Sweethearts, Rediscovered

For those of you still following this sporadically-updated blog of mine, I wanted to let you know that the project which has been taking so much of my energy and focus has just launched part 1.

I may have mentioned before that my great-grandaunts were radio pioneers in the 1920s, and that they recorded for Edison.  Not just the Edison Recording Company, but for Thomas Friggin' Edison himself.  Seems the old guy had a soft spot for Hawaiian music, and insisted on engineering a couple of their songs when they were recording at the New York studio.

In any case, the MacDowell Sisters (we're not sure where the Mac came from, since they'd gone from Mac to Mc during the previous generation and were McDowell on all official records) were known by the nickname "Sweethearts of the Air" and at their zenith were the #2 radio variety act in America.  And in 1930, they finally put their memoirs on paper - the history of everything they'd done to get to be the #2 radio variety act in America.  Including: their early lives as the middle sisters of seven children, the sons and daughters of literal pioneers in the backwoods of Ohio and the sandy dirt farms of Kansas; putting themselves through business college to be able to provide for themselves and help the family finances; going into business for themselves as public stenographers; traveling the country by rail and making their living in each new city by setting up shop and providing steno services for local businesses; working as secretaries to Congressmen and war correspondents for the Daily Oklahoman during WWI; traveling to Hawaii and falling in love with native music - then learning to play said native music and help bring it to the mainland at the beginning of its heyday as the dominant popular music in the States.

Yep, these gals were wicked cool.  There was no such thing as too great a setback, too large a challenge.  Though their reign was short, their history is fascinating.  And now it's here.  In their own words.  Only 80+ years in the making.

Here We Go Again

I don't know what meaning the decision to return to the blog on what would have been Samantha's 46th birthday actually holds, if any.  But here we are.

The holidays were busy, projects professional and domestic galore.  And another February 11th has rolled around and left me somewhat confused at my own emotional reaction.  I know that grief isn't linear, and a wave can hit you at seemingly random times when you least expect it.  But on the flip side, I'm very happy in my marriage with Rae and have relatively great relationships with my kids.  I want for very little on an emotional level.  So when this year's 2/11 rolled around and the grief-bus ran me over, I was pretty confused.

Some of it is that I've been missing my dad a lot.  Between Sam's birthday on the 11th, Valentine's Day on the 14th (which is when our house burned down) and Dad's on the 27th, February is not my most favorite month ever.  It just also happens to be the month that Raechelle and I are doing a pretty big 28-day liver cleanse, which means my body is detoxing like a mofo -- caffeine and sugar withdrawal especially -- which further means that I'm feeling not-in-control.  And the entire reason we decided to do this was because of Raechelle's liver issues... so not being in control and having a wife with a liver illness are both kind of enormous triggers.

I guess I probably just answered my own question.  Hooray for blogging.

Sting, play us off...

It's One Louder, Innit?

Many thanks to This is Spinal Tap for all the great references to eleven we can make regarding the new year, including the title of wifey's current blog entry.

It's been a busy holiday season, hence the whopping TWO entries for December.  Let me fill you in on what's been going on:

• Opened and closed It's a Wonderful Life: A Live Radio Play at Kenyon Hall, which I've talked about extensively here.
• Finished and submitted our Airship Daedalus feature for the debut issue of Mash Tun, to be released at ECC this year.
• Christmas was low-key and we did zero traveling, which led to a much nicer, calmer and less stressful holiday within the immediate family unit.  I got some DVDs (including the out-of-print Dead Can Dance Toward the Within live concert, taken from the tour Sam & I got to see in the front row on our anniversary when they played the Moore Theatre in 1993) and some cool books and some very useful gift cards, with which I got this, and this, and this.
• Hosted my family for a post-Christmas Christmas gathering on the 29th.  I baked a ham, roasted potatoes and made my specialty salad (mixed baby greens, red grapes, dried cranberries, walnuts and feta cheese with a raspberry walnut vinaigrette dressing).  My stepdad brought homemade orange cheesecake.  You know you're jealous.
• Got to have drinks with Muriel, who has the distinction of being the catalyst for Raechelle's and my meeting.  Rae tells the story in her post, and of course the whole thing is laid out in our blogs.
• Spent New Year's Eve at dinner with Steve, Steph and Isabella, followed by drinks and snacking and general merriment at Dan & Trish's with some other friends as well.  The kids went to spend the night with Uncle Gavin & Aunt Michelle in Poulsbo, playing boardgames and having fun.
• Seahawks second string QB Charlie Whitehurst (aka Clipboard Jesus), in combination with a fired-up defense and the loudest fanbase in the NFL, led our rather pitiful 7-9 team to a wildcard spot in the playoffs over the shellshocked St. Louis Rams.  Although it's great that we got the division title, here's two things to consider: 1) winning that game reduced our 7th round draft pick for next year to 21st at best; 2) Even if the Hawks can overcome New Orleans this Saturday (which is actually a possibility, given home field advantage, the aforementioned loudest fans in the NFL and a seriously injured New Orleans roster), it's doubtful.that the first team to clinch a division title with a 7-9 record can compete against the eastern division teams with their 12-4 stats and their serious-football-playing.  I hope the division title is worth it in the long run...
• Got turned on to Pomplamoose, a duo from San Francisco.  You've seen them on the Hyundai commercials.  I've been seriously inspired to record again.  Thanks a lot, you talented cuties.
• Took the kids to see Tron: Legacy.  Pros: decent follow-up to the early '80s classic, amazing visuals, good cast, amazing visuals, and amazing visuals.  Cons: major plot holes, jarring CG in the flashback scenes trying to "youthify" Jeff Bridges, major plot holes, cheesy Neo/Matrix finale... and did I mention the plot holes?

So that's pretty much how I spent my holidays.  If I have a resolution for 2011, it's to post a bit more often (and have interesting things to post about!).

All Apologies

I know it's been a few weeks without news, but it's for a good reason, I swear.  I've been nose-down in this music video project for this band, and although I can't go into detail at the moment, I will soon be able to tell all.

Your patience is appreciated.

Rated xx

Those readers who used to follow Rhymes With Drowning know it was primarily my own therapy focusing on widowhood, cancer survival and single-fatherhood (dads represent, yo!).  And they also know that things had taken a corner (big time) when I switched to the aptly-named Life 2.0 (and the Blogspot URL I chose for it).  About once a week, I find myself fretting over the fact that I don't post as often as I used to.  But then I remind myself that things are comparatively great right now, and I don't currently have a lot of deeply personal soul-sharing to be put out into the Intarwebs.  Aside from the occasional family news or professional ramblings from the film and/or publishing arenas, I don't have a lot to report during any given week.

However, there is a whole lot of cool and a whole lot of crazy out there that I can share with my readers.  This blog is nothing if not eclectic.

To wit: a Facebook friend just turned me on to a band from England called The xx.  I'm always up for new music which is artistic and well-composed, and in my heart I will always be a West Coast alternative kid.  The xx pulls every single one of my musical triggers.

• Alternative, check.
• Male and female shared vocals, check.
• Minimalist yet melodic compositions, check.
• Distinctive bass work, check.

The xx remind me of the best bits of The Velvet Underground, Scanners and early New Order.  The music is hook-y without sacrificing artistic merit for the sake of a hit single.  It helps that they have good videos too.  Check this out:



I absolutely love the pacing of the edit as it repeats with subtle variations every 8 bars. And the payoff at the end is brilliant.

The xx is just one of a slew of recent bands taking a cue from 1980s alternative, which makes me very, very happy.

Busy as Bees Doing Sweatshop Labor

A strange metaphor, perhaps, but it seriously seems like someone found the Busy Dial and cranked us up to eleven.  What Busy Dial, you ask?  I'll tell you.

Firstly, our tenant moved out of the cottage, allowing us to empty both of our storage units and begin Project Studio.  Figurative fires were lit under our figurative asses by the imminent arrival of summer vacation for the kids, which means that if I didn't have an actual office to go to work in, I would more than likely get zero work done while the kids were home all day.  And more imminently was the visit by my old high school buddy (and co-founder of our experimental college music project, Mozart Air Raid) Gordon and his wife Heather.  The great thing about the studio is that it can do double duty as guest quarters, as it has a very comfy (custom-made) pull-out sofa, and is self-contained with a kitchen and bathroom.  It ain't big, but it's private and comfy.

 

The reason for Gordon & Heather's visit to Seattle (from Portland) was a surprise weekend getaway for Heather's birthday (turns out she was born a day after Raechelle, same year even), spurred by the appearance of Florence + The Machine at the Showbox...

[insert all sorts of wacky antics - or "wactics" having to do with digging out last-minute tax records for the accountant]

[also insert Raechelle's birthday, in which she turned 35 and I assured her she was still gorgeous, because I'm good like that]

Now, about F+TM.  Raechelle has already put her thoughts to pixels, and it pretty much coincides with my experience.  The Showbox was the wrong venue for a theatrical show like Florence, mostly because the stage is in front of an open dance floor, so when there's a large crowd (like for Florence, for example), nobody under 6-feet tall can see anything.  In the future, Florence would do well to seek alternate venues like the Moore and Paramount theaters.

Just before the opening act for Florence took the stage, I checked my voicemail to find a message from the accountant.  Turns out Raechelle's first-time home buyer status last year + my second-time buyer status + Raechelle's new car + filing married = sweet!

We had a swell weekend, mixing casual hanging out with Gordon & Heather with being productive, including the Barmoire project and some general household organization and tidying.  We also had a fun Guitar Night: Special Birthday Edition.  Kayleigh brought her friend Lydia, and many strings were strummed.  Kayleigh has outgrown her small blue guitar, so she is now borrowing the Ovation acoustic Samantha gave me for my 22nd birthday.

Finishing off the weekend, Raechelle and I went to see The Miss Firecracker Contest, Twelfth Night's Spring production, at Youngstown.  It was directed by my stage manager on Deathtrap, and was really well done.

So now we're back to the work week, and I'm juggling several flaming batons at once:

• Writing the proposal for an anti-spam PSA with Dan
• Putting the finishing touches on the Game Master section of Arrowflight
• Making tweaks to the cover of the RADZ hardcover edition
• Working on the OA series pitch materials with Dan
• Storyboarding a music video for Kirby Krackle, which I am directing
• Getting Tyler re-registered for school
• Getting bids from contractors about the Studio (electrical, foundations, etc)
• Awaiting the arrival of my new workstation
• Awaiting the arrival of the high-gain wi-fi adapter for said workstation
• Trying to get the new website up and running

That's the Busy Dial on 11.

Aaaaand scene...

Ran the Gauntlet

Seems like the last few days were chock full of people dying and reminders of people dying. Despite it all, I had a pretty phenomenal weekend.

Friday was pizza movie night with MST3K: Hercules Against The Moon Men. And since Tyler was working Norwescon hospitality with his aunt and uncle, it was just Kayleigh hangin' with the grown-ups. Then Kayleigh retreated to a project and TFMD & I put in Tropic Thunder and proceeded to laugh our asses off.

Saturday we actually slept in past 8AM, which, for anyone with kids, is a real achievement. Tyler had arrived home in the wee hours of the morning, and was cruising on about four hours of sleep. By the time Gavin arrived to take the kids to the convention, Raechelle and I were chomping at the bit to get started on our day. We'd kept the calendar clear of social obligations, thus were able to cram a lot into one afternoon. International District, Capitol Hill, Southcenter, Westwood. Many errands run, and much productivity accomplished.

Then TFMD got a bee in her bonnet and decided to cook us a yummy dinner for two. Coconut curry Basmati rice with raisins, and stir-fried greens (red chard and cilantro). And wine.

I headed down to SeaTac to pick up Kayleigh (Tyler would come home around 2AM), and we retired for the night. Only made it through the opening monologue of SNL, and didn't care enough about Zac Efron to try to stay awake.

Sunday morning, Tyler wasn't feeling well, so he stayed home from Norwescon, while Kayleigh went for her second day. There was only a slight twinge of grief, being the fourth anniversary of Sam's death. We headed over to brunch at Etta's with Doug & Ann, and had a great time. We followed it up with coffee, and then Raechelle and I took off to engage in more productivity. A quick trip up to Champion for birthday party supplies (thwarted, due to them being closed on Easter), followed by office organization and [gasp!] recording, which was the original thing that brought us together. We now have seven rough drafts, including three of Raechelle's originals, two of mine (which she's writing lyrics for) and two covers.

THEN, we shot some photos of Raechelle in her cool rocker wig which she's wearing for the rock star birthday party I'm throwing for her this coming Saturday, and I made it into a fake concert shirt and rocker pins for the party. Doug and Ann are going to be tour managers and work the door, and we have JD bringing Rock Band for our big screen. We also have some cool DJ lights and will accent the interior lighting with black light bulbs.

Anyway, it looks like the shirt design came out nicely. The fake band name is CHELLE SHOCK, and the back says WORLD TOUR 2009, with a list of cities around the world. Every city is stamped CANCELLED, except for Nestorville (WV) and Seattle.
When I step back and think about all the crazy theme preparations, it seems a bit overboard. But this is the guy who used to host custom-written mystery theme parties known as the Black Pelican Dead Man's Party & Hallowe'en Ball. Five of those suckers - from a 1930s murder mystery on five acres in Sacramento, to a 1960s secret agent fest, to a 1950s B-movie "who's got the brain?" drunken piss-up, to a pre-20th Century literary salon murder, to a pirate treasure hunt. And I haven't really been able to flex those muscles much in recent years, except maybe when helping Darlene with Chinese New Year party prep (on the rare occasions when I do help).

That, and I kinda love my woman a bit.

We grazed on nachos and I played Godspell (my annual Easter movie), but Raechelle had no frame of reference for a) Judeo-Christian history, b) musical theater, or c) 1970s folk-rock. So it was kind of lost on her. From now on, I'm thinking Monty Python's Life of Brian for Easter viewing. Because I'm sure not going to ask TFMD to sit through The Last Temptation of Christ, no matter how good I think the film is. Because I care.

Wedding prep continues. My neighbor John is selling his house, which has been partially remodeled and sitting vacant since his own marriage to a woman with a home closer to his job. He made a rare appearance yesterday, and got all misty when I told him Raechelle and I were getting married. He brought over hand-picked tulips from his yard and thanked Raechelle for being in my life. It was sweet.

Kayleigh came home from Norwescon with a lot of stories and some swag. We retired to the bedroom for Sunday animation, and conked out pretty hard. For a weekend with nothing on the calendar, it turned out to be pretty intensely packed with lots of good stuff, and a big sense of accomplishment.

Tina

(photo by pouryourheartintoit on flickr)

Last night was another first. I took Rae and the kids to see Tina Dico at the Triple Door (possibly my favorite venue in Seattle now). This was the first concert we'd been to together as a family. We had an entire booth to ourselves, and the kids were on their best behavior. It was a bit stressful for the adults, not knowing which way the winds might blow, but they didn't disappoint. And despite the fact that the Wild Ginger menu is nothing but frou-frou Thai-esque food, they each found something they liked.

Now, while Kayleigh and I are both avid Tina Dico (or "Dickow" as she is known in Denmark) fans, I have to say that Tyler was one helluva trouper. Despite a leisurely dinner followed by a 90-minute set of music he was only passingly familiar with, he did magnificently well, keeping calm and leaning against me to listen.

It should be noted that Ms. Dico is touring to support a new album. A three-disc, twenty-song magnum opus called A Beginning, A Detour, An Open Ending. No jewel case, just paper sleeves and booklet in a cardboard jacket. The packaging looks like an old-skool premium LP set, shrunk down to CD scale. Beautiful photography, copious lyrics and liner notes. An asset to the collection for sure.

(photo by pouryourheartintoit on flickr)

Although known for solo acoustic performances, Dico is currently touring with longtime collaborator Dennis Ahlgren and Icelandic pixie Helgi Jonsson (who, TFMD and I agreed, we'd love to take home and set on a pillow on the front buffet so that he could tell us Icelandic stories and play the trombone). Helgi opened the show with his own original, complex and eclectic set, which included breaking a guitar string, and stopping in mid-song to explain how difficult the next bit was (and praising his dad's guitar work on his album). Eccentric isn't even close. To draw a parallel with another Icelandic artist, "Björk-esque" would suffice.

Helgi's set was short but fun and put the crowd in a great mood for Tina, who played a diverse set of new material and a fair amount of older stuff, with the notable absence of any of her Zero7 material (which she used to include in her live performances).

It was enough for Kayleigh to feel familiar with and sing along to, and Raechelle even recognized a song or two (we're getting her indoctrinated by osmosis). The sound was great as usual, and the lighting was minimal and effective for such an intimate venue. The only detracting element was the group of women in the next booth who insisted on talking throughout the first half of the set, even raising their voices when Tina played a louder volume - oblivious to the killer stares of folks around them. But my honey is tough and scary when she needs to be, and she went and told them to be quiet - go get 'em, honey!

One of the new songs hit me particularly hard, and at times I found myself completely absorbed in and transported by the music and the performance - and those moments are what it's all about.

You were left with nothing as a child
Now that's a lot to carry
You've been empty-handed all your life
A heavy weight to carry

Things could be different
But it wouldn't be the same
You wouldn't be the man I love without this weight

'Cause all these years feeling small and misplaced
The only lonely man on Noah's ark
All these years dealing with radioactive waste
Has made you glow in the dark
Don't you know you glow in the dark
Don't you know
You glow

You've been digging graves since we first met
You've got a lot to bury
From the empty closets in your head
A heavy weight to carry

Things could be better
But it wouldn't feel this good
I wouldn't change a thing about you if I could

...and so on. What I remember about live performances is always the emotional impact, and this one got me good. I was extremely glad to be able to share it with my family.

And Bob Schneider is coming back in May. I think I just had what TFMD calls a microgasm.

Why Valentine's Day Didn't Suck This Year

Let me count the ways...

Saturday arrived, the third anniversary of the fire which had claimed the house. TFMD and I took the kids to see Coraline at the AMC Southcenter. And here's the irony: I have traditionally gone to Southcenter over theaters downtown because of the easy and plentiful parking. But since the rennovation of the mall, it's like being stuck in a traffic jam downtown. So if I venture to Southcenter for a movie theater experience in the future, it'll be at the Parkway Plaza, which has better sets and easier parking.

After the movie, we had an early dinner at Applebee's, then headed home where Rae and I promptly passed out for a couple hours before walking to Westwood for a few necessities. It was a slow-moving Saturday evening, with Must Love Dogs and the first act of Down With Love before we simply had to retire for the night.

Sunday was a leisurely, with both TFMD and me tackling various organizational projects: she, her files, and me, the DVD Wall. I hate organizing DVDs, because I don't like to alphabetize, yet I can't always find a neat category for a specific title. But I got it more or less sorted in the end.

Sunday evening, both kids went off to their respective overnights and TFMD took me out for a (post) Valentine's Day evening. We took a cab to the Triple Door, where we had an amazing dinner and saw Lisa Hannigan and her band, who had completely blown us away when she opened for Jason Mraz. This time, she was the headliner, with her guitarist, Gavin Glass, opening with a short set of his own. It was a busy night for Gavin.



Picked up a copy of Gavin's CD, had it signed (as he was hanging out back by the soundboard) and took a cab home. And of course, what would two adults-in-love do with an empty house and an early evening? We did what anyone would do: we opened some port and played music for about three hours. My fingers are killing me today, but it was totally worth it, because we got another original song out of the jam session. Her words, my music. The collaboration that brought us together in the first place. Seeing a good live band can truly be inspirational sometimes.

After all the Thai food and alcohol last night, I awoke a bit precarious this morning. But I took my supplements and nursed a glass of soda water, and now I'm feeling up to taking TFMD out to breakfast at Easy Street. If and when she feels up to getting out of bed.

It's been a good weekend. And it has created a new concept for me: Valentine's Day doesn't have to be traumatic or ignored outright; it can actually be fun.

Tragically Delicious

Lots to cover today. Allow me to get right to it.

Kirby Krackle. Kyle Stevens and Jim Demonakos just returned from a promotional visit to NYC, where the album was very well received. And Kyle now has the footage I shot of his CD release set up on YouTube. Check it out.



Next up, Sam's birthday was yesterday. It also happened to be a pretty busy one, work-wise. I took a break in the mid-morning and opened up a music file. It's the recording of Fire Inside on which Sam's vocals mysteriously appeared when I was archiving our old music back in 2005, only without the acoustic guitar track and some different drums added. This way, I can play along live, and have a little birthday duet. And you know, it felt pretty good. My mood really improved for about half an hour.

Until I found out that an old and dear friend has cancer.
The same kind Samantha had.
He's having surgery on the 17th. They're gonna crack him and do a lobectomy on his lung, just like they did with my dad and Raechelle's mom.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

So that kind of licked me back into that fog. The blank gaze of the shellshocked soldier when confronted with a trigger that makes him remember his own past traumas. And as badly as you feel for yourself, it's totally not about you. It's about your friend/partner/spouse/child/parent with the actual disease, facing the actual surgery. So you just have to be stoic and march on.

With that in mind, after errand-running and kids' counseling and all that goes with that, Raechelle and the kids and I went to dinner at Pegasus. The kids were full of energy and conversation, and neither of us got a word in edgewise. Then we came home and sang Happy Birthday to Sam. The kids blew out the wax 42 on the cake I'd purchased from Safeway while Kayleigh was in her counseling appointment.

Which brings me to the title portion of the story.

I've blogged previously about hairdressers, baristas and other service professionals who insist on striking up conversation with the widowed, having no clue what they're gonna find when you do respond. On this occasion, it was a Starbucks barista at the kiosk/cart/thingy inside Safeway. I had a giant iced tea on order, and I had the chocloate cake that read Happy Birthday Sam on it, and a wax 2 candle, since we already had a 4 at home. Easy enough to mistake that for a young boy's cake, for sure. But once again, it was a case of prying too far. And it went something like this:

BARISTA
Awww, someone's having a birthday.

TD
Sort of.

BARISTA
Are they two?

TD
No. We already have the 4.

BARISTA
24?

TD
No.

BARISTA
(chuckles)
I was just going for the more desirable option.

TD
Mmm.

BARISTA
So who is 42?

TD
My late wife. She would have been 42 today. My kids celebrate it.

Sound of a record-player needle scratching, followed by crickets.

BARISTA
(shocked pause & look of sympathy)
Awww. I'm so sorry to hear that. You have a nice day.

TD
Mmm.

I would have liked to say something totally mean and snarky as all hell (which I will not repeat here), and that's why I'm glad my internal monologue filter is firmly in place when I'm out in public. I was also going to spout some battlefield wisdom about how grief is contagious and sometimes becomes more about the bystander's experience than the person actually affected, but you've heard all that from me before.

So let me just finish this up.

Happy birthday, Sam.
Kick it in the ass, Dave.
Good work, Kyle.

Peace out.

Another Friday

Some bloggers have a set shtick they do every Friday, such as Stephen Rader's Fratboy Friday (fair warning, Stephen's blog is often NSFW) and Lydia Bruno's new Follow Me Friday.

However, when you've had the last couple weeks I've had, it's often all you can do to crawl wheezing and gasping through Friday's finish line.

Awoke to a migraine once again, the first in a couple months. I was having an absolutely scrummy dream about ponies (reference this clip from Blackadder, about 4:05), when my eyes threatened to jump from my skull and run screaming down the street. Totally no fair. I call shenanigans.

Add to that not one, but TWO kids home sick from school (Tyler has actually had a relatively excellent week in that regard), and an ever-growing to-do list, and you have one surly and tired TBFE.

Yesterday was productive. Had a production meeting with Dan & Trish about the series of four Duo shorts being planned. The first one gets shot at the end of the month. I'm itchy to get behind the camera again. I love the process.

It also just occurred to me that I didn't show my loyal readers the new gigging instrument I got for work with Buzzkill Bride.

It's the beast as pictured: an Ovation CC44. Epaulet sound hole design, black finish, brass hardware, 3-band EQ and onboard tuner. Sounds lovely. Raechelle doesn't like to play Ovations because of the round back, but she had to admit it sounds great. I've always loved Ovations. Jeff Lynne's signature guitar sound for ELO and the Traveling Wilburys was an Ovation 12-string with the low-end stripped out. Very lush and crisp all at once. Don't let the 1970s craziness distract you from some really well-crafted songs. Not everyone has to like ELO, but you gotta give 'em their place in the scheme of things.

And if ELO ain't your thang, check out what Glen Campbell can do with an Ovation. Go Glen.

Although the temps have risen, it's back to typical rainy, 40-something Seattle winter. And maybe that's got me a bit down. Plus all the dying. This weekend began to clutter up with all sorts of items on the calendar, but fortunately we realized early on that we'd be hating life afterward, and reduced our social obligations quite a bit. As it stands, things are manageable.

Here's to a safe trip to Cali for my mom & stepdad, and a happy weekend for everyone out there.

Bleeding Fingers

© 2009 Ron Dugdale Photography

Well not quite, but close. Practiced a lot yesterday. Getting my chops back (yet again).

You see, at the engagement party, TFMD (while imbibing impressive quantities of wine) promised Kyle that we'd have a 20-minute live set together by March. And while I have a good 45 minutes of And Tears Fell material I can do solo, and Rae has a few of her own faves she can do solo, that misses the whole point of Buzzkill Bride. It's all about the collaboration. It's why she answered the Craigslist ad in the first place, after all.

So I practiced for a couple hours yesterday, and after dinner, we both practiced for another hour and a half. The set is shaking out. We have some loyal covers, some originals, and some coffee-house arrangements of songs you'd never expect. And we're getting close to comfortable with most of the material. I like the vibe. It's collaborative without being competitive, and it's different than my usual thing.

But it's also weird having Rae sing any of the And Tears Fell material. Weirder than it was having Muriel sing on the CD. I'm sure it's similar to Rae feels about my contributions to some of her older and more personal material.

I'm looking forward to recording again, and having Kyle producing. Other producers always bring out the better aspects of my music, and Kyle's a guy I've been wanting to work with since we met at Emerald City last year.

Cancer Day

Yesterday was surreal. On several levels. I blame Mercury retrograde... or something.

Picked up TFMD at work just after Noon, and we headed up to the memorial service for her ex's father. Being included felt a bit weird, but ultimately I'm really glad I was. The family is really sweet and welcoming -- good people. And they're happy for Rae. And that makes me happy.

Then we came home and I found an email from my old pal Josh. Although we've been out of touch for over a decade, he's the friend I've known longest. We met in Steve Miles' 2nd/3rd grade class at Rio Del Mar Elementary School in 1976, and became best buds. His dad, a professional cartoonist and illustrator, encouraged my own artistic aspirations. I invented the Zingo character on his drafting table, and named both Z's harbor seal and the martial arts hero Stilt after him in homage.

Anyway, in catching up, I found out his mom had died of skin cancer in 2007, and his dad is in remission from prostate cancer. Let me emphasize that when I knew them, they were the healthiest, most stress-free people I'd come across. Vegetarians and into meditation. It felt like I'd lost another family member.

But then I realized this is probably what folks who knew Sam but had been out of touch for years felt when they heard about her death. Beth can speak to that more so than most.

Then I had a couple actors over for a reading/audition/screentest. Devielle Johnson has already been cast as Steve in Duo, but he showed up to read opposite Jeff Benoit as Ian in the first of four shorts set in the Duo continuity. Working with good actors puts me in a very emotionally vulnerable state anyway (as it should), so by the time the guys left, I was done.

It was just an emotionally exhausting day. Can I get a witness?? Amen.

Additionally, Monday yielded a psych diagnosis for Tyler, so that will help us plan, pending the sleep study next month. Still getting him worked around to a daytime schedule. TFMD and I are practicing our live set tonight. Gonna make some noise for a couple hours. With instruments. Get your mind out of the gutter.

Mo' Pimpin'

Christopher Clement (aka Analog Kid), whose original music graces Ordinary Angels, has composed a new ambient electronic piece called "Ambient Light".

The track, and the accompanying video (also by Chris) is here.

Come On Get Higher

Just want to share a really good song from fellow Bay Area guy, singer-songwriter Matt Nathanson. Enjoy.

Music Makes It All Better

If you're my Facebook friend, you would have seen my status yesterday as Todd is facing Monday, without his spear and magic helmet. And thanks to my old theater buddy, actor & teacher Jon Burnett, for posting the entire libretto to What's Opera Doc? in comment form. You rock.

So yeah. Starting with getting the kids out the door, I felt very much like a Gaul going into battle skyclad. Yes, very confident in my abilities, thankyouverymuch (maybe a bit overconfident, even), but still, very... under-dressed.

Best quote of the morning:

TYLER
It's not messy. It's just disorganized.

Anyway, things improved when I picked up TBGE at work and we joined my mom, stepdad, brother, SIL, and some friends of my folks for lunch at Siam on Lake Union. Loves me some Phad Thai. It was good to see my parental type units and I got a bag of homemade pumpkin muffins and English toffee out of the deal (TD for the win!). Then I got back home and was immediately hit with more drama of the variety which had consumed my morning. Urg.

So I was in almost full-on "grrr" mode when Raechelle got home from work. I had just returned from retrieving Tyler from my brother's home, and was anxious to get online with Hans & Ron and virtually kick some virtual ass in City of Heroes (something which hasn't happened in quite some time - I saw some of my toons haven't been played in almost a year).

I got online long enough to complete a couple missions while Raechelle changed clothes, unwound and got caught up on email and home stuff, then I set about heating up some leftovers for dinner. I was still semi-"grrr", so Raechelle kicked me out of the kitchen so she could supervise Kayleigh's cookie project, and I retreated to the office.

I don't know why I retreat to the office. It's where I spend most of my day anyway, so it's not really a retreat. But it has my music library and the Interwebs handy, so I guess it's more of a multi-purpose zone.

Soon enough, Raechelle came in, sat down at her desk, picked up her guitar and started playing. I joined in on mine. Next thing I knew, we were practicing. We assembled lyrics and began to piece together the basics of a set. The entire premise for meeting in the first place - playing music together - is finally happening.

And that makes me happy.

A Thanksgiving Perspective

The following is mostly an internal musing typed out for the sharing - it is not intended to be a sociopolitical diatribe, so I hope it doesn't come off that way...

With a maternal family line that includes Oklahoma Cherokee, I often think about what Thanksgiving means to the indigenous people of North America. It must represent a moment of "oh crap, why did we let them stay??" Although historians will spin yarns of political alliances and arms-for-food treaties, one thing is for sure: Europeans only got a foothold on the continent because the natives allowed us to be here. And the descendants of those first Europeans have been breaking treaties and generally being asses to the folks who had been the custodians of the place for thousands of years.

I'm not an apologist about it. I'm pretty pragmatic about the whole thing. The European part of me is here and I'm not moving. But I have always believed that Thanksgiving should include more than just a passing mention of indigenous goodwill that was later repaid in smallpox-laced blankets, wholesale slaughter and forced relocation of entire populations. My great grandmother's people (perhaps only a generation or two prior to hers) were moved at gunpoint from their homes and villages in the Carolinas to the vastly different landscape of the Oklahoma Territory. And while I have no desire to darken this family holiday with tales of brutality, I would just urge everyone to spare a thought for those who were here before us, and who let our ancestors stay - regardless of the reason (strategic alliance, trade, guns, or just goodwill).

They came to our land
We did not understand
What they were here for

But soon we would see
To forget to be free
And to bow before a master

They came to our land
And what did we get?
A stab in the back
I will never forget
All my brothers who went
To die down at Bad Axe

Once we were so proud
A people of steel
Who knew what to live for

But it's hard to have pride
When you aren't even free
In a land that's your own

We gave up our land
And what did we get?
A stab in the back
I will never forget
All my brothers who went
To die down at Bear Paw

And the Earth here was ours
And we treated her well
Until the settlers arrived
To steal the precious land

They took us for slaves
But we would not give in
We would fight for what's ours
But we could never win
No, we could never win

Some say things have changed
That time heals all wounds
But this scar is just too deep to heal

I'm an American too
And I don't ask for much
I just want to be free

They gave up their land
And what did they get?
A stab in the back
I will never forget

All my brothers who went

To die on the Trail of Tears

- The Rise, Trail of Tears (1988)

Angelic Inspiration

I admit it. I'm just a bit of a whore for mood music when I'm writing. It puts me in the right frame of mind, immerses me in the vibe I'm trying to convey in my descriptions of the visual at hand.

For instance, I just finished writing a scene where three rough-and-tumble Angel foot soldiers are responding to Fallen mischief, engage in an urban gun battle and unfortunately fall victim to a trap.

So I use a playlist very strategically designed to keep me in a dystopian urban action mood.

Like Cold. And Linkin Park. And Killing Joke.

And for a healthy dose of apocalyptic imagery along with the dark urban alternative music, a little Gary Numan.

Boxes and Football and Concerts, Oh My!

We tried to watch the Hawks game on Sunday. Really. It's just too depressing right now. Finally rolled out of bed and made biscuits for breakfast.

Unpacked and organized. Had a family meeting. You know, one of those "changes are afoot" family meetings that happen when Something Big (TM) is taking place. It was good; the kids contributed and we had a generally positive discussion. Wandered down to Bed Bath & Beyond and Target for some household stuff.

Came home and made some dinner. And all four of us sat down to eat together. Then Gavin & Michelle came out to watch the kids while we went to the Jason Mraz concert. I'd bought tickets months ago when Rae & I were first dating, and we'd almost forgotten that it was this weekend. As exhausted as we were, we went. And I'm glad we did.

I'm not a huge Jason Mraz fan. I like him, I like his music, I think he's a fantastic showman. But he has a caliber of fan that is much more like I was when I was 14 and-- oh. I think I just made my point AND realized I'm old, all at once.

Both Rae and I were blown away by opener Lisa Hannigan. She used to sing with Damien Rice, and apparently fronts her own act out of Dublin. Unbelievably talented band. Lisa herself is a great lyricist and her soft and smoky vocals are like finding an old, worn copy of A. A. Milne's Winnie the Pooh in the family attic.



There was a bit of Trespassers William in there, a bit of Two Loons for Tea, a bit of Regina Spektor, a bit of Mazzy Star and maybe even some Cowboy Junkies. And yet all unique. All original. And all quite lovely.

Jason came on and rocked/folked/funked and adult contemporaried up the joint. The dude can play, and he can sing. And his horn section is, as the cool kids say, da bomb. We ducked out before the first encore to grab a copy of the Lisa Hannigan CD and a couple tour shirts for the kids. Home by 10:30 and into bed.

It's usually Monday morning when I find myself back in "single" mode, since ordinarily TBGE would be heading back to her old apartment after work. So I found myself doing a mental double-take when she asked what I was making for dinner tonight. I'm sure that won't be the last time I'll have those "hey, wait a minute" moments. But it sure does feel good when I go from "single" mode to "oh yeah - she lives here now."

Much on the plate today. More news as it happens.

Happy Halloween