunity to remind ‘em who I am, and drop off a CD—and tell them if they really want to hear what I sound like, they could stop by the Thirsty Lion in a week. (Never stop selling.)
I have gotten well-wishes from a lot of people already (the Internet is a fast place at times); to all that may be reading this, thank you. I appreciate your confidence and support. I realize most of you live very far away and wouldn’t (and couldn’t) be coming to a 25-minute audition of me playing solo in a little tavern (and I wouldn’t ask you to). One of these days, we may yet get to meet in person.
John advised he has maybe four tracks salvageable from the Failed Economy show video that could be material for the CD we promised everybody; we’ll try, when we practice this week, to record “No Good Songs About the War” and “For Their Own Ends,” and if they come out good, both will be fodder for the CD, too. (And one of those songs—don’t know which yet—is going to that Dylan contest in England.)
If we’re going to do an album—either of my songs or Failed Economy Show material, or both—I think it’s going to have to be done here, by us, with this band and John’s recording equipment (supplemented by mine to the extent necessary). If there are commercial studios on the North Coast, I don’t know where they are or who’s running them (or how good they are). Besides, there’s no money.
UPCOMING: Besides practice this week, there’ll be music Friday night at City Hall, and Saturday afternoon at the Library. Not one call from any of the jobs I’ve applied for (but the deadlines for some of them haven’t happened yet—I checked). Still applying for more, though. What else can I do?
Joe
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