Thoughts on the Good Life...

It has been a while since I have come to this place to share my thoughts and adventures.  Summer was busy which in my world means the music has been overwhelmingly amazing.  The sun sets and rises with hope hanging on a dream.  The dream is an illusion of sorts.  You forget how to be "normal" and anything that used to matter to you simply doesn't matter so much any more.  You miss birthdays, weddings, getting together with friends.  As four in the morning creeps up you start to believe you have lost all sense of reality and the dream dissipates into the obsession. You attempt to make sense of the evening's events, and the music before it becomes a faded memory.  You close your eyes and feel it within your soul.  Man, it was a great night.    

Your head hangs heavy and you carry your slightly wasted self into the warm confines of "home."  The emptiness of that space, reminds you that no one really does get it.  It is the reminder of the things that you have given up to continue this life.  It's not the being alone part that gets you, as you learn to become self entertaining and sufficient.  You truly enjoy the quiet reflection that comes from the silence.  The love you get from your family and friends fills the void that everyone has within themselves for love.  It's more a longing for someone that is strong enough to stand beside you, instead of in the shadows.  To support what you are trying to do, someone that will say, "I've missed you."  People too often put you on a pedestal, that you will no doubt get drunk and fall off of at some point.  That they all just stay for a little while.

You again realize that the word "home" becomes as trivial as "normal." You live out of a car, hotel, and backpack; one bag for the laptop, an external hard drive for space, and your slightly overused camera that allows you to keep going on.  No one will ever believe any of this.  You realize that "normal" was the dream you once had too.  Is home where I can cook a great meal and watch movies I desperately want to see?  You want to enjoy being in one space, and have nothing to do.  Nothing in all of it seems to make sense.  Where am I going today, and Why?  You fight within yourself to balance everything that you wanted and begin to wonder if the very thing that defines who you are is the exact thing that robs you of that normalcy everyone takes for granted.      

When you make what you love the most the whole of your being, it changes your perspective on reality quite a bit.  It becomes a slight distorted and skewed.  If you have spent any amount of time on the road, you know that when you do return, nothing is at it seems.  You are changed by what you have seen each time, in small and slight ways.  You begin to feel strange and uncomfortable at the thought of a "dinner with the family."  What do you say again?  What if they ask me about what I do?

You start to be an inverted version of yourself to downplay the extreme situations of what you have seen and done.  You want to be like everyone else, where the most exciting thing of the week is who killed who on Law and Order.  Though you just sat at a dinner table with Bob Weir and talked at great length about the genius of Jerry Garcia.  Make no mistake,  I love this life for those opportunities and moments but, realize that general perception of people makes it hard to be simple.  I was hungry and we talked.  It is all the ultimate journey of self discovery, I guess.  For me, the journey begins again.  
     

I will at least add on some theme music.  

In an NPR interview Ryan Montbleau describes his new song Stay and I can't help but relate.  If you missed it, the recording and interview were very well done.

http://www.npr.org/2010/11/24/131575400/ryan-montbleau-band-night-after-night

 

Sometimes....

Today: 
  Sometimes we do things that just make no sense.  We think things that are irrational, and we follow dreams that just never seem to become reality.  There is a small part of me that often chases dreams but, I have been fortunate enough to make some of them my reality.  I guess that is why I am feeling a little stressed today.  There are times where your dreams are exploited and taken away.  Then you need to decide if you should try to remain peaceful, or just let them go for the good of what you are trying to create.  Another time, I would have let it go.  This time is different because, there is hope.  When you have hope nothing is really lost, or is it?  Now the only question that remains is, "Do you really understand what was lost?"
  Spring is here with a slight chill to the air tonight.  The past two days crept slowly by with the sun shining down, a raging fire, and some hooping with the Phamily.  The music has been great lately, with no signs of slowing down.  I am feeling a twinge of regret for not making it to Soulive last night, or Boombox tonight at the Westcott Theater but, sometimes you need to just appreciate just breathing the air.  Surrounding yourself with good friends, and a laugh shared among equals can be the right medicine for a clouded perspective.  I prefer spinning vinyl these days instead of my mind.  The world seems to make so much more sense to me today.  For that I am eternally grateful.

03-26-10
Jatoba The Perfect Wife Manchester, VT :
   Going back to Vermont this past weekend to see the Jatoba boys was again something I desperately needed to do.  There is a feeling of coming home every time I reach the top of Hogback heading into Brattleboro.  This is sacred time, time to share memories and stories with the road family.  This time it was my turn to travel north again, and I didn't mind much.  I miss the people there and love how every time I visit someone tells me I should stay.  The show on Friday was good.  Not the best, but still a time to re-connect on projects and plan for the future.  There was weak drinks, and much dancing.   The second set caught my attention a little more now, thinking to myself how far the boys have come.  I could not help but feel a sense of pride.  They have earned their place in the scene on their own talents.  I am just there to help them on their journey.  I am glad that I have been able to watch them grow.

03-27-10

Hot Day at the Zoo and Moe./ Snoe. Down 2010 Killington, VT:
 The Snoe. Down scene was epic.  The sun shining down on the mountain and people wiping out on the half-pipe .  Hot Day at the Zoo played a raging set comparative to their latest effort Zoograss.  I have never been a huge fan of Moe. personally but, they can be interesting.  I do like their music.  I do appreciate their impeccable sense of timing and sometimes flawless jams.  The afternoon set on Bear Mountain was tight, fearless, and the perfect thing to fit the adventure.  This particular weekend perhaps it was more fun then we thought it would be.

  There is something to be said for a condo full of crazy people after a beautiful day of music that has magical powers.  It could have been the beards (who claimed to be wizards.) I guess you never can tell.  We quickly changed our plans to attend Keller Williams in Burlington that night and we opted to stay in the mountains and get down.  There is something that can be said for our after hours shenanigans.  I am not sure what it is about it.  It could be the faded look everyone gets in the wee hours of morning, or the seemingly endless hours of laughter that comes every time.  This is where people become a little closer.  Where you meet strangers and leave as friends.  I think this is truly where you can learn to let it all go and just exist, if you embrace it.  I am not sure what else I can say about it.  Jon was right, "It was all fun and games until Jed broke the coffee pot."  

What Would Hunter Say....

Disclaimer: Experiment Only...Meant for entertainment, some people will take this seriously. Guess they can refer to our motto.  Cheers! 

What would Hunter S. Thompson possibly say in a moment like this? I thought on it for a brief second and started to write (Not that I would even come close to what his thoughts might be. I could probably not even come close to his brilliance. Hopefully feeble attempts are harmless.) Here is what came out of that trip....

King of the Mountain
We never stopped, we have been at this for months with no end in sight. What else is there to do but go on some strange, alcohol fueled bender in the mountains for a week. Not enough foresight in this plan, and the only way out at this point is to take the bus. Fuck that. Ah, good alcohol, or was it the Little Feat, whiskey and bad cocaine? The sun coming up slowly by day kissing the Spanish Moon goodnight. Surely there is time to catch up on all of these things. Christ, there are ten thousand copies of this thing out there, and we are just getting started.
There was a thaw today coming out of the mountains, slowly through the Olympic Village, and past the High Peaks. I love this part of the country, and haven't felt home like this in quite some time. It is bittersweet, really. The promise of greater things hanging in the balance has just passed my weary head. It has me shaken but, not ignorant to these things.
Coming down from a high like this is hard to ignore. It's like a roller coaster in reverse. Good thing I put the band out days ago, they would never be able to navigate this climate, and besides, why should they get to have all of the fun. It is really a question of bad economics and which way the wind might blow.

To Do List:
-Book Martin Sexton for a small intimate club show (Please and Thank You)
-Confirm the already booked dates
-Lights and bring the raucous for the show on Saturday Night
-Phish, Hampton...get ready
-Call the Dickey crew to let them know we will be swinging by for the show
-Distribute
-Sleep....continue the hustle.

Done. Set fire to the opposition? They don't thoroughly understand what is really going on here any way, setting the pace, and making it happen. What do they really know about all of that which has changed in the past few years. A waste of time that I cannot afford for this very reason. How do you make them see? There needs to be a desire to open their eyes and really take it in. It seems a futile attempt to make them understand that this is bigger than any one person or entity, and to survive the only realistic thing to do would be to collaborate. Everything has changed, for no real reason that I can fathom. No need to retreat, it is alright to move forward, with great success. Besides, we are all friends here, right?
Thanks, Devito. Mahalo. It was a good run, and the insight and positive energy from it will carry me through the next few months. It was in these necessary evils that I have found peace within myself, and the strength to know that things are moving on, ever changing still. The chances are well worth the risk, and all of this work has amounted to much more than I could have ever thought possible.
We are never going to make it out alive without a solid plan, and strong drink. There has to be an easy grand to throw down on something serious or we are all fucked. Phone call, secure that, and our fate as it looms in the balance. Done, and two if I need it. So, I clearly needed to put them out after the ice palace and the choclolates wore off, good thinking on my part. Time to plan for two weeks across the country, better make it 30 days or else we will never make it through. Work it, develop, grow the family, and then hit it all again. It is a healthy chain of events, really. It is also the only way to approach this righteously.
OK, here we go. No more screwing around. This is serious, and we all know to what degree. Fasten your seat belts, this is going to be a rough ride this time.


The Bus
The damn bus. The putrid stench of the Adirondack drug runners who had way too many at DeVito's bar last night, sets me a slight off balance. You would think a shower for the good of mankind was in order before coming down from the mountain. They come with the pure stuff, to spread the love throughout the central most parts of New York. The pimps, thieves, hustlers, and slightly better than average cocaine. Who really knows the difference any more the stuff that has been stepped on a time or two with pharmaceuticals and the buzz is similar to what you could have with it pure, for a quarter of the price. Which is all to say that it is still a good buzz and a descent high.
These are the true Adirondack Pirates, screw the rum runners, they had their day. Damn the rum all together because it will not get you off anymore. What we need is scotch on the rocks or straight to the vein, damn the glass. Plan a tour across the country under these circumstances? Absolutely.

Why not blog it?

  It all seems dangerously brilliant.  She thought to herself for a brief moment, and then turned the page.  What am I feeling right now?  Of course you want to read about the misadventures: the drug fueled, deviant, music plagued existence that I have come to know as home.  A life on the road, surrounded by love and family.  My demented musings generally come to me in spurts of energy found in the wee hours of morning, after a heavy night of drinking. It is when the world spins and comes into focus in one giant jumbled up ramble that pours from my mouth to the recorder, then to torn sheets of notebook paper.  I am still old school in that sense.  There is a certain element that makes it personal when you read it in your own handwriting, it makes it real.  I assure you that things happen out there, that probably should never be written about.  There are things that must be taken into account, with names changed to protect the idiots (I say that because rarely are any of us innocent, nor do we ever care to be.)
  I felt like I should have followed that with a wink of an eye, and continue to spill whatever vomit decides to surface right now.  Ah, the mountains in the morning.  The crisp morning air that leaves a hint of dew across the horizon.  It really is breathtaking.  I was hoping for some red and purple this morning but, I will settle for grays and blues.  It is really the fresh air that brought me outdoors this morning.  So about the music.
  I am not that deep and profound after shows.  I generally take down my initial reactions, as not to forget important details.  Then I put it all away and hope that it was relevant enough to end up in the magazine.  Some things clearly are not.  So, I hold on to those photographs and wait until they become relevant.  I generally keep it pretty raw and simple when it comes to publishing.  As Frank Zappa has said, "Definition of rock journalism: People who can't write, doing interviews with people who can't think, in order to prepare articles for people who can't read." Though I don't necessarily agree 100% with that, there might be some truth behind it.
  I guess here sort of gives me a venue to be a little more honest about things. I will post some random thoughts and photographs here, things that might not show up anywhere else.  Hopefully, anyone who decides to read this will share their thoughts and comments.