Category: Flotsam and Jetsam

11
Apr
2020
14:37

Clapocalypse

You ever spend way too much time and effort on a throwaway joke? Like when a post by a friend makes you jokingly say that you want to create a version of the Friends theme that has claps through the whole song? So you get the Friends theme and painstakingly find some group claps in your drum software, and then tune them and tweak the Abbey Road Chambers reverb plugin trying to perfectly match the sound and tone of the original claps? And they’re still not perfect but you realize how much effort you’ve put into this and all the much better things you could have put that effort into so you call it “good enough” and move on with your life?

No? Just me?

MOAR CLAPS
01
Feb
2020
20:53

My Abandoned Corner

I feel like when Twitter and Facebook took over the internet, it mostly killed blogs. People don’t want to leave their walled gardens for content. My blog never had a lot of traffic but these days, I figure there’s next to none. And of course, that isn’t helped by the fact that I never post here because I’m always posting on Facebook. But I also post more there because that’s where the people are so it’s a bit a snake eating its tail, chicken or the egg kind of scenario.

Sometimes though, I find this a bit comforting. Like there was a thought I had and kind of wanted to express but didn’t necessarily want a lot of attention on it, and I thought this blog seemed like a perfect place. It scratches that itch of expressing the thought and yet probably no one (or very few people) will see it. A strange middle ground I know. I’m not even sure why it feels good to express stuff like this if you aren’t looking for reactions, sympathy, or comfort or something, but it does.

I’m not sure why I hesitate expressing personal, vulnerable things sometimes. My best guess is that it’s because part of me thinks “Why? What’s the point in posting that? I don’t want sympathy or comfort and people probably don’t want to hear it any way,” or maybe it’s some fear in me about being judged or exposing myself like that (though I tend to be a pretty open book), or some combination of these and other factors. My mind does love analyzing these things though. I knew from a young age that if music and acting weren’t my calling, then psychologist or psychiatrist would have been a career path for me.

Any way, the thought that inspired all these other thoughts was simply this: it has now been just over a year since my last electronic communication with her (about 2 years since our last non-electronic communication). I never in all eternity thought we would end up here. Completely disconnected as if we didn’t know each other and had never met. Not even polite holiday greetings. I thought at the very least, we would always be friends and in each other’s lives. Then again, I thought we would always be together, so what did I know. I was wrong about a whole plethora of things.

12
Jan
2020
3:22

Life’s Strange And Beautiful Road

In 1999, I lived in Dallas for a year. My roommate Esteban and I went to see the Arcangels at a club in Fort Worth. The opening band was a band called Cadillac Voodoo Choir and we were both blown away by them. We were also both particularly blown away by the keyboard player, a guy named Danny Smith. He was a great musician, singer and just had a great stage presence. I got their CD. Later on, just for fun, I learned all the guitar parts on their CD, and thought, “Hey if they ever need a guitarist, I know it all now!.
Fast forward several years (I can’t remember the exact time). I have no recollection of exactly how this meeting came to be, but I was living back in College Station again (my home town), and I drove to Austin to meet the drummer of Cadillac Voodoo Choir (which I think may have been defunct at this point) to talk about a new project he was getting together. We met at Star Seeds, had a conversation and I gave him a demo CD with some of my originals. Nothing ever came of it.
Then tonight, I had a gig with Scottish Thunder. Through a series of random coincidences and chains of events, Danny Smith ended up sitting in with us tonight on keys, guitar and vocals. Super talented, and more than that just a phenomenally nice guy. The more we talked the more we seemed to have in common and I felt that “kindred spirit” vibe. The “brother from another mother” thing.
And as coincidence icing on the coincidence cake, I happened to mentioned one of my all time favorite artists and influences, Butch Walker, and while most people have no idea who he is, it turned out that Danny is friends with him. Now in my world this is kind of like if someone was like “Paul McCartney? Oh yeah, we’re buds!”
Anyway it was a phenomenally fun gig with 4 other super talented friends and I felt like we were pretty solid, put on a good show and at the very least had a blast doing it with good people. Life is strange and beautiful.

24
Aug
2019
23:25

Choo! Choo! All Aboard The Train Of Thought!

I’m simultaneously ambitious and lazy. Ambazy? Lazitious? Choo! Choo! All aboard the Train Of Thought. You don’t even need a ticket.

As I was taking a walk tonight (one of my very favorite activities), I found myself a bit irritated at how the night had misled me. I had stepped out and thought “Oh, it actually doesn’t seem too hot out right now! Let’s take advantage of that!” A little over a mile later, feeling sweaty and muggy it was obvious that I had been deceived. However, I had also been considering whether to take up French again. I had 3 years of French back in high school and I always find myself surprised at how much of it has stuck over the passing eons. I tested myself, seeing if I could translate my random thoughts and phrases into French and usually I could at least rudimentally get there. Or “Un peu” as they say.

Maybe I should pick it back up via Duolingo or something similar! And that’s when the plunge down the rabbit hole began. Look out the window of the car and enjoy the ride on my Train Of Thought:

“Ah, but Spanish would be much more practical and actually useful quite often. But I also wanted to learn Japanese to honor the Japanese line in my family. But that’s way harder. A whole different alphabet. Oh yeah, I also want to learn violin, and now I have one. But I already don’t do any of the things I “should” or “could” do and just waste away a LOT of free time. I mean I have many script ideas, short films I need to get going, songs and other random ideas. I should already spend more time on the skills I’ve been honing for 35+ years. Maintain and improve. Acting, guitar playing. Drumming, bass playing. I could be a way better keyboard player than I am. I pretty much never touch mandolin, ukulele, or harmonica unless specifically needed for something I’m doing. I really need to get more exercise and workouts into my life as well. And good god do I need to find a way to get my diet under control and stop being such a completely unattractive tub o’ lard. Oh yeah, and just generally figure out my life and where I want to go and what I want to do. Do I really want to pursue being an actor at the Disney Star Wars park and just give everything else up to have a cool, steady job doing something at least related to what I love doing and not have to deal with “The Hustle” of freelancing and pursuing my dreams? I mean is that even an option? That seems like it’s likely a difficult path as well. Wait, how did I get here? Oh yeah, maybe I should pick French back up. Man, I need a nap now.”

20
Aug
2019
17:32

Army Of The Dead

“Army Of The Dead” IS HERE!
Do you like huge, epic, cinematic, theatrical songs about necromancers, undead armies, and lost love? Then boy howdy, is this the song for you.

Andrew Hunter, who wrote the song, has been one of my best friends since 4th grade. We used to spend the night on weekends, play D&D, eat lots of junk food, play video games, and make up silly songs. Back then we called ourselves “AH-HA” (our initials). We were pissed when A-Ha stole our thunder and got famous with “Take On Me.” He is a talented artist and author as well (you can find his books on Amazon, and his audiobooks are narrated by yours truly).

I thought it might be fun for anyone interested to hear the original file he sent me as a guide to see how it started and then how it ended (my song). I kept all his synth parts in the final song. Eventually, the song will be on youtube accompanied by his original artwork accompanying it. We are both thrilled with how it came out and I love that we are still collaborating after almost 40 years.

You can also find it on all the streaming stores and services soon.

07
Aug
2019
22:27

The Dilemmas Of The Creative Process

My brain wheels have been CRANKING ever since I wrote a new 10 page short last night and had a long analysis and discussion about it with one of my dearest friends, Brian Villalobos.

This was an idea that I’d had many, many years ago and never actually wrote. Recently when I switched to FadeIn as my new writing software, I was importing old scripts and saw this title among them (even though I never actually wrote anything). I was like “Oh yeah! That idea!” I then heard a podcast which actually related to certain elements of this idea, and with my shiny new software (Ooh! New toy!), I was off and running.

I knew there would be three related scenes, all set at the exact same location over three different periods of time. I knew roughly what the “story” of each scene was. I actually wrote them in reverse order because the last scene was practically complete in my head, the second scene I had a pretty good idea about and the first scene I only had a very loose concept of the basic theme. Scenes 3 and 2 flowed out of me like water from a firehose. I tried not to think too much and just let it get out of my head and into existence so I’d have something there that I could always go back and tweak. Then I had to figure out the first scene. I took a long walk. I had a few basic ideas and possibilities, but then on this walk, one of them locked in and it started writing itself. I got home and started pouring it out, and simultaneously messaging with Brian. I finished it and immediately sent it over, as one of the parts was written for him and I trust and respect his intelligence, instinct and feedback immensely. I told him to pull no punches, I’m not delicate, and I’m good at filtering what is useful to me and what is just “not in line with my vision” or such. I’m open to critique.

He gave me lots of great feedback, all of which I agreed with and as often happens, confirmed some of my own instincts as to what could be viewed as weaknesses. It was revealing. It got me thinking. Mentally exploring other paths and possibilities. It was late so I went to sleep on it. Today my brain still ruminated on it all. What does it want to be? What do I want it to be? What is my intention here? I still have not answered that question but it’s all terribly interesting to me.

The biggest (subjective) weaknesses (my word, not his, and I totally agree with this) is that there isn’t enough conflict and not really any stakes. It’s light, quippy, and (as most of my writing is) extremely dialogue heavy. Walls of bantering dialogue. Here was my biggest revelation of the day though: I’m not sure it wants to be anything different. Again, I completely agree with the feedback and even things that I just personally see as deficiencies that didn’t even come from him, but every time I thought of good ways to introduce more conflict or higher stakes, I wasn’t sure I liked it. I realized that what I had written was just three moments in time about love in different forms between three characters. By all conventional wisdom and “rules,” this likely is not a good screenplay. And yet, it might just be what it wants to be and what I wanted it to be. There’s so much conflict and darkness going on all around that maybe I just want three scenes about three good people and the love they share between them all. Or maybe not. Maybe there’s so much deeper it could go.

So it’s a strange dilemma. I’m trying to just get some distance and come back to it a little fresher later. I don’t want to “force” any changes on it but at the same time is there any chance of it turning out well under these circumstances? Could the story, acting, cinematography, atmosphere, etc. still engage people and make them feel? Or will it just be a boring 10 minute character study that doesn’t really go anywhere or do anything and keeps people from really connecting with the characters? I really don’t know. I have no idea where this journey will go but I find it utterly fascinating, and I always say that the journey is more important than the destination.

30
May
2019
21:21

The Tale Of A Heart

Once I had a heart.
A wonderful heart full of magic, whimsy, love, and dreams.
An exceptional heart. An amazing heart. A wise and romantic heart.

She had a heart that harmonized and synchronized with mine.
A perfect balance of similarity and complementary.
We opened ourselves and shared our hearts, unequivocally and in totality.

She cared for my heart like no one ever had.
Made it do backflips in the vibrant sun.
Discovered new rooms, dimensions and qualities that no words can describe.

Until the day it ended.
Suddenly and unexpectedly.
With no room for conversation or compromise.

A painful hole where my heart once was.
Ragged, black, scarred edges.
A place where nothing can grow.

This is the reality of my heartless existence now.

If I let it be.
If I choose that perspective.
If I let that be my identity.

And I do have a choice.
We have far more choice than we think or feel.
But we do.

So I let that voice have its say.
And I let my heart hide away.
But I feel its beat.

I am a Love Warrior.
Scarred and scared, but alive and strong.
My heart forever the beat of my song.

06
May
2019
14:16

Farewell And Fair Sailing, Carnival Liberty

1 month of rehearsals in Florida.
52 cruises over 26 weeks.
107 band shows.
5 shows as the only vocalist (co-singer was out sick).
1 show as solo vocalist and guitar player (guitar parts learned in the hours leading up to the show), while the normal guitar player covered the bass parts on his guitar, pitch shifted down an octave because both the bass player and female vocalist were out sick).
1 show as bass player and co-vocalist (bass parts learned in the hours leading up to the show).
2 shows missed due to being sick (I was hoping for none).
A handful of shows with a very sub-par voice due to illnesses.
100 America Rocks Shows (Theater production) .
Approximately 31000 nautical miles traveled.
Approximately 177,000 total guests (No way to know how many actually saw us perform, of course).
We leave as the #1 band in the Entire Carnival fleet of 26 ships.

Personal Accolades (braggy, I know):
Volunteered as the Entertainment Department Safety Representative.
Chosen as “Star of the Month” (Entertainment Department only).
Nominated for “Team Member of the Month” (This one is shipwide).
Multiple trainings such as “Crowd Management and Control” and how to pilot and command a survival craft as well as it’s layout and vital information and such.

I got to turn my brain off for seven months and make a good paycheck doing what I love 6 nights a week. No hustling or wondering about my next job or how much money I would make next month. I got to sing and play great tunes with an amazing band for enthusiastic, appreciative, and hyperbolically complimentary crowds. I performed with an amazing cast and crew in a great theater. I worked alongside an international crew of amazing people all over the ship.

For the first time in my life I performed as (mostly) just a singer and front man, something I had been a little worried about as it’s not normally what I do and I feel a little naked without an instrument, but I settled into it fairly painlessly and rose to the occasion (according to my own self-assessment as well as my evaluations by management). I educated myself on how to treat myself as a “vocal athlete” and trained to do my best at meeting the incredible demands of singing 6 nights a week. I honed my instrument to be the best and sharpest it has probably ever been (when not hobbled by cough, colds, phlegm, etc., but more on that in a moment).

I had my ego and confidence boosted and reinforced and can confidently say that I am good at what I do. I had my ego and confidence bruised and humbled by the fact that I have limits and can’t always do anything just because I put my mind to it or because I want to. I learned how use my voice in new ways. How to best use it when it’s not fully functional. Different techniques and approaches. How to feel out where it was on any particular day and gauge how well it was operating so I could adjust accordingly. I developed alternate strategies and plans for when it was not operating at peak efficiency. I learned how much I could really “go for it” in a given night while still being able to do it again the next night and when to pull it back and take it easy to preserve it.

I learned the huge variety of ways my voice can be adversely affected by cold, cough, illness, phlegm, etc. You open your mouth and only have maybe 40% of your normal voice. While you are normally a belter, that doesn’t work tonight so you have to sing in a completely different way to just eke out as much sound as you can. Sometimes your high range is just gone so you have to do a lot more falsetto than normal (strangely, through all of it, my falsetto was always there). Some nights you just have no stamina, vocally. You start out feeling like your voice has finally recovered, but then as the night goes on, it deteriorates. Some nights your mouth and throat just seem determined to be a barren desert no matter how much water, tea, lozenges,and throat spray (multiple types) you use, and again, your voice quickly deteriorates. One night, the only way I could get a decent performance was to constantly keep Grether’s Pastilles in my mouth while singing, and all night long I was super paranoid and careful about making sure I didn’t suck it down my windpipe. There were just so many different ways in which my voice could be hobbled by illness and each had to be dealt with in its own way. Some nights my voice was just unpredictable and erratic. With singing six nights a week, I could really tell the difference after our one night off. The next night everything would be so much more effortless. So much so that I would sometimes overshoot or overpower a note. I got to know my voice more completely than ever.

I’ve been playing music for 36 years and singing for around 32 years. Vocally, I’ve always been kind of wild, chaotic, untrained and quite frankly, lucky that my voice has performed so well all these years under those conditions. I come out of this journey with so much valuable experience, knowledge and wisdom. I come out of this a better singer, performer, and just overall a better person. It didn’t solve any life problems or banish any ghosts or demons (you can’t run away from those, no matter how hard you try or how far you run), but I think it gave me (mostly) what I was looking for from it and more.

I will miss every single person who I have crossed paths with in this adventure and I emerge from this a richer person than I entered it. Time for new adventures, of which I already have many waiting when I get home.

To quote Samwise Gamgee from the Lord of the Rings trilogy of books (a quote I’ve used before and will again as I find it so powerful in its simplicity and context), “Well, I’m back.”

Or, you know, I will be after a week at Disney World and Universal Studios.

04
Apr
2019
12:42

The Tell-Tale Hose

A true story told in the style of Edgar Allen Poe

‘Twas the third day. The third day that the incessant sound of water being sprayed from a hose onto the echoing metal of the ship stirred me from my sleep and slowly filled my bosom with annoyance. Droplet by droplet, the annoyance accumulated until it was like a Sisyphean boulder made of water that your hands and body can find no purchase to push. Try as you might, the watery gargantuan grows with each watery pebble added to its girth and simply envelopes your hands, arms, body and soul.

How long had it been spraying it’s aquatic taunt? For the previous two days, it must have gone on for several hours, and today seemed to see no end as well. Time skews as I drift in and out of sleep, trying to ignore the aural leviathan. What possibly needs to be sprayed with that much water so often? The walls? The floor? The ceiling? In an echoing metal ship, the sound is impossible to precisely locate and yet sounds as if it comes from within the very walls themselves. It gets softer, as if perhaps they’ve moved on to a section further away. Occasionally it stops, giving me hope that once again slumber might take me in its welcoming embrace, but then it returns and with each subsequent visit, my heart beats faster in my bosom. Is this what going mad feels like?

Each rivulet colliding with a metallic cackle pierces me like a meteor shower to my planetary body leaving me cratered and pock marked and pushing my sanity slowly out of its orbit. Three days of this seemingly perpetual hydrolytic cacophony buffeting my eardrums until my very heart in my bosom has no choice but to fall into a rhythmic duet. This hydra is my master now. I will arise from my bed, giving up my dream of sleep, for the only other choice is madness. I am awake now, resigned to my fate as a slave to the dancing duo of hydrogen molecules in a ménage-a-trois with their oxygen lover, and their countless identical allies. Why, I myself am made primarily of these trios and never stood a chance. They are inside me.

And then silence. Now that I am awake, silence. Where the mocking marine melody once made its music, now an empty, silent, and all too awake space in my bosom, like an empty bed after a lover’s all too abrupt departure. Its work is done. I’m not mad, I’m simply virtually and aurally hydrated. Look into my wide and watery eyes and you will see I’m not mad. The glistening teeth, tongue, and lips of my enveloping smile are well lubricated, but I am not mad. Perhaps you just feel my water calling to yours.

Bosom.

14
Mar
2019
12:02

The Story Of Kaylee Ane Me

I’m thinking about my “ex-dog,” Kaylee, tonight for some reason and feel compelled to write about our story together. I’ve always loved animals, but never wanted any myself as I didn’t want the expense or the responsibility. Being a freelance actor and musician, I’m gone a lot as well, so not the best home for an animal. Kaylee belonged to my ex when we started dating and so I started spending a lot of time with her, watching her and walking her a lot (Kaylee, that is…not my ex). When we moved in together (all three of us), Kaylee very much became “our” dog. It was never like “Hey, you need to get your dog some more food,” or anything like that. My ex had a regular day job, and so I, being a freelancer, could spend a lot more time with Kaylee at home, on walks, for vet appointments, etc. She was a very quirky dog. Not in any bad way. She was a poop diva. Very particular about where she went, and almost always had to poop twice per walk instead of getting it out all in one go which was slightly annoying and used a lot of doggy bags. She was very enthusiastic and loving in her way but not the most affectionate dog you’d ever meet. Never the less she was sweet, good-natured and I loved her immensely (Kaylee that is, though that also applied to my ex).

When my ex and I broke up, it was the first time I’d ever had to deal with losing a pet in the process (as well as a girlfriend, a home and neighborhood I loved, and such that made it feel like many breakups in one). Now once again, my aim here is not to gain sympathy or paint my ex in a bad light. It was complicated and she had to do what she felt was right so there are no villains in this story, to be clear. My ex soon after got a job traveling a lot so, much to her dismay, was not really in a position to keep Kaylee (and neither was I), so Kaylee went to live with my ex’s parents which is actually a great life for Kaylee. She has another dog to be with who she loves, a great climate, attentive humans, a yard, and wonderful scenery. All in all, her life likely got majorly upgraded.

Maybe all this thinking was prompted by the latest Radiolab episode which had a part about dogs and their behaviors and such (specifically whether they can be “racist”) and it made me wonder how much emotion, thinking, and anthropomorphism we put on them and how much is real. Like, I haven’t seen Kaylee in probably 2 years and I wonder if she would remember me and how much she loved me, or if I would just be like any other stranger to her now. Was it simply that I fed, walked and took care of her? Do we imagine these bonds because we want them to be true? I don’t think so. I do think there’s enough evidence throughout history to support these ideas to some degree, but I just wonder if it goes as deep as we want it to. I hope she would remember me. Sometimes I still send her thoughts. I hope her doggie brain still thinks of me sometimes. You’re a good girl, Kaylee. I know you’re happy. I just hope you don’t forget me. I’ll chew on a squeaky stuffed snake in your honor.

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