The Incoherant Ramblings of a Poetic Compulsive

Must-Have Android Apps

2011-04-22T11:41:00.000-07:00

Late 2010 I got my first "smart phone". An Android of course. I had an existing contract with Verizon when I lived in the Portland metro area, and so having every desire to not break said contract and pay the exorbitant fee, I stuck with the carrier despite its poor service in the area I now live in. It's good enough. I get by just fine. I did not at the time know that Apple's incredibly popular iPhone would be available on the Verizon network and knowing that now...I still think I would have stuck with my Android phone. And here's why: for as much as I love my iPod, I hate how I'm stuck with iTunes. I dislike the necessity to utilize Apple products for the hundreds of songs I downloaded in their proprietary format, and I dislike in general how Apple tends to do the same with ALL their products. They are, inconceivably, not the least bit flexible or customizable. Good luck installing a new launcher/home replacement/UI on ANY Apple product. If I don't like the way my Samsung Fascinate's message boxes look in txt message UI, I can quite simply get a replacement, or if I don't like the built-in Car Dock...GONE! And MANY of the replacements available for even the core functions of the Android phones are chocked FULL of customizations. Colors, shapes, themes, sizes, fonts, everything I want to tweak and mess with I can. I'm surrounded by people that own and love their iPhones - and the poor souls can't even replace their own batteries. OK, enough about that.

As I mentioned before, I own a Samsung Fascinate, that I'm happy to announced I FINALLY got the FROYO (2.2) update for just yesterday. Sweetness. Love the simple functionality upgrades that came with that and am looking forward to longer battery life (or so I'm told). I can't help myself, I simply HAVE to share the top 10 essential, MUST-HAVE applications for an Android phone.

#10 - Mobile Queue from Netflix
If you're a Netflix member, there's nothing better. You're out on the go and you see a preview or a friend tells you there's some movie you just HAVE to see. So you whip out your phone and add it to your queue. Maybe put it at the top, or fix your queue so that some movie that's been in a waiting state and is now at the bottom of your queue, goes to the top. Netflix goodies for your Android.

#9 - Remember the Milk
RTM is a task/to-do list manager. It's great. There's a web interface, an iGoogle plugin, and of course an Android app. Custom reminders, color coding, prioritization, mass editing, and a fun widget to go right next to your calendar.

#8 - GO SMS Pro
If I'm not mistaken I paid for the pro version, and there's a free version out there that's practically the same. HUGE customizations of the SMS/text message interface. Super great. Downloadable themes, a decent widget for the home screen, customize everything and get an additional free notification pack which allows you to further customize how you're notified about text messages, phone calls, emails and more. So much better than the stock TouchWhiz messaging app which looks and feels cartoonish.

#7 - Active Apps
What was awesome about the TouchWhiz UI is it came with this very intelligent Task Manager application. Which I still have, even now, after replacing the launcher/UI with an aftermarket, but the WIDGET is gone. I looked and looked and looked and FINALLY somebody came out with a simple widget, displaying the number of active background applications, easily readable and, again, FULLY customizable in a plethora of mechanisms. If you're utilizing a home replacement, and miss the task manager widget, this dandy little app is what you're looking for in the market.

#6 - NoLED
There are two things I don't like about the Samsung Fascinate, and really only two. First is its integration with Bing. Second, there's no LED letting me know I've missed a call, text, email, etc. When my phone's in my pocket, I want the screen off. When I take it out, I'd like a visual, not necessarily audible way of knowing I've missed something. (FYI, for those that want an audible or vibrating notification, NoLED in combination with "Missed Reminder" is the way to go). This leaves your phone's screen mostly off (black) and using a very minimal amount of batter and processor/memory, displays a small floating little icon notifying you that you've missed any number of events including calendar appointments, emails, texts, calls, and more - again fully customizable in many different ways.

#5 - Facebook
This is a no-brainer. If you use Facebook and want an app on your phone, this is a must-have. Since getting this, I've turned off all notifications within Facebook to my SMS device.

#4 - Maps (by Google)
This too is a no-brainer. The Samsung Fascinate comes with a Bing/Verizon combination of maps and navigation via GPS, but it's horrible. If you're like the rest of the world, the first thing you'll do is hide (because you can't remove) every last reference to Bing on your phone and replace it with Google stuff. This suite of applications came with not just Maps, but Navigation, an additional app called "Latitude" which lets you share places with your contacts, and "Places" which is a decent interface for searching for popular types of locales such as restaurants, coffee shops, and others (again, with some customization).

Side note: It does look like Samsung/Verizon incorporated a Google search app and widget for the Fascinate with the Froyo update, so at least you get the choice now; however the hard-coded search button on the Fascinate phone itself appears to still be mapped to Bing without the ability to change it (which is why I never use it).

#3 - Car Home Ultra
Now we're really getting into the creme de la creme. So the Verizong/Bing integration that came with the phone included a stock Car Dock app that is, again, chocked full of Verizon and Bing apps with zero customization within the app. However, with Android being the master of customization that it is, I replaced my car dock quite easily. And Car Home Ultra is the proverbial bomb. Big fat buttons that are easy to press at an arm's reach away, fully customizable of course, a night mode, a speedometer, a constant compass, it can verbally give you notifications of the areas and towns you enter and exit, brightness adjustment, and much more. This is the way to go for any Android phone that gets used in the car, and especially if you utilize the Car Dock (which I highly recommend for Fascinate users).

#2 - GO Launcher EX
I almost didn't include this because I'm not sure I'd really call this an app. But I suppose without splitting too many hairs, that it is. It's a Home replacement. Otherwise known as a new "UI" or "Launcher". If you're new to Android lingo those all mean the same thing and they have nothing to do with "rooting" your phone. It's all very legal and very cool. I've tried out 3 or 4 of the most popular launchers and this one by far gets my vote. Fully customizable & assignable 5-button dock complete with icon customization. Add as many home screens as you want and make them rotate around like sides of a cube or a few other transition options. Your apps and icons are totally customizable too in terms of resizing widgets, etc. Context menus for long-presses on nearly all objects in the UI. Gestures for all kinds of assignable tasks including make your notification bar disappear/reappear (which I use). And the app drawer blows away the TouchWhiz UI's app drawer. All-in-all, a totally worthwhile $1.99.

#1 - Tasker
Wow, I just can't say enough how much I love this app. I've tried trials and even bought some of the competitors software such as Easy Profiles, Setting Profiles Pro, "Profile" and Locale...and I'm here to tell you that Tasker is THE way to go. I use it to make my phone do a multitude of modifications based on triggers. Want your phone to go to silent mode & 10% screen brightness from midnight to 6am, Monday through Friday, when your GPS says you're HOME? How about vibrate only mode, or calendar appointments play the Star Trek theme when you're at work (based on GPS location) past 6pm? Or automatically reboot once a week? Maybe pre-launch your large Bible app for you when you arrive at CHURCH? Or only answer the phone in speaker mode when you're in the car on the dock? I NEVER EVER have to put my ringer on or off. This app handles it all for me. Yes it took me a few weeks to get in all the customizations I wanted, but once I was done - it's been a life saver. This app is totally worth the six and a half bucks.

HOME SCREENS
Just for fun, here's what's on my home screens:

Screen 1 (far left) is my Games Screen: Android Lightsaber, Angry Birds, Tetris, Scanner Radio (police/EMT/fire scanner), Tricorder, Ninja Rush, Glow Hockey, Tiger NES Emulator, Tiger SNES Emulator, Fruit Ninja, Mahjong

Screen 2 (2nd screen from left) is my general common apps screen: Gallery, Market, Calculator, Tasker, Flashlight, KeePassDroid, Maps, Bible, uNote, Daily Brief.
Widgets: Remember the Milk and the new Calendar widget from Froyo update.

Screen 3 (3rd screen from left) is my social screen: "The City" bookmark link to my church's social networking app, Facebook, LinkedIn, Email, & Calendar app shortcuts.
Widgets: Facebook (2x4), Google Search (1x4), & GO SMS Pro (2x4) messaging widget.

Screen 4 (4th from left) is my home screen: Sense Analog Glass Clock & Active Apps 1x1 widget.

Screen 5 (from left) is my phone screen: Missed Reminders, Reverse Lookup, and Voicemail.
Widgets: NoLED (1x1), new "Contacts" (4x1) widget from Froyo update, and picture frame of my wife.

Screen 6 is my sports screen: Yankees.com bookmark shortcut, MLB.com bookmark shortcut, At Bat Lite, ScoreCenter from ESPN, Sports Illustrated, FootballFan, and NFL Mobile.
Widgets: MLB At Bat Lite (1x5) & ScoreCenter (1x5).

Screen 7 is my movies/entertainment screen: Mobile Queue Netflix, IMDB, Fandango, Video Player, Youtube, Blockbuster, Kindle, Media Hub (new from Froyo update).
Widgets: Youtube (1x5)

Screen 8 is my music screen: gStrings Free (guitar tuner), Jam11 (beta for iTunes streaming from my computer to my phone over the Internet), JamBox, stock Music Player, Winamp.
Widgets: Pandora (1x5) and Winamp (2x5).

Screen 9 (last from left, first from right) is my shopping screen: Grocery Gadget (syncs my phone with my wife's for shopping lists), Amazin MP3, my banking app, CraigslistMobile, PayPal, eBay, and Barcode Scanner.
Widgets: Gracery Gadget (1x5).

Dock buttons (dock 1): Phone, camera, app drawer, messaging, browser. Dock 2: contacts, navigation, car home, email, calendar.

CARHOME ULTRA SCREENS:
Screen 1 (center position, home screen): Voice search, navigation, GO SMS Pro (to read, never to write while driving), Maps, GasBuddy, and a shortcut to call my wife's phone.

Screen 0 (left of center): banking app, Remember the Milk, Grocery Gadget, and Calendar.

Screen 2 (right of center): Phone, Voicemail, Daily Briefing, Scanner Radio, Email

HONORABLE Mentions (apps not on a home screen, but still good)

OI File Manager
Southwest Airlines
Stunning Sunset Wallpapers
Zedge
Android Movie Ringtones
ThinkFree Office

Pod X3 Live: Settings for Acoustics w/UST Pickups (live to a PA)

2007-12-19T16:40:00.000-08:00

Setup
Before I started I made sure my onboard EQ for the Taylor guitar was flat and the EQ-ing on the channel was flat as well. I strung a very long quarter inch instrument cable from the stage to the the midpoint of the sanctuary (middle/center of a big room) to the Pod X3 Live unit where I was sitting. I then strung a very long XLR cable from the Pod X3 Live unit to the snake in the back of the room and listened to the FOH mains. I killed the monitors and I made sure I could not hear the acoustic properties of the guitar over the mains. I then had my buddy stand on stage and play different types of music, fingerstyle, arpeggios with a pick, light strumming, heavy strumming, palm mutes, etc while I tweaked settings on the Pod from where I sat. I set the Pod Master Volume to maximum and tweaked tone volumes as appropriate. "Live Out Level" was set to "Line" not AMP and "Ground Lift" was set to GND.

Preset:
And here's what I came up with. Hope this helps somebody else out there!

AMP: Line 6 Super Clean
CAB: 4x12 '01 Treadplate
MIC: '67 Condensor
ROOM: 30%

--Amp EQ--
BASS: 80%
MID: 31%
TREBLE: 60%
PRES: 9%
DRIVE: 16%
VOL: 100%

STOMP: n/a

MOD: Sine Chorus (off by default)
--Chorus Settings--
SPEED: 0.61Hz
TAP: Off
TEMPO: 150bpm
MIX: 41%
PRE Config

DELAY: Stereo Delay (off by default)
--Delay Settings--
TIME: 400ms
TAP: Off
TEMPO: 150bpm
MIX: 30%
L-FDBK: 38%
R-FDBK: 50%
OFFSET: 67%
POST Config

REVERB: Dark Hall (on by default)
--Reverb Settings--
PREDLY: 50%
DECAY: 50%
TONE: 50%
MIX: 29%

Noise Gate: Off/unconfigured

COMPRESSOR: on by default
--Compressor Settings--
THRESH: -9db
GAIN: 3db

EQ: on by default
--EQ Settings--
LO GN: Flat @ 260Hz
LM GN: -3.4db @ 310Hz
HM GN: +1.8db @ 1.8kHz
HI GN: -1.0db @ 2.90kHz

Regards!

:Bazooka-Joe

Age Before Beauty

2006-09-27T16:12:00.000-07:00

My workplace requires a minimum of four hours of “diversity training” annually. Four hours of employer-enforced homage paying to the liberal gods of whining, complaining, political correctness, anti-family propaganda, gay agendas, and brainwashing. If their goal was for me to wake up the next morning to nightmares of losing my job to a completely unqualified individual in the name of affirmative action then congratulations boss, you’ve officially scared me into submission. Anyway, without going too far down that path, my point is that some of this training is a little easier to stomach than others. The “Generations At Work” training, for example, that I took last year was full of sorts of stereotyping and broad statements but instead of being specific to gender, race, handicap, or sexual preference, it specifically targeted ages, agism, and the fact that my workplace is primarily composed of baby boomers and the new employees coming in are 30 years younger than them. The “teacher” (term used loosely) spent most of the time speaking directly to said boomers and trying to explain why Gen-Xers, and Gen-Nexters act, talk, socialize, and think the way they do.

Wikipedia defines Generation X as anyone born between 1969 and 1988. The class curriculum however defined Generation X as 1965 to 1980 and by its definition I was/am a member of Generation X, though I’m likely equally influenced by the pop culture and news-worthy happenings of GeneratioNext as well (1981-2000). Wikipedia I think really does a better breakdown of the generational ranges, as they display some significant overlap between them. Technically, according to Wiki, I’m part of the “MTV Generation,” a subset of generation X born between 1975 and 1985. I find that to be depressing and ultimately offensive, but whatever. Instead of Generation Next, Wiki uses the term Generation Y to describe those born between 1977 and 2003. So you see, technically, being born in 1979, I’m a member of all three (and yet, somehow, none of them). It’s like those tests you take that are so prominent on Myspace that tell you if you’re left-brained or right-brained, introverted or extroverted, more like Screech, Zach or Slater. The analytical side of my brain that likes the breakfast cereal aisle in the grocery store really loves that kind of stuff (but the kid in me craves the frosting).

So today’s blog is about age and pop culture. I satisfactorily and mathematically have proven to myself, this very day, that I am most decidedly, getting old. Even now as I write this, I am celebrating my last few precious hours as a 26 year old. It is my understanding, and my belief that the de facto standardized definition for the term “early twenties” is the age range betwixt 21 through 23. The age of 20 frankly doesn’t belong to “early twenties”, because if you’re 20 years old, you’re technically not “in your twenties”. You’re just 20. I think that’s fair, and most of you I’m sure you would agree. So if we look at “the twenties” as the ages of 21 to 29, it’s easy to compartmentalize them into subcategories. “Mid twenties” obviously picks up at 24 and ends at 26. Which means tomorrow I’m officially in my “late twenties”. At 26 I was closer to 30 than 20, and that came with its own mental baggage and emotional abuse. But now, being officially late twenties, well I might as well be 30. And while 30 in and of itself doesn’t feel old, it sure sounds old.

But it’s more than just a numbers game. It’s crossed over to the right side of my brain as well. My appreciation for art, which really begins and ends with music, has matured to the ranks of “fuddy-duddy” I think too. Or the darned kids these days with their baggyish pants and skating boards would have me believing as much (I squeal aloud as I reposition my teeth and feebly shake my cane in the air). As the archetypes of every generation long before have stated of their successors, I too call out in the name of all irritable, belligerent adults with eyes squinting and covering my ears in pale platitudes of antipathy and aversion; and with ancestry behind me backing my every syllable from which I once defended myself; I now stand and declare:

What is up with music these days?!?!?!
(and with that one single statement I drive the final nail in the proverbial coffin that is my epic quest from hip mid-twenties to prehistoric late-twenties)

Prepare yourself for an earful of opinionated goodness now. I think the main reason I have no desire to associate myself with the title “Generation X”, other than the fact that term is associated with latchkey kids glued to their video game consoles with no ambition or ability/desire to integrate with the ‘real world’…is their music. Let’s face it, 80’s music with a few pleasant pockets of exception, doesn’t withstand the test of time (pardon the cliché). Talking Heads, Flock of Seagulls, Depeche Mode, Toto, Quiet Riot, Bangles, The Knack, Def Leppard, Duran Duran, even Tears for Fears (RIP) simply don’t do anything for…well, for anybody really. Whether it’s “new wave” music, synthpop, 80’s techno, or butt rock it’s rarely ever addressed in conversation as anything but a comical reference to a pop culture time that had seen its hay day and nobody has any desire to see that return. The keytar never had a chance.

But the music of my youth, the music my generation listened to on the radio as teenagers from 1994 to 2000, at least to my mind, is different. While certainly out of style today, it doesn’t have that same embarrassing quality that the Breakfast Club music icons are packaged with. Weezer, Pearl Jam, Everclear, Bush, Radiohead, even the grunge scene is all still listenable music in my own humble opinion. Even baby boomers, a group which I am surrounded by presently, admits the music of the 90’s as a whole is much better than what came out in the 80’s.

And while today’s music doesn’t have that same embarrassing quality that music from the 80’s has, it just doesn’t feel on the same level as the average album release in the late to mid 90’s either. Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m too old now and the music is no longer written for my generation, hence it doesn’t seem as appealing to me as the music that was written for my generation. It really comes down to marketing and the fact that it’s kids between the ages of 13 and 19 that are targeted by the record labels for the most part. I think it’s mostly that age group that defines the music scene any given year because they’re the targeted consumers. I’m not saying anything here that isn’t common knowledge and hasn’t already been stated ad nauseum by others in the blogosphere. But the average cost per byte for disk space these days has gone down so low that I don’t even mind reiterating it one more time for the world to read.

So there it is folks. There’s my plea for my generation and its music when compared to its predecessor and its successor. And justification to myself for why my iPod is half-filled with music that came out during the 6 years that I was the age of the targeted music consumer market.

Coincidentally I’ve heard the book “The Greatest Generation” by Tom Brokaw is a pretty good read about the generation that fought in WWII and experienced the great depression (my grandparents’ generation). I’m considering picking it up and reading, in spite of the fact it was written by Tom Brokaw. If anyone’s read it, I’d love a review on it. So I leave you with these final thoughts. Remember me, as I experience yet another birthday and leave the ranks of the mid-twenties. If you’re 15 and reading this…laugh now you poor wretch. Laugh while you still can. Laugh till it hurts and then realize that some day you’ll need a diaper change from laughing that hard. And yes, I’ll get there before you do but I’ll be done with it before you are too. And to my loyal readership, I’m signing off for the last time as a 26 year old. There’s a slice of sugar free chocolate cake and a scoop of low fat vanilla ice cream with my name on it.

Goosfraba.

:Bazooka-Joe

Bazooka-Joe’s Contribution to the Comeback Cliche

2006-08-07T20:14:00.000-07:00

Hello my loyal blog readership and welcome back to Bazooka-Joe’s Incoherent Ramblings. I’ve been on the blogging DL for some time now, busy with the usual distractions, commitments and video game addictions. If you don’t mind though, I’d like to forego the obligatory “my dog ate it” and get right to the meat of this ere blog. Bazooka-Joe is leaner, meaner, and more regular than ever before (Weight Watchers worked for me). 56 pounds people! That’s right, I’ve lost as much weight as an aquatic butterdeer I’m happy to enunciate. So in celebration of an overly predictable return from hiatus, and in honor of my usual list-based, too-lazy-to-type-paragraphs-for-an-entire-blog form…my first blog back from the depths is….

Top 10 Greatest Comebacks of All Time!

#10 – The McRib Sandwich
Hi everyone. My name is Bazooka-Joe, and I’m a McRib addict. I can’t talk too much about this one or for too long or I’ll go into remission in a blinding blaze of glory ruin my truck’s transmission getting to the nearest McDiabetes. Needless to say this is not on the approved short list of cabbage-family foods from WW, but if my memory serves me right, it’s pretty much the sole rationale a 26 year old would need for being 5’7” and 235 lbs. It’s made a few comebacks in the 90’s and my understanding is that its number was permanently retired, but not before one fleeting moment of stardom in the highly acclaimed McRib Farewell Tour.

#9 – The 1972 Steelers vs. the Raiders
I of course have never actually witnessed this amazing display of footballish heroics the likes of which the world has never seen since. But my understanding of the replays is that it goes something like this: Bradshaw to Francos for a 60 yard TD with 5 seconds on the clock. Often referred to as the “Immaculate Reception”.
(Honorable mention here goes to the 1974 Dolphins vs. Raiders: the Snake to Clarence Davis with 26 seconds left)

#8 – John Travolta’s Return to Film in “Pulp Fiction”
While just about the furthest thing from “family friendly” we can’t really deny that ol’ Johnny really outdid himself with his portrayal of Vincent Vega in the 1994 Quentin Tarantino film about the mob, boxing and bloodshed. Love it or hate it, it’s viewed by most of the public as a masterpiece and definitely put Travolta’s game back on the scene.

#7 – Lee Iacocca
Many squawk about Iacoca receiving billions of Federal dollars to, basically start the US automobile manufacturing industry in the 70’s especially considering his stance on “the government should not be a sugar daddy for incompetent and lazy people who cannot support themselves”. A bit harsh perhaps, but I can’t help but smile to that viewpoint. What people often fail to realize though is that those funds were loaned to Chrysler and the thousands of production line workers were saved. Here’s a quote:
“Chrysler was on the ropes in those days thanks to competition from Ford, GM and especially imports. They were within days of padlocking the place and turning thousands of workers out on the street. Under Iacocca’s leadership, and with the help of those private sector loans, Chrysler made one of the greatest comebacks of all time.” They paid off their loans in full, interest and principle and before they were due.

#6 – The Eagles
If you haven’t heard of the Eagles then you’ve been living under the proverbial rock for literally half a century. What’s funny is, due to their “Hell Freezes Over” CD/DVD, I think they’re actually more famous now than they ever were in the 70’s. In 1993 the band reformed and started the notorious comeback. They’ve had some member problems and some legal problems since then, but their return on the scene was pretty remarkable.

#5 – Yo Mama so fat…
Perhaps the word “comeback” has no more clearly understood and accepted linguistic use in the universe of a 11 year old boy’s mind than the trash-talking “burn”, “putdown” or other synonyms referencing the playful taunt. This exchange proceeds on and on, back and forth, until one of the taunters has no “comeback”. One of the most common burns and comebacks is the “Yo mama so fat…” line of defense. Often accompanied by the popular “Yo mama so ugly” and “yo mama so stupid” comeback allusions. My understanding is that in Britain, they actually say “Your mum…”.

#4 – 80’s Fashion
That’s right, rumor has it that 80’s fashion, in only 20 years time, will be making a comeback no later than next fall (2007). I have to say I can hardly wait! Lopsided ponytails, ripped sweatshirts, aqua eye shadow, parachute pants…YES! Some trends never live long enough or notoriously enough to see the highly coveted come back of the discount thrift bargain bins. For everything else there’s MasterCard.

#3 – Boston’s comeback against the Yankees
I included this in spite of my unwavering loyalty to Joe Torre’s Yankees. Most because I simply couldn’t keep up with replying to all the hate mail my masses of loyal Boston readers would send me. Ortiz, “the curse” (yes I’m making pretend quotation marks with my fingers and saying it in a funny vocal overtone), bloody sock, blah, blah, etc, etc. So there. There’s the proof in this articulate pudding that I’m not biased. Whatever. On to number two.

#2 – Lance Armstrong
Really, I shouldn’t need to expand on this one. Diagnosed with cancer he never should have even lived long enough to compete in his first Tour de France, much less win as many as he has. Five is it now? You gotta love this guy. Beating the French, in France, that many times, single handedly. Lance in my opinion has crossed the echelons of the likes of Babe Ruth, Michael Jordan and Tiger Woods to become world-renowned for his sportsmanship and quality of performance in his sport, and his recognition has long surpassed just the fanatics of his sport. Here’s a quote from Lance’s cameo appearance in the movie “Dodgeball”: Quit? You know, once I was thinking of quitting when I was diagnosed with brain, lung and testicular cancer all at the same time. But with the love and support of my friends and family, I got back on the bike and won the Tour de France five times in a row. But I'm sure you have a good reason to quit.

#1 – The Scottish War of Independence
We’ve all seen the movie “Braveheart” so I don’t think I should even have to expand upon this one much. One of the greatest displays of conquering over adversity and injustice I think the world’s ever seen. The United State’s heritage is similar, though the oppression was far worse for the Scottish in the 13th century than it ever got for the colonies in the 18th century.

A Tribute to Stupidity, Part 2

2005-12-19T12:44:00.000-08:00

Yeah, I'm slacking this week. What can I say...it's Christmas. So I thought I'd share some semi-humorous headlines with you. I tried to sort these so they get better as you read. True stories, every one.

God bless and Merry Christmas!

And the "Marvin the Martian" Award Goes To...
When his 38-caliber revolver failed to fire at his intended victim during a hold-up in Long Beach, California, would-be robber James Elliot did something that can only inspire wonder. He peered down the barrel and tried the trigger again. This time it worked.
"Where's the kaboom? There was supposed to be an Earth-shattering 'kaboom'."

Yah, that's a doozy, alright.
The chef at a hotel in Switzerland lost a finger in a meat-cutting machine and, after a little hopping around, submitted a claim to his insurance company. The company expecting negligence sent out one of its men to have a look for himself. He tried the machine and he also lost a finger. The chef's claim was approved.
"So would you like that in tens and twenties?"

Parking lot rage?
A man who shoveled snow for an hour to clear a space for his car during a blizzard in Chicago returned with his vehicle to find a woman had taken the space. So he shot her.
Officer: "So let me get this straight...you shoveled a parking space for an hour IN blizzard conditions in Chicago?"

Free Ride
After stopping for drinks at an illegal bar, a Zimbabwean bus driver found that the 20 mental patients he was supposed to be transporting from Harare to Bulawayo had escaped. Not wanting to admit his incompetence, the driver went to a nearby bus stop and offered everyone waiting there a free ride. He then delivered the passengers to the mental hospital, telling the staff that the patients were very excitable and prone to bizarre fantasies. The deception wasn't discovered for 3 days.
"Y'all hop on in! We're going to...uhh...Disneyland. Yeah, that's it!"

A Special Kind of Migraine for Idiots
An American teenager was in the hospital recovering from serious head wounds received from an oncoming train. When asked how he received the injuries, the lad told police that he was simply trying to see how close he could get his head to a moving train before he was hit.
Do not play chicken with this man.

Come Rob Me Anytime
A man walked into a Louisiana Circle-K, put a $20 bill on the counter, and asked for change. When the clerk opened the cash drawer, he man pulled a gun and asked for all the cash in the register, which the clerk promptly provided. The man took the cash from the clerk and fled, leaving the $20 bill on the counter. The total amount of cash he got from the drawer...$15.
If someone points a gun at you and gives you money, is a crime committed?

The Perfect PSA for Responsible Drinking
Seems an Arkansas guy wanted some beer pretty badly. He decided that he'd just throw a cinderblock through a liquor store window, grab some booze, and run. So he lifted the cinderblock and heaved it over his head at the window. The cinderblock bounced back and hit the would-be thief on the head, rendering him unconscious. The liquor store window was made of Plexiglas. The whole event was caught on videotape.
Please...don't drink and pillage.

A Coerced Confession
As a female shopper exited a New York convenience store, a man grabbed her purse and ran. The clerk called 911 immediately, and the woman was able to give them a detailed description of the snatcher. Within minutes, the police apprehended the snatcher. They put him in the car and drove back to the store. The thief was then taken out of the car and told to stand there for a positive ID. To which he replied, "Yes, officer, that's her. That's the lady I stole the purse from."
"Son maybe you oughtta get yerself a good attorney, I wouldn't represent myself in court if I were you."

Your Way, Right Away
The Ann Arbor News crime column reported that a man walked into a Burger King in Ypsilanti, Michigan, at 5 a.m., flashed a gun, and demanded cash. The clerk turned him down because he said he couldn't open the cash register without a food order. When the man ordered onion rings, the clerk said they weren't available for breakfast. The man, frustrated, walked away.
What's the world come to if you can't even get Onion Rings for breakfast at gunpoint?

And the winner is...
When a man attempted to siphon gasoline from a motor home parked on a Seattle street, he got much more than he bargained for. Police arrived at the scene to find a very sick man curled up next to a motor home near spilled sewage. A police spokesman said that the man admitted to trying to steal gasoline and plugged his siphon hose into the motor home's sewage tank by mistake. The owner of the vehicle declined to press charges, saying that it was the best laugh he'd ever had.

URGE: The Rich Geeks & The Cool Kids Collaborate?

2005-12-15T14:16:00.000-08:00

Talk about your unlikely bedfellows. Microsoft announced Tuesday it would be teaming up MTV Networks Inc to create a new online music sales service along the lines of iTunes, called Urge. The name begs the question...the "urge" to do what? I find this to be a most ironic collaboration effort. Now, I’m stereotyping here so bare with me, but I went on tour with a Christian rock band 3 or 4 separate times since the summer began and I had the privilege of inundating myself amidst the MTV culture of no less than 15 different states from here to Tennessee. I met and talked with them at length before the shows, during, and especially after. Many of them churched, just as many not though. All of them treated us quite amicably though. I followed contractual obligations to dress and wear my hair like they do in an attempt to fool them into think I was ten years younger than I was. To some degree, it’s fair to say that while we were out, I felt like I was undercover. We hung out, I ate their food, I even stayed at several of their houses and I became much more familiar with the television stations that supposedly play music videos than I ever had before. First off, the name MTV used to be an acronym for Music Television. I don’t know if that’s officially still what it stands for but it should refer to Mature TV, as it plays almost no music and shows way too much skin. Secondly (here comes the generalization), the MTV culture that I had a chance to meet, whether they be punks, hippies, gangstas, Britneys, metalheads, or goths, pretty much all hate Microsoft and everything Microsoft stands for. They use terms like “corporate giant”, “evil empire”, and “the borg” as well as spin-offs of the name such as “Microsuck”, etc. I have at times, had my share of distaste for Microsoft and some of their products and services so I’m not completely without some compassion for their causes. Microsoft does tend to make it awfully difficult for ingenuity to develop a better mousetrap. And the current teenage generation of MTV watchers also sport their iPods in every color, shape and size as well as their $200 worth of iPod accessories.

Urge claims it is not an attempt to sway users from the Apple iTunes product, sighting a high majority of iTunes users being tied to the product due to their iPods. Coincidentally iTunes accounts for over 80% of the licensed music purchased online and iPods represent roughly 75% of the portable music market currently. MTV’s Urge is supposedly an attempt to tap the avid music downloader that does not own an iPod market. Microsoft of course has plans to bundle this service within its own Windows Media Player product. They’re banking on the fact that it is simply iPod owners that drive iTunes sales and hope that the market for avid licensed music downloaders that don’t have a portable player of some sort is a larger one.

My take? I think this is one time that Microsoft is most definitely getting in the game with too little too late. Furthermore, Apple is one company that’s big enough, bad enough, and hates Microsoft enough to never, ever sell the market leading product to them (for those unfamiliar with their tactics, too frequently Microsoft’s tactic is to simply buy good software and put their name on it, and then proceed to ruin it in the next version release). The pop culture mecca and the business savvy geekdom have both got their work cut out for them. As for me, here’s one user that loves his iTunes, and is listening to his iPod as he types up his blog about why he thinks MTV and Microsoft’s odd coupling is simply comical on several levels.

Pity da Foo

2005-12-12T10:25:00.000-08:00

Well, I was recently contacted by an old friend via email that I haven’t spoken to for some time. And he opened my eyes to something insurmountably entertaining I had been completely unaware of. In his words:

“In case you've been jibba-jabberin' too much to learn the greatness of 'Mr T vs Everything': http://www.mrtvseverything.com/”

I can’t tell you the mixed emotions that flooded my mind the moment I found out there was a website dedicated to multiple hypothetical scenarios of Mr. T taking on “everything”, but that’s when I learned, it’s not just one site. Apparently “Mr. T versus” is taking the Internet by storm. Even Wikipedia has updated it’s databanks on Mr. T to include the cyberspace phenomenon. Of all the lame stuff to hit the Internet…finally something with substance and healthy cultural and entertainment value! Go ahead, Google-you-this (over 34,000 hits).

In these web-based comic-bookesque sites, Mr. T takes on rock bands, actors, politicians, cartoon characters, game show hosts, terrorist factions, Santa Claus, Star Wars characters, and referencing photos and dialog from A-Team to Rocky III to TBN. Hours worth of free entertainment. There’s even a guide to putting together Mr. T versus web pages. So go ahead, put those TPS reports aside and waste away your workday watching amateurish collections of photoshopped Mr. T skits.

I know I will.

And yes, as a matter of fact, I am working on Mr. T vs. Ronald McDonald.

UPDATE: Coming to a theater near you from the studio frequently with one foot in bankruptcy court and the other in the recycle bins of Dreamworks and Warner Bros., MGM, is yet another sequel to the Rocky saga. Mr. T will be in the 2007 release of "Rocky VI" as his previous character "Clubber Lang". But 'Clubber' is a commentator now 15 years after the release of Rocky III. Rocky VI is rumored to have several working titles including "The Legend of Curly's Gold", and "Grumpy Old Boxers". Sylvester Stalone turns 60 while the film is in pre-production.

It's a Boy!

2005-12-08T12:39:00.000-08:00

...of course we knew it was a boy for months, but that's the stereotypical...er...I mean "traditional" headline you're supposed to put up for baby announcement blogs, right? And in step with the stereotypical new baby antics, here's the details and some eye candy:

Weight: 6 lbs, 4 oz. (small but fierce)
Length: 18 and 1/2 inches
Name: Zack
Attire: Zack is sporting a very simple but elegant hat piece from the masterminds at Osh Kosh in the "blue Christmas" fashion line, a favorite this year. The blanket is a medical center special, and the red onesey is a new look for this year for those newborns with autumn coloring. And of course the standard issue cloth diaper is a timeless classic that never really goes out of style.

Fear & Humor

2005-12-01T23:11:00.000-08:00

Sorry guys no pictures tonight. I don't have the energy (and yes the camera came, and yes it's great, and yes the manual is in English!).

warning: this one definitely qualifies as "incoherant" and "rambling".

I’ve already been to bed once tonight. While I was laying there a realization struck me and is now keeping me up in disgust until I can get it out and “on paper” as they say. My wife’s in the beginning stages of labor tonight (still). It’s a slow process and there’s a lot of downtime. We went to the hospital today and after a half-hour check, they sent us home with notification that the baby’s not ready yet. Some would look at this scenario with various glass-half-full or rose-colored-glasses thinking. But I don’t deal very well with disappointment. And that got me thinking, as I laid there in bed, that I let the fear of disappointment keep me from doing some things and this…well, this is one thing that I can’t escape from it or avoid it. I have to face it, buck up, and put my smile back on. For my wife, if for no one else or no other reason. I suck at that. Sure, faking it is probably a good thing to suck at, but I’m referring to the genuine attitude of getting back on the proverbial horse and trying it again.

And then it hit me, it’s not just disappointment I’m afraid of as my eyes pierced the cold black darkness from the lonely bed. I’m afraid of a lot of things. I’m afraid of broad, generic concepts like disappointment, failure, rejection and I’m afraid of silly specific things like spiders and ghosts.

Rabbit Trail: Coincidentally when Jesus was resurrected (Mark 16:13) he appeared to them on Easter, and they thought he was a ghost. So he invited them to look closely at his hands, feet and side and to “handle” him. Jesus even had to ask for food and eat before them (Luke 24:36, John 20:20). Notice that he didn’t dismiss it as childish folklore, instead he went to the effort of proving he was not a ghost. I’m not saying I believe in ghosts…it’s just an observation.

Anyway, where was I. Oh yes fear. I’m pretty much disgusted at this moment how much I allow fear to choke the fun right out of life. Taking risks, even safe ones is difficult for me. I use words like “pragmatic” and “realist” to describe myself. But let’s face it. I’m a negative, pessimistic cynic and I think I’m getting really tired of living that way. I walk around quoting Murphy’s Law as if it were some sort of montra. “Whatever can go wrong…will go wrong” and “if I take the umbrella I won’t need it, but if I don’t, then I will” so I walk around holding proverbial umbrellas everywhere I go because I think, deep down, I actually believe there’s a cosmic balance of bad and good luck and I’ve somehow been elected as the bit-bucket-like dumping grounds for all the bad luck remainders abandoned after the even divisions have been divvied out. Pretty twisted, right?

Take my view of heaven. Now, there’s what I know to be true because it’s in the Bible and then there’s all the other stuff where I have to fill in the blanks. Admittedly if my knowledge of the Bible was greater, or even what it should be I’d have fewer blanks to fill. And I’m working on that. Emotionally, I react to heavenly concepts as if heaven were an enormous business. But bigger. Like if you took every piece of the United States federal government and put them all on one large Disneyland-esque campus. And that would make God something like the President…or Mickey Mouse depending on how you look at it. And Jesus some sort of a Vice Mickey. Bordering on blaspheme here I think, but it’s late so hopefully God’s getting some sort of humorous kick out of my absurdity and has put his smiting rod back in the gun safe. Anyway, if my view of heaven is screwed up to the degree that I think of it as a very large corporation or a government entity, then you can imagine how my fears of the way it is run are. Sure God is perfect, omnipresent, omnipotent, etc, etc. But what about his middle managers? His secretary? And his angelic case workers? They’re not, right? And whose client am I? The slightly narcoleptic junior apprentice case worker with a light gambling addiction? What if my salvation paperwork was put in the wrong pile? What if my file’s missing completely or has a coffee ring stain on the triplicate carbon copies that go to St. Peter? What if the clerical assistant for my particular division of souls is run by an angel like Roz on Monsters, Inc? What if the I.T. angel that maintains the databases in heaven had a bad day and there was some kind of accidental linkage problem in the SQL relations and my metadata was crossed with…I don’t know…Ted Bundy’s or something?!

Of course these are all ridiculous notions. I know they’re flawed and full of stupid inaccuracies, but that’s the kind of stuff you think about as you’re laying in bed wondering how much sleep you’re going to get before your wife’s water breaks all over you.

And if it doesn’t…do I still have to go to work tomorrow?

Consumer Alert: My Digital Camera Purchase Experience

2005-11-29T14:56:00.000-08:00

My wife started having contractions on Tuesday, November 22nd. She’s not due until December 14th but it was a good reminder that we need to start preparing for the big day. Bags need to be pre-packed, directions to babysitters, phone numbers, and pre-registration paperwork all need to be figured out, completed and ready to go at a moment’s notice. Since then the contractions have increased, gotten stronger, closer together and become much more frequent. Anyway, that night, we decided it was time to upgrade the memory card in our digital camera. All we have right now is a working 16MB smartmedia card for our Fuji Finepix 6800. It was a great camera when it came out four years ago: three or four megapixels, optical and digital zoom, macro and movie modes, LCD view finder, etc. And the chassis was designed, in part, by some engineers at Porsche too, which I found to be a neat novelty and I’m sure I paid extra for. But apparently, according to several stores we visited and the rather snooty 19 year old sales clerks usually behind the counter at the massive home electronics conglomerates, smartmedia memory is pretty much on its last leg and as such inventories are very low and what is in stock is usually quite expensive. I was mildly discouraged that I’d chosen a camera that, after only 4 years, the memory required to run it had pretty much gone the way of the buffalo. I was even more agitated at the fact that I was pretty sure my best move was to purchase a new camera. The guy at Best Buys tried to get me to walk out with one that night. CompUSA tried even harder. Coincidentally, this is a random side note, I’m pretty sure I’ll never shop at CompUSA again if I can help it. Just about every piece of merchandise I saw there only displayed a price tag of what the will cost after 2 or 3 rebates, one of which inevitably involved a one-year subscription to AOL. But that’s neither here nor there.

So I decided I wasn’t going to invest hundreds of dollars into something without doing some research first. I spent most of that evening looking up information on brands, features, etc. I found a very helpful site called Digital Camera HQ. They were most helpful in deciphering what I wanted in a camera, the advantages and disadvantages of the different options, etc. I decided I wanted a good, reliable name brand. Preferably Canon if I could afford it. And I decided I did not need 7 or 8 megapixels. My wife and I figured we could get by on 4, but 5 would give us some room for cropping if necessary. And we decided rather than a large footprint that requires its own carrying case and is awkward to carry around, we wanted a small, compact “point-and-shoot” camera that would fit in a purse, front seat console, or even a large coat pocket. We figure we’re more apt to catch those precious moments if bringing the camera along isn’t a burden. After a long series of evaluations and a detailed matrix of camera needs and features, I decided on the Canon PowerShot SD450.

Pretty happy with my choice and encouraged by a plethora of positive user reviews, I went about finding one. I was hoping to find it for under $300, as Froogle searches were showing that my camera could be had for as little as $250. But after looking up all the local stores that carry them, I found that $350 was the going price for nearly every one of them. Wal-Mart was the cheapest at $320 and my local Wal-Marts didn’t have any in their inventories in stock. Charity and I wanted to get it as soon as possible because the contractions weren’t slowing down and we could go into labor any time and to do so without a camera…well that’s apparently just unacceptable. So she suggested that if it’s so much cheaper through some online vendors, why don’t we see if purchasing it through them and having it shipped “next day air” was cheaper total than $350. So I went back to Froogle…where I discovered a new company to put on my NEVER EVER USE THESE COMPANIES AGAIN list.

Best Price Cameras seemingly offered the lowest price on the camera that I wanted, as you can see from the picture. I attempted to make the purchase on Wednesday night. Attempted being the key word. And attempted, and attempted and attempted. I was a little surprised that a company whose only source of sales was through their website would have such a flakey online ordering process. Broken links at every click. Every time I tried to submit information for the order the session failed, and I’d have to reestablish my secure connection, re-fill in all my information, credit card numbers, etc. This happened at least 5 times before it finally went through (and no, it was not my Internet connection failing because between each failure on the site I would check it against other sites just to ensure my connectivity was not the culprit). It did eventually go through, but I was quite concerned by then that my card might be charged multiple times, so I sent an email to their handy-dandy customer service email address just to verify the order was processed, and only one time. Three hours later I received confirmation of my order and it became clear to me at that time that only the one order that made it through was in fact processed. Shipping it next day air cost about $36, which is what I expected, however I was disappointed to see that adding a 3 ounce 128MB SD memory card would bump the shipping up to over $70, so I decided to forego the memory card (I found one on eBay for $7 plus $9 to ship it, brand new still in its box). Two days later I received an email from Best Price Cameras in response to my initial inquiry about the order processing problems. All it said was please call the customer service 1-800 hotline. Struck me as odd that they’d have a customer service email process set up if all it did was reply back for customers to call the service hotline. Confident that only one order was submitted and processed, I decided against calling them for further verification.

Later that day (Friday) I received yet another email from somebody at Best Price Cameras. A sales rep. The email came at 2:19pm and it stated that before my order could be completed and shipped that the gentleman needed to “confirm my telephone number” and I needed to call him directly and do so before 3pm my time, which gave me a 40 minute window to call him or the order couldn’t be processed until the next business day. I of course didn’t get off from work until 3:30pm that day. So I was needless to say, very disappointed by that incident.

I called them first thing on Sunday morning (apparently Saturday’s not a business day but Sunday is at Best Price Cameras) and the message still stated I should call back during business hours a full half-hour after their own message said they’d be open. I did eventually get a hold of the guy that wanted to “confirm” my telephone number. Which I thought might be a problem since I did it from my cell phone while I was on the road for work purposes and it wasn’t the number I put on the order. But it turned out to be a non-issue. The guy never asked for my telephone number at all. What he did ask me, in the same “I hate my job” tone that I got at Best Buys, is what kind of battery and battery charger I would like my camera shipped with as well as what kind of warranty (if any) I’d like. Now I was a little surprised by this line of questioning because the website says right on the SD450 page, “Everything we sell is brand new and factory fresh” and the Canon website states what accessories the camera ships with in the box and a battery as well as a charger are included. Best Price Camera’s SD450 page also states “Everything we sell comes with a full US Warranty”. Now, in the version of English that I speak the phraseology, “comes with a warranty” means it’s included in the price. So now I'm getting a little upset that it was not included and that accessories that came in the box according to Canon were costing me extra and asked, in a most reluctant tone, what the price for a battery, charger and warranty was. He quoted me $42 dollars and said it would bump my shipping up too. Yeah, that “next day air” that still hadn’t left the warehouse yet was going up and now…I was looking at paying quite a bit more than $350 for the same camera at a local electronics store and had I gone that route I’d have a camera in my hand and my wife (contractions now every hour) would have one less thing to worry about. So yeah, I let him know I was more than a little ticked off and that's when he decided to be a “nice guy” and cut me a deal, in so much as if I get the 2-hour battery, instead of the 1-hour he’d keep the original shipping price.

Gee thanks.

The camera, at the absolute earliest will be here tomorrow, one full week after I placed the order. The baby’s due any day now. Best Price Cameras, in my opinion epitomizes everything that my mom is scared of about buying merchandise online. It was one of the worst online vendor experience I’ve ever had, and I’ve done a lot of online purchasing throughout the years. But lesson learned: I’ll never just go with the lowest price in a Froogle search again.

California or Bust

2005-11-01T15:41:00.000-08:00

On the Road Again (a brief hiatus)

Well friends, I’m afraid that my band has called upon me for a throw-caution-to-the-wind exhibition around yet another part of the country to play the wandering minstrel part one last time. My band leaves on tour tomorrow afternoon and I will not be returning until November 14th, at which time I hope to write all about it. So until then, al veeter zay.

But I will leave you with one deep introspective thought, as I go. Below are the words of an iconic "Christian" rock star that struck me as very interesting and, in fact, nearly emotional to a degree. I wanted to share them with you. I did not write this. But much of my thoughts about people and music and consumerism is encapsulated here. He said it better than I can write now. I'm not saying I agree with everything he says here. Agree or not though, it's an interesting read and it got me thinking a little. So I wanted to share these nuggets with you all.

"In 1991, when Rolling Stone interviewed Dylan on the occasion of his 50th birthday, he gave a curious response when the interviewer asked him if he was happy. He fell silent for a few moments and stared at his hands. 'You know,' he said, 'these are yuppie words, happiness and unhappiness. It's not happiness or unhappiness, it's either blessed or unblessed.'

This record was written somewhere between the blessed and the unblessed, between the godly and the ungodly by a few young urban professionals from San Diego. These songs are dreams and questions, bleeding together, breathing in and out- always somewhere between life and death. And I feel this tension, this distance now more than ever, like a numbing ache... deep inside. The distance between the way things are and the way they could be, the distance between the shadow and the sun. And this is where we exist: within the paradox. Living out our lives: oxygen and carbon and hydrogen and so on...

This record was the attempt to make something beautiful in filthy backstage dressing rooms everywhere, trying to sing something true with a broken heart. This record was written about things that I don't understand. And yes, there's more than a wink of irony in all of this: making music from our most intimate thoughts and selling these songs online for a dollar a pop. Singing an anthem every night about how "we were meant to live for so much more" and many times feeling like a failure; singing "I dare you to move"and feeling trapped. Both loving and hating all the fuss that the music has brought. Knowing that even Rock and Roll, perhaps the best job in the world will not make me happy (in the yuppie sense of the word). And yes, this American life is absurd! a strange paradox indeed... Perhaps no amount of money, sex, or power has ever satisfied us before, but maybe today will be different! Maybe this new purchase will make me happy! And the sun rises and sets once more- another day, another dollar. A carbonated beverage will help to chase your insecurities away. This new product will help to fill the meaningless void I feel inside. And so I drink the beverage, wear the clothes, and watch the war on TV.

meaningless.

meaning less.

Do we hunt our ridiculous suburban dreams like the neighborhood cat? Have we quietly fallen in line with the advertisement? Are we driven by ego uncontrolled, our lives simply vain pursuits of meaningless ends? Do we attempt to validate our existence by materiel means, relational acquisitions, sexual conquests, fiscal achievement, and cultural prowess? It was another jewish man who said something like this a while back. "All is meaningless," Declares the teacher. "Meaningless, meaningless, Everything is meaningless" For me, there is a terrible, wonderful freedom in coming to terms with these un-happy, un-yuppie words. It's a strange consolation in our dizzy and breathless race for happiness to find that you will never outrun the horizon. It's an avalanche you can't escape. It's a fatal wound that you cannot heal. If you fall on this rock you will be broken, if it falls on you you will be crushed. You see, this album started with a blow between the eyes that I am still recovering from, that's really all I've got to offer these days. So in the half-light glow of radio shows, music videos, and greedy billboard charts I am aware of a darkness that is beyond me, I am coming to terms with my unbelief. No, I don't believe in rock and roll. No, I don't believe in the success that we've achieved. And no, I don't believe in me. In a free market world of the bought and sold I feel caught in between. I believe I've heard about a man who was exploited to sell everything from indulgences to the wars of men. And yet he offered only one bitter pill that was not easily marketed. Maybe that's what this record hopes to be: a simple bitter pill of truth that steps outside of our hamster wheel and looks up at the stars and beyond.

Maybe Dylan was right when he said Rock and Roll isn't Rock and Roll anymore. I've met so many lonely, desperate, beautiful people over the past few years. Yeah, I've got a bitter pill to swallow, but it just might be true. Maybe our lives drift quietly by and we can't stop the current. Maybe this modern river leads to the sea of death, where no medicine can cure these ills. Perhaps our restless wanting is satisfied only outside of ourselves. It was another jewish man who said something like this, "If you seek to gain your soul you will lose it." I am on a journey that will one day come to final terms with these words."

-Jon Foreman, Switchfoot

For those California and South Oregon readers interested, there's a Calendar avaiable here of where my band and I are playing and when. Come join me on my final voyage through rock and roll mediocrity.

A Farewell to Remember

2005-11-01T11:46:00.000-08:00

nos·tal·gia (no-stalj,uh)
n.
1. A bittersweet longing for things, persons, or situations of the past.

It was a night like so many nights in Vancouver, WA. Wet and dreary for the most part. I quickly swallowed a small piece of my wife’s home made lasagna without chewing as the white truck pulled into the driveway. I had been ready for hours.
80’s faded jeans with holes in the knees…check.
Yankees fanfare hat worn backwards…check.
Warm black hooded sweatshirt, great for standing in outdoor lines…check.
Camera. Check. Piece of butt rock propaganda for an autograph…check.

I stood in front of the mirror practicing my fist pumps. I was playing the Jekyll & Hyde album in the car on the way home from work, practicing my Agnus Young impression on the choruses of the title track. I owed Petra that much. Every Petra fan I think I’ve ever met has a great story about how a Petra concert changed their lives. Mine is like a hundred others, but it’s mine and it literally was a life-changing experience on July 23rd 1992. That was my first exposure to them, and the lingering thought that this would be my last, loomed over my head like the dark rain clouds over my house. There was no denying it, this concert was bittersweet. I piled in the back and we cracked a few jokes amongst ourselves about what the median age of the average concert attendee would be. And some solemn statements about how Petra’s authenticity and simplicity within the lyrics of their songs will be sorely missed. Bands don’t write like that anymore. They rarely come out and make statements like “Dance with the one that brung ya. Don’t change hats, you know it’s the one you wear.” There was never an ounce of vagueness or ambiguity in Petra’s lyrics. Anyway, on to the concert.

Two bands opened for Petra. Farewell June and Bread of Stone. Bread of Stone was a 3-piece…sort of. Bread of Stone had three acoustic guitar players, borrowed a keyboard player from Farewell June, a bass player from Farewell June, and the drummer that was playing with Petra to perform their show. They are from the Iowa and, apparently, got the opening slot as a bit of a fluke. Here’s a testament to how real Petra is, people. As their coming into this tour, Petra still did not have a mode of transportation. They needed a van. Now, it may sound insane to you and people not in “the know” often fight with me on this topic, but believe it or not, opening bands actually pay to open for a big headliner like Petra. It’s not unusual, it’s the norm. Audio Adrenaline charges over $2,000 a night to open for them. Anyway, Petra didn’t have a van, so they got in touch with this band somehow, who had a van, and basically told them if you let us ride with you, you can open for us. And that’s it. That’s like the President saying, ‘give me a ride to the White House and I’ll let you be Secretary of State.” Bread of Stone were not bad. They had some really good harmonizing vocals between the singers on stage. They seemed genuine with their message and had an air of “just happy to be here” on their faces. My understanding is that they are worship leaders and youth pastors.

Farewell June was a very eclectic band from Missouri. Their opening couple of songs felt like little more than an extension of the last band, but they slowly blossomed into a truly great show. Masterful craftsmanship and skillful playing of violin, guitar, and bass and drums complimented the beautiful harmonies. There was a token tambourine girl on stage that did little and whose mic was so low in the mix she couldn’t be heard. Dan and I speculated about which band member she must be married to. I was in a band that had member whose wife insisted she be allowed to play tambourine and stand on stage to look pretty. She eventually instigated a vote to kick out the band leader at that time. Thank you Ono. Anyway, Farewell June was good stuff. A little blues, a little country, some rock and roll, with a great raspy voice at the lead vocals and a smooth creamy timbre of a vocal on the keyboard. Solos were had by all and it was a most impressive stage show as they ran around impressing the front row. Two thumbs up for these guys. Definitely a band to watch for in the future.

There was a brief break as they did some stage tear-down. A guy with an Australian accent came out on the stage and laid some pretty heavy guilt trips on the audience to sponsor a child through Food for the Hungry. I’ve thought about how I would describe this segment of the show, but I’ve come to realize that my cynicism of this system goes both ways, so I’m going to leave it alone. But you’ve all seen it before. They tell a few jokes about shiny turds, make you feel bad for the kids, play you a video where the audio doesn’t come through the system, and leave with a prayer.

As he left the stage the lights went down for a few minutes. I decided this was a good time to make for the bathroom. I almost made it out of the sanctuary when the house lights went completely off and the spots turned back on. People started to cheer and then it happened Petra took the stage. Bob on stage left, John center, the bass player stage right and the drummer on a 5’ riser behind them all centered. I suppressed my urges and ran back to my seat, unwilling to miss a single second of this concert for the sake of my bodily functions. “Underneath the Blood” started with the thunderous, immediately recognizable guitar riff. The drums were really hot in the mix, just how I like ‘em. Bob’s guitar tone was magnanimous. Bob played his Jekyll & Hyde guitar, a beautiful Les Paul body style with a black/gray flamed maple top and screachingly hot pickups with trem locks. What a piece of art made by Bob himself. Oh if only I could afford one. Crossroads Church had spared no expense either. Wireless in-ear monitors, wireless UHF mics, top-of-the-line intellibeam lighting system, and the acoustic properties of the room were amazing. I don’t know if there could have been a better venue to see Petra at than this one. Dan, Mike and I sat about half way in the center of the pew for that row, just slightly stage right. But we had a great view and could hear everything crystal clear.

John’s vocals and the booming music overwhelmed me like a flood of nostalgia. Suddenly I was 12 years old again. And I could see it all over the sanctuary. 30, 40, 50 year olds all over were grinning ear to hear remembering when. Even the Greg X. Volz crowd had some appealing moments of songs from the 70’s. The night was truly magical. Sure the music was great, but more than that we were saying goodbye to the iconic Christian rock band of several generations the only way we knew how. They’d put on some pounds, but John had lost some from the pictures I’d seen of him not a year earlier. Bob’s beard now completely grey and the contrast was even more blatant as they played opposite a 20-something shaved-headed bass player and similarly aged drummer banging the snot out of those skins. John gave his usual gyrations of the head turning and the body moving he’s been doing since Beyond Belief. What would seem ridiculous being done by anybody else was a beautiful sight from John Schlitt. Anybody else would just be copying him. Bob performed very little movement from his side of the stage, though in the 4 times I’ve seen Petra live, I seem to remember thinking that’s a bit of a trademark for their live show. Perhaps capitalized on by his age, you’d never guess from his playing he was up in years. Bob’s still got it goin’ on! That guy can flat play and make it look like he’s not even thinking about it. The whole experience was so surreal I could hardly believe my own ears.

Petra did a few things that I don’t remember being part of past shows. Two medleys were played, one rock block and one unplugged acoustic set. They played an amazing version of “For Annie” and a great unplugged rendition of “No Doubt” that I really enjoyed too (and I was never a big No Doubt album fan). Dan & I would’ve preferred a full version of “I Am On the Rock” rather than an abbreviated version within the medley, but placement was good and the transitions were flawless. As one song after another came up entirely different age groups would stand and cheer. Some times an older generation would look to us wondering what we were cheering about equally anxious to hear song was playing, and other times younger generations would do the same. A dozen or so teenage front-row-rowdies were banging their heads to the rock their parents listened to as kids. It must’ve been something to stand on that stage, after 33 years of playing music, and still seeing the under-18 crowd totally getting into the music you wrote decades ago. The jumbotrons on either side of the stage panned the audience infrequently and often provided close-ups of the blazing fingers of Bob Hartman’s guitar work. Pure genius. The aspiration of guitar players all over the country was giving his last performance for me ever. I held back tears after nearly every song from the Beyond Belief-Unseen Power-Wake Up Call era.

John at one point made mention that there were so many songs that so many different people wanted to hear that it was really hard to decide what would comprise their set list. You got the feeling like he really knew there were people depending on them to give them one more live play of their favorite tune. To sing along with the band just one last time. For me, well I had several, but the most obvious one, “Beyond Belief”. Towards the end of the pre-encore set they presented the crowd with a drum solo worthy of Louie Weaver. Paul Simmons had his own style. He wore no batting gloves and sported no Mickey Mouse paraphernalia, but was obviously a very good drummer in his own right. And he played like Louie would have at 25. All night I’d kept an ear out for the clean guitar arpeggiated riff that started Beyond Belief. Bob tripped me up when he started it with the distorted chorus riff. Different from what I expected but still the awesome experience I always hoped hearing it for the last time would be. See, I’d been avoiding Petra concerts since Bob left the band. I pretty much gave up on an opportunity to see Bob play it again live. So it was a bit of a dream come true. I screamed like one of those Beatlemania girls in 1964.

Dan took some notes while I was enthralled. I helped him identify a few songs. Here's the complete set list, thanks to Dan:

1. Underneath the Blood
2. Dance
3. Your Love Came Down
4. Test of Time
5. Creed
6. Judas' Kiss
7. You're in the Right Place
8. Medley:
a. Sight Unseen
b. It is Finished
c. Think Twice
d. I am on the Rock
e. Midnight Oil
f. Mine Field
g. This Means War
h. It is Finished (reprise)
9. Jekyll and Hyde

Acoustic Medley Set:
10. Rose Colored Stained Glass Windows
11. Road to Zion
12. More Power To Ya
13. For Annie
14. No Doubt
15. The Coloring Song
16. Love

Transition:
17. I am a "C"

Solos

18. Beyond Belief
19. Lord, I Lift Your Name on High

Encore:
20. He Came, He Saw, He Conquered
21. We Need Jesus
22. Show Your Power

Bob's Testimony

All-in-all definitely an experience I’ll always cherish. I tried to take several pictures but most of them turned out pretty lousy because where we were seated and the lights. Pictures don’t do it justice anyway. If you’re a Petra fan, or have been a Petra fan at any time, this is a show you don’t want to miss. I may come back and add to this posting throughout the week as I think of things I need to say, for prosperity’s sake before my memory starts to let go of some of the details to make room.

For those interested and for those that missed it, there will be a live CD and DVD set released. Look for the "Farewell" album.

Fear Not Loyal Readership

2005-10-28T14:35:00.000-07:00

I've not forgotten about either of you poor soul's dying for the next edition of Bazooka-Joe's Ramblings. I'm simply swamped with work and band stuff of late. But I do promise, oh-so-faithfully that a new, legitimate post is coming (this one doesn't count).

Dano, Fish-Tacos, and I are going to the Petra Farewell Concert tonight. Should be a hoot! It's been years since I've seen them live. I'll try to remember to bring my camera and if they allow it, take some decent photographs. Either way, expect a half-way decent write-up after (maybe Monday?).

Gooberdillas On The House

2005-10-17T14:05:00.000-07:00

Traveling around the country like a rock star…before you’re actually a rock star, comes with its share of quirks and expenses. One of the challenges my band and I faced was streamlining our food costs. As every good bachelor knows it’s the food line item in the monthly budget that gets sacrificed to pay for the next great toy. It’s the same way with a band. “So how are we going to get home now?” In Denver, CO we needed a few spark plugs replaced. We went to the cheapest mechanic we could find that (almost) spoke English. But apparently, after replacing them he laid the plug wires across the exhaust manifold and we made it all the way to St. Louis before the completely melted. Money for a new vehicle inevitably comes out of nutritional expenses. So we learned to get by on less and come up with ingenious ways of keeping our taste buds from rotting out of boredom. But a traveling band has some additional concerns. The food must:

A. Be cheap.
B. Be easy to prepare from the backseat of a van pulling a trailer on a curvy dirt road at 65mph.
C. Meet the allergenic requirements of all partakers.
D. NOT be taxing on the gastro-intestinal tract.
E. Be cheap.
F. Not be difficult to eat with one hand on the wheel.
G. Have a cute name that’s fun to say over and over and over again.
H. Preferably something that will not go bad after being left for weeks in a hot van.
I. Be cheap. (Get it? I. Be Cheap? Get it?...nevermind.)

This week’s affordable flavor extravaganza….is the “Gooberdilla”. The Gooberdilla is beautiful in its awe-inspiring simplicity. Here’s how meals in a van somewhere on I-70 after a week of touring works:

Me (driving): “Hey it’s like 2am…shouldn’t we eat some lunch?”
Drummer: “Tina, you fat lard, come get some ham.” [w/Napoleon Dynamite voice]
Keyboardist: “Today I’m having a giant pile of salt!” [w/King of Town voice]
Singer: “Dang it Napoleon, Make yerself a danged gooberdilla.”
Bassist: “That is what I have been saying.” [w/Inspector Clouseau voice]

After about day 3 in the van, nobody uses their real voices anymore, we all just look for ways to interject our favorite quotes from movies or other pop culture influences. Talking like this for days on end, usually leads to a Pavlov-like detoxification process when we get home to our wives (it involves slapping upside the head whenever one’s voice reverts back to that of a comical character of one of the aforementioned forms of media).

After about another twenty minutes of Napoleon, Strongbad, Pink Panther, Office Space, and Tommy Boy quotes, we finally get down to actually talking about eating.

Drummer (backseat): “Well, let’s see. We have Gooberdilla fixings and…more Gooberdilla fixings. It’s all that’s left. Inspector Clouseau ate all the jalapeño jerky and cheese & cracker packs. There’s a clump of M&M’s that melted and stuck together and some leftover jo-jo’s from Kansas City.”

What you’ll need to follow along at home is one (1) jar of Smuckers brand Goober (peanut butter and jelly in the same jar - $0.99 at your local grocer), a pack of flour tortillas and a utensil to distribute the goober. If you’ve ever tried to ‘spread’ Goober, then you know it’s a little less frustrating than Arrow’s Impossibility Paradox. It basically just clumps in certain spots. Don’t try to spread it, you’ll only hurt yourself. Get enough clumps on your quesadilla to have decent coverage, roll it up like a burrito and pass it to the front of the van (each person takes a bite on its way to the driver usually).

Goober, we’ve come to find out, can survive being left in a hot car for multiple summer days with the lid only partially screwed on. Chip off the top layer of crusties and you have a perfectly edible substance again. I’m pretty sure in the event of nuclear holocaust that cockroaches and Goober are going to be the only left on the planet. A good side effect is that Goober tends to stop most people up pretty good if you eat it two meals a day for a week. Sure it leaves you in stomach cramps but it also means the driver doesn’t have to stop every day for a bathroom break either.

Gooberdillas also work when camping. Although, when camping, I highly recommend the alternate route when it comes to food (find yourself a good woman that can and loves to cook even on a camp stove, marry her and buy her lots of cook books for the avid camper). But for you bachelors and the camping inept check out Dan’s blog for some more great camping tips.

One For the Books

2005-10-13T15:39:00.000-07:00

STRONGBAD HAS OUT-DONE HIMSELF!!

His modern-day metaphorical commentary about noise-makers, their rise to stardom, how they sell-out, how they are idolized, how they fade into obscurity and are then copied for generations is a pure work of art.

I’m not even going to say anything else about it. Just click the link above, turn up your speakers, and enjoy. Three cheers for Strongbad, the satirical hero of American consumers and pop-culture has-beens.

Humorous Headlines - A Tribute to Stupidity

2005-10-12T13:57:00.000-07:00

Actual Headlines From the Associated Press and Reuters

Another Downside to Aging
A military court in Sierra Leone convicted Warrant Officer Amara Conteh for collaboration with the rebels during attacks against government troops. Three other soldiers were sentenced to terms of 16–22 years, but the civilian judge sentenced Conteh to hang for the crime. He is 77 years old. (Reuters)
...Seeing as how you're not likely to live another 16 years, here's what we're gonna do....

A Dozen Kooks
The Appeal Court in Great Britain has been asked to review a murder conviction on the basis that the jury reached its verdict after a séance — which would mean they did not reach their verdict solely based on evidence presented in court, as required. It seems three of the jurors used a Ouija Board to contact the murder victim, who pointed his phantom finger at Stephen Young, 35, as the culprit. The 12-person jury went on to convict Young unanimously. (Reuters)
...OK, after two "smoke breaks", one "lunch", and seven "Hulk Hogan" responses, we finally got the Ouija Board to give us a "gilltee" verdict.

So Hot, They're Cool
Christopher Lyons, a drug dealer serving time in prison, filed a $310,000 lawsuit against the Kellogg Co., claiming that a "defective" Pop Tart injured his mouth and caused him nightmares, which lead to 72 hours of sleep deprivation. U.S. District Judge Benjamin Gibson dismissed the suit, saying there was no proof of suffering worth at least $50,000, the minimum for a federal lawsuit — partly, the judge noted, because Lyons had lost no wages and incurred no medical expenses. (AP)
...Pain and suffering from a breakfast pastry...I've seen it all now.

Mr. Smith Goes to Prison
Claude A. Smith, 60, a black man housed in an Ohio prison, was in need of prostate surgery. Claude E. Smith III, 43, a white man who until recently was housed in another Ohio prison, is suing the state of Ohio for $3 million, claiming his prostate was removed in error when they sent for the wrong Claude Smith. He charges the operation left him impotent and without bladder control. (AP)
...If it were me, and I was going in for an ear ache, I'd have started questioning when I had to remove my orange jumpsuit and the anesthesiologist asks me to count to ten backwards...but that's just me.

"English Roulette"
In lieu of wedding gifts, a couple in London, England, is asking that guests instead place bets with a bookmaker in their name. If the bet pays, the couple will collect the winnings. "If not, we will still have a lot of fun," the groom said. (Reuters)
...Talk about safe bets. Put me down for $10 that their marriage won't last a year.

Is it Time for Second Breakfast Yet?
Five hundred reserves from the Irish army were sent to the hospital when, apparently caught up in the heat of battle, they got a little carried away and suffered cuts, bruises, sunstroke and dehydration. But it wasn’t a war: they were performing as extras in Mel Gibson’s latest film, Braveheart, being shot in England. "The Irish Reserve Army don’t see much real action, so this could be the only chance they’ll ever have," a military spokesman explained. (Reuters)
...Don't you just love the smell of bourbon in the morning?

The Lazy Liar
In June, Richard Nieves, 21, called Aurora, Ill., police and reported that he had witnessed a child’s kidnaping. "People say you can speak with your eyes, and hers seemed to be saying, ‘Help me. Get me out of here. Do something for me’," Nieves said at the time. A massive police hunt turned up nothing, and after flunking a lie detector test, Nieves admitted making the story up. He was sentenced last week to two years’ probation and 500 hours of community service. Why did he do it? He needed an excuse for taking a day off work as a machine operator. (AP)
...Boss isn't buying the "Black Plague" anymore, eh?

Drive-by Flinging
An animal protection group in Jerusalem, Israel, says in the last three months there have been 43 reported cases of people throwing cats out of cars, apparently in an attempt to abandon them to the streets. While most were tossed from cars "at low speed," at least one ended up hitting the windshield of another vehicle. The cat survived. (Reuters)
...And 43 children were told their kitties were driven to a special Israeli farm just for cats to run and play.

Please Sir, May I Have S'more?
Mark Holmes admits he kidnaped a 10-year-old girl from a London-area vicarage and subjected her to a night of "indecent assault". Upon being sentenced to nine years in prison, he complained to the judge that the sentence was too lenient. "What sort of a sentence is that? I have ruined a girl’s life and you give me nine years? I am a beast, an animal," he said. (Reuters)
...Haven't you ever seen Shawshank Redemption? I’m sure your new roommate can help tip the scales in justice's favor.

The Death of a Dork
A gunman apparently hired to kill a woman shot at her several times in Edwards, Colo., but missed. So he tried hitting her with rocks. He was so inept that he was still at it when police arrived, and so nervous that when confronted by the responding officer, he had a heart attack and died on the spot. The woman survived, and recognized the gunman as a longtime friend of her ex-husband. (AP)
...On the divorce papers she put down "His stupid friends are always making a mess of my house."

Say Wha?!
A committee established by Parliament to suggest how to make Britain more "family friendly" suggested that Britain participate in a European Union policy of guaranteeing new fathers three months of unpaid paternity leave. "Helping men to be involved with their children is one way of providing a positive sense of identity," the committee report said. On the other hand, a report released by a university researcher five days earlier showed that unemployed British men would prefer to wander the streets than stay home and take care of their children. (Reuters)
..."Thanks much, but can you just send me a check instead?"

PSA: Germans Make the Earth Move

2005-10-11T16:18:00.000-07:00

Please feel free to click on the pictures to get the full effect.

Working at the US department of Energy means from time-to-time, I come across some really interesting emails from co-workers involved in certain projects or that have friends in the industry working on equally interesting stuff. I was contemplating how upset I get when I lose my car keys on a weekly basis as I read through an email with 5 or 6 FWD: in the subject line. Sometimes when things get lost, they turn up in the most unexpected of places. But before we get into the lost bulldozer, I need to tell you about the world’s largest earth mover. Krupp, a German company, apparently saw a market for an “Ultimate Earth Mover”.

Yes, you are looking at an actual, un-doctored photograph of a machine that really does exist. The Ultimate Earth Mover stands at 311 ft. tall and 705 ft. long.

The UEM weighs in at a stunning 45,500 tons and costs over $100,000,000 to construct. It took 5 years to design and manufacture and another 5 years to assemble. It requires a minimum of 5 people to operate it.

The “bucket wheel” is over 70 feet in diameter with 20 buckets, each of which can hold over 530 cubic feet of stuff. A 6ft. man can stand up inside of one of the buckets.

It moves on 12 crawlers (8 in the front, 4 in the back). Each crawler is 12 feet wide, 8 feet tall, and 46 feet long. It has a maximum speed of 1 mile in 3 hours and it can remove 76,455 cubic meters of dirt a day. That’s the equivalent of 100,000 large dump trucks at 40 yards each.

Hah! So where did this “missing dozer” go? Well, you’ve probably guessed by now the Ultimate Earth Mover picked it up like it was clump of dirt.

And that concludes this public service announcement about the dangers of leaving bulldozers unattended around German Ultimate Earth Movers. Can’t you just see the goofy smile on the foreman’s face as he holds up the package of Mentos.

My Toddler Can Beat Up Your Toddler

2005-10-06T11:23:00.000-07:00

We had a very interesting talking point last night at my Young Married “small group” meeting. I slumped in my chair most of the evening. Not because of the discussion, but due to some poor decision making regarding lima beans for dinner. I was pinching them off left and right. No worries, they were all “silent but deadly”. Every 20 minutes or so I’d pretend to smell something and look around the room with a face that seemed to say “That’s just gross. Who would do such a vile thing in a church?” That aside, the discussion was one I’ve been thinking about for about a week now.

Disciplining kids is a topic that a lot of people have a lot of different philosophies about. Take a look at any book-of-the-month club. There’s almost always a token representative from the child-pop-psychology section. So having sat idly by while Dano, Pec, C-Train, Daniel, and others take their stab an actually serious topic, I thought I’d throw my hat into the ring of controversy and see what kind of mischief I stir up.

There’s a new type of parenting out there, that we have postmodernism, existentialism, and logical positivism, (among other ism’s) to thank. I like to call it the White Rabbit approach to parenting. I call it that because the war cry of these parents is so commonly, “Hurry, hurry, no time, no time at all!” It gives birth to a temporal equivalent to the manic-materialistic concept of “keeping up with the Joneses”. Parents caught up with this philosophy subscribe to all those periodicals you see hanging in the check-out aisles. They believe they must fill every hour of every season of their children’s lives with an organized, extra-curricular personal growth experience. The after-school and weekend schedule of these kids is filled every night of the week with soccer practices, oboe lessons, karate classes, AWANA, girl scouts, tee ball, water color painting, and more. We’re talking kids as young as four years old. Take a look at that brief list you just read. There’s nothing wrong with any of those activities. What’s wrong is that this generation of parents has cultivated a need to stroke their own egos based on their children’s “well-roundedness”. Even within the church you see the faces of parents as they hear what their friends’ kids are doing, accomplishing, a part of and they ask themselves, “should my toddler be learning Spanish too?” They believe cramming as many activities as possible into their child’s lives is what is best for them. Not to mention it relieves the parents of actually having to interact with the kids and become responsible for their upbringing; and instead, handing that instinctive roll off to the coaches, teachers, and youth leaders.

And industry, never one to miss a beat, has found a way to capitalize on this lifestyle. The most recent KFC commercial (and don’t get me wrong, I love my Colonel’s chicken) shows mom with her kids standing around a calendar. Tommy’s guitar lesson is on the calendar in green, Marcy’s soccer practice on the calendar in red, and Suzie’s swim class on the calendar in yellow. One of the kids pipes up and asks, “what about dinner?” Granted, that’s only one activity per kid, so the parallel isn’t as accurate…but you see my point. The marketing team at KFC knows that the family schedule in many households looks very similar and it’s more than just one activity per child. What about dinner indeed? And what about homework? And what about parents actually parenting one night a week? Movies & TV portray the “ideal child” bombarded with activity after activity and, because of all the ‘positive stimulation’ growing up confident, reliable, successful adult (and don’t even get me started on ridiculously heavy emphasis placed on “confidence” by society)…that doesn’t know the first thing about being part of a family, can’t talk to his parents, and don’t know how to prioritize.

There’s a new breed of soccer moms out there. And their on a mission…to be able to impress their friends that are parents with how busy their child is, to drive the wheels right off their mini-vans in a constant shuffle from one extra-curricular to another…and perhaps most importantly to leave the disciplining, instilling of ethics, and personal connection with their children to the “professionals”.

Music Review: Switchfoot's "Nothing is Sound"

2005-10-04T15:00:00.000-07:00

Let’s go straight to the best stuff, shall we?

High Point: "We Are One Tonight" is my favorite song. It's a great tune from start to finish, perfect dynamic, beautiful hook, and lovely melody, catchy as all get out. Great use of guitars, acoustic and electric alike. Jon's vocals are ideal for a song like this. It starts a little slow, but gives you a sensation of building up to the chorus, which is the shining star on the album for me. Verse 2's rhythmic snare banging strikes a chord of brief annoyance, but is quickly broken up in the pre-chorus channel. I could listen to that chorus over and over again though. The absolute BEST part of the album so far though is the ending chorus. He comes down with toms in verse 3 and then down even further with very simple percussion (drum machine?) and acoustic guitar and THEN he repeats "We are one..." three times and when he finally says "tonight" on the third time the song totally opens up. For some reason that moment reminds me a little bit of Chemical Romance’s “Helena”, but that’s neither here nor there. Heavenly vocal BGV rounds screaming out that catchy chorus, and as it fades out John is saying something that I can't quite decipher yet, but I like the feel of the fade out (and I hate fade outs so that's saying something).
I give it a "superb" rating.

"Easier Than Love" is my second favorite song so far I think. I love the playfulness in the verse, offsetting the serious nature of the lyrics. The chorus is full of great, catchy melody, etc. The vamp between the 2nd chorus and the bridge is a little disconnecting. The bridge borders on monotonous, but in the end it proves itself worth listening to as it transitions to the big open instrumenation version of the chorus. The acapella break in that chorus is a nice touch too but the "la-a-a-a" things he does at the end are a little cheesy.
Rating: "Pretty darn good."

Low Point: So I have a lot of emotional philosophies about what makes a good song, and recently I've been able to quantify one of those into words. It's come to my attention that when I'm processing whether or not I like a song for the first time that a good melody is not ALL it takes to make a good song. However, a bad melody is ALL it takes to make a bad song. A melody can be interpreted in my brain as "bad" for a multitude of reasons. The timbre and quality of the singer’s voice can cause that particular opinion. A complete lack of hook will definitely cause it. If there's nothing catchy about a song, well, that's pretty much a killer for me. And fluidity can impact it. If it doesn't flow right, or flows in such a way that annoys, distracts, or makes it difficult for me to sing along, that will impact my thinking too. Now some of you are going to hate me for this, but I think the lowest point on the album I believe is "Lonely Nation". There's almost nothing about this song's music I like. The verses don't go anywhere. And choruses do nothing for me. The thematic, discombobulated, schizophrenic changes in arrangement are too frequent and too close together for my taste and John's "Oh's" after the choruses are annoying to me. So is his screaming. I like the lyrics a lot. I want it to open up or break down, and it does break down a little bit in the bridge, but there's nothing at all interesting about the bridge. It's repetitive, the arrangement is scarce (and not in a good way). It's filled with ambient weird stuff. Then it returns to the break-neck jerky chorus. The outro actually seems to drop in intensity right before it ends, which doesn't feel appropriate. The effect-saturated ending is unique and I give it points for style, but overall, unless it grows on me over time (which has happened with Switchfoot songs in the past) I doubt it's one I'll really attach myself to.
I give it a "disappointing" rating.

"Daisy" is very artsy. Maybe too outré. I appreciate and respect what they're doing because they pulled it off. But I don't think the general public is going to have that level of appreciation for the dissonant chordal patterns and the absence of a solid, stable hook. It's hard for a song like "Daisy" to be catchy because your mind is busy thinking things like, "is that the right chord" or "something doesn't sound right" as it floats in and out of key. Each passage usually resolves to something that works, but for too many brief moments I caught myself thinking something wasn't working with the music.
So right now I'm rating it, "Not sure, ask me again in a week."

"Happy is a Yuppie Word" starts out great. "Yuppie Word" has a good start/stop jerking feel with breaks of decently-flowing music. It's more like what I wished "Lonely Nation" was and could have been. The melody hook is OK. At nearly 5 minutes it's a little long though. Songs like this on previous albums were good, but easier to listen to because they were shorter. I could've done without the whole "Nothing is sound!" redundant bridge lyrics.
I'd describe this song as "not bad".

“Golden" is a good poppy tune, with a decent hook, great arrangement, beautiful harmonies, a wonderful (lyrically and musically) acoustic breakdown at about 1 minute. In fact I like that whole verse. This song is pretty in its simplicity. I didn't think Jon Fields could produce something so bare-bones.
Rating: "Good"

“Politicians" has some good guitar work but it, “The Setting Sun” and “Fatal Wound” all come across as mediocre. Pretty much filler songs.
Ratings: "OK, but nothing to write home about"

"Shadow Proves Sunshine" is really a great song. I can't necessarily put my finger on what exactly I like about it, but it will get 4 stars in my iPod. Good imagery I thought. Plenty of catchiness. I enjoyed where it opened up about half way through too. John's alternate vocal that is a couple octaves higher than the lead, holds my interest well too. This song has a VERY "U2" feel (newer stuff, not older stuff).
Rating: "Not bad, particularly if I'm in the mood for it"

“The Blues” is a superb tune. It does for me what “Dare You to Move” does. The “when the world caves in” tagline is really catchy. Verses are potent and profound in their simplicity but address thought processes we’ve all had from time to time. You hear some clichés but not to a sappy degree or anything. There’s some obvious repetition, maybe more than any other song, but the arrangement and melody are so strong I wouldn’t dare call it redundant.
Rating: “Great stuff”

“Stars” of course has been available as a single for some time now so it hardly seems worth generating a specific review of it. Suffice it to say though, if you were lucky enough to download the entire album off of iTunes (which I recommend) you got an extra-special acoustic version that’s twice as good as the radio release. There’s a tone of arrangement dynamic present in this song. Guitars bouncing all over the place. No wonder they had to hire another guitarist. What you’d expect from John Fields’ production, frankly. But it was mixed really well to the degree you don’t feel like there’s too much going on, necessarily. Catchiness is there, but not as strong as “We Are One” or “Easier Than Love”. The hook is in the guitar riffs and that’s even more so the case for the acoustic version.
Radio version rating: “Pretty decent”
Acoustic version rating: “Superb”

So how would I describe this album? Well, the individual songs get ratings of pretty darn good, pretty decent, disappointing, not sure, two not bad's, good, OK, great and a pair of superbs. I'd say that stacks up in Switchfoot's favor. Bazooka-Joe definitely recommend this album.

And now Bazooka-Joe is exhausted. Bazooka-joe needs some pasta.

The Best Birthday Present This Year

2005-10-01T16:40:00.000-07:00

Ah yes, Bazooka-Joe's blog now comes with an awesome new wrapper (That's "wrapper", not "rapper" - there's a difference). Uber special thanks to Dan and the second coolest birthday present he's ever gotten me. The first of course being the blonde mullet wig. And yes, that's me in the corner with the eye patch about well...a long time ago.

The Art & Science of Flatulence

2005-09-30T12:39:00.000-07:00

I nearly ran over the “F” volume from a 1998 World Book Encyclopedia this afternoon. Maybe it was from one of the kids waiting at one of the many bus stops on my street that turn a half-mile stretch of street into 20 minutes of frustration manifesting impatience. Or perhaps from the neighbor that now has a permanent canopy in his yard for the "perpetual yardsale" that apparently will continue every weekend until she sells all 26 volumes of the encyclopedia separately! So I’ve been doing some research on the almighty fart. I’m happy to announce I’ve successfully discovered exactly what I’m breathing in when I’m standing in the bookstore flipping through an exhilarating selection on American engineered guitars of the 50’s and 60’s when the guy a couple rows down lets out a squeaker.

Apparently, the average human releases roughly 1 liter (or 3 pints) of farts. Men fart roughly 12-24 times a day, while women only average about 7 times daily (remember, this is an average now…experienced professionals such as myself trump this number). What you’re breathing in as you inhale butt aroma from your neighbor is actually CO2, nitrogen, oxygen, methane and hydrogen. But none of these components actually have an odor though. The foul stench you smell is mainly a result from Butyric Acid, which apparently has a smell very common to that of rancid butter, and sulfur compounds which often smell much like rotten eggs.

In other words 90% of the gaseous fumes that are released, are comprised of the same gases you breathe in (or exogenous gases) in perfectly clean air containing the same compounds. There’s no difference. The other 10% however are gases produced within the digestive tract (or endogenous gases). My personal take on it is that those that have perfected the art of flatulence, such as myself, have a higher percentage of digestive juices in their fart mixture. Farts from a hefty lunch of beans, cabbage, Jerusalem artichokes, cereal, pastas, etc produce higher-scoring farts than, say, ice cream for instance.

Beans in particular are a good source of this fuel. In beans, endogenous gases arise from carbs that don’t fully get digested in the upper intestine. So when they make their way to the lower intestine, bacteria within the intestinal tract have a hay day on it, which produces the glorious odor so easily identifiable with a member of the bean family.

But enough on the smell…let’s talk about the sound. Hieroglyphics as fart back as the walls of the ancient Incas perpetuated the myth that the sound of fart came from the flapping of butt cheaks in the wind. In reality, the sound comes from smaller vibrations of the anus. One can alter the pitch of a fart by tightening or loosening the sphincter muscle and the speed at which one pushes out the gaseous embodiment of food by-product stench. The lucky ones can further assist in the ability to generate a varied array of sounds based on the amount of moisture down there and body fat (I myself having a gloriously high fat percentage am able to grab those low notes that DND nerds, supermodels and crack addicts only dream of.

One should note that nerve endings in the rectum learn to distinguish between farts and poops. Although loose stool can occasionally “confuse” these nerves. You can’t hurt yourself by holding in a fart.

It is believed that bovine flatulence is a contributor to the greenhouse effect. However, only 1/6 of the total gaseous emissions from livestock is produced by cow farts. The rest are cow burps (no lie). I should note here that the process of lighting farts is no myth. With the presence of copious flammable gases, it’s more than feasible and has been done for entertainment’s sake for years.

Famous Farters
Edward de Vere, Earl of Oxford, cut a juicy fart while swearing loyalty to Queen Elizabeth I. He entered exile for seven years due to embarrassment. When he got back, the queen was reported to have reassured de Vere, “My Lord, I had quite forgotten the fart.”

Roman Emperor Claudius passed a law legalizing farting at banquets. That was back in the day when people believed farts were poisonous and you could die from holding them in.

Sir Henry Ludlaw had a present for the House of Commons when he released a ginormous fart that was so famous that Ben Johnson wrote an epigram about it.

According to Mozart’s letters, he used to fart a lot. He wrote about them in detail to his mother and cousin. Apparently there was a movie made about him that touched on this and it’s completely true.

Many attribute Adolf Hitler’s megalomaniac tendencies to the abuse of anti-flatulence pills.

A British inventor patented a “fart collecting device” (UK patent app #GB2289222). Apparently you actually have to put the thing up your butt.

In 1522 Juan Luis Vives did a commentary on St. Augustine’s “De Civitate Dei”. Both pieces of literature refer to the existence of actual Professional Flatulists. Apparently these guys could produce many pitches, tones, and rhythms with their farts. These apparently were very common during Europe’s dark ages and the art itself has Germanic roots (did I mention I’m about 50% German?). A performer named Roland the Farter was invited to the court of Henry II every Christmas. I’m starting a petition to bring professional farting back to the aristocracy as a form a entertainment in 2009. I figure I’ll be ready by then.

Birthday Slothfulness

2005-09-27T07:07:00.000-07:00

I've always loved the word "sloth". Sure, it's one of the seven deadly sins, and yeah it's the name of a critter with three toes that lives in Australia, but long before I knew that it basically means 'laziness' it was the name of that oh so lovable character from the timeless classic "Goonies".
OK, so I was really just looking for any reason I could find to post a picture of Sloth on my blog. "Sloth love Chunk" definitely ranks in my top ten for all-time movie quotes. Anyway, today is Google's 7th birthday and tomorrow is my 26th birthday. I'm not celebrating or anything. The iPod I bought myself in July was my birthday present (but check out my wishlist in my profile if you're feeling like getting me a little something). In the mean time, I found a lovely blog on the ten worst album covers of all time that I’m recommending people check out in lieu of my blog for the rest of the week. I love saying "in lieu". I always think of Ferigno and the Hulk.

Memory Lane for 25 please, Alex

2005-09-23T10:56:00.000-07:00

I’m not sure what the answer to the Jeopardy clue is, but the question is definitely, “what is bad music I thought was really cool when I was a teenager.” Today’s post is about the 25 most nostalgic albums in my collection. Not my favorites, not the “best” albums…the most nostalgic. So for you youngens there gonna be a lot of stuff from the 80’s and 90’s in here. Not all of it is “bad” music. A lot of it still holds up. But a lot of it is simply sentimentality too. So no comments about “this sucks” or “that was terrible” or “that band’s lead singer shot himself” OK? Get your own nostalgia! :) There’s a lot of Christian music on here (over half) as well as secular and there’s probably some references to a thing called “Jesus Northwest”. It was a festival I attended every year from 1992 till 1997 and had some pretty heavy impact on me as a kid in terms of music.

First a little background as to why I’m posting this. See, I’ve been in an independent, but very ambitious Christian rock band for the last 2+ years. Earlier this week I quit. There’s a whole ‘nother blog post there (probably a whole ‘nother blog for that matter) so I won’t get too much into that. But one of the things you do, when you’re in a band, particularly with good friends, is you talk a lot about nostalgic musical influences. I’ve never met a musician that wasn’t quick to give a long dissertation on what influences he or she had and why. I think it stems from a basic, instinctive desire to want to be on VH1’s “Behind the Music” and sit on the comfy couch and tear up when they ask about what inspired you when you were a kid. So dim the lights, pop the popcorn, and queue the montage!

Honorable Mention: “Audio Adrenaline” self-titled freshman release

#25 – “Joshua Tree” by U2
U2 stormed on the scene when I was still in elementary school. What’s ironic about it is that in 1990, my mom had a pretty tight hold of what music came in to her house so my only exposure to this album was from what radio I heard when my mom wasn’t around. Like many kids in my generation I was a latchkey kid. Had I not been, I may have never developed my love for music because I probably wouldn’t have been exposed to much of it before several years later. So anyway, there were all these songs I knew I liked, “With or Without You”, “Still Have Found What I’m Looking For”, “Where the Streets Have No Name” that were being played constantly on the radio and I liked them. But the irony of it is I didn’t even know they were by the same artist, not to mention all on the same album (give me a break I was 9, OK?). So Joshua Tree gets the nod for number 25, the hardest spot to decide on in a top-25 countdown, because that’s the spot that has ten candidates and the other nine won’t make the list at all.

#24 – “Nothing But the Best” (a greatest hits collection) by White Heart
If you’re at all familiar with White Heart, Christian rockers of the early 80’s, 90’s and early 00’s, then you’re probably familiar with Nothing But the Best. This double-album is the greatest example I’ve ever seen of a greatest hits collection. Truly only the best songs from the band’s repertoire are represented here. There’s a “Rock Hits” CD and a “Radio Hits” CD, which is to say that the soft music (power ballads mostly) were put on their own disc. White Hearts previous record label’s have released numerous favorites, and greatest hits collections and Billy Smiley has gone on the record as saying that White Heart had nothing to do with those releases and White Heart wishes those labels would simply stop doing it. Anyway, back to the music…this collection came out in the mid-90’s and it was in my player non-stop for a very long time. I don’t know if there’s a single song on either disc that I think doesn’t deserve their spot on the album. This collection is pretty heavy on the “Brian Wooten” era White Heart (Powerhouse, Tales of Wonder, Highlands) but that was my favorite stuff too, so I was glad to hear that, as well as the best stuff from prior to Powerhouse but all the tracks are with Rick Florian’s vocals.

#23 – “Legend of Chin” by Switchfoot
Despite Switchfoot’s transformation into the 800lb Christian rock gorilla recently, storming the country with their lastest release, Nothing is Sound (which I love coincidentally), Legend of Chin is the only Switchfoot album on this nostalgia list. Probably because the rest of the albums came out too recently to really feel nostalgic about them. Remember this isn’t, “my favorites” just the ones I’m most sentimental about. Dan found this CD on one of those cardboard cutout display units with cheesy broken headphones to listen to music on in the merchandise warehouse at Jesus Northwest (I want to say 1996?). He dragged me over and said I had to hear it and of course I’ve been an enormous Switchfoot fan since that day. Dan and several other friends and I went to Switchfoot’s first concert that fall after Jesus Northwest. To my recollection it was Switchfoot’s first show ever in the Portland area. They played the Expo center (it’s the kind of place that has gun shows and trading card conventions). A band called Ruby Joe opened for them. Here was this great, pretty much undiscovered band, recently signed, playing this horrible venue and to make matters worse, my friends and I were the only ones there to see them. We screamed and cheered after every song and they played their whole set and we yelled out requests. After the show they hung out with us for a good solid hour. Just me and my friends. Nothing is Sound shot to #3 on Bilboard after one week and they’ve already gone platinum with the album. My guess is I’ll never get an opportunity like that with those three (I hear it’s five now) and they’ve probably changed somewhat since then. But I have my memories and that’s good enough for me. Perhaps even more reason why this album is so darn nostalgic for me is because I listened to it everywhere I went. I went to Hungary to visit my missionary girlfriend and many times when I hear “Underwater” or “Might Have Ben Hur” I get visions of flying on a plane to Europe or being there in Budapest with my girlfriend (now my wife). Every time I drive the stretch of I-97 between Bend and the California border, I put this album on. Don’t know why, just really puts me in a great, nostalgic mood.

#22 – “Evolution” by Geoff Morre & the Distance
I think half the reason I was so enamored with this album is because of Mark Lowry. His intro to the first song, Evolution, as the high school science teacher I found to be pretty darn funny back in 1995. There was some good music on here though too. “Life Together” pretty much described the kind of relationship I had with my friends at that exact point in time. Lots of great ballads on this one.

#21 – “Off the Deep End” by Weird Al
What can I say. My friends and I were pretty enthralled with this particular Weird Al tape (yes, we listened to it on tape, not CD). I think mostly that’s because it was the only one Dan had and I spent a lot of time with Dan and his brother back then. That and it made fun of a lot of music that I was finally familiar with due to an increased exposure to mainstream music.

#20 – “Nevermind” by Nirvana
No, I was not one of the many people that bought this album when it was popular. I actually got into Nirvana around ’94, just before a 12 gauge got what was left of the cocaine-laiden, beer drenched grey matter that passed for a brain. Note, I did say before he shot himself, so I wasn’t a poser that only got interested from the hype, but at the same time, I was definitely a late bloomer (pun intended…get it?). Nevermind.

#19 – “Squint” by Steve Taylor
This is another one I can pretty much thank Dan for. We listened to this album quite a bit in high school. The lyrics were, and still are, just great. Hits like “Bannerman” and “The Lament of Desmond R.G. Underwood Frederick the IV” (yes! I can still name it!) were really good and got some attention from radio and MTV, but my favorites were the obscure songs. “Sock Heaven”, “Easy Listening” and “Cash Cow (a three part rock opera)”.

#18 – “Serious Hits Live” by Phil Collins
So, this is one of those albums my music aficionado friends make fun of me for liking. But this album and I go way back. Back to the 1988. I was seven or eight years old when dad decided he wanted to buy a CD player. He made the decision fairly reluctantly. Seems kind of silly now. Anyway, mom said we could each get one album so we actually had something to listen to on this CD player when we got him home. Many of my suggestions were denied, shot down, summarily dismissed. But I’d heard “Another Day in Paradise” on the radio and could convince her it was an album with a wholesome message based on that. It was my first CD. And yeah, I listened to it a lot.

#17 – “Bloom” by Audio Adrenaline
Awe yeeeeah, here we go. “Never Gonna Be As Big As Jesus” baby. Was anyone ever as sick of a song as I was of that song? Dan put together no less than three full-length music videos to this song for various youth events, contests, etc and I helped with a couple. You get really sick of a song you wind up working on for that long. Lots of good stuff on this album though. I wound up covering nearly every track of this record in one band or another, or for worship material.

#16 – “Jesus Freak” by dc Talk
OK, this hardly even requires an explanation (except maybe why it’s so low in the list). I was there, live, where they played the world premier of the single. The first time the public ever heard it, I was standing 6 feet away from the device it was playing on. Jesus Northwest, 1995. What’s funny is Dan actually figured out what it sounded like to some degree long before it was released. Dc Talk did a little-publicized feature film called “Free at Last” that played next to nowhere. Anyway, the instrumental background to the movie trailor was this really rockin tune. He told me then he thought that was probably the music to this “Jesus Freak” single coming up soon. He was right.

#15 – “Change Your World” by Michael W. Smith
In the words of Han Solo to Chewie, “Laugh it up fuzzball!” Sure you’re getting a good chuckle out of this one…but you know what…back in the day pickins were slim people. And when you mom censors everything you listen to, they’re slimmer still. In all truth though, for Christian pop music, this was a great album. Still the best he’s ever done in my humble opinion. I don’t keep up with him anymore, but back in 1993 it was great stuff. My second CD ever. To this day, I’m still sick of “Friends”.

#14 – “So Much for the Afterglow” by Everclear
I was in high school, not junior high when this album came out. I don’t remember if my mom had loosened her grip on what I could listen to, or if I simply started going behind her back. Either way she wouldn’t have been thrilled about this one. Nearly every song on here was a hit. “Father of Mine”, “Everything to Everyone”, “Buy You a New Life”, and no less than 5 more. My friends and I listened to it on repeat for our weekly LAN gaming parties.

#13 – “The Colour and the Shape” by Foo Fighters
Great album. Tons of hits. Turn on a modern rock radio station anywhere in the country during this album’s hay-day, even for an hour, and you’d hear “Monkeywrench”, “My Hero” and “Everlong”. I must’ve been driving about this time because I was listening to a lot of radio in the car by now.

#12 – “Free at Last” by dc Talk
Dc Talk’s third release was really my first dc Talk album. I had a copy of Nu Thang on tape but I got it the Christmas that Free at Last came out so it didn’t really get a fair shake from me. Free at Last, however, was the first album I really listened to like a mad man. Wore the print on the tape right out. Memorized the lyrics to every song. My friends and I could each take either Toby, Kevin or Michael’s part in the car, play the whole album and sing along, then switch parts and play it over again. We must’ve drove our youth leaders crazy.

#11 – “Friend Like U” by Geoff Moore & the Distance
Dan and I were listening to this album up in my tree house. I think one of us (or both of us) was going through a break up with a girlfriend at the time. Songs like “Good to be Alive” and “Friend Like You” really help with that kind of depression. Several songs on this album made my favorite mix tapes for a long time.

#10 – “Going Public” by Newsboys
This was the first album I really tried to play to when I got my first electric guitar. Huge hits on this album too. “Spirit Thing”, “Shine”, “Truth and Consequences”, “Going Public” and more. Most of this album is a stellar project. It’s still my favorite Newsboys album to this day.

#9 – “Don’t Censor Me” by Audio Adrenaline
You thought “Never Gonna Be as Big as Jesus” was a song worth getting tired of? “Big House” is twice as worthy. Great song, great album, great band. I don’t know what happened to Audio A after Barry Blair left to produce and manage and Bob Herdman left to run Flicker Records, but they haven’t been the same since. This album epitomizes my music tastes in the early 90’s. I went an saw Audio Adrenaline live no less than 7 times while they were still playing songs off this album. “We’re a Band” is still one of my ten favorite songs of all time.

#8 – “In Utero” by Nirvana
My mother threw this album out once. I burned it or cracked it in half twice at the persistence of my youth leader at the time that music like this was garbage and “garbage in, garbage out”. I lost it once too. So I’ve bought it like 4 times, giving the band way more money than ever would have happened if I’d just hung on to the first copy! “En Bloom” was pretty inspiring to me at the time. “Heart Shaped Box”, “All Apologies” and “Pennyroyal Tea” all prime examples of the grunge movement that was going on while I was listening to Geoff Moore and Mark Stewart.

#7 – the blue album by Weezer
To my knowledge, this album doesn’t actually have a name but it’s still one of my all-time favorites. Talk about timeless classics. Not a bad song on here. I was right to fall in love with this one. This is one album that was cool then, is still cool now, and will always be cool and I was part of that “movement” I suppose, as an avid listener and follower of the band. Rivers is pretty much a genius. My friends and I memorized every word and tonal inflection and air guitar riff on this album.

#6 – “Unseen Power” by Petra
Unseen Power had just been released in 1993 when I started getting into Christian music and current rock and roll. Little did I know at the time Petra would never put out a better album with more good songs. The soundtrack to much of my childhood that year is this album.

#5 – “Go West Young Man” by Michael W. Smith
OK, so you get to laugh at me again. I heard “Place in This World” on the local top 40 “Z100” station in 1991 and, to my recollection, it was the first Christian music I ever heard. This was the second Christian music album I ever bought (tape of course). Some great pop tunes on here.

#4 – “Sixteen Stone” by Bush
As I entered high school in 1994-1995 I started listening to more and more mainstream alternative rock radio. We had cable too at the time. I remember the first time I heard “Comedown” on MTV. “Holy cow” I said to myself as I slouched on the couch eating my third ice cream sandwich for dinner. It was uber catchy. Then on the radio, and again, and again. And then more songs from this Bush album. “Machinehead”, “Everything Zen”, “Little Things”, and of course the stellar mega-hit that was “Glycerine”! Then I went and purchased the CD and found that “Alien” might actually be my favorite song on the disc. There was maybe two songs that weren’t my favorite at the time this album came out. I listened to it over and over and over anywhere I could that my parents wouldn’t find out. I was definitely driving around this time. I learned how to play most of them too. They became my favorite band for about a year. But they never put out another album that could even remotely hold a candle to this one. Subsequent projects had one, maybe two semi-decent songs and none of them came close to the caliber of the six I listed here.

#3 – “Greatest Hits” by Air Supply
So here’s the second of two “great hits” collections that made my most nostalgic list. But for this one, I have to take you way back to memory lane. This was one of the albums my mom let my dad keep after they had me. He had it on tape. Most of these songs are from the 70’s to be sure. Before my time. It’s nostalgic because my dad mostly listened to talk radio in the car. But on a few select, lazy Saturdays and on long trips, he’d bring tapes because my mom hated him pounding on the dash in some sort of violent attempt to keep the reception of political propaganda as he drove out of state. He always brought two tapes, and this was one of them. Most of the time we took long trips, we were moving. And that was usually cross-country. I catch a lot of flack for liking these guys form my band mates and other rocker types. I can’t help it. It’s part of my early childhood, man.

#2 – “Innocent Man” by Billy Joel
Remember how I said brought two tapes with him in the car? This is the other one. Still really great music even today though. The best stuff BJ ever did is on this album. Every song is good.

#1 – “Beyond Belief” by Petra
Well this came as no surprise to anybody that knows me. We seemed to have instinctively known when Petra was taking, or had taken the stage. Dusk had developed into full blown darkness as we made the 1/8th mile, mostly uphill trek to the crest of the amphitheater. After we showed the gatekeepers the blurry ink stains from that morning’s initial , we turned to the right and walked slowly up the small hill lined and scattered with folding chairs, families and couples on blankets, many standing and peering through the chain link fence. The crowd beyond the small hill I could not see but it began to be clear to me the entire populace of the festival had gathered there. No one was missing this concert. The stage lights glittered and danced on stage. They changed colors from soft blues to soft yellows, greens and reds as a palm muted clean electric guitar riff bounced up and down the scale accompanying John Schlitt’s tenor vocals. My saunter turned to a jog as my intrigue was sparked, and then I reached the pinnacle of the amphitheater’s bowled outer edge and looked down on what I later learned was tens of thousands of people. In a matter of seconds from my reaching the top and ascending on the scene about 80 yards as the crow flies from the front corner of stage right, Louie Weaver’s stick crashed upon the head of the snare drum and the light picking of the clean guitar riff turned into a roaring thunderous overdriven chord strum. The flood lights beamed in perfect rhythm with the drum hits and chord strums and illuminated the entire dust bowl showing off the crowd of thousands, all fist-pumping in unison and screaming out the same two words in magnanimous vernacular, “Beyond Belief, Beyond Belief!” The blood rushed from all over my body to my head, my eyes locked in gaze at the entire scene, my ears straining to catch every little nuance as the distorted guitar rolled through the post-chorus mantra and the bass thumped in time with the kick drum in a pulsating pattern of pure perfection. The entire display was like watching the gears of a well-oiled antique clock methodically tick along. Seeing the crowd react to the music, the musicians, and seeing those on stage react in kind to the emotional overtones that flowed from the grandstands, from those in the woodchip-covered pit down below and those closest to the stage reaching out. It was more than surreal. It was euphoric. Better than any drug I’ve ever had to this day. I finally discovered a music that touched my soul deep down in a place no art had ever penetrated before. I had not only discovered one of the greatest friendships that I would carry through junior high, high school, college and into my adult life that day; not only discovered the joy of belonging to a group of fellow believers from my own church were my own age and lifestyle, but I discovered rock and roll as it stylistically manifested in the late 80’s and early 90’s for the first time and immediately fell in love not only with the music, the genre, the band and the song, but the very art of creating it struck me at that very moment as an endeavor I wanted to cultivate and be a part of. But beyond this, gazing at the thousands, I learned that I was not alone. There were Christians here, that were proud of what they were and who they were. And as they chanted “Beyond Belief” at 117dB it was a moment of serenity and peace that my heart had never experienced. These were kids. Kids my age. Loving rock and roll and able to take it home to their church-going parents and not have them burn it in effigy.Something inside me stirred that night. I sat in awe for the next couple of songs until I snapped out of my comatose-like state and ran down the amphitheater’s bowled edges, into the barkdust-covered, mostly fenced off dirt pit that engulfed the most fanatical 5% of the throng and proceeded to work my way up to the front of the stage or as close as I could get to it. I dismissed both the remarks and dirty looks I got from people scared I would try to somehow “cut in front” of them, block their view or obstruct their kids’ line of sight from the demigods on stage. Dan and I later joked that at one point it seemed a drop of sweat or spit from John Schlitt had landed upon my forehead and justified my lack of showering for the weekend. Truth be told the shower waters were about 34 degrees Fahrenheit and even in the heat of a nearly-100 degree day my body convulsed at the idea of sharing my frozen edification with dozens of burly, hairy, male thrill seekers. That night after the Petra concert and their encore, I ran (literally ran) to the mobile covered Christian book-tent containing hundreds of CD’s from Christian artists of every genre. I had never really taken a close look at the selection before this point, and for the life of me, I can’t quite ascertain why. Dan and I stood in a rather long line as I waited to purchase my first cassette tape copy of Petra’s “Beyond Belief” album.

I stayed up all night long memorizing the words with a walkman and a flashlight.

Creswell In Studio - Days 4 & 5

2005-09-15T12:45:00.000-07:00

(this one admittedly is for the musicians and the recording fanatics in the room)

After waiting 24 hours to acquire the Fender Hot Rod DeVille that was so aggressively recommended to me and so gloriously played back to me from previous projects in the studio, we got it (212 combo) in the live room only to discover that it had a blown speaker, and there was no mitigating the effect said blown speaker was having on the sound coming out of it. They were scrambling to call the owner back immediately to inform him of the situation and to immediately notify him that “we got it that way” lest he attempt to get them to pay for it. I wasn’t sure if I’d get the amp today or not, so just in case, I did a little bit of research myself.

If you’ve read the first few days worth of recording blogs, then you know I own a Peavey 50 Classic. It’s a tweed amp that looks suspiciously like a Fender Bassman. Four EL84’s in the power amp with a 12AX7 driver, two 12AX7’s in the preamp, four Blue Marvel 10” speakers, 50 watts, 2 channels, 3-band EQ, bright switch, master volume. Later versions came with an effects loop, but mine doesn’t have one. I started looking up both the DeVille and my 50 classic. Both amps come in a 212 and a 410. A few reviews I read said the 410 sounded a little brighter than the 212, which makes sense. And then I found a review from a guy that did a side-by-side comparison of the two and basically came away from the experience with the opinion they sounded very similar, with the Fender being a little louder, at 60 watts (two 6L6 power tubes and three 12AX7 preamp tubes).

So now faced with finally obtaining the exact amp we were looking for and it having a problem with such delaying consequence that waiting was not an option, I started to feel an air of panic fill the room. Before anyone offered up any solutions, I spoke up. “Look I know how you guys feel about Peavey brand stuff, but before we start calling stores all over the area, I think you should know that I did some research today and I found a few things that said the Peavey 50 Classic was a very similar amp to the DeVille. I think between settings tweaking and mic preamp tweaking (see pic below), etc that we can obtain the essence of what we’re looking for through my amp.

And if we can’t, well, we can say we exhausted that option. But I’d feel pretty silly if we did too much more at this point before even trying it.” More or less out of options without going to some more extreme measures, our producers agreed to let me go home, pick it up, and bring it to the studio. The amp’s a mess. The Peavey logo on the front grill cloth was ripped off last year. The tolex is tearing away at a few spots. One of the metal reinforced corners was smashed somehow so it’s a bit askew. 3 or 4 of the chickenhead knobs are missing and the knobs could fly off a few others at any moment. The leather handle is cracking and will probably need replacing in a year or so. She’s seen stage time in roughly 20 states in the last year, spent hours in a trailer going cross-country, been borrowed by opening and closing bands’ guitarists, dropped, crammed in small spaces, been pushed to her limits, been made fun of by Marshall, Fender, Mesa, Orange and THD amp-toting guitarists all over the country, praised by FOH soundmen as having “surprisingly great tone”, banned by my producers, and is now about to make a debut with me in studio. I carried her heavy chassis into the live room feeling she was a bit like the Rudy of guitar amps. I fired her up, let the tubes warm for a few minutes, and let the producers alone to see what they could get out of her.

My lead singer, Will, and I headed outside to talk while they worked. Kyle's neighbor, let's call him "Randy", chuckled as he swaggered over to us. “You fellers make any money doing this [stuff]?” he cajoled in a booming voice. I humored him for conversation’s sake since I had nothing better to do, as I leaned against my SUV parked on the curb. Randy had the kind of accent that you hear people up North use to make fun of Southern drawl while chewing tobacco threw their tooths. Very exaggerated and over-the-top, except Randy's was for real. Right out of “King of the Hill”. Randy's tight white, single pocket, stained tee shirt did not cover his beer-filled gut. His graying blond hair was greased in a most peculiar fashion and, as it turned out, Randy gives free band management advice. See Randy's son is somewhat of a celebrity Vegas. He’s one of the Elvis imitators that are actually quite good at what they do and are frequently featured. Randy seemed quite proud at the number of ladies his son takes back to his room each night and free beer he can get when he goes to see his son at the shows. Will quickly made an excuse to break away, briefly went downstairs, and returned stating they were ready for me. I watched "Randy" setup a metal folding table right on the sidewalk and bring out several armfuls of swords, knives, and other ancient cutlery and weapons with a paper signed taped to the front that said “for sale”. I overheard a comment from him about “Lord of the Rings nerds” and “needing to make some beer money” as I strolled down to the basement door.

Before I plugged in Sophia in the control room to the patch panel I took a gander at the settings on the amp. The “Pre” (like a gain knob) was cranked to about 80%, and set the “Post” to about 50% and the “Master” to about 50% too. The treble was set to somewhere between 60 and 75%, the bass to about 75% and the mids right around 30-40%. The presence was only brought up about a quarter turn from 0. Sophia’s tone knobs were completely rolled off to 0, which struck me as weird, but what I was hearing was sounding great so we must have been compensating for the lack of presence either with the amp and/or with the mic preamps. I wasn’t sure how close to what we were targeting I would be able to get after it was mic’d and everything else. Much to everyone’s pleasant surprise, we nailed it. Maybe even better than what they were getting with the DeVille, because of the way we set up the mics. Apparently a mixer they used said he had some problems with phasing with a previous mic strategy. This time we went with a single Audix i5 at a slight angle on the bottom left speaker. It was gorgeous. The tone flowed like butter to the mic, and out the control room speakers. We all smiled. It was working. Slowly more and more comments came from the producers about how they would have to make some exceptions to their Peavey ban. Zig mentioned he’d heard some really good things about the 5150 as well and, after this experience, would be more willing to experiment with the brand.

We had to have tracked the rhythm guitar part no less than 8 times for the entire song from start to finish. It’s my understanding that they will probably be cut up in Pro Tools, but that when we’re finished we’ll have one guitar part panned all the way to the left, another all the way to the right, and at least one panned center (maybe two). After a couple hours of tracking rhythm guitars, Kyle gave a quick smirk, looked at me and said, “Let’s hear them.” He layered several and did some quick panning stuff and played them back with everything. I was moved nearly to tears by how powerful, present, crunchy, tonally ideal what I was hearing come out of those control room speakers was. It’s everything previous recordings weren’t. Previous producers had been so interested in their own agenda for creating something so socially different and desiring to steer so far away from the “mainstream” or “typical” guitar arrangement implementation that I had never been satisfied with what we had. We finally had the crunchy “wall of guitar” tone I also thought we needed for the chorus. We went on to give the next song similar treatment where necessary. Hours later we did finish with the rhythm parts. There were some clean and some overdriven lead parts they wanted to do, but it was time to call it a night. I was coming down with a cold and really feeling the effects for the first time that evening as we finished up. I wasn’t sure what their opinion of my playing was at this point. I’d given up trying to impress though. They’d been around the block more times than I had, they’d seen some players that I wouldn’t compare to and I was OK with that. I’d done my part, and I was feeling the emotion and passion in our music like when we’d first written it again. That was coming through in my playing I think to some extent too, so I had no complaints about the process. Kyle & Zig had worked hard for me/us tonight and been flexible enough to try something that was against their better judgment and learned something too, as had I. I hadn’t used my amp’s dirty channel in a long time. I’d been strictly pedal-driven overdrive and distortion tones through her clean channel. I was even pleasantly surprised at what she’s capable of to the degree that I’d made up my mind to try modifying my setup when I get back to use the dirty channel over my Line 6 DM4 pedal. All I may need is something to boost the signal for solos.

It was about 9pm when I got home, tired, in need of some Tylenol, and ready to veg in front of the bube tube for a couple hours until I went to bed. I went to bed trying not to think too much about the day’s progress and what was left to do tomorrow. It was a Saturday so I had to be there at 10am. I woke up approximately a half-hour before I needed to be there. It was a quick shower and throwing on whatever was at the top in the dresser drawers before I rushed out the door. A package of cold Pop Tarts was in my jeans pocket, and a leftover slice of pizza that I snagged from the dining room table hung from my mouth as I fiddled for my keys to the door to my car. Tom Petty seemed to be playing on every station as I sped my way over to the studio in the morning fog. I got there late. I hate being late and was ready to apologize when I realized I was in the basement before anyone had come down from upstairs. I waited for about 15 minutes reading a Fender catalog they had their from their Sophia purchase several days ago before Kyle came down to start. We tweaked some lead parts that weren’t solos, but just colorful riffs for the choruses of one song, and tracked me through the Mesa for variety, playing the root “A” chord several octaves higher than the rhythm guitars as they changed chords, just for a little extra punch and activity in the last few measures of the song. Then we tracked some clean, heavy reverberated melodic single-note stuff on the other song during the verses. I was only there maybe two and a half hours before we were done. As I was leaving Kyle asked me if there was any way he could borrow my amp for a little while. Having a backup solution I said that wouldn’t be a problem.

I think this is going to work out just fine, I remember thinking. I still think so. It’s a completely different experience than my previous studio endeavors. I think this was more representative of what it would be like if a label was paying for the process, frankly, except maybe without the blown speaker. We’re going to do a full-fledged radio promo campaign with at least one, maybe both of these songs. We’ll see how it goes. I have high hopes, and that’s saying a lot for me, because I’m generally a cynic. It’s certainly an experience I’ll take with me and won’t ever forget. And I look forward to posting the finished product here for your listening pleasure and posting frequent updates as to how the new songs help us with booking and how they progress with radio.

Unofficial Men’s Room Etiquette Policy

2005-09-14T14:43:00.000-07:00

1. If you are the first man in the bathroom, please choose a urinal at a far end of the row, not one in the middle. This is particularly critical if there are only three urinals, as is often the case in eating establishments and government buildings.

2. If a man is already standing at a urinal, and there are multiple urinals available, do not stand directly beside him to do your business if you do not have to. Avoid standing between two occupied urinals. Exceptions to rules 1 and 2 include crowded stadiums with a line to get into the bathroom.

3. If you do have to assume the position at a urinal adjacent to an occupied urinal, never under any circumstances “sneak a peak”. That’s gay.

4. If you catch a man “sneaking a peak” at you, you are within your rights to pummel him sufficiently.

5. The lowered urinals are for kids and midgets. Do not use them if you do not have to.

6. If you have a favorite urinal that is in use, do not wait for the man to finish. This is an opportune time to pick a second favorite.

7. There is no need to try to make conversation while urinating, especially if you are unacquainted with the other bathroom user. Just look straight ahead at the wall and mind your own business.

8. Toilet stalls are for those that need to sit down on a toilet. They are not for recreational purposes. Please do not take up the limited number of stalls to read the newspaper, etc. Nothing’s more frustrating when you’ve got to go than waiting for some guy to finish reading the want ads.

9. If a poor fellow is reaching his hand out from under the stall door and crying out “Can you hand me some paper?” you have the right to crack jokes, take pictures, and make general fun of the situation he is in, but you are required to hand him some TP from another stall when the fun is over.

10. The little white cakes in the urinals are not large mints. Do not under any circumstances attempt to eat them.

11. If there are only three urinals, and an impolite patron has occupied the center urinal, it is acceptable to select an unoccupied stall instead of standing directly next to him. This is especially true if the patron smell funny, looks dangerous, or appears to be waiting for someone to utilize an adjacent urinal. Other options would include standing in front of the mirror and pretending to fix your hair, tie, blowing your nose, etc.

12. Flushing after sitting down at a toilet is mandatory. Flushing after standing at a urinal is optional.

13. If you have a male child you are assisting using the bathroom, please perform this awkward process within the confines of a closed stall. No one wants to see your kid’s pants around his ankles as he does his business.

14. Please don’t make fun of the father in the stall with his kid. You were that young once too.

My Dream Blog Design

2005-09-13T12:33:00.000-07:00

So, if I could do it without too much trouble I would redesign my blog site. At the top for the banner I’d want a black & white picture of Kip Dynamite in the top left corner, Fez from That 70’s Show just to the right of that, and the members of the band Slipknot to the right of Fez, all superimposed over the Texas flag with little comic book dialog bubbles. Kip’s says “Your mom goes to college.” Fez says “Where is my toast you idiots!” and Slipknot are all simultaneously saying “Bazooka-Joe is the only blog we read!* ” And then there’s some small print at the bottom of the banner that says, “* Slipknot™ are not affiliated with Bazooka-Joe’s blog, but the surgeon general concurs, they’d be much happier people if they were.”

And then on either side of the postings I’d have an infinitely repeating vertical conga line of the high-carb Hostess cartoon caricatures just like in those commercials in the 80’s. You heard me. Twinkie Cowboys, Ho-Ho’s, Zippers, Captain Cupcakes, the whole gang. If I could animate them doing the Macarena now that obviously would be the real goal, but I don’t want the blog to take too long to open for users on 56k dial-up (keep in mind the percentage of my readership that will be Texans & Kentuckians as it grows in popularity).

Then for the side bar where the Links and profile are, it would be cool to have an elongated fuzzy old close-up of Norman Bates as the background even if people couldn’t tell what it was. In fact, it might be cooler if they couldn’t. Each subtitle would be a picture of the word written and randomly misspelled in sharpie on a torn out piece of napkin and each link would be bulleted with an animated GIF of one of those Elvis hip-swinging wall-hanging clocks.

That would be just about the sweetest blog design ever. Oh to dream.

My Bottom 10

2005-09-12T14:37:00.000-07:00

OK, so if you want to take a gander at what I want for my birthday, then do check out the ol’ wishlist. But this post is a break in the monotony of Studio updates for those of you whose yawning has given way to nodding off entirely.

So, without further adue…my Bottom 10! The ten most suck-worthy things.

Honorable mention goes to Taco Bell's new Fajita Quesadillas. Truly inedible.

10. Non-standard Size Business Cards
They simply don’t fit in my holder. They stick out one way or another and throw off the whole mojo I got going on at my cubical here at work.

9. People that use their fingers to create quotation marks when they talk.
I think this one pretty much speaks for itself, don’t you? Is there anything more irritating?

8. Moderately liberal celebrities that go on the air to tell people how much they’re contributing their time and/or millions to hurricane Katrina victims.
Get over yourselves already. And fire your publicist. Nobody’s falling for your particular variety of bull. As if the reporter bringing it up actually makes you blush and wasn’t on either of your cue cards.

7. Bono & Live 8

6. The fully automated “smart” bathroom
Here at work we have faucets that don’t turn on until you put your hands under them. At least that’s how they’re supposed to work. On occasion they actually do turn on. When washing your hands most people get their hands wet before applying soap. The water always keeps running long after my hands have left the water and reach for the soap dispenser, which is also motion sensitive. By the time I get soap on my hands the water’s still running for about a second or two. Then I have to go through the effort of trying to get the faucet running again to rinse the soap off. I’m usually done rinsing long before the faucet kicks off again. I’m really glad they’re conserving water with these devices. The towel dispenser is, of course, also motion activated and rarely works. But if you flail your hands back and forth in front of it long enough trying to get it to work, you’ll usually get your hands air-dried right about the time a paper towel square spits out.

5. Emails with more than one “Fwd” or “Re” in the subject line.

4. There was this one time I had to “moon the moon”.
Dano was there, weren’t you Dano? Yeah, I wound up cutting my foot wide open on a tent stake. Long story. Had to be there.

3. Bands that use Na na na’s in place of writing actual words to their songs.
Thank you Strongbad. What are we paying you for anyway?!?!

2. That guy who screams “Goooooooaaaaaal!” for 30 seconds at soccer games (and the people that use that sound clip).

1. Olestra Chips
The warning on the bag actually says, “Warning: may cause underwear staining associated with anal leakage”. Kudos to Proctor & Gamble, who apparently really can sell anything. I’d like to see them force fed their own products.

Creswell in Studio - Days 2 & 3

2005-09-12T12:58:00.000-07:00

If you haven’t read day 1, I’d highly recommend starting at the beginning. Everything will make more sense. :)

So if my memory serves me right then Wednesday, day 2, was the day of the computer crash. It’s my understanding that shortly after tracking the remainder of drums on Immigrant, the second single, they had a problem with a USB drive. I didn’t go to the studio that day but instead met the band at Lee’s house (a stone’s throw from the studio). We hung out for awhile, Lee and I went to the bank and a pawn shop after discovering that my 94 Ford Ranger wouldn’t start. Three days and $185 later I’ll discover there was a problem with a relay in the fuel line. I did eventually make it home and spent the day with the ‘fam. Time well spent.

Kyle and Zig did eventually manage to resolve the issues with the USB drive and Will, Lee & Adam did eventually head back to the studio and make some progress from what was left of the evening before retiring for the day. I believe they got most of the bass part tracked for one of the songs.

The next day was Thursday and I was looking forward to tracking some guitars in the studio having completely put my sub-par performance on scratch tracks behind me. My car was in the shop now so Lee came and picked me up about 2pm or so from work. As I enter the studio some of the conversations we had on day one begin to revisit my memory. There were several ways a producer can approach working with a band. They can approach it from the rather “hands-off” method which allows the band member’s creativity to more or less run the direction we go with the project, or they can very much hold the reigns. Cut, paste, modify, add and remove as they feel is necessary. And there are of course varying degrees between the two extremes. There was mixed emotions amongst at least one of the members, but in general, we agreed to let Kyle and Zig have full control. It was, after all, their creative input we were paying for in part, and we wanted to take full advantage of how Creswell could sound on record in the hands of capable producers doing what they do best in an uninhibited fashion. So I quickly disabled whatever preconceived notions I had about how I would be playing these parts.

Zig in particular was quite certain that Lee’s 5-string Soundgear bass (Ibanez, essentially) was not going to sound all that great and made a veto attempt early in the process. I thought it a little premature since he hadn’t even heard the thing, but he said he used to own one and wasn’t pleased at all how it sounded. Lee had two, and loves them above all other basses. I wasn’t there when they tracked the bass parts so I don’t know how that discussion went down when it came time to track it, but Lee did wind up using one of his Soundgears and his Ashdown amp, which he’s also quite attached to (neither Zig nor Lee seemed very impressed with the already-racked bass Pod). I’m a pretty big fan of MusicMan Stingray basses myself, and Zig must’ve been too because there were 2 or 3 hanging around the live room as well as a sweet looking older Fender Jazz. Had I been a bass player myself I wouldn’t have even bothered bringing my gear to the studio in favor of Zig’s collection. I thought it primo and was almost a little disheartened to hear they were decided against for the recording, but that all went away when I heard it. It sounded just fine. Lee’s bass gear was not the only thing that received vetoes. Both my Peavey 50 Classic and Lee’s solid state Crate GX1200H and matching 412 cabinet which I’m currently borrowing for live shows. My Peavey was summarily rejected on the grounds of a “No Peaveys allowed” in-house rule. My Gibson Nighthawk did not receive a veto, so much as it was just never even considered in the shadow of “Sophia”, the brand new SRV strat that even I was excited to play and hear. I didn’t mind so much. But I did expect more from the Mesa amp that was there and was very optimistic about those possibilities.

Kyle, Zig and I all sat down and plugged Sophia into the Mesa amp setup racked in the control room with a Mesa 212 in the “live room” with several microphones snugged up to it at several angles and distances, going to a VXP and monitored through the control room speakers. We fiddled with the knobs and buttons, tried all the channels and every combination of settings we could, but unfortunately, we just weren’t getting the sound that we wanted. We wanted a sharper, crisper, crunchier kind of distortion. After hearing some clips from other bands who utilized a studio guitarist that sometimes does work at The Verb, I decided that what I really wanted was that layered Fender Hot Rod DeVille sound. Man, it was beautiful. Exactly what I hear in my head and exactly what I want for the album. So we called the guy that occasionally does guitar work there to see if we could borrow it for a day or two. Or at least try it out. When we finally got a hold of him though he apparently had it with him doing a show or something out of Medford and he would not get back in to town until 7 or 8pm that night, and Zig or somebody would probably have to meet in Salem. So there was no way we’d get anything done that evening even if we could get it that night. We started calling stores all over asking if they rented out amps, and many do. Ape Over Music, Beacocks Music, River City Music, Showcase Music, Apple Music, and of course Guitar Center, who does not “rent” them but does have a 30-day money back return policy. Zig and I climbed in his car and went to Ape Over Music because it was just down the street a ways. I called many of the other places from my cell phone. Nobody had any Fender DeVilles. Showcase had four that had just been loaded up in a truck and left for a festival in Sisters, OR just 15 minutes before I called. It became clear that we were not going to get the amp that we wanted today, so as we approached the five o’clock hour we called Will, who was running some errands with Adam around town, and told him we were going to jump ahead to tracking vocals.

Will started with Immigrant and it seemed like he was struggling a little bit, which wasn’t an enormous surprise considering the conditions under which he had to work. There’s a mental game that goes on with a vocalist I think and preparation is typically a key ingredient to playing that game effectively. To call him up an hour before he’s about to track vocals was a bit of a blindside I think. Plus the songs were a little different. Small parts had been cut from Immigrant that we were now realizing completely changed how the lyrics of the chorus flowed and how the melody resolves. Add to that he was singing to crummy scratch guitars with mistakes and all instead of a pristine powerful wall of guitars like he’s used to and like he expected. Oh, and there’s one other thing that I have to mention. Zig and Kyle setup several mic stands surrounding the stand that actually held the microphone for Will. They used those stands to drape a canopy of blankets around where Will would be standing. This did a couple of things. It created an additional sound dampener that made for a good effect, but it also made that already stifling hot room (due to the lighting primarily), that much hotter for Will who had to stand within this blanket cave. As he sang and did more and more takes of the vocals it started sounding better and better with each take, probably as his comfort level came up. It was sounding pretty darn good by about 6pm when I decided to head home. Again tired, drained, exhausted, and feeling like I hadn’t contributed much of anything as of yet, Adam drove me home and I was more or less on auto-pilot. I crashed when I got home with one fleeting thought in my head: just how different is the Fender DeVille from my 50 Classic? I would soon plead a case for my amp, prove myself and my ability to identify good tone, as well as abolish a carte blanc prejudicial rule about Peaveys.

Creswell In Studio - Day 1

2005-09-11T13:19:00.000-07:00

This is as unbiased as I can make it. These several pieces of literature on my experiences in the studio will not be an “all good” nor will they have an “all bad” slant. But they will be as honest and as fair as I can make them.

Creswell’s lead singer and band leader was contacted back in late Spring of this year (2005) via email (I want to say Myspace) by Kyle Mitchell and Kyle (“Zig”) Zeigler, both ex-members of the Christian rock band Kutless. It seems shortly after leaving the band, they started up a studio and were offering a great introductory rate for production, engineering and many other services at their studio, The Verb. They were contacting independent bands and signed bands alike notifying them of the services they can provide and, at the introductory rate, it was quite literally “a steal”. Prior to getting their email we were considering our options, at there at the top of the pile for consideration was Barry Blair, ex-guitarist and a founding member of Audio Adrenaline, as producer. We’d met with him during GMA week in Nashville after our showcase performance at The Muse. At any rate, we were and still are very excited about the possibility of working with Barry in the future, on this very album in I hope, but the offer from ex-Kutless bassist and drummer was too good to pass up since they were a little less expensive, they were local, and uber flexible because they lived so close. One of the outstanding benefits to this was that we did not have to leave our families for days or weeks and I did not even have to take a single day off of work (just a couple hours here and there).

The studio itself resides in the basement of Kyle Mitchell’s home in the Rosemere section of Vancouver, WA. As you walk down the concrete exterior steps to the door, you feel the energy and artistic vibe that radiates from the underbelly of this fantastic early 20th century home. A black and white cat greets you with a cry and an eager brush against your feet and ankles. And while Zig and Mitchell continue to feed her, she’s not affiliated with the studio. The neighbor (let's call him "Randy"), ‘works’ in his yard next door. He’s holding some variety of long-handled gardening tool and probably not using it quite the way it was intended. He gives a glance, maybe a smile and a nod as we head down. Something about his demeanor tells me he finds the whole idea of a recording studio in the basement of his neighbor’s house just a little comical. Or maybe he just finds me a little comical. Seeing bands go before where we dared to trod was obviously a common occurrence and it was probably becoming pretty obvious from the typical wardrobe, hairstyles, accessories, etc who was here for business and who was here for pleasure (the line between the two in this business is blurred more often than not though). Something about "Randy" reminds me of the neighborly dynamic of Mr. & Mrs. Morgan with dc Talk. I reach the bottom of the staircase, give a brief knock, and let myself in. I’m the last to arrive at 2pm after having worked a full day. I walk in, say hi, and try to settle in to the comfort level of the others who have been present already for awhile, though just how long I’m not sure.

I’ve scanned the gear in the studio before when we came down to talk to them a few weeks prior. They’ve got a computer, a board, and a couple of racks mostly full of some great gizmos. For this recording at The Verb, we’re going to utilizing the pleasantries of Pro Tools LE, a software utility our last producer was not thrilled about. I also see a pair of Presonus VXP mic preamps, a Digi 002 board, Audix i5 instrument microphones among others, a Mesa Recording Preamp, a Mesa Rectifier Stereo 2:One Hundred power amp, a rackmount Line 6 Bass Pod (not XT), and a beautiful brand new Fender SRV Stratocaster purchased just a couple days before at Guitar Center of Hillsboro. Zig and Kyle have already appropriately named her, “Sophia Rosa Verb”. I’ve brought my Gibson Nighthawk, my Yamaha Pacifica 112 and my Yamaha acoustic from the late 70’s all with me, but I won’t actually wind up using any of them. I did not bring my Peavey 50 Classic because I was already pretty sure I would not be using it. The first thing we do is sit down and have a little discussion about what we sound like, and what we’d like to sound like. It’s hard to quantify such a broad concept like that in to terms, so we went around the room sharing what bands and albums influence us that we’d like to capture the essence of within for elements of our own album. Or in this case, the two singles we’re recording this week. I wanted to say Jet, but I couldn’t think of it at the time. A lot of stuff was thrown out as we went around the room. We came away from the discussion with some of the more recent Green Day work meets Weezer’s blue album kind of a feel. All agreeing that, given our make up and the style we tend to write and arrange in, that Weezer-esque kinds of sounds just might be an achievable attribute. Except maybe for Lee whom I’m not really sure if he knows Weezer and only sited Geddy Lee as his own influence. It’s a hard question to answer, and one that, frankly, I hate answering. It’s one that producers unfamiliar with your work will almost always ask though. It’s like the question, “who do you sound like”. Well, we sound like us. Like Creswell. Which of course is of no help to the person asking because they’ve obviously never heard you or they wouldn’t be asking.

The phone at The Verb studio rings incessantly. It rarely stops. And it’s never trivial either, it’s always something rather important that needs to be addressed concurrently. It didn’t really bother me though for some reason. Probably because there was always two of them there and while one was on the phone the other was usually helping progress the process. They played us some clips of the kinds of material that had left their studio or was about to. They’d specifically site each for the drums, vocals, bass or guitar work that could be accomplished. It was a most impressive collection, but I remember somebody telling me that “everything sounds good on studio control room speakers”. But it game me a sense of real excitement as what I was hearing was very good indeed (not the least of which, I should add, was a clip or two from Falling Up’s new album that they were working on).

We went through each of the songs for them with me just playing an acoustic with really poor action and Will singing. As we went from song to song, it became clear that I was not giving a very good representation of the songs themselves. Verses particularly, I’m not just shrang-ing out chords when we play these songs live, but instead I’m adding texture, feel, nuance to the verse while the rhythm section drives it. Playing the subtle nuances don’t help the producers though, who need to know how the song sounds, and in several cases I didn’t even know all the chords (stands to reason, since I don’t play them). So I kind of feel that some of the songs that might have been better candidates than the two that we picked, kind of got short changed because I wasn’t prepared to give a good representation on acoustic guitar. Kyle and Zig picked Ananias and Immigrant. So that pretty much set the mood for me. I was irritated and displeased with my ability to play them on acoustic, which I’d never tried, was slightly out of tune, I was using an acoustic that was somewhat hard to play on, especially barre chords around the 9th fret, etc and I felt that the producers had probably already made up their minds about the quality of guitarist I was and might even be considering the possibility of needing to play the parts themselves.

I put it behind me. We immediately started scratch tracks. The brought out the highly acclaimed Sophia, plugged her into the Mesa preamp amp on a clean channel, and used the control room speakers as monitors and for me to hear the click track. They decided to not track the vocals for scratches, which may or may not have been a mistake. Because of this I would lose my place several times while tracking them. My nervousness increased. The decision was made by the producers to change Immigrant’s chorus. The problem with making a change like that without the vocals is that you don’t really know how it will impact the flow of the lyrics, which turned out to be a bit of an issue for Will later on. I finished the scratches eventually, with the usual occasional flaw in them as is typical for scratches.

The drum kit we would use for the singles was Kyle’s when he played with Kutless. I’m not sure of the brand but it was custom made by a company out of L.A. It was already setup but we needed to spend some time tuning the heads, micing everything, and adjusting for optimal tonal qualities, etc so we got just the sound we wanted from every piece. What we lacked in snare tone we were sure we’d make up for when it was sent to the mixer, as they apparently have the ability to further EQ and bring out some of the better tonal qualities in the mix. We mic’d both the bottom and the top of the snare, which apparently is a trick of the trade commonly used in our style of rock music. One which I wish we’d known about for our last album. Mentally, as we proceed, I’m taking notes of everything they do different from our last trip to a different studio with a different producer. I’m impressed. What I’m hearing is sounding great. As they day turns to evening, Adam begins to track drums against the scratches playing both in his headphones and in the control room monitors. Adam’s become a really great drummer. He was slightly fill-happy, but it was always good stuff. He played flawlessly to the click track and Kyle, a drummer himself for a pro-caliber band, noted several times to me that it was nice to have a drummer that can really sync up with the click.

Adam was banging away on Immigrant and was pretty much finished with it when it hit about 10pm. I was pretty tired and welcomed sleep as I drove home uncertain of what was to come next. I would not be needed for another day or two I knew which gave me some time to think about what I wanted to hear from my guitars and from the singles as a whole.

Dude, you gonna eat that?

2005-09-08T08:33:00.000-07:00

As if my blog wasn't random enough. Here's a recipe for a cake my wife made me not that long ago, and a healthy reason to go to the liquor store.

BLACK "FORREST" CAKE
2 cups sifted cake flour
2 cups sugar
3/4 cup cocoa
1 1/4 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 cup teaspoon salt
1/2 cup shortening
1/2 cup sour cream, divided
1/2 cup milk
1/3 cup kirsch or cherry flavor brandy
2 large eggs
2 egg yolks
4 cups whipping cream
1/3 cup sifted powdered sugar
2 tablespoons kirsch or cherry brandy
2 (21-oz) cans cherry pie filling

Grease 2 (9 inch) cake pans; line bottoms with wax paper. Grease wax paper and sides of pans and dust with flour or cocoa.

Combine first 6 ingredients and add shortening and 1/4 cup sour cream. Beat on low speed for 30 seconds or until well moistened. Add rest of sour cream, milk and first measurement kirsch. Beat at medium speed for 1 1/2 minutes. Add eggs and egg yolks, beating after each addition for 20 seconds.

Pour batter into prepared pans. Bake at 350F for 30 to 35 minutes until center tests done. Cool in pan on wire rack for 10 minutes. Remove from pans; remove wax paper and cool completely on wire racks. Split cake layers in half by marking with toothpicks and sawing in two with dental floss.

Place knife blade in food processor. Break 1 cake layer into pieces and pulse in processor or blender until it resembles fine crumbs. Set aside.

Beat whipping cream until foamy; gradually add powdered sugar until soft peaks form. Add 2 tablespoons kirsch, beating until stiff peaks form. Reserve 1 1/2 cups whipped cream as garnish.

Place 1 cake layer on plate; spread with 1 cup whip cream and top with 1 cup cherry pie filling. Repeat procedure and top with last cake layer. Frost top and side of cake with whipped cream. Pat Cake crumbs around sides of cake. Pipe or dollop remaining 1 1/2 cups whipped cream around top exterior edges of cake; spoon 1 cup pie filling in center.

Cover and chill 8 hours.

Scrum-dilly-umptious neighbor!

iPod Playlist: Sleepy Time

2005-09-06T06:54:00.000-07:00

Periodically I will post a playlist I've composed, particularly if I've published it as an iMix on iTunes, as I have with this one.

The point of the "Sleepy Time" playlist is pretty much what it sounds like. This is a collection of some great tunes to fall asleep to, if you're like me and can fall asleep to music, or have a touch of tinitis and from time to time have to fall asleep to some kind of noise or music to drown out the rining. It's quite simple, set your iPod's "sleep timer" to 90 or 120 minutes (or less if it takes less for you), tell your iPod to shuffle songs within a playlist if you don't already have it set to do so, pop in the earbuds and sweet dreams! You'll notice this particular playlist is heavy on the Michael W. Smith and Roger Whittaker. I don't know why, I just find the voices easy to fall asleep to I guess. :)

Alan Jackson - Remember When
U2 - One
Howie Day - Collide
The Moody Blues - Nights in White Satin
Billy Joel - Always a Woman
Evanescence - My Immortal
Geoff Moore & the Distance - Heart to God, Hand to Man
Geoff Moore & the Distance - When All is Said and Done
Dido - White Flag
Eagles - Desperado
dc Talk - The Hardway
John Parr - St. Elmo's Fire
Enya - Carribean Blue
White Heart - Silhouette
Michael W. Smith - I Hear Leesha
Israel Kamakawiwo'ole - Somewhere Over the Rainbow
Switchfoot - Home
Bryan Adams - Everything I do
Michael W. Smith - Somebody Love Me
Audio Adrenaline - My World View
Lifehouse - You and Me
Michael W. Smith - Friends
BJ Thomas - Raindrops Are Falling on my Head
Roger Whittaker - The Last Farewell
Dixie Chicks - You Were Mine
Audio Adrenaline - Tremble
Billy Joel - She's Got a Way
Marc Cohn - One Safe Place
Phil Collins - In the Air Tonight
Mr. Mister - Broken Wings
Roger Whittaker - I Don't Believe in "If" Anymore
Joe Satriani - Always With You, Always With Me
Newsboys - Rain
Elvis Presley - Can't Help Falling in Love
dc Talk - What if I Stumble
Richard Marx - Right Here Waiting
Roger Whittaker - New World in the Morning
Michael W. Smith - I Miss the Way
John Denver - Take Me Home Country Roads
Michael W. Smith - Kentucky Rose
Jars of Clay - Worlds Apart
Enya - Only Time
Michael W. Smith - Pray for Me
Switchfoot - Twenty-four
Alphaville - Forever Young
White Heart - How Many Times
Phil Collins - Another Day in Paradise (live)
Geoff Moore & the Distance - If You Could See What I See
Michael W. Smith - Somewhere Somehow
Madonna - This Used to be my Playground
Willie Nelson - My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys
Switchfoot - You
Elton John - I Guess That's Why They Call it the Blues
Police - Every Breath
Audio Adrenaline - Rest Easy
Chris De Burgh - Lady in Red
Amy Grant - How Can We See That Far
Christopher Cross - Best That You Can Do
White Heart - Desert Rose
Eric Clapton - Tears in Heaven
Blink 182 - I Miss You
Newsboys - When You Called My Name
Dido - Thank You
Roger Whittaker - Sailing
Amy Grant - Hopes Set High
Michael W. Smith - Do You Dream of Me
Beatles - Yesterday
Amy Grant - I Will Remember You
Roger Whittaker - Dirty Old Town
Larry Norman - Wish We'd All Been Ready
Roger Whittaker - Streets of London
James Taylor - Carolina In My Mind
Eric Clapton - Wonderful Tonight
Don Henley - End of the Innocence
Garth Brooks - To Make You Feel my Love
Brad Paisley - Whiskey Lullabye
Oasis - Stop Crying Your Heart Out
DeGarmo & Key - Addey
Michael W. Smith - Straight to the Heart

Gear Review: Line 6 MM4

2005-09-01T09:45:00.000-07:00

You can find my gear reviews frequently on Harmony Central, or in the newsgroups (alt.guitar & child groups, and rec.music.makers.guitar). These ratings are an "out of 10" scale just like Harmony Central.

Price Paid: US $150 used

Ease of Use: 7
I didn't find it difficult to use. However, I traded in my Line 6 PODxt for it and a few other pedals so I had pedal programming on the brain and their methods figured out by then already. I suppose there's easier pedals to use, but I didn't really find it all that difficult. If you can program your car stereo's presets, you can figure out this stompbox. Though I still haven't quite figured out what the "Tweak" and "Tweeze" dials do. Seems to have different effect on different models.

Sound Quality: 9
Well, I won't compare this unit to those it supposedly models. I have not actually tried an MXR Phase 90 or many of the others. So I'll simply judge it on its own merits, not how well it models. It generates great chorus, flanger, univibe, phaser, tremolo and they're VERY customizeable. More options than most of the original pedals it emulates I would wager. There's two or three options for every effect it offers. Two choruses, three phasers, two trems, etc. There's almost one for every effect that does exactly what I want. So I'd say their seemingly overkill versatility really paid off in the end because I was able to find what I wanted with very little trouble. Super, super picky people who are trying to compare the models to the originals may be disappointed. I have found there's two types of people generally. Those who love Line 6 products and those who love to hate them. The prejudice seems to run pretty deep for some reason too. I didn't care for POD myself. They over complexified it and the amp models conflicted with my preamp so when push came to shove the POD had to go. But emulating modulation stomp boxes is ALOT easier to do than emulating entire amplfiers, spkr cabinets, virtual mic placement, room%, EQ, etc..... They did a really good job with the MM4. And for that matter, the DM4 too.

Reliability: 10
Pretty reliable. Metal chassis, heavey duty metal plunge switches, hard plastic dial knobs that don't stick out and won't change positions on you too easily. Good strong LED visability. I've heard of some power supply issues with these stompboxes from some newsgroup posters, etc but until I experience a problem, it will get a high rating from me.

Customer Support: 9
I had to call Line 6 about a power issue. If you use a multiple power supply for a pedalboard, you HAVE to use the Voodoo Labs Pedal Power 2. No other multi-supply will work. These Line 6 stomp boxes do not use conventional 9V power plugs. However, you can make your own cables for the VDLPP2 for these devices too. Get a 5.5x2.1mm connector for the supply connection and a 5.2x2.5mm connector for the DM4 or MM4 (or DL4/AM4/FM4 I'd presume).
Otherwise, I've had nothing but good luck with the support people at Line 6. Very helpful and intelligent.

Overall Rating: 9
I love this box. It saves me from buying separate trem, flange, phase, chorus, and univibe pedals. Having any 4 presets I want at the stomp of a foot is super handy. I hope mine never ever breaks or is stolen. I'd be pretty upset.

Platforms (and how they hurt my feet)

2005-08-30T10:52:00.000-07:00

My first article in a series of monthly columns to the Christian musician/songwriter.

“I love the fancy frilly stuff around the edges,” I remember saying. My wife’s father does some really amazing wood work. He’s exceptionally good at 18th century Victorian style pieces. And the armoire (sort of a free-standing closet) that he finished for my wife when she was in grade school could easily command over a thousand smackers in today’s furniture market. He’s also a pastor at a church in Reno and spent 6 years as a missionary in Budapest. But get this…the words “Jesus,” “God,” “Bible,” nor the number 7, are present anywhere amongst this beautiful, hand-carved work of art. And yet, somehow, none of the many super spiritual high-up mucky-mucks that have graced the threshold of my house have ever had negative comments about it. No one’s ever accused my father-in-law of being a heathen, abusing or being a poor steward of his talents, nor has anyone ever given it low marks for a lack of Biblical references.

OK, so you’ve probably figured out where I’m going with this. This topic has been brought to light, fought about, and had entire novels written about it by some of the most prominent Christian authors around. I’ve seen it tear worship teams apart, cause hurtful words to be exchanged, even force small portions of church congregations to split. I won’t pretend to be up to the challenge of changing anyone’s mindset, nor am I prepared to write a book about the topic. But I would like to share my perspective of the Christian songwriter with you.

There are basically two viewpoints that different legs of the body tend to stand on when it comes to Christian artists. There’s the “Ministry as a Platform for Artistry” camp, which firmly stands on the notion that if you’re a Christian and you write music you should write music that has a very profound, pronounced, specific and determined message of Christian ideals, morals, standards or concepts in every song. Of course each denomination has their interpretations of what those concepts mean too, such as baptism, forgiveness of sin, salvation requirements, etc so it’s not really possible to appease all of them anyway. There are many other de facto viewpoints members of this camp adhere to regarding compensation for artists, live performance conduct, etc that I won’t get into here. The other side of that coin is the “Artistry as a Platform for Ministry” camp. Members of this camp consider it great if an artist that is a Christian uses his position to minister at all. So the big question the church wants its answer to is: are you a Christian that happens to be an artist? Or are you an artist that happens to be a Christian? Every Christian that writes music likely faces this crossroads of approach to their writing, which is ironic because very if you look closely, there’s really no difference between the two statements. Neither characteristic comes first or second when trying to figure out what kind of a writer one is. When I’m on the clock at my day job I’m still a Christian just like any time I’m anywhere else. That never changes. But what am I doing? I’m doing the job they pay me for. I have Christ imprinted on my heart and that will impact how I interact with my co-workers, how I deal with situations, hopefully even the quality of the work I perform (work ethic). Occasionally the opportunity to share my faith, witness, minister to others, etc arises. But that’s not why I’m there. I did not get the job on the condition I would proselytize to a minimum number of people per quarter. I was not hired based on my corporate prayer leading abilities, nor my copious note taking during Bible studies. I hope I would never avoid or ignore an opportunity to do the Lord’s work in the workplace or anywhere else for that matter, but let’s face it, I don’t go looking for spiritually significant opportunities in lieu of doing the work I’m handsomely paid to perform. The Bible says a worker is worth his wages. Can the argument really be made that if a “worker” is not present at the jobsite to do the work that is at hand that he/she would still be worth the wages?

The problem with subscribing to, and standing on a platform is that it almost always ends up with toes getting stomped on. The conclusion I’ve come to is that the world needs both types of Christian artists. Those that use their ministry as a platform for artistry are often the ones that are stepping up the quality and the experience of worship teams in sanctuaries on Sunday all across the country. These artists are taking a proactive stance of catering to a primarily Christian audience. They have a message that’s bold, deliberate, uncompromising, and the delivery of that message is secondary. How can I not be in full support of musicians and songwriters that take this path? But let us not thumb our noses at the Christian songwriters that use their artistry as a platform for ministry either. It’s through these individuals that the message of Christ can be heard in bars, secular clubs, the street, places the gospel message needs to be heard. It’s my firm belief that God can and does use both musical ministry styles for His purposes. Secular songwriters are paid for their artistic expression of personal experiences, viewpoints, stories, etc. And an artist that is a Christian will likely have a strong percentage of their impacting collection of experiences come from the spiritual side of life and their faith. So let’s let their art be expressed how they want to express it. God shows up in the details. Creation itself is a testament to God being glorified by non-religious creative processes. So let’s put the platforms back in the closet along with yet another counter-productive wedge we (Christians) use to separate ourselves from one another. I intend to try to cater these monthly postings to as broad an audience as possible. From the girl that flips the overheads at Wednesday night youth praise services…to Toby Mac himself. And now you know why.

Feel free to post your comments here or contact me directly with feedback, criticism, compliment, questions or complaints.

iPod in my Car

2005-08-29T10:51:00.000-07:00

This is an ameteur review of how I got riding with my iPod to wrok for me (since I could find nothing like it on the Internet and had to figure it out myself). It can be challenging at times I must admit and takes some researching and 'trial & error' not to mention dealing with friends' comments on how the quality or the music sucks while you're figuring it out (thus deflating the experience a little). So I thought I'd come up with a short essay (almost like a FAQ) on how it's working for me since I'm fairly pleased with the solution I have currently.

Operating Environment: I live in/around the Portland, OR area. The Portland area has very few spots on the FM band that aren't taken up with radio stations, so if you live here too, keep reading as I have some info that's specific to the area that might be helpful. I have a 20GB that I've owned for roughly 3 months, and like most iPod owners I know, I don't know how I ever got along without it. In those three months, I can count on one hand the number of times I've messed with CD's or the radio. I have a hard leather bound protective belt clip case that I sometimes use, but typically not in the car anymore since I bought the iGrip (a rubber pad that adheres to your dash and keeps your iPod from sliding). I couldn't believe how well it worked. Sharp turns, quick stops, acceleration, the iGrip saves me from ANY slippage. I use the Griffen iTrip to transmit my iPod signal over an FM frequency. I have two car stereos I utilize, an older one from the 90's in my pickup and a new one from early 2000's in SUV. I primarily listen in the car on weekdays between 6am and 5pm. I've also used my iPod/iTrip on half a dozen company cars ranging in stereo quality, but mostly newer stock Chevy and Ford stereos.

Let me just start off by stating that, at least MY FM transmitter, works better some days than it does others. I can be in an area on Monday and get great reception, and be in that same area same time on Tuesday and have it be poorer. I believe this is a reflection of what's in the airwaves on different days, moreso than the quality of transmitter. Weekends in particular the reception seems to be a little worse than weekdays. I've heard very good things about the Belkin and it may be better according to Dan, who owns the same model iPod. Belkin owners have at least one advantage in that it's a lot easier to change stations. I hate changing stations on the Griffen iTrip, in fact it's not even safe to do while driving I should really pull over. So finding a solid spot on the dial that works pretty much everywhere was imperative. It performs differently in different cars too. It works a little better on the car with the newer stereo than the old one. Whether that's because the receiver is weeker in the older one I don't know for sure.

For all of you in the Portland area that are still looking for a solid FM frequency to transmit on I've found that 88.5 works pretty darn well. I wouldn't have thought 88.5 would've worked so well. Other frequencies seem to have less chatter and less white noise. I've tried many of them but have never had as consistantly good luck as I have with 88.5. Just goes to show that you can't judge the conduciveness to iPod transmission by the way the station sounds on its own. There must be some other variables I'm not aware of that make it better or worse for this kind of usage. I spend most of my time in Vancouver and 88.5 works all over Vancouver. It seems the further North you go the better it gets. As you head South into Portland it starts to break up as you cross the I-5 bridge. It gets a little worse as you go through Delta Park, but cleans up around the Portland Blvd overpass. It usually gets bad again right around the time you get to the Rose Garden or shortly after. By the time I cross the Willamette it's noticeably poorer. Practically unintelligible. Till I get through the Terwilliger curves and then it starts getting better. By the time you get to the 217 North exit it's not so bad. Poor on 405, but decent on 26-W/217-S. As you head South on I-5 it gets clearer and clearer from the curves. If you travel in to Tualatin, Sherwood, Newberg, 88.5 goes like a champ. From Vancouver, if you head North, you can camp on 88.5 all the way to Olylmpia. It breaks up for 10-20 miles around Chehalis due to a Jazz station, but clears once you're far enough North or South of it.

I've noticed during those times when reception is breaking up, that I OFTEN can fix the problem just by placing a hand on the iPod. This has worked in no less than half a dozen cars so I'm fairly certain it works globally. I don't know why exactly. It's weird. Like it strengthens the reception to the receiver in your car stereo or something? Maybe something to do with grounding? And what's more, even those times when it's REALLY bad, I can hold it right next to the stereo and it will overpower whatever other signal may be coming through. This is how I get through Chehalis when I road trip to Seattle or driving over the Willamette/through the Terwilliger curves too. Sometimes just attaching my Griffen car charger also helps with the reception in certain areas. I-84 from I-5 to 205 seems to be decent on 88.5. 205 North maintains this "pretty good" quality until you get North of Mill Plain. Somewhere between Mill Plain and SR500 it became crystal clear. No staticky "S" or "F" sounds or staticy distorted guitar tones at all. As I traveled on I-5 South I had perfect reception on 88.5 all the way to Eugene. It started breaking up about there. Luckily that's where I had to get on 126W anyway. And that stretch, being in the middle of nowhere, was perfection as well all the way to Florence. It started to break up right about the time I hopped on 101 South. After just a few miles on 101 and my signal was great again. It degraded a little bit around Gardiner, which can't be more than 100 people. I'm thinking there was some other small transmitter other than a radio station that was interfering. I got some slight break-up around Reedsport, but nothing that made me look for another frequency. It was great until I got to North Bend. Then a radio station broke clear through on 88.5. Luckily exactly that's where I had to be for work anyway so I shut it off just as I was pulling in to the parking lot. Taking 38 East to I-5 from 101 proves to be a pleasant scenic drive with uninterrupted iPod service on the 88.5 spot on the dial as well. All the way North on I-5 until Eugene again it's great.

I'd still love to get myself one of those direct attachment installation units for my iPod and my stereo. But I have a hard time coughing up that much money for a car I may or may not own in a year or two. We'll see though. For now, I'm happy with my iTrip FM Transmitter. My transmissions seem to work best if the iPod volume is set between 50% and 75% and not over. The signal must become too hot after that and literally kind of overdrive the stereo (?). Anyway, just an observation. My car stereo had to be turned up a little louder than I normally play it to compensate, but it doesn't effect the quality. Too much bass in a particular file may effect this too for some reason.

That about covers it! Best of luck to all you pod people. May your shuffles be absent of two star songs and heavy on the Switchfoot.

iPod Rave

2005-08-02T12:31:00.000-07:00

For a long time I was a Macaphobic personality. I hated anything that came from Apple with a prejudice that I can’t really explain because looking back it only makes a modicum of sense to me now. I transitioned from hating Macs out of fear of the unknown to hating them out of spite. Around 1997 I started having to support them in, you guessed it, an education environment. The typical Mac I had support was what IT people call of the 68k variety. I can’t for the life of me even remember why they called it that but I’m pretty sure it had something to do with the model of Motorola processor at the time. The Power Mac was introduced around that time and we had some of those around which were much nicer hardware-wise but I still pretty much hated the Mac OS interface all the way through OS 8 or so. Version 9 was much better and I hear version X is pretty nice. I started coming around and thinking more of Macs around OS 9, though I preferred Windows and Wintel hardware and frankly still do, but I no longer have this unjustifiable loathing for everything Apple.

In fact, I’ve recently fallen head over heals for an Apple product. God save the iPod! I love this device with the same unjustifiable passion that I despised early Macs. I’ve got a playlist for nearly any mood I happen to be in. And iTunes! Holy cow, what a great program. It rips, it plays, has visualization plug-ins, legalized downloading, iMix sharing, you name it. It does it all. And it does it all BETTER than the individual programs I used to use to do those tasks. I’ll be posting some links to some cool iMixes soon. My goal is to have one for every mood I’m in and every task I have to perform, particularly at work. Coming soon is a “Filling Out the Timesheet” playlist. Followed by a “Stuck in the Elevator” and “Root Cause Analysis” playlists. Eventually I’ll get around to a “DMV Line” and a soothing “1040A”.

But let’s get some audience participation going here. What are some good premises for creating Playlists?

Essay: Poverty on Parade (part 3)

2005-08-01T16:50:00.000-07:00

Part 3 – How I Got From Point B to Point A to Point C (Opportunity)

Before the World Trade Center happenings on 9/11, the average IT job in the Pacific Northwest paid really well. Shortly after it the economy started to decline and finding one at all was horrendously hard, and the average salaries slowly started to come down. While Dan to this day is still working at the same company he’s worked at since he was 17, I changed jobs every year. I went from the education service district job with Dan to a local credit union, and then to a hospital. I was there about a year when what I thought was my dream job finally came through for me. The local branch of the US Department of Energy called me to tell me I had been selected, after more than 6 months of deliberation, for the job I thought I always wanted. I was moving up. I was specializing. It takes either very large companies or large government entities to hire specialists that perform a very limited set of skills but perform them extremely professionally and pay them what they claim they are worth too. I was going to take some training, but still they saw potential in my youth and what experience and education I did have. There’s another whole book here, but suffice it to say, I was making more money than any 22 year old should be allowed to make. And with the increase of income, came an increase of debt and expenses. I don’t know why I couldn’t just put the rest away in savings…but we didn’t and it’s one of the largest regrets I have to this day. Some time in the summer of 2003 Charity and I got home from our weekly evening Bible study group, arriving home to our answering machine blinking and resounding a repetitive and obnoxious monotone beep. Someone had called and had left a message. Most of the time it was either my family or Charity’s with the occasional sales person or recorded message notifying us we’d been selected for something or had already won a free flight to Reno or Las Vegas, at which time we’d have to sit through conference about the product they were ultimate trying to sell to us or get us to sell for them. Pre-recorded messages like that left on a machine always start taping 30 seconds after the recording actually starts and almost always end before they can give the entire phone number; not that I was ever tempted to call it anyway. Needless to say we’d had a steady enough stream of those calls that any enthusiasm I might have previously had about checking my messages was long gone. I retired to the home office and proceeded to start a game of Minesweeper or Solitaire while Charity reluctantly began the business of seeing which merchant now wanted our attention. A few minutes later she entered the room where I was losing my digital card game and told me some guy had called for me about playing in a band. Well, it’s not every day you hear something like that. Charity’s tone was reluctant. I strolled into the kitchen to play back the message. “Hi, my name’s Bill Robinson” the scratchy recording seemed to say. Bill Robinson? As in, “Danger Bill Robinson, danger?” I chuckled to myself. Bill went on to state through the message that he was a member of a band that was presently looking for an “electric guitar player” and had somehow heard that I played and was interested in meeting with me if being part of a band at this time in my life was something I’d be willing to consider. I thought the phrasing of “an electric guitar player” to be odd, and to this day, I still do. I’d heard phrases like “rhythm guitar,” “lead guitar,” even “jellyfish guitar” or “nuance guitar” but never heard someone specify the use of an electric without mentioning the kind of playing that would be required of me. Well my curiosity was certainly sparked. The childhood dream of being part of a successful band had never really departed from me since that warm July night, and somewhere in the depths of my subconscious or unconscious brain I still convinced myself that God had something to that effect for me though I was doing nothing proactively to seek it out beyond the occasional flailing insecure prayer like a shotgun sends bits and pieces of led in a spattering pattern; more or less like a “hail marry” pass from a quarterback to an end zone rather than to a receiver. I must’ve somehow felt the opportunity would find me. I hadn’t played in a band for a couple of years now and probably never one so organized and focused on success on an occupational level. I was almost exclusively a bass player at this point anyway. I had my doubts about it, but the next day I called him anyway. We talked briefly and the information exchange was not very in-depth. It was suggested we should meet in person. Will Robertson, as I came to learn his actual name was, showed up at a small coffee shop attached to a Christian bookstore a couple miles from my house a few minutes late. His wife was with him, roughly 7 months pregnant at the time. We sat at a small table just big enough for a couple of coffee drinks. I sipped a grande-iced-mocha-light-ice-no-foam and he partook of an ice-tea-unsweetened-no-lemon. The usual pleasantries were exchanged briefly before we got down to business. I came with a piece of paper with a dozen or so questions scratched on it and he came with a manila folder. The name of the band that he sang lead vocal and played acoustic guitar for was “Savant”. Savant was a 6 piece folk/pop band. Summer Schar played acoustic guitar as well and sang both background vocals and lead vocals on a few songs that she wrote. Mark Daley played keyboard and sang a song or two as well. Alan Tangenal played drums and John Delmark, who was not a member but a contractor, played bass. The names meant nothing to me beyond general information’s sake, but finding out they were a 6-piece Christian folk/pop band was a detail that I found intriguing. The folk/pop groups I knew of were between 1 to 3 pieces at most and never had a dedicated electric guitar player. We chatted and I discovered the mission and ministry of the group was in fact Christ-centered and this sounded like something I was ready to take the first step with to find out more at the very least. Will gave me a couple of CD’s some sheets with words and chords on them. We prayed briefly at my request, as I was accustomed to doing at the beginning or end of a meeting of this nature engrained from my years of church attendance and functions.

Essay: Poverty on Parade (part 2)

2005-08-01T16:48:00.000-07:00

Part 2 – The Tools of the Trade (Means)

So you remember those three elements right? Well, it’s fair enough to cover the “means” now, for which I’m required to fill you in on a little background about me and how I came to be a musician. I’ll try to accomplish this without getting into too much “shop talk”. When I got home from Jesus Northwest ’92 I became obsessed with Christian music. I went through a phase that I would in the future see many after me go through as they transitioned into the obsession. And make no mistake, it can become an obsession. The discovery that one can listen to music of a style and genre they enjoy and at the same time not offend their senses or those they associate with, triggers a pocketbook reaction that can cost thousands of dollars of the individual’s money to be paid to the “Christian” record labels and retail stores. I call this phenomenon “converting one’s CD collection.” I once knew a man, a father of one of the kids I grew up with, whose CD collection increased by over 400 in the course of a single month. Converting one’s CD collection often involves burning or otherwise destroying much, if not all, of the secular CD’s you happen to own. Now this was ’92 and ’93 so remember, downloading songs was not an option. You either had to buy the tape/CD or try catching it on the radio and recording it on a tape deck. “What’s Love Got to Do With It?” It seems odd, but the first memory I can recall having is hearing that song by Tina Turner. I must have been about 3. I don’t really know why this is my first memory that I can still recall (and actually understand), but it’s only fitting that it has to do with music. Lord knows my dad would never allow such “crap” in his house, as he would call it. I was born in Jacksonville, FL on September 28, 1979 in Orange County Hospital just a few minutes before September 29th. My dad was in the Navy at the time and my mom had just been medically discharged due to foot problems that she still has to this day. Because I was a military brat, we moved around a lot from Naval base to Naval base. I have lived in Jacksonville, FL; Norfolk, VA; MD; Long Island, NY; San Antonio & Corpus Christi, TX; Louisville, KY; New Orleans, LA; Vancouver, WA and came very close to living in Anchorage, AK and Buffalo, NY. My dad later transferred to the Coast Guard when his term with the Navy was up. My love life consists of inconsistencies. When I was 6 years old my best friend in Gretna, Louisiana was Nicole. We called each other boyfriend and girlfriend, but really had no clue. As I was helping load the car to prepare for the big move West to Texas, I devised this grand scheme where she could hop in the trunk at the last possible moment and come with us to Texas. “Then my parents can adopt you and we’ll get married later.” When the last possible moment came, she chickened out. When I was nine I thought I was in love for the first time with Michelle, a curly haired girl in my second grade class. She even dedicated a song to me “Let’s Hear it For the Boy” by Denise Williams which was released on the Footloose soundtrack. I used to listen to that tape with her for hours in her bedroom. I later came to realize just what the lyrics to that song had to say about this “guy” Denise was writing about and Michelle was singing about (apparently his name was Rusty). Take a look:

My baby he don’t talk sweet/He ain't got much to say/But he loves me, loves me, loves me/I know that he loves me anyway/And maybe he don’t dress fine/But I don’t really mind/Because every time he pulls me near/I just want to cheer/Let’s hear it for the boy/Let’s give the boy a hand/Let’s hear it for my baby/You know you go to understand/Whoa, maybe he's no Romeo/But he's my lovin one-man show/Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa/Let's hear it for the boy/Rusty, Ariel, Irene & Doreen/My baby may not be rich/He's watchin every dime/But he loves me loves me loves/We always have a real good time/And maybe he sings off key/But that’s alright by me/Because what he does he does so well/Makes me wanna yell/Let’s hear it for the boy/Let’s give the boy a hand/Let’s hear it for my baby/You know you go to understand/Maybe he’s no Romeo/But he’s my lovin one man show/Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa/Lets hear it for the boy/Maybe he’s no Casanova Still his kisses knock me ov-ah/Let’s hear it for the boy/Let’s give the boy a hand/Let’s hear it for my baby/You know you gotta understand/Oh, he don’t score at bowl-a-rama/Still you gotta thank his mama/Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa/Let’s hear it for the boy/Hear it for my man/Let's hear it for my baby

So apparently I don’t talk sweet, don’t have much to say, am a poor dresser, no Romeo, no Cassanova, I sing off key, I’m far from rich, but I love her a lot. Oh yeah Denise/Michelle? Well….”bowl-a-rama” isn’t a real word!….and….and you start sentences with prepositions too!....crap. I kissed her behind a palm tree one day (Michelle not Denise Williams). Just a peck on the lips. It was my first and I would come to find it was my last for five whole years until I met my wife in junior high. We were as serious as 2nd graders get for awhile, until she found a cuter, taller guy in the 3rd grade, who dedicated a song to her. I understand it was a Huey Lewis and the News song, which seems fitting. In 4th grade my infatuation was with Jennifer White, Michelle’s best friend who was home schooled. I think I was pretty much the only boy she knew. I asked her to be my girlfriend, she said yes, and then I don’t think we really ever spoke to each other after that. 6th grade, after we moved to the Northwest, it was Tiffany. I never got her last name. That lasted about a week and was primarily conducted over the phone. Hang on, I’m almost done, there is a point here. When I was in 7th grade, 13 years old, I met my future wife. Sometime in December of 1992, one of my friends at church, Stephan, a Canadian living most of the year with his divorced mom in Vancouver, started officially dating Charity, an adorable brunette with beautiful green eyes and “striking features” as uncle Rico would say. That “relationship” if you can call it that, lasted a total of six months. The last half of which, Stephan was completely incommunicable. See some time between December of 92 and July of 93 he and a couple of the more rambunctious kids (*cough, cough* - me - *cough*) trashed the youth room in good fun. Streamed toilet paper, performed some Sharpie graffiti, etc. Stephan did a couple more destructive things and one of the elders in the church kind of threw a fit about it. His mom was totally embarrassed and they switched churches. Shortly after, I’m told, he went to live with his dad in Canada who lacked all sense of disciplining when it came to his son. I later found out he got into a lot of trouble in high school and completely lost track of him after that. But back in December, I played matchmaker between Stephan and Charity, even though I liked her very much, I knew they both liked each other, so against my better judgment I helped the two introverts get together. However, in July of 1993, at the now famous Jesus Northwest festival, Charity and I admitted to each other just how much we liked one another via a round of “Truth or Dare”. Her biological father died when she was 5 years old and, as I soon came to find out, she was now a missionary’s daughter. So after we had been dating for about 9 months she moved to Budapest, Hungary and was there for 5+ years. It was just about the most agonizing point in my life when she left. Dan gave me chickenpox which conveniently onset the day before she left so I did not get to say goodbye at the airport. Instead I stayed home scratching bursting pustules and tonguing the back of my throat wishing I were dead. For weeks I played Michael W. Smith’s “Somebody Love Me” on repeat, crying into my pillow. After the first 18 months, she came back to the states roughly once every year. Sometimes only for a couple weeks, sometimes for months at a shot. We e-mailed daily and phoned monthly so we kept in touch pretty well. She came back for good May of 1998 and I am glad she did. Many people react quite surprised when I explain we’d been dating for years since we were 13 and 14 years old and that it had been a long-distance relationship for most of the 5 years. When she first left for Budapest, I needed something to fill this enormous void in my life. Jay, the in-house “Weird Al” guy I was telling you about, was about thirty years old, married and had I believe only one kid at the time he found out I was desperate to learn the guitar. One Sunday he presented me with an old acoustic with terrible action, 5 strings and a flower pattern pick guard. “If you can learn on this guitar, later you’ll be able to play ANY guitar,” he bragged of the oddities. Over the course of the few months or so he’d give me lessons twice a month on how to form basic chords and play along with some worship tunes. He even showed me the basics on deciphering songs off CD’s or the radio. Yes, CD’s were transitioning in at this point. I spent all my time, energy and efforts on learning how to play and spent all my money on new and better equipment. I now have quite an array of guitars and guitar-related toys. It has become the ultimate form of expression for me. I was the first of my friends to start playing an instrument that could be used in youth worship teams and garage bands alike. Others followed closely behind me. Kevin L. was an extremely skinny, acne-covered boy my age. He had a voice that cracked very loudly most of the way through high school. The voice cracking pitch differential was so extreme that I used to think he was choking when it happened. His dad was the one whose CD collection sprouted from 10 to 400 overnight. Kevin took up the bass and his brother Chris got in to racecar driving. Their mother had been slowly dying at home for years from cancer I believe. I think music is what Kevin and his dad both used to cope with the process. Kevin’s dad once put on a “Music Night”. He invited all the youth from the church to come over to his house and listen to his CD collection. The wall of music was literally an entire wall in his living room covered in Christian Contemporary music. He averaged 5 or 6 new CD’s a week. No one was allowed to touch the CD’s or the stereo. We had to ask him to put on discs for us. He had one old computer set up that would only play Pong and a couple different varieties of Lay’s potato chips. We all pretended not to see the woman in the wheel chair in the back corner of the room with 17 different machines attached to her and the breathing tubes cutting across the carpet. Kevin took up the bass about the time that my dad did in what must’ve been late 1993 or early 1994. He never had any sense of timing and was always content to just play the roots. He didn’t appreciate anyone suggesting to him he might try to play something more than that. To say Kevin was clumsy would be the understatement of the decade. I once watched Kevin get stuck in his own coat one winter. My three year old does that occasionally and it’s cute. With Kevin, it was just sad. At water ski camp Kevin nearly drowned in two and a half feet of water when seaweed wrapped around the big tow on his left foot. He’s the only person I’ve actually witnessed hang his head out the back window of car at highway speeds and swallow a wasp. Derek H. must have arrived at our youth group around late ‘93/early ’94. If Kevin existed in a completely opposite parallel universe, he would have been Derek. One of the regulars first brought his brother Dean Hiebert, who was a classically trained piano player and who to this day is pretty still amazing. Derek played a crappy Wal-Mart brand black strat copy electric guitar through a $45 Gorilla amplifier. He used to play these really high notes heavily distorted that I liked to compare to the torturous experiments of felines. Derek was eye candy for every girl in our youth group when he joined. Before him, I held that position, and while I had a steady girlfriend, I didn’t appreciate him squatting on my turf. He was tall and tan and handsome. He talked like a surfer from San Diego and had a cool job (comparatively) at the local pizzeria. I switched to electric guitar for youth group worship a week or two before Derek showed up with his. Derek was two years my senior and while I thought myself the better guitar player, he knew a couple of songs on the local secular alternative rock radio station (“Say it Ain’t So” by Weezer and “Big Me” by Foo Fighters”). He played them at get-togethers and all the girls sang along like some kind of really sappy deodorant commercial or something. And I’d have the distinct privilege of listening to their comments as he rode away on his skateboard. Derek eventually signed up in the Army reserves, and when he got back from boot camp, went to Bible School. He met a young woman that was the nurse at a youth camp he was counseling. They got married and he became the youth pastor at our church eventually. They have one kid, a daughter, named Gretchen. He’s changed a lot since the Gorilla days. Literally pulled a 180 on us. Back in high school he had an orange Camaro that we used to all pile in to and blast the stereo and terrorize around town in. It’s because of Derek I was ever turned on to ska and punk music, for which I owe him (take that any way you want). It wasn’t so much that Dan knew how to play keyboards, as he had a keyboard. An Alesis Quadrasynth (I remember it like it was yesterday). MIDI capable even. Before then he dabbled on Casio and Yamaha $100 toy keyboards. When I got my first electric guitar for Christmas of 1993 he came over Christmas night and brought his keyboard. My new guitar was a Peavey Predator. A red strat copy that my parents bought for me. For $300 they got the guitar, a Peavey Audition 110 amplifier, a strap, two packs of strings, a gig bag, a pack of picks, and three free lessons from the local guitar wizard. We went up into my attic-converted-bedroom of downtown ghetto Vancouver and played the only song we could play together (“Spirit Thing” by the Newsboys) for about 3 and a half hours. We imagined we would start a band like Petra someday. We named our band, titled our first 7 albums, even drew out a stage plot of where we would stand and how we would look with the huge lights of Jesus Northwest shining down on us. It took less than a year from the time Jay had given me that first guitar for him to help us start our first band. “Jonah and the Wailers” we called ourselves. Get it? Wail-ers? Wailing on the guitar? Get it? Anyway, Jay played guitar in the group and sang. Kevin on bass, Derek and I on guitar, a friend of Jay’s named Bob who was in his 50’s at the time and had a hunchback (but is to this day still an amazing drummer), and I convinced them to take in Dan as a keyboard player. That’s when he bought the Quadrasynth. We practiced for a couple of months once a week and then performed at a church talent show. Along the course of those couple of months I won (yes I won) a guitar in an online contest put on by Gibson and Compuserve. Not just any guitar. A Gibson Centenniel Les Paul worth about $10,000. Solid gold hardware, diamond inlays speckling the guitar throughout, solid mahogany body, and dual P-90 pickups tuned to perfection. I brought it to the talent show for our first ever performance. I also used my paper delivering money to buy a new amplifier: a Peavey 50 Classic 410 combo just like Jay’s (which I still use to this day). After we got everything set up, all the guitars and amps put on stage and drums and mic stands and everything, it was so beautiful it almost made me cry so I took a bunch of pictures. We played a cover of Greenbaum’s “Spirit in the Sky”, and Dakota Motor Company’s “Trip to Pain.” We also had two originals that Dan and I wrote together and I think we rearranged a worship tune too. Sometime during the “show” Kevin got so into….into whatever it was he was doing over there…that he bashed the headstock of his bass against the floor and the whole neck came flying off the bass like those wild untamed monkeys on the discover channel fly from tree to tree screaming at the top of their lungs and flinging their own poo. It made the most horrendous sound any of us had ever heard. I remember thinking Armageddon was coming when it happened. Luckily it was toward the end of the song so people just assumed it was like a late Beatles kind of an ending or something till they noticed half of Kevin’s bass was hanging on to the other half around his neck only by the four thick metal strings and the look on Kevin’s face said he did not do it on purpose ala Pete Townsend. He stepped up to a microphone and asked, over the PA, if he could borrow my dad’s bass, to which my dad adamantly declined. That was the most awkward silence I’ve ever experienced. He muttered something about it being a cold day in Hades under his breath. I actually played bass for the one remaining song anyway, because it was too hard for Kevin, who we put on tambourine duty, so I used my dad’s bass to play it. Shortly after Kevin’s mom finally passed. Kevin’s dad remarried a month later and moved him and the boys out to Oregon City where they found a different church. He called me once, years later, from Japan about a year after I was married. I understand he was actually kicked out of the Army and Marines before he finally made it through a Navy boot camp. He seemed to be enjoying the lifestyle and, at 21, his voiced still cracked when he talked. Jonah and the Wailers pretty much broke up after that show. Never practiced again, never did another show. Dan and I still wrote songs. He did most of the lyrics while I wrote most of the music. Once we had about 6 or 7 finished tunes we went to Kevin K., the local computer/music guru. Kevin had produced, engineered, mixed, mastered and provided the instrumentation for a complete album that he cut to CD himself. He performed live once at our church. His keyboard rack provided all the background instrumentation. Drums, keys, bass, synth sounds, etc. And he played a guitar with, what I would later come to realize the guitar enthusiast community referred to as “ice pick” distortion. Dan and I only wanted to make a demo of the music we had so we could hear it on tape and it was clear that Kevin K. was the guy to help us. The only problem was that neither one of us could really sing. We recorded a couple of tunes with him regardless and I think I wound up singing at least one of them. He later worked with a guy named Bart out in Scapoose, OR that had a professional studio and Dan and I came to observe the process. That was my first and last taste of the recording studio for a very long time. The next three years, till I was about a junior in high school, I’ve come to refer to as “The Garage Era” of my life. Sometime in ’95 or early ‘96, a guy who had been a friend of mine for several years named Adam started talking about taking up the drums. A couple guys before him had made this claim as well and had not followed through so I was skeptical at best when he first mentioned it, given the cost associated with taking up such a spendy and space-consuming instrument. Adam was two years younger than me and had/has what I like to call an addictive personality. See, when Adam finds something new that he enjoys, he throws himself into it. Snowboarding, golf, crossword puzzles, poker, drums…you name it. The guy becomes engulfed. But, to his credit, he’s also one of these characters that just oozes cool out of every pore in his body. Most of us can do something incredibly stupid, and people will gauk and call us stupid. As they should. But with Adam, something is only stupid until he’s seen doing it. Then it becomes a trend. The guy can’t do anything wrong for some reason. In junior high he gave himself a reverse Mohawk (fairly long hair except for a thick shaved strip up the center) and everybody loved it. In high school he walked around in shoes completely covered in orange duct tape. And the closer you get to knowing him, the more you become aware that the guy speaks primarily utilizing inside jokes. He hops from one to another, and then eventually starts chaining them together until he’s babbling seemingly incoherent sentences that make absolutely no sense to an outsider looking in. Should you happen to be around as the inside jokes develop and can deconstruct the pattern to make some sort of sense though, you’ll be laughing in stitches for hours and even find yourself communicating in this retarded sort of pig latin. Anyway, it didn’t take long for Adam to get good enough at the drums before we started playing together. Sometimes under the official-ness of a “band”, often times just the two of us playing whatever came to mind at the time (a.k.a. “jamming”). Derek and Kevin L. and Dan were often part of these off-the-cuff bands and jam sessions, though Dan didn’t really play anything, it wasn’t for lack of trying. First keys, then guitar, and eventually he even quit the bass. He did write a lot and have lots of great ideas for image, special effects, arrangements, etc. Dan eventually got involved with video production heavily and Kevin of course moved away, which pretty much forced me to become a decent bass player, which Kevin had already motivated to do anyway. I used my dad’s gear often at these get-togethers. We were just teenagers making noise and having fun. It was during this time we probably attended a concert or two every month, both independent and signed bands ranging in venues from underground clubs in the ghettos to the Rose Garden (where the Blazers play). Lots of pizza, video rentals, lots of overnighters, video games, dreaming of the future of “our band”, impromptu wrestling matches, and late night talking of girls, sex, the scary abyss of the future and the ever-looming question that everyone over 30 always wants to know the answer to…what would we do with our lives? A question some of us are still asking ourselves and the “adults” have stopped trying to get an answer for. Towards the end of the Garage Era, as I transitioned from sophomore to junior in high school, Dan and I got involved in an organization called Pro Youth. See, there was a man who led worship at our church named Mike C.. Custer was a guitar playing genius that had both the head knowledge and the feel. You could argue that Jay’s “feel” for the instrument was stronger, more intuitive and fluid, but Mike just had a way of leading worship. He knew how to bring out the emotion in every song. And Mike Custer played a very large role for Pro Youth. He was the worship leader. Anywhere Pro Youth went, they had a worship band and an enormous PA system because they inevitably would always have thousands of kids at any event. And Mike had the distinction of being “The Pro Youth Worship Leader”. It’s hard to convey in words just how impacting that was to our youth group, and the church-attending kids in the entire Portland metro area. But suffice it to say, he was like a local celebrity. Anywhere he went kids spotted him and recognized him. He had/has a voice that’s as smooth and creamy as butter and a way with the guitar that seduced the senses. He can talk for hours on any subject and speak like an expert. And this relatively short Italian with a mustache ala Mario & Luigi could shred on the guitar given the opportunity. Every time Pro Youth had an event, he was tasked with organizing the entire worship structure, forming the band, picking the songs, arranging them, establishing practices, etc. And sometime between my sophomore and junior years, I too became a permanent fixture with Mike C. The drummers, keyboardists, horn players, BGV’s, and additional guitarists would all change from event to event. But I became Mike’s favorite bass player and a staple on the worship team. He stretched me to the degree I was actually pretty good by the end there. Some events were 4 or 5 days long in locations as luxurious as fancy hotels and walking around throughout the week was a bit like being royalty. Make no mistake, I worked my fingers to the bone for Pro Youth pulling cable, stage setup, spotlight and camera operation, soundboard stuff and inevitably I was always there for load-in and load-out, lifting the monstrously heavy and very expensive equipment in ways that would probably give me hernias today (as was Dan, who got roped in to being the video production guy there for awhile). But when I was there on stage playing for the built-in crowds, I was often flooded by kids (mostly guys – bass players) that wanted to know how they could get their time on stage or how I played a certain riff or whatever. It’s quite possible, especially at the larger events, that the attention went to my head. And while pride was probably a concern, ego never was. My self-esteem was far too low for other reasons. Once Derek joined the Army, Dan and I got respectable jobs working in the IT industry and many of the other friends we had moved away, went to college, or got involved with people and things that drug them away from the church scene. When I graduated from high school in 1998 I remember thinking I was very much alone at that time. Dan had started going to another church for his own reasons and Adam was hanging out with friends his own age still in high school. Luckily Charity moved back permanently from Budapest just in time to attend my graduation. I proposed to her a couple weeks after graduation and we were married in July of 1999. Shortly after, Pro Youth almost completely disbanded. Mike and I left and most everyone else I knew in the organization left when its founder left the parent company to strike out on their own doing a completely different type of ministry. During the early years of my marital engagement to Charity, Mike C. got together with another guy named Mike Honholz and several other people that called Harvest Community Church of Camas, WA home. Camas is a small town 20 miles East of Vancouver. This was by far the largest group I’d ever been involved with. There was a lead singer who played acoustic guitar, a lead guitar player who played a really nice Les Paul through a Marshall half stack and used a $700 effects processor, Mike C. who played a rhythm/lead jellyfish kind of role on an acoustic/electric guitar and sang backup and lead, a piano/keyboard player, a male BGV, three female BGV’s, a sax player, a drummer/percussionist and me on bass. That’s 11 pieces if you can believe that and on top of that, it was some of the hardest music I’ve ever had to play. We took Vineyard and Maranatha recordings and made them even harder, rearranging, re-writing and harmonizing in ways that astounded me. Things were going really well until one day the male BGV singer who was mid-twenties came in to practice and told us that God had spoken to him. Yes, like audibly. He told us God said to him that this group was going to go amazing places and do amazing things and we’d all be singing and playing on enormous stages for thousands of people and then proceeded to tell us how exactly we could accomplish this. It didn’t even take a week before Mike and I left the group after that. The goal had been to put on a show for a local prison and after Mike and I left the whole group fell apart. Well Mike, not wanting the ministry to suffer, got the drummer and sax player together and we kept practicing and did that show just the four of us. Larch Mountain Correctional Facility was an amazing show where we got to share the gospel and had a great response. I believe the Lord was pleased with the results and I’m grateful to have been a part of that endeavor. In 2000 and 2001 Mike C. and I got together to do some private stuff. Kind of rolling with the momentum from the Larch Mountain show. I was still exclusively playing bass, so had purchased my own gear by this time. A gig here, a show there. Doing a combination of covers, worship, and originals for various audiences. About half of those times we used Adam Armstrong on drums, who was going through a weird phase with a girl at the time, and the other half of those times we used a guy named George. While I was now 20 years old, George couldn’t have been more than 28. George was and probably still is the best technical drummer I’ve ever played with, though I’ve always preferred playing with Adam just because I’m more “in tune” with him. It’s a hard concept to explain. Anyway, George had done something I never thought was possible. Towards the latter half of the shows with Mike C., George had told me that he took a whole year off from working, took out an enormous loan, bought a bunch of recording equipment, wrote ten or eleven songs, produced them and tracked a demo. It was harder stuff. Edgier rock to be sure. Mike started slowing down a little bit with the shows since Harvest Community had asked him to become part-time paid staff as their worship leader so he was looking for a break when George brought this up. He asked me to play bass for him and I said I would because I enjoyed the music from the demo. He said there was a club in Estacada, a farming community with a small downtown of sorts about an hour from Vancouver. He knew the owner/promoter personally and they had bands there all the time. It was a Christian Youth club with an “under 19” requirement. The guy who ran it said George could come and play his material any time. So I rounded up Adam to play drums and the three of us played for about 6 months while I also attended night school 3 nights a week and Charity gracefully sauntered through her first and second trimester alone for the most part. The only shows we ever had were at this youth club, and we probably only played there 4 times or so. Still it was fun. And I got to play with Adam again which I always enjoyed. It was the hardest music we’d played live since the garage days and it was nice for us both to be able to let loose on the rock scene again. That club eventually closed down after a member of the church footing the bill to run the place discovered he ‘allowed’ kids to smoke outside in the back. It was after George that my musical tastes really started to broaden. For some reason more and more opportunities within the church were arising. There had always been the occasional special event that needed a band and both Adam and I were often willing to oblige. But right about here is where the Christmas specials, Easter specials, ice cream socials, Valentines Day sock hops, talent shows, chili cook-offs, weddings, memorial services, etc seemed to really ramp up for some reason. Perhaps God was just keeping our chops up. It seemed like every month there for awhile there was some event that required significant time and effort in the group setting to give a decent playing for. Adam was engaged and towards the end of this time (2002-2003) had gotten married. As all this was happening I started listening more and more to different and new types of music. And my taste for the lighter and darker sides of rock and roll were both intrigued and it was also at this time, God really placed a yearning in my heart to do something significant with my ability to play music. Something more than just worship and church banquets. I prayed every night that He would use me, in any way He wished, to have an effective ministry for Him. It was about a month or two later, that I got the call.

Calling Shotgun

2005-08-01T14:44:00.000-07:00

BREAKING NEWS!!!

It has been brought to my attention just this afternoon that the presence of everybody being outside, just before you step into the car, is not a prerequisite to calling shotgun as the new improved official rules of shotgun have finally been posted.

As quoted from www.shotgunrules.com:

"Some people choose to use a variation of this rule and require that all occupants be out of the building before Shotgun can be called. This does not work. It leads to everyone calling Shotgun at the same time and often ends in physical violence. "

I consider this to be the final word on the matter and will no longer continue to make the extended concession for those that "dilly-daddle" leaving before I can call "shotgun".

In a Nutshell: My Guitar Playing Idealogy & Lists

2005-08-01T10:03:00.000-07:00

I'm fairly young, so philosophical discussions about something as enigmatic as guitar tone rarely reach a point in my mind where I'm ready to make a public statement about what I think. But I've plateaued at this fundamental philosophy and I think I've found a place where I can stake my claim.

THE GUITAR TONE SOJOURN
I'm 24 now. Started playing the axe when I was 14. Young in age and young in experience relatively speaking. I've owned, borrowed, and traded for nearly every major type of guitar, amp and piece of tone-shaping equipment I could get my hands on over the past 10 years and I've come to one, inescapable conclusion:

That 90% of everything I want tonally simply does not matter to the ears, minds and hearts of 90% of the listeners of my music. What's more, they don't hear what I hear, even if it does matter to them. And what's even MORE, is that the ones that it does matter to, they realize that they're not hearing what I'm hearing because they're like me, so they make concessions for it.

Please allow me to explain. I would wager the supermajority of listeners to my music, are not musicians at all, much less guitar players. These individuals don't recognize different types of guitar tones consciously and as such, so long as the tone is not incredibly offensive to their listening, they don't catch the nuances of different amps, guitars, rack gear, pedals, etc. Thus, they don't care and don't even realize they don't care.

Of the percentage that are guitarists or guitar enthusiasts, most of them likely fall into the category of "not experienced enough to know the difference between good guitar tone and lousy tone" (for whatever reason be it too mid-rangy, ice pick distortion, muddiness, etc). Of course good vs. lousy is subjective anyway and impossible to quantify, but I think in-general forums like this one have a pretty consensus taste of what good tone sounds like. But quantifying what "good" tone is, is not my objective here. Suffice it to say though, they're level of caring and attention to such details is nearly as irrelevant as the non-musician.

So that leaves an extraordinary minority of guitarists and guitar enthusiasts that happen to hear my music and will pay close attention to the guitar parts. I put myself in this category of listener. It's not ALL I focus on, but I do tend to notice. Now technique is one thing, and I won't go there today. Today I'm talking about tone. When I listen to a recording, or hear a guitar at a live venue, I'm doing just that. Evaluating the tone. But as I evaluate it, I'm also thinking to myself that this guitar is going through a series of rack gear and/or pedals, into an amp of some fashion or another, being mic'd by the PA, going through a mixing board, through another series of effects to power amps and through another series of speakers. As I think about that I try to ascertain what aspects of the tonal quality I'm hearing are contributed to which components along this chain. If I don't like it, there could be a hundred reasons why and it may or may not necessarily have anything to do with the guitarists tonal tendencies. Thus it's hard to pinpoint if the tone I'm hearing is "good" or "lousy" and why. So I make mental concessions for anything I feel is lacking in the sound. It's even worse on an album through a stereo. There's an even longer chain of equipment and sound reproduction going on there.

So in the end, I find myself wondering who really cares?!?! If in the end I have no real control most of the time over how good or how lousy it sounds, why bother? The answer is simple. I care. Let's face it...most of the money spent and time & effort invested into this is for our own sakes. WE want it to sound the way we like. Because the people that listen to our music, most of the time don't hear what we hear. But they like it all the same. It puts ridiculous, unquantifiable debates like "tube vs. solid state" and "valvestate vs. modeling" and "single coils vs. humbuckers" into perspective a little bit for me. In the end, it really only comes down to me. I can't blame the masses for my obsessive compulsive search for a great tone. Because they just don't care like I do.

How many of us have bought gear because we wanted to impress, one-up, or simply avoid the nagging teases from fellow guitarists when we play out? What kind of reason is that? I personally am going to try to make a conscious effort to spend less time worrying about the tone of my guitar, and more time worrying about the quality of writing both when I play...and when I listen.

:Bazooka-Joe

Gear I've Owned:
Electric Guitars:
Peavey Predator (bought from Beacocks/present from parents, ca. 1994) - Sill have
Yamaha Pacifica 112 (bought from Kevin @Hudsons Bay, ca. 1996) - still have 1995
Gibson Les Paul Centenniel (won from Compuserve contest, 1950's re-issue) - sold on consignment via Beacocks ca. 1999
Fender Stratocaster (gift from parents, Mexican, ca. 1997) - sold 2004, ebay
Gibson Nighthawk Custom (borrowed long-term from Derek, 2003-2004) - returned to Derek, late 2004
Carvin SC90S (bought from factory, 2004) - returned, 2004
Gibson Nighthawk Landmark (bought off ebay, ca. 1994) - still have

Acoustic Guitars:
Yamaha (gift, dreadnaught, from David) - still have
Oscar Schmidt (bought in '96 for school) - sold to friend
Ibanez cutaway/pickup (traded PA equipment to JR [Jay's friend] for) - sold to uncle, 2004
Ventura flowerprint pickguard (borrowed from friend, 1994) - returned to Jay [first guitar ever]
Bass Guitars:Fender Squier Jazz (bought from Eric) - Adam has? or Dan?
Samick 5-string (bought on eBay, ca. 2000) - sold on ebay, 2004
Yamaha RBX765A 5-string (gift from parents ca. 2000/01) - sold to Mike, 2005

Bass Amps:
Peavey Mark VI (bought ca. 1999) - sold on ebay, 2004
Peavey 115 cabinet (bought ca. 1999) - sold on ebay, 2004
Peavey 210 cabinet (bought ca. 1999) - sold on ebay, 2004
Peavey TKO 115 (sort of inherited from dad, ca. 1999/2000) - traded to Mike for pedals

Guitar Amps:
Peavey 110 Audition (gift from parents, Beacocks, ca. 1994) - traded in Beacocks, ca. 1994/95
Peavey Stereo Chorus 212 (trade-in buy, Beacocks, ca. 1995) - traded in Beacocks, ca. 1995/96
Peavey 50 Classic 410 (trade-in buy, Beacocks, ca. 1995/96) - still have
Line 6 Pod XT preamp & foot controller (bought, Guitar Center, 2004) - returned 2004, Guitar Center
Marshall VS100H head (bought, craigslist.org (david), 2005) - sold to new music store in SE PDX 4/05
Fender GE-412 cabinet (bought, craigslist.org (david), 2005) - sold to new music store in SE PDX 4/05
Unknown brand silverface 112 (from Jay with microphone & stand) - Adam has? or Dan?

Stompboxes:
Yamaha Overdrive (given from Kevin, ca. 1994) - lost, ca. 1995
Yamaha Flanger (given from Kevin, ca. 1994) - lost, ca. 1995
Zoom 1010 multi-effects unit (present from parents, ca. 1994/95) - still have
Boss PS-2 Pitch Shift/Delay (bought, Beacocks, ca. 1994) - broke and lost, ca. 1995/96
Boss TU-2 Tuner (bought, Guitar Center, 2003) - still have
Boss MT-2 Metal Zone (bought, John, 2003) - sold, ebay, 2004
Boss LS-2 Line Selector (bought, Guitar Center, 2004) - sold, ebay, 2004
D.O.D. or Dunlop? Passive volume (bought, Beacocks, ca. 1994) - broke and lost
D.O.D. Digital Delay/Sampler (traded TKO bass amp to Mike, 2003) - broke, still have
D.O.D. Super Stereo Chorus (traded TKO bass amp to Mike, 2003) - dad has
D.O.D. Compressor/Limiter (traded TKO bass amp to Mike, 2003) - Jay is borrowing
D.O.D. Ice Box Chorus (traded dad for my DOD chorus, 2003) - sold, ebay, 2004
D.O.D. Bass Compressor (can't remember if dad or I bought, ca. 1997/98) - dad has
Marshall Shredmaster (traded TKO bass amp to Mike, 2003) - still have
Dunlop original Crybaby Wah (bought, Beacocks, ca. 1995) - still have, needs work
Dunlop Crybaby Wah (bought, Apple Music, 3/2005) - still have
Morley PVO Volume (bought, Beacocks, ca. 1997/98) - broke, still have
Danelectro Tuna Melt Tremolo (bought ebay, 2003) - sold, ebay, 2004
Danelectro Fish & Chips 7-band EQ (bought, ebay, 2004) - still have
Line 6 DM-4 (bought, Guitar Center used, 2004) - traded, custompedalboards.com, 2005
Line 6 MM-4 (bought, Guitar Center used, 2004) - still have
Line 6 DM-4 (bought again, eBay, used, 4/2005) - still have
Digitech Digidelay (bought, Guitar Center, 2004) - still have
Ernie Ball VP Jr. Volume (bought, Guitar Center, 2005) - still have

Other:
Samson Airline Wireless UHF (bought craigslist, 2004) - still have
Dunlop DC Brick (bought Guitar Center, 2004) - traded in at Guitar Center +cash for Delay pedal and Pedal Power 2
Voodoo Labs Pedal Power II (bought, Guitar Center, 2004) - still have
Custom Pedalboard from http://www.custompedalboards.com/ (traded my first Line 6 DM-4, 3/2005) - still have

Most Personally Influential Guitarists:
Christian Music Guitarists
1. Bob Hartman (petra)
2. Barry Blaire (audio audrenaline)
3. Jon Foreman (switchfoot)
4. Brian Wooten (whiteheart)
5. Matt Thiesen & Matt Hoopes (reliant k)
6. Oran Thornton (johnny q public)
7. Phil Keaggy
8. Joel Hanson (pfr)
9. Mark Lee (third day)
10. Jerome Fontamillas (switchfoot)
Honorable Mention: Michael Sweet

Studio Guitarists
1. Dan Huff
2. Wayne Kirkpatrick
3. Mark Townsend

Modern Secular Music Guitarists
1. The Edge (u2)
2. Gavin Rossdale (bush)
3. Joe Satriani
4. Eddie VanHalen (van halen)
5. Brian Bell (weezer)
6. Tom DeLonge (blink 182)
7. Slash (guns n roses)
8. Eric Clapton
9. Art Alexakis (everclear)
10. Stevie Ray Vaughn

Classic Secular Music Guitarists
1. Jimmy Page (led zep)
2. Brian May (queen)
3. Joe Walsh (eagles/aerosmith)
4. David Gilmore (pink floyd)
5. Lindsey Buckingham (fleetwood mac)
6. Elliott Randall (steely dan)
7. Scotty Moore (elvis presley)
8. George Harrison (beatles)
9. Alex Zivojinovich (rush)
10. Jimi Hendrix
11. Pete Townsend (the who)

Favorite Guitar Solos:
1. "Stairway to Heaven" Jimmy Page, Led Zepplin (Zepplin IV)
2. "Eruption" Eddie Van Halen, Van Halen (Van Halen)
3. "Free Bird" Allen Collins, Gary Rossington, Lynrd Skynrd (Pronounced Leh-nerd Skin-nerd)
4. "Comfortably Numb" David Gilmour, Pink Floyd {The Wall)
5. "All Along The Watchtower" Jimi Hendrix, The Jimi Hendrix Experience (Electric Ladyland)
6. "November Rain" Slash, Guns n' Roses (Use Your Illusion I)
7. "One" Kirk Hammet, Metallica (...And Justice For All)
8. "Hotel California" Don Felder, Joe Walsh, The Eagles (Hotel California)
9. "Crazy Train" Randy Rhodes, Ozzy Osbourne (Blizzard of Ozz)
10. "Crossroads" Eric Clapton, Cream (Wheels of Fire)
11. "Voodoo Child (Slight Return)" Jimi Hendrix, The J.H. Experience (Electric Ladyland)
12. "Johnny B. Goode" Chuck Berry, Chuck Berry (His Best, Volume One)
13. "Texas Flood" Stevie Ray Vaughan, Stevie Ray Vaughan (Texas Flood)
14. "Layla" Eric Clapton, Duane Allman, Derek and the Dominos (Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs)
15. "Floods" Dimebag Darrell, Pantera (The Great Southern Trendkill)
16. "Heartbreaker" Jimmy Page, Led Zepplin (Led Zepplin II)
17. "Cliffs of Dover" Eric Johnson, Eric Johnson (Ah Via Musicom)
18. "Little Wing" Jimi Hendrix, The J.H. Experience (Axis: Bold as Love)
19. "Highway Star" Ritchie Blackmore, Deep Purple (Machine Head)
20. "Bohemian Rhapsody" Brian May, Queen (A NIght at the Opera)
21. "Time" David Gilmour, Pink Floyd (Dark Side of the Moon)
22. "Sultans of Swing" Mark Knopfler, Dire Straights (Dire Straights)
23. "Bulls on Parade" Tom Morello, Rage Against the Machine (Evil Empire)
24. "Fade to Black" Kirk Hammett, Metallica (Ride the Lightning)
25. "Aqua Lung" Martin Barre, Jethro Tull (Aqualung)
26. "Smells Like Teen Spirit" Kurt Cobain, Nirvana (Nevermind)

NOTE: I would like to replace Cobain's solo here with:26. "Always With You, Always With Me" Joe Satriani

27. "Pride and Joy" Stevie Ray Vaughan, Stevie Ray Vaughan (Texas Flood)
28. "Mr. Crowley" Randy Rhodes, Ozzy Osbourne (Blizzard of Ozz)
29. "For the Love of God" Steve Vai, Steve Vai (Passion & Warfare)
30. "Surfing with the Alien" Joe Satriani, Joe Satriani (Surfing with the Alien)
31. "Stranglehold" Ted Nugent, Ted Nugent (Ted Nugent)
32. "Machine Gun" Jimi Hendrix, Jimi Hendrix (Band of Gypsys)
33. "The Thrill is Gone" B.B. King, B.B. King (Completely Well)
34. "Paranoid Android" Johnny Greenwood, Radiohead (OK Computer)
35. "Cemetary Gates" Dimbag Darrell, Pantera (Cowboys from Hell)
36. "Black Star" Yngwie Malmsteen, Yngwie Malmsteen (Rising Force)
37. "Sweet Child o' Mine" Slash, Guns n' Roses (Appetite for Destruction)
38. "Whole Lotta Love" Jimmy Page, Led Zepplin (Led Zepplin II)
39. "Cortez the Killer" Neil Young, Neil Young (Zuma)
40. "Reelin' in the Years" Elliott Randall, Steely Dan (Can't Buy a Thrill)
41. "Brighton Rock" Brian May, Queen (Sheer Heart Attack)
42. "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" Eric Clapton, The Beatles (The Beatles)
43. "Sharp Dressed Man" Billy Gibbons, ZZ Top (Eliminator)
44. "Alive" Mike McCready, Pearl Jam (Ten)
45. "Light My Fire" Robby Krieger, The Doors (The Doors)
46. "Hot For Teacher" Eddie Van Halen, Van Halen (1984)
47. "Jessica" Dickey Betts, The Allman Brothers Band (Brothers and Sisters)
48. "Sympathy for the Devil" Keith Richards, The Rolling Stones (Beggar's Banquet)
49. "Europa" Carlos Santana, Carlos Santana (Amigos)
50. "Shock Me" Ace Frehley, Kiss (Alive II)
51. "Master of Puppets" Kirk Hammett, Metallica (Master of Puppets)
52. "Star Spangled Banner" Jimi Hendrix, Jimi Hendrix (The Ultimate Experience)

NOTE: I would like to Hendrix's Star Spangled Banner solo further up (top 25).

53. "Since I've Been Loving You" Jimmy Page, Led Zepplin (Led Zepplin III)
54. "Geek USA" Billy Corgan, Smashing Pumpkins (Siamese Dream)
55. "Satch Boogie" Joe Satriani, Joe Satriani (Surfing with the Alien)
56. "War Pigs" Tony Iommi, Black Sabboth (Paranoid)
57. "Walk" Dimebag Darrell, Pantera (Vulgar Display of Power)
58. "Cocaine" Eric Clapton, Eric Clapton (Slowhand)
59. "You Really Got Me" Dave Davies, The Kinks (The Best of The Kinks, Vol. 1)
60. "Zoot Allures" Frank Zappa, Frank Zappa (Zoot Allures)
61. "No More Tears" Zakk Wyld, Ozzy Osbourne (No More Tears)
62. "Money" David Gilmour, Pink Floyd (Dark Side of the Moon)
63. "Black Hole Sun" Kim Thayil, Soundgarden (Superunknown)
64. "Little Red Corvette" Prince, Prince (1999)65. "In Bloom" Kurt Cobain, Nirvana (Nevermind)

Note: I would like to replace Cobain's solo here with:65. "Powerhouse" Brian Wooten, White Heart (Powerhouse)

66. "Blue Sky" Duane Allman & Dickey Betts, The Allman Brothers Band (Eat a Peach)
67. "Beat It" ???, Michael Jackson (Thriller)
68. "Starship Troopers" Steve Howe, Yes (The Yes Album)
69. "And Your Bird Can Sing" George Harrison, The Beatles (Revolver)
70. "Purple Haze" Jimi Hendrix, Jimi Hendrix (Are you Experienced?)

NOTE: I would move the Purple Haze solo further up (top 20) as well.

71. "Maggot Brain" Eddie Hazel, Funkadelic (Maggot Brain)
72. "Walk This Way" Joe Perry, Aerosmith (Toys in the Attick)
73. "Stash" Trey Anastasio, Phish (Picture of Nectar)
74. "Lazy" Richie Blackmore, Deep Purple (Machine Head)
75. "Wont Get Fooled Again" Pete Townshend, The Who (Who's Next?)
76. "Cinnamon Girl" Neil Young, Neil Young & Crazy Horse (Everybody Knows This is Nowhere)
77. "Man in the Box" Jerryt Cantrell, Alice in Chains (Facelift)
78. "Truckin'" Jerry Garcia, Grateful Dead (American Beauty)
79. "Mean Street" Eddie Van Halen, Van Halen (Fair Warning)
80. "You Shook Me All night Long" Angus Young, AC/DC (Back in Black)
81. "Sweet Jane" Steve Hunter& Dick Wagner, Lou Reed (Rock & Roll Animal)
82. "21st Century Schizoid Man" Robert Fripp, King Crimson (In the Court of the Crimson King) 83. "Scuttle Buttin'" Stevie Ray Vaughan, Stevie Ray Vaughan (Couldn't Stand the Weather)
84. "Santeria" Brad Nowell, Sublime (Sublime)
85. "Moonage Daydream" Mick Ronson, David Bowie (The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust)
86. "Whipping Post" Duane Allman & Dickey Betts, The Allman Brothers Band (At Fillmore East)
87. "Cult of Personality" Vernon Reid, Living Colour (Vivid)
88. "Kid Charlemagne" Denny Dias, Steely Dan (The Royal Scam)
89. "Killing in the Name of" Tom Morello, Rage Against the Machine (Rage Against the machine) 90. "Let it Rain" Eric Clapton, Eric Clapton (Eric Clapton)
91. "Heard it through the Grapevine" John Fogerty, Creedence Clearwater Revival (Cosmo's Factory)
92. "Stray Cat Strut" Brian Setzer, Stray Cats (Built for speed)
93. "The End" Robby Krieger, The Doors (The Doors)
94. "Working Man" Alex Lifeson, Rush (Rush)
95. "Yellow Ledbetter" Mike McCready, Pearl Jam (Jeremy{UK})
96. "Honkey Tonk Women" Keith Richards, The Rolling Stones (Hot Rocks 1964)
97. "Cherub Rock" Billy Corgan, Smashing Pumpkins
98. "Under a Glass Moon" John Petrucci, Dream Theatre (Images & Words
99. "Cause We've Ended as Lovers" Jeff Beck, Jeff Beck (Blow by Blow)
100. "Three Days" Dave Navarro, Jane's Addiction (Ritual de lo Hibitual)

Some Honorable Mentions:"Beyond Belief" Bob Hartman, Petra (Beyond Belief)"Independence Day" Brian Wooten, White Heart (Powerhouse)"Jesus Freak" Oran Thornton, dc Talk (Jesus Freak)"Let That Be Enough" Jon Foreman, Switchfoot (New Way to Be Human)"All This and Heavey too" Michael Sweet, Michael Sweet (Michael Sweet)"Place In This World" Dan Huff, Michael W. Smith (Go West Young Man)"Secret Ambition" Studio Guitarist, Michael W. Smith (Go West Young Man)"Spanish Fly" Eddie VanHalen, VanHalen ::(top 10)"Foxy Lady" Jimi Hendrix

Instructional: Guitar Technology for Dummies

2005-08-01T10:01:00.000-07:00

I had to write a quick synopsis on guitar technology for my lead singer awhile back. Thought it interesting so I thought I'd post it.

This is a brief document outlining some of the terminology and common concepts utilized in the technology used in regards to the invention of the electrical guitar and its amplifiers. Hopefully, this is most everything you’ll need to hold a brief, but intelligent conversation with someone should the occasion arise. I’ll try not to get too heavy into the acoustic-electric physics.

Basics
Watts. A watt is a unit of electrical power (technically it’s current times voltage [Watt’s Law]). 1dB (or decibel) is the threshold of perceiving an increase in volume. 3dB isn’t much, but it takes twice as much power to increase in volume by 3dB. It takes 10x the power to get a doubling of the dB (volume). For example if you can produce 100dB of sound with 30 watts, to increase to 200dB would take 300 watts (or 300W). Solid State is a term referring to newer amps that use electrical systems that involve transistors and IC’s (integrated circuits or “chips”). Solid State is slang for “digital” essentially. Amps made prior to the late 70’s are not solid state. Older amps use electrical systems comprised of vacuum tubes or “tubes” for short instead of IC’s and transistors. These electrical systems are referred to as “analog”. Tubes are utilized specifically in the circuits responsible for shaping the tonal qualities that will be sent to the speakers. Newer amps can also utilize tubes, though they are considered higher end amps and usually will have integrated circuits and/or transistors in the components inside the amplifier not directly responsible for the tonal aspects and quality.

Amplifiers
Every amplifier consists of 3 things: a preamp, a power amp, and a speaker cabinet. The “preamp” is responsible for conditioning the sound. Your equalization is in your preamp. Equalization of course is the level of presence of various frequencies. The frequencies of concern for an electric guitar are generally between 100 and 6,400 Hertz (abbreviated Hz). The frequencies in question for a bass guitar are typically between 40 and 4,500Hz (though bass equalization will sometimes go as high as 10,000Hz – this for slapping mostly and as low as 30Hz which is only a subharmonic). The “power amp” is responsible for boosting the signal to a degree that the signal is audible when sent to a speaker or set of speakers. Both preamps and power amps can be either solid state or tube driven. If an amp has a tube preamp but a solid state power amp it is said to be a hybrid. These are fairly new Frankensteins and many swear they sound better than a solid state. Power amps for the electric guitar are rated as low as 10W and as high as 400W. Most of the guys playing guitar in stage-sharing bands that we’ll come across will be using 50W to 200W at most. There are only really a few amps that produce more output than 200W and they’re quite expensive typically. Bass amps however, range in power from 100W to 2000W. Most of the bands we’ll play with will likely have bass amps rated for 250W to 800W. Mike Adams’ cab was rated for 1200 or 1600. It was quite overkill for us. Speaker Cabinets are of course the enclosure, or box, that contain the speakers. Speaker cabs are rated to accept a maximum wattage from a power amp. To exceed this wattage is very dangerous and will usually damage the speakers. In some amps, such as yours and mine (currently) the enclosures are part of the same construct as the preamp and power amp. Amps that house all three of these components (like yours and mine) are referred to as Combo Amps. Other amps, like Andrew’s and Mike Adams’ the preamp and power amp are in one construct and you connect a cable (or two if stereo) to the speaker cabinet. The housing for the preamp and power amp is affectionately referred to as a head. Note that the cables connecting a guitar to an amp are NOT the same as the cables that connect a power amp to a speaker cabinet. Those cables are called speaker cables and should never be confused with instrument cables. These concepts regarding the preamp, power amp and speaker cab also apply to sound reinforcement gear (PA equipment), though the use of tubes is generally considered to be less important of a debate. Many amplifiers have two additional ports on them that make up what is called an effects loop. Sometimes it is not labeled as that, instead the ports are labeled as “Send” and “Return”. On other amps the ports are labeled “Pre Out” and “Power In”. What these two ports do is separate the preamp and the power amp allowing the guitarist to put other devices in between the conditioned signal and the power stage. This is handy mostly for effect pedals, thus the term “effects loop”.

There are essentially 4 types of amplifiers. Two of them you already have read about: solid state and tube. These are the two most popular types. A third type that is gaining more and more in popularity are modeling amps. Jon’s guitar amp (the Line 6 Spider) was a modeling amp. Modeling amps, in their most basic definition are solid state. I’ve never seen one that was tube and probably never will (maybe a hybrid at best). What makes a modeling amp unique to its own category is they have an array of different tones they can produce, and each tone has been designed to sound like a classic, vintage, or widely sought-after & appreciated amplifier model. The Pod and the Bass Pod are modeling preamps. These amps often contain a wide assortment of onboard modulation effects, delays, etc. We’ll cover effects later.

The fourth type of amplifier is called a rectifier. Some amps, most popularly Mesa Boogies, use what is called a rectifier to assist in the tonal production. It’s essentially another stage within the power amp that converts AC to DC before sending it to the speakers. It creates a unique tonal quality that is highly coveted in some circles. The rectifiers themselves can exist in either in tube form or in solid state form but typically are only used on higher end tube-driven amplifiers. I really don’t know much about how they work but I can pick one out of a crowd without a problem generally. They have a pretty unique sound.

Guitars
This will be a much shorter chapter than the one on amplifiers. Guitars are quite simple by comparison. Every electric guitar has three things that are different from an acoustic. An output jack, pickups, and control knobs. Very simple. The output jack is simply where the cable goes in to connect the guitar to the amp. The control knobs are just that. Typically an electric guitar will have at least two. Volume and Tone. Volume is self-explanatory. Tone, generally increases the amount of treble and presence the higher you turn it. It’s hard to explain the audible differences. The best way to really learn what a tone control knob does is to hear it. Some guitars have additional knobs for additional parameters or to turn on/off onboard features of a guitar. There’s hundreds of possibilities so I won’t explore every one, needless to say knobs that are not well-labeled on a guitar should not be played with too much if you don’t know what you’re doing (especially if it’s not your guitar). J Anyway, now to pickups. Single coil pickups are a series of 6 magnetic polls, targeted directly at the strings of the guitar. The magnets pick up the vibrations of the strings and create an electrical signal that is then sent to the amplifier. Humbuckers are a single pickup, but they look like 2 put closely together. There are 12 magnetic polls instead of 6. The additional set of magnets in parallel produce a hum-canceling effect, thus the name “humbucker”. They also produce a much louder and stronger tone (more polls equals hotter signal). Some guitars are built with a switch making a humbucker a single coil pickup when you flip it. That switch is called a coil tap.

Well, I hope that helps some. If you want to know anything else more specifically shoot me an email and I’ll be happy to answer any questions I can.

Essay: Worst Show Ever

2005-08-01T09:55:00.000-07:00

I'm not naming names here, some of the details have been slightly modified...but this really did happen to us.

Background: In July of 2004 our bass player quit. He was 19, just graduated, super talented! And right after our recording was finished and he got his name on the liner notes, he shipped it to a university and used it to get himself a full-ride music scholarship. We had shows lined up at the time so we had to fill the spot fast. We did. The replacement was a nice guy, but 15 years older than everyone else, and had just picked up the bass a year or two ago. We've all been playing since junior high/high school. Anyway, he didn't last long, so we paid a pro to play bass for us during the fall of '04.

Story: In the Fall of '04 we were made aware of a band tournament being put on in the midwest for bands specifically just like ours. Where we're at, doing what we do. The past the winners of this tournament have gone on to label contracts. This particular tournament came heavily recommended by somebody, who heard from somebody else, that it was worth it for us to go. We looked into it, submitted our stuff, and were chosen as one of the bands to "compete". The website was quite professional, the sound and lighting was supposed to be pro caliber, the press quotes seemed legit, and the flyers, etc made it look like quite an opportunity. We practiced and practiced and as we did we found out more and more about this show.

There's like 24 bands and three rounds. The bands are split in groups of 8 to do initial competition. Two winners are picked from each group. Two groups of three do a second round and then the last round is the two "best" bands. And plane tickets aren't covered. So I'm starting to freak out about where the money's coming from when the argument was brought up we couldn't afford to NOT go. See, every band that competed, did so in front of

A: industry professionals in the audience. People from labels, management companies, booking agencies, regional promoters, etc.

B: a panel of judges, even more impressive with their industry professionalism credentials. These judges did critiques of your performance and scored you, gave you advice, etc whether you won or not.

And the winner of the tournament goes on to play a showcase in a huge music city (NY/LA/Nashville). They threw out some names of some very important people that were guaranteed to be there. One of whom we’ve been trying to get a hold of for some time now. We even had some contacts of signed bands, that are successful in a big way now, that have played there before. More on that later.

The hired gun bass player simply states, so long as his expenses are covered and he makes his usual fee plus 15%, he’ll come, but he won’t fly his amp cross country. Slightly perturbed that I now have to rent gear for him to play at this fly date at an inflated rate, we agree to it and I start calling music stores in the town.

It was more or less agreed this was too good an opportunity to miss out on. So we shell out the bucks to not only fly from where we're at, to where this event is ($800 per person roundtrip) but to ship our overweight and oversized gear on the plane ($300 in additional luggage fees). So we get there, and it's snowing. Now apparently, this town doesn't get snow very often, because they had a whole inch and the guy is now telling me on my cell phone they're considering canceling the show, as my captain announces we're about to land at our destination. Some nonsense about the sound guy not wanting to come out in "blizzard conditions".

The ‘hired gun’ bass player is now beginning to whine. Loudly and frequently and my patience is already wearing thin. Remember, hired guns are not responsible for any expenses, and he gets paid whether we do or not.

Here we are in this airport, trying to rent a van that will fit us and all our gear so we can drive another 100 miles to where the event is. The venue did not pay for plane tickets, overage charges, a rental car, backlined gear, food, lodging, nor is he paying us to come and play. The only hope we have of making any money is selling mass merchandise to the supposed 500-1000 in attendance and dozens of industry professionals. But we can’t even do that if he cancels the show. I’m thinking the other 8 bands are going to be with me on this, even though I’ve never met them, so I start applying some pressure.

“You can’t cancel this show. We flew all the way out here on our own dime to do this. We’re not making any money, we’re all taking massive losses because we believe we have a good chance at success here. Half an inch of snow, that I’m watching start to melt in front of me (and you’re only an hour and a half away) is not ‘blizzard conditions’. You tell that sound guy he’s going to owe us a serious chunk of change if he doesn’t get there!” Just then the sound guy miraculously shows up according to the fellow on the phone and we’re “good to go”.

Bass player: “I’m hungry. Who’s buying me dinner?”

I hang up with him only to find out from my keyboard player that there are no vans available at any of the in-airport car rental companies. So we had to pay for a shuttle to take us to a specialty vehicle rental place. Then we had to stand in the snow with our gear while a vehicle is procured, costing us twice what we budgeted for car rental. It would’ve been cheaper to get 2 SUV’s at Hertz.

So we finally get a vehicle, hit the highway and drive 100 miles in slush and the most boring country in the southwest. When we get to the venue we pull in to find that it is an old abandoned warehouse. The bass player is now beginning sing a chorus of “I knew this was a bad idea,” and the rest of us are really starting to think we misjudged this event.

We had no idea.

The place was all closed up still. 3 hours till soundcheck. It’s early but I thought somebody would be here. We circle the place because first reaction is, “this can’t be the place.” But it is. A small poster on the side door has the venue’s name on it and our worst fears are beginning to be confirmed. We’re playing in a warehouse.

I’m trying to shoosh the expletives from the back seat and read the flyer at the same time. It’s an old flyer. I can’t see what the text says but I see some faces on the cover. Looks like a previous show from awhile back. So this is definitely the place. Silence from the van. Dead silence. But there’s still a glimmer of hope. OK, so the acoustics are going to royally suck, and the sound guy may not show, and we’ve blown a small fortune getting here….but we’re here. About to play in front of some very important people and make a good first impression on them too. Pep talks are useless though. We go get some food to shut the bass monkey (as he’s becoming effectionately referred to). Bass monkey is screaming wildly and doing to the verbal equivalent of flinging poo all over the van.

After dinner we head back to find a couple bands, the promoter, and the sound guy shows up on our tale, one hour before sound check. We all get in there and there’s…I don’t know….5 bands maybe there? I can’t tell band members from sound crew from venue employees. They all look the same. And nobody knows who anybody is except for a few guys that are walking around shaking hands, giving hugs, exchanging witty banter, saying things like “What’s it been? 6 weeks?” We are obviously the outsider. As the sound crew sets up the stage, the promoter gathers us all together to have a little chat.

He starts listing off bands and where they came from, giving nods to those he’s had direct communication about the event with over email and phone. It hits me that all the other bands drove in from adjacent states, or two states away. We’re the only one that flew, and the only one not from the Southwest with an accent to prove it. I wasn’t sure if that would work in our favor or not. As he talks and explains how the transitions will work, who’s MC-ing, how long we have, rules about stage activity, etc. He’s not making eye contact with anyone. Almost purposefully. He’s glued to his clipboard. As I scan the circle of bands waiting to hear their name and introduction, I notice a few things. There’s a theme in their clothes and suddenly I realize all these other bands are from the hard core side of rock. Punk, metal, thrash, hardcore, emo, etc. And I begin to worry we did not screen this event correctly and we’re possibly severely out of place. My band and I are rock and roll. We ride the lines between pop rock and hard rock, but you would not classify us as punk, metal, thrash, hardcore, emo, etc.

But for a second I actually think this may go in our favor with the judges, and that’s when I hear “crowd reaction will be a big part of your final score”. Having no idea what this event was promoted as, I once again, start to worry. We may be a lone fish in a sea of musical enthusiasts that not only dislikes our genre, but hates what we play with a passion, just because of what the style is regardless of how well we execute it. I have the next hour to think on this and worry myself into a basketcase. If we don’t win tonight, will the whole ordeal have been a complete waste of thousands of dollars? YES!!!

We draw straws to see who goes when. We drew the shortest straw and, as fate would have it, have to/get to go last. I step down from the 5 foot tall stage as the bands disperse to get ready, only to find we have the worst possible location in the place to setup our merch booth. Our tee shirts, CD’s, stickers, buttons, and hooded sweatshirts will be in the back corner, far from any lighting and too far away to monitor from the stage with no one to man it while we’re playing. I suddenly have to pee. When I make it to the most grotesque bathroom I suddenly feel my bile duct raging. I turn the light on and a couple cock roaches scurry to a nest in the wall. Suppressing the need to vomit, holding my nose from the stench, and pissing all at the same time I run out only to find the handleless door to the unisex “bathroom” did not close behind me when I went in and there are some seedy looking characters that have been watching my ordeal since I went in (both genders). I walk out without flushing the toilet. There’s no water in it, and I’m not waiting around and see if it even COULD flush.

My fears were once again confirmed as the show starts. What passed for a pro caliber light show was a teenager flipping the buttons on and off on the light faders and an old guy in the back turning on house lights when the MC called for it from the stage. You could hear three chord strums for every one the guitar player made from the back of the warehouse where our merch booth was. We sat silent, arms crossed. We sold a couple of CD’s which wouldn’t even put half a tank in the van we rented. The ceiling had to be 30 feet high and metal. Like listening to music in a tin can. The closer you got to the stage the less reverberation you heard, but the louder it got to.

And yes, no other band was anything like us. A couple hardcore screamo bands played first. The first band, from the town the event was in, only paused long enough from his top-of-his-lungs screaming to catch his next breath. By their third song he had no voice left and only let out air and a small squeak when he went to scream. The guitar and bass player played a barrage of power chords in drop D. The drummer broke 8 sticks, 2 heads and cracked his high hat during 5 songs. The dozens of kids on the floor in front of the stage (yes I said dozens, not hundreds) were either standing there pretending to be bored or moshing like I’ve never seen slam dancing and they hooted and hollered between every song. The warehouse was filled with the stench of sweat by the third song. They turned on the heater (because afterall, it’s blizzard conditions outside) about half way through the event, which was almost as loud as the band on stage at the time and right over our merch table. The heater suspended from the roof and had to be a thousand watts. It was designed to heat the whole warehouse. It rattled and blew hot air all over our table.

I searched and searched, weaving in and out of the crowd, to find these judges and the industry professionals that were watching, critiquing, evaluating and taking notes on the performances. They were nowhere to be found. Between the 3rd and 4th bands, the MC gave a “shout out” to the judges, who were in the back, on top of the concession stand seated in lawnchairs. I found out later the “industry professionals” were members from last year’s competition. Not even members of the winning band, just your average joes. The band before us finished with their 5th trashcan ending for the night, we prepped to take the stage. The transition went smooth and we huddled together as the MC kept the crowd interested. Over the course of the night the crowd had tripled in size since the first. Late comers have moseyed in. One group of kids that all came together, looked more like our usual patrons. As we huddled the last pep talk of the night was force fed from all of us to all of us. The feeling was unanimous. Let’s not let these playing conditions stop us from doing what we do best and giving these people a good show. That’s what we do. Let’s go do it. Forget about everything else. Bassmonkey, time to earn your keep.

We took the stage and played our opening intro. When I hit the first chord the lights kinda blasted at us and we saw everybody for the first time. The synergy we have at every show was there. The thoughts of the horrible conditions, money wasted, all of it was gone, shed from memory for the duration of our 5 song set. Somehow I almost think the trials made us play better. As the same mix blared from every monitor on stage, nobody complained. We did our job and…get this…this crowd of now mixed musical taste was so incredibly into it. We were all over that stage, jumping around, getting them into it, throwing water at the sweaty masses and they loved it and screamed for more. We played no ballads, because for 5 songs, we wanted to keep the energy up. I don’t know what it was. Maybe it was just my own adrenaline playing tricks on me, but we left that stage with an impromptu trashcan ending of our own and left them screaming for more, and I really thought, hey, maybe this was worth it afterall.

The MC took the stage and was ready to announce the winner. Pretending to rip open the unsealed generic envelope for drama, he pulled out the piece of paper and read the hand-written word scratched in pencil. It was the first band. The crowd was now only half interested knowing the last band had played and were slowly migrating out the door. A few dozen cheered loudly, but mostly people looked at each other and mouthed the question, “Which one was that?” I heard one girl say, “That was the last one….had to be.” It was not. As the MC announced second place, which I had completely forgotten about, and was really curious to see if we’d get the nod, because we rocked the place, said to myself “it doesn’t matter if it’s us…we’re not coming back here.” It too, was also not us. First place went to the first hard core band. The bass chord playing, guy that lost his voice from screaming, drummer that broke half his set, screamo band. The second place band was a 3-piece teenage instrumental thrash band.

It was debatable, in my mind, whether we were the best or the third band. They were hard-hitting with catchy hooks and really good writing. I thought for sure we’d take first and second with them if the judging was honest, but I had my doubts from the beginning whether or not that would be the case. The mother of one of the teenagers in the second place band came up to me as we were loading out in the melting snow. She handed me a piece of paper and said, “You should have won.” The letter said she was told by the promoter that her son’s band, and the band that took first would win this event. The two local bands. The first place band, an ex-house band of the venue, had a cousin of the promoter and used to play in the band the other judges were in. As we pulled away from the venue, ready to put this all behind us, the promoter tracked us down and handed us a packet of papers. “You almost forgot your judge’s review,” he said with a smug look on his face. As the bassmonkey prepared to fling verbal poo at the guy, I stopped him, thanked him, took the paperwork and drove away. The “review” was most insulting. Commenting on everything from poor timing to the lead singer’s shirt. BTW, our timing is dictated by metronome to the drummer via headphones and he was on all night. They were making this crap up. Peppered throughout the review were comments like “Your musical genre has no social relevance today.” And “either go softer or go louder, but stop playing pop rock”. Some comments were simply cheap shots, “You suck”. No elaboration, no justification, no room to argue. We never saw their faces, we never met them, they did not offer their names on the forms they filled out.

We drove to the airport, bassmonkey complaining the whole way about wanting a shower and needing to find a 24 hour fitness when we get the city. We slept in the van for 5 hours parked in a hotel parking lot, ate nothing. We turned in the van, paid for another shuttle, paid another overage charge for the gear, boarded the plane and flew home. We said nothing to each other, only slept.

The single most expensive learning experience I’ve ever had right there. We recovered. We’re all good now and still playing, Touring very soon as a matter of fact. We found ourselves another bass player that we kept as a member and we’re all much tighter friends.

But that….was the worst show I ever played.

:Bazooka-Joe

Essay: Poverty on Parade (part 1)

2005-08-01T09:46:00.000-07:00

Poverty on Parade (for Jesus, of course):
Roadside Experiences of a Touring Independent Christian Rock Band
(…by an admittedly pessimistic guitarist’s perspective)

Part 1 – Why Would Anyone Put Themselves Through Something Like This? (Motive)

Playing in a band requires the same three elements that are needed to be charged of felony murder in a court of law within the United States: motive, means and opportunity. Ironically if enough of the people who get to decide your fate, for whatever reason, don’t like you that day, that’s enough to ruin your life as swiftly as a jury of your own peers. And they don’t listen to the closing arguments of slick, deep-pocket attorneys either.

The subtitle of this book is “Roadside Experiences of a Touring Independent Christian Rock Band”. A touring, independent, Christian, rock and roll band…notice that there are four different descriptors in that phrase, outlining with detail exactly what kind of band I’m writing about. My guess is that you (the reader) have already made up your mind about a few things regarding the particulars of these types of “bands” based on that title. I would submit to you that you’re likely wrong on at least a couple of accounts, but let’s break down that phrase anyway, shall we?

Touring. I’m too lazy to pick up a dictionary, so I’m going to point my web browser to http://www.dictionary.com/, which defines “touring,” in this context, as “A journey to fulfill a round of engagements in several places”. This definition kind of leaves the reader thinking the various dates of a tour are filled ahead of time, details are fully worked out, and the band drives around from place to place, setting up, doing their show, tearing down, and piling in the van to the next location. Which is partly correct and in a perfect world would pretty much be the way it worked. However, the use of the term “fulfill” within the definition puts the requirements of the obligation in the hands of the band. Hmmph. Perhaps whatever brain trust sits around creating definitions for that website will get a hold of my little essay here and I’ll have the opportunity realign their unfortunate misconceptions.

Independent. Ah yes, independent. This word simultaneously brings a smile and a cringe to everyone who truly understands the context in which I speak of it. The fourth definition from dictionary.com defines “independent” in this context as “Not dependent on or affiliated with a larger or controlling entity.” Kind of makes it sound like a bad thing, doesn’t it? Ironically enough, the second definition defines it as “Free from the influence, guidance, or control of another or others; self-reliant.” And that pretty much sums up the two differing views of independent musical groups. More on this later.

There’s probably thousands of different definitions for the word “Christian”. Every political party, protestant denomination, cult, philosophical book club, university frat house, and left-winged pompous, yuppie, pseudo-“intellectual” sipping a caffeinated beverage with 8 names in a capitalistic coffee house chain has their own definition. However, for simplicity’s sake, I’ll take dictionary.com’s third definition, “Manifesting the qualities or spirit of Jesus; Christlike.” It’s pretty hard to argue with that one.

Finally we come to the word “rock”. Rock, in this context is of course short for “rock and roll” a style of music we’re all familiar with and have our own preconceived notions about. I won’t bother defining it for you, as dictionary.com does not do it justice. Suffice it to say, it’s a style of music. You know what? If you don’t know what’s meant by the word “rock” you’ve either been living in a P.O.W. camp for the last 50 years or you’ve been stranded on a deserted island for so long if we ever find you, you’ll be shocked to discover man has actually landed on the moon, not to mention the invention of two-ply toilet paper and the sacrilegious absurdity of interleague play. Either way you probably won’t get the opportunity to read this. At least I hope not. You should join a Christian rock band and tour the world or something.

But let’s get back to those three elements you need to sojourn out around the country as part of a touring ICR Band. And let’s start with motive. I find it freakishly ironic that I’m about to tell you why I decided to go the route I did, before I tell you what that route is (though you can approximate from the title, I’m sure). Often times in this business, the “why” is all we have and logistics, such as “how” are often left at the curb. Sometimes for good reason, sometimes not.

Like most motivations, mine is almost entirely idealistic. Time warp with me for a moment, if you will. The date is July 23rd, 1992. It’s a Thursday. I’m two months away from my 13th birthday. I arrived at the massive Christian music festival, Jesus Northwest, encompassing the entire Clark County fairgrounds at about 9 or 10 that morning. I was completely oblivious to the impact that the day’s events would have on the rest of my life, as is usually the case for such days and was furthermore oblivious to just how many people were there. Several kids and youth workers from my church were already at the campsite mulling about, prepping various arrangements, setting up folding chairs around the camping area, propping up tents, etc. This year, our campsite was right on the corner. It was absolutely as close as you could possibly get to the gate in which you must pass through to get to the fairground events, rides, games, food, merchandise, and of course the enormous amphitheater-like stage and grandstands. A single teenager, bored out of his mind, sat in a makeshift booth at the small opening of the gate with his head supported by his fist and a magazine laid open on the table. He was stamping hands of people that hand proof of purchase and verifying stamps for those that had already passed through for the day. Our campsite was surrounded on three sides by adjacent campsites and we had the ‘luxury’ of the Honeybucket’s leading product line right across the gravel road which flanked us on the East. Tents and large canopies were established everywhere as far as the eye could see. We of course were on the far North end of the camp-covered grounds. Our youth pastor was Danish. And quite proud of that fact actually, so a Danish flag swayed in the non-wind of the hot July morning, as came to be our trademark within this group.

It was not only my first Jesus Northwest festival, it was my first day as a participant in this foreign concept called a “youth group”. To my knowledge my past churches had no such groups for youth in Corpus Christi and I was skeptical at best as to how much fun its events and people could be. I grew up in the church and, at 12, thought I had pretty much seen it all. I spent the majority of my life, prior to 1992 in the Bible belt (of which Texas is most certainly the buckle). There’s little to no oppression for churches in this belt. At least none that I ever heard of or came across. In fact, let’s face it, they are the majority down there and they know it. Vocal groups of political activists hardly ever picket churches or religious causes in Oklahoma City. Men are not killed and women assaulted on public transportation and children not brutalized in school for speaking their beliefs in Omaha. I would dare not draw a correlation to the Left coast and places as hostile as, say, communist China, for instance. But let’s just say if the Christian faith had “trenches” in America, one of them would most certainly be Portland, Oregon. On this first day it took me all of an hour and a half to meet a guy, very much like me, named Dan. Dan and I, as it turned out, had more in common than anyone else either of us had ever really met prior to that time. He was only a year older, but was entering 9th as I was entering 7th. This is because the smart little bugger had skipped a grade at some point, which he only came to regret later. He also nearly went to the national geography bee. He lost the state competition to the kid who won nationals. I believe that was shortly before I met him. We spent the entire day, and later would spend the entire weekend, together at the festival. He and I both had a lot of “firsts” that sunny weekend in our home town of typically-rainy Vancouver, Washington (just across the Columbia River from Portland). But as would normally come to be the case, he had a leg up on me at this festival because he had not only heard of one of the musical acts playing, he actually owned Petra’s “Unseen Power” album. Unseen Power scores the rare total of “Five 4’s”. Pardon my rabbit trail for a second.

Rabbit Trail: I generally rate songs off of an album on a 1 to 5 scale much like the star rating system of Apple iPods. Five being an enormous hit, one being a song I will skip past every time and would rather not hear. There is of course the very rare exceptions of the awesomely stellar and the tragically horrendous which will rate the seldom used 0 (“Hats” by Amy Grant) or 6 (“Jesus Freak” by dc Talk) which have the musical impact equivalency of Penicillin on the medical community. As I said before Petra’s “Unseen Power” has the distinction that, as I would later come to realize, it was my overall favorite album they would ever put out, though the life-altering moment involving them that I am about to describe had nothing to do with it.

Various musical acts had graced the stage on and off and my attention was minimal and fleeting at best throughout the day. Acts that, at that time, would be found on what they referred to as the “Inspirational” shelf in the Christian book stores. Groups like 4Him, Point of Grace, Bob Carlisle, Michael English, Michael Card, etc. Nothing against those musical groups. I’m sure they’re well aware they struggle to maintain the attention span of a hormone-enraged pre-teen at a 92 degree outdoor festival. They weren’t my cup of tea and I was beginning to think I probably would not attend any of the musical showcases at the festival, when Dan mentioned he wanted to catch Petra that night. Everyone in the group had paid the $40 for the total event pass so we could go anywhere on the fairgrounds and see both the daytime singers and the nightly headlining bands. If my memory serves me right our group of two frequently bloated to 6 or even 10 from time to time as we perused the grounds, but for whatever reason the two of us stuck together for the entire time. Just enjoyed each other’s company I guess. 7 years later Dan would come to be the best man at my wedding. It wasn’t hard to waste an entire day just walking around, looking at stuff, people watching (a.k.a. babe watching), snow cones, elephant ears, roller coasters, petting zoos, various games, contests and attractions, etc. We met back up with the larger group for dinner that night, played a couple games, chatted, etc but interest in the opening acts before Petra was quite low. I couldn’t even tell you now who they were since we stayed at camp, but we could hear the echoing booming noise from our campsite just kitty corner from the fenced backstage area. I believe Mylon LeFevre & Broken Heart may have been one of the bands.

We seemed to have instinctively known when Petra was taking, or had taken the stage. Dusk had developed into full blown darkness as we made the 1/8th mile, mostly uphill trek to the crest of the amphitheater. After we showed the gatekeepers the blurry ink stains from that morning’s initial , we turned to the right and walked slowly up the small hill lined and scattered with folding chairs, families and couples on blankets, many standing and peering through the chain link fence. The crowd beyond the small hill I could not see but it began to be clear to me the entire populace of the festival had gathered there. No one was missing this concert. The stage lights glittered and danced on stage. They changed colors from soft blues to soft yellows, greens and reds as a palm muted clean electric guitar riff bounced up and down the scale accompanying John Schlitt’s tenor vocals. My saunter turned to a jog as my intrigue was sparked, and then I reached the pinnacle of the amphitheater’s bowled outer edge and looked down on what I later learned was tens of thousands of people. In a matter of seconds from my reaching the top and ascending on the scene about 80 yards as the crow flies from the front corner of stage right, Louie Weaver’s stick crashed upon the head of the snare drum and the light picking of the clean guitar riff turned into a roaring thunderous overdriven chord strum. The flood lights beamed in perfect rhythm with the drum hits and chord strums and illuminated the entire dust bowl showing off the crowd of thousands, all fist-pumping in unison and screaming out the same two words in magnanimous vernacular, “Beyond Belief, Beyond Belief!” The blood rushed from all over my body to my head, my eyes locked in gaze at the entire scene, my ears straining to catch every little nuance as the distorted guitar rolled through the post-chorus mantra and the bass thumped in time with the kick drum in a pulsating pattern of pure perfection. The entire display was like watching the gears of a well-oiled antique clock methodically tick along. Seeing the crowd react to the music, the musicians, and seeing those on stage react in kind to the emotional overtones that flowed from the grandstands, from those in the woodchip-covered pit down below and those closest to the stage reaching out. It was more than surreal. It was euphoric. Better than any drug I’ve ever had to this day. I finally discovered a music that touched my soul deep down in a place no art had ever penetrated before. I had not only discovered one of the greatest friendships that I would carry through junior high, high school, college and into my adult life that day; not only discovered the joy of belonging to a group of fellow believers from my own church were my own age and lifestyle, but I discovered rock and roll as it stylistically manifested in the late 80’s and early 90’s for the first time and immediately fell in love not only with the music, the genre, the band and the song, but the very art of creating it struck me at that very moment as an endeavor I wanted to cultivate and be a part of. But beyond this, gazing at the thousands, I learned that I was not alone. There were Christians here, that were proud of what they were and who they were. And as they chanted “Beyond Belief” at 117dB it was a moment of serenity and peace that my heart had never experienced. These were kids. Kids my age. Loving rock and roll and able to take it home to their church-going parents and not have them burn it in effigy.

Something inside me stirred that night. I sat in awe for the next couple of songs until I snapped out of my comatose-like state and ran down the amphitheater’s bowled edges, into the barkdust-covered, mostly fenced off dirt pit that engulfed the most fanatical 5% of the throng and proceeded to work my way up to the front of the stage or as close as I could get to it. I dismissed both the remarks and dirty looks I got from people scared I would try to somehow “cut in front” of them, block their view or obstruct their kids’ line of sight from the demigods on stage. Dan and I later joked that at one point it seemed a drop of sweat or spit from John Schlitt had landed upon my forehead and justified my lack of showering for the weekend. Truth be told the shower waters were about 34 degrees Fahrenheit and even in the heat of a nearly-100 degree day my body convulsed at the idea of sharing my frozen edification with dozens of burly, hairy, male thrill seekers. That night after the Petra concert and their encore, I ran (literally ran) to the mobile covered Christian book-tent containing hundreds of CD’s from Christian artists of every genre. I had never really taken a close look at the selection before this point, and for the life of me, I can’t quite ascertain why. Dan and I stood in a rather long line as I waited to purchase my first cassette tape copy of Petra’s “Beyond Belief” album.

When we got back from the store I found my youth group huddled around a propane high-powered lantern in lawn chairs getting ready to sing worship tunes and listen to the crazy antics of the in-house “Weird Al” guy (whose improvisational skills both with a guitar and with a quick wit have never been matched in my opinion). After what turned out to be a very long night of singing and laughing, enjoying the company of my peers and new friends, we retired to our tents, at which point I stayed up another two hours memorizing the lyrics and every musical nuance to the song Beyond Belief with a walkman and a flashlight. It was just about the best 24 hour period of my life that I had ever experienced thus far. I went to sleep with the nagging feeling that perhaps I should learn how to play the guitar, maybe even join/form a band some day. Beyond Belief remains one of only half a dozen songs that rate a “6” in my book. Quite possibly my favorite of all time, due as much to the experience I had, as its musical contributions and impact upon the Christian contemporary music scene at the time.

Interesting: Jesus Northwest

2005-08-01T09:45:00.000-07:00

Why did the Christian music extravaganza, "Jesus Northwest" in Clark County stop being a yearly function? Here's why:

Executive Director of Jesus Northwest, Randy Campbell said: "For the past three years we have had a growing unrest with the focus of ministry at Jesus Northwest. In the fall of 1996 the Lord began to call our church to a deeper walk of faith and holiness. As He continued to reveal more of His presence and character to us, much of the ministry and direction of our church began to change. Because Jesus Northwest is such a large ministry of Peoples Church, it was obviously affected by these changes. Initially we questioned Jesus Northwest's validity because of our growing concern over the worldliness and idolatry we had watched, allowed and even facilitated. We knew the Lord was stirring something in us regarding Jesus Northwest, but for many months we did not clearly understand what it was. As the festival drew closer, we began to see glimpses of the fact that the problems with Jesus Northwe st were not simply within the festival environment itself, but many had to do with us as a body... Our concern over the idolatry we saw at the festival, such as believers exalting artists and speakers, was now over-shadowed by the reality that Jesus Northwest had become an idol to our church. The festival had come between us and the direction and heart of the Lord. On Sunday, July 27, 1997, the Lord directed our Senior Pastor to lead our church body into a time of corporate and public repentance for what we had done. We sensed the Lord calling us to lay the ministry of Jesus Northwest at His feet and to begin to truly trust Him for His will and purpose. We are continuing in that process, but sense at this time He would also have us repent to those in the body of Christ we have endeavored to serve. We humbly repent before the Lord and ask the forgiveness of the body of Christ for inadequately representing Christ in our ministry, message, and methods. We have failed in diligently seeking to know His purpose and will. We have provided a ministry that has been a blessing to some but for others has opened a door to commercialism, focus on man and not on Christ and appealed to the flesh more than the spirit. We repent for criticizing both the public's apparent worship of the artists and of the artists' apparent unwillingness to confront this issue. We arrogantly blamed the problems, inherent in festival ministry, on everyone else, never allowing the Lord to turn His light on us. Our sins were ones of presumption and ignorance. We did not intend to mislead the body of Christ or bring offense to the name of Christ. Our hearts were for ministry, but our methods were misguided. Our encouragement to the body is to not take any ministry at face value, but be discerning of His Spirit, and of people's motives. Just because something or someone comes in the name of the Lord, there is no guarantee it is directed by the Lord. Sadly, we have been an example of that. We have been encouraged by many to accept what the Lord is doing in our lives and return to the ministry of Jesus Northwest with new hearts and focus. Although the Lord is changing us, many problems still remain in the greater workings of the contemporary Christian music industry, the Christian publishing industry, and independent ministries we have worked with over the years. These issues prevent us from being involved with the type of festival we've been providing. We feel that within these industries and ministries much of what is done (e.g. ministry direction, decision-making, methods, even the message itself) is often driven by marketing - not the mind of the Lord. It is driven by analyzing demographics, not His anointing, by audio/visual production, not His power or presence. Money, success and business have become the bottom line. For a time we looked the other way and justified what was happening because ministry was taking place. But now, having been convicted of the same problems in our own lives, we know the Lord will no longer allow us to continue in this direction."

Commentary: Political Columnists

2005-08-01T09:44:00.000-07:00

What I find be simultaneously terrifying and comical is the paradoxical conundrum that plagues every political columnist on either side of the many fences there are to stand upon in the present-day political scene. Forgive me the metaphor as I digress, but today’s political columnists are paid to stand alone in a crowded hallway of lobbyists, bloggers, political hobbyists, and partisan publications and shout at the top of their lungs, so everyone in the hallway can hear, their stance on political issues in the most articulate but non-offensive means possible. They do so with full knowledge that those in that hallway that agree, will silently nod and go about their business, while those that do not agree, a percentage of them anyway, will lash out, retaliate, and will do so without the self-restraint required of the initiating columnist. A columnist at best can only respond to these attacks one at a time. Many are deemed not worthy of a response at all, and when they are disregarded, retaliators respond in kind with declarations of having won a debate which never took place, claiming a lack of response was somehow an admission of being out-witted. With every articulate, non-offensive response the columnist makes to the responses of his original column, comes another wave of retaliatory “no holds barred” style attacks from the disagreeing masses. It’s akin to watching Neo fight off an unending stream of Agent Smiths. For every one he defeats, creates four more until the sheer number of attackers is so overwhelming, even though the original columnists believes and knows his stance to be legitimate he simply cannot keep up with it. Thus the oppressive masses once again declare victory. And the silent agreeing masses watch, and talk amongst themselves of the display, but never intervening. “Better him than me” they think to themselves. So the question remains, does the columnist write to persuade disagreeable agitators his cause? Or to egg them on in debate in an attempt to expose them for the abusive mud-slingers they are? Or does he do it to encourage the silent masses of sympathizers? Or perhaps he simply does it for himself.

Music Review: Relient K's "MmHmm"

2005-08-01T09:43:00.000-07:00

Relient K’s maturity and lyrical development since their last album, Two Lefts Don’t Make a Right, But Three Do, is not just significant, it’s monumental and stands out as the cornerstone component that makes this album, MmHmm (Gotee Records), their crowning achievement in terms of recorded material thus far. The collaboration of the 4-piece power pop/punk rock band and their long-time friend and producer Mark Townsend, is a combination that embodied the statement, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” [Relient K has since become a 5-piece, taking on two new members after long-time bass player Brian Pittman left in 2004 to start a landscaping company but his departure came after recording for MmHmm had completed]

It’s a pretty common theme, particularly of the middle-aged and older crowds, to hear the punk sound and complain of saturation, repetition, the conforming to pop culture and the teenage demographic, etc. Many classic rock and heavy metal enthusiasts, as well as those trapped in their overheating “way back machines” consider the entire genre to be little more than pretty faces and bubblegum music catered to the average consumer and rubberstamp the bands therein as “sell outs”. No arguing the facts I suppose. But Relient K, however, is quite possibly the bright shining star, the poster child for the genre if you will, defying the rules of de facto chord structure and musical framing, belligerent and offensive lyrics, and the stereotypical nose-pierced, Mohawk attitude. For those reading this article that have never heard Relient K’s MmHmm project, and are thinking you probably won’t give it a listen regardless of how much this review praises it, I challenge you, you owe it to yourself to give this album an honest ear and a few minutes of your time. Let it change your opinion of Christian punk. But do Relient K a favor…and don’t judge their songs by the intros.

If Relient K has one major downfall it’s that nearly every song for the last 2 or 3 albums often has the feeling of starting the exact same way. Tragically, 9 of the 14 songs on MmHmm seem to follow suit. I’ve owned the album for about a year, have listened to it heavily, and I can never tell which song I’m listening to until twenty seconds into it. However the sensation of monotony is always gone by the time Matt Thiessen finishes the first line of the first verse. Or perhaps it’s merely forgiven in lieu of the honesty, humor and humility of the lyrics that inevitably follow.

The album opens with an animated and cheery series of guitar pedaltones accompanied by uniquely patterned snare hits on the song “The One I’m Waiting For” before the tune opens up to a guitar driven drone and a full compliment of “hey” chants. David Douglas really shines with some impressive drumming. There’s a great layered vocal round as the song concludes, too. Despite the song’s feeling that it transcends the principles of time signature occasionally, and some great ‘back-and-forth’ of guitar arrangements, the song is largely about girls. Or rather a particular girl that as we learn is somewhat menacing regarding matters of the heart. And while the lyrics seem somewhat superficial, Matt Thiessen does call for guys to seek out the advice of “those that have more wisdom than you”. But it’s mostly about a girl.

Hang on, it gets better. “Be My Escape” kicks off with the typical Relient K intro I warned about however it’s brief and uniquely divergent as it seems to journey through three separate phases, before the first verse kicks in with the sensation of having passed through a musical inter-dimensional wormhole. Matt Thiessen’s first vocals are backed by a sublime arpeggiated piano piece. And as I listen to this song it occurs to me that either the melody or the musical arrangement experiences a significant transformation every 10-20 seconds, the next variation just as catchy as the last, gripping my attention for the entire tune. The drama that haunts this song from component to component is relentless and perfectly accompanies the at times morrows lyrics. “And this life sentence that I’m serving / I admit that I’m every bit deserving / But the beauty of grace is that it makes life not fair”. I’m thrilled to announce that this style, this thematic congruency exists throughout the album in a schizophrenic merging of break-neck intensity; engrossing, melodic peacefulness; deep, contemplative limericks; and absurd but playful comicality. “Be My Escape” sets the tone for the entire album both musically and lyrically. You really feel like you know Matt by the end of this record and this song’s closing line contributes to that feeling: “I fought You for so long / I should’ve let You in / Oh how we regret those things we do / All I was trying to do is save my own skin / But so were You / so were You”.

The presence of piano is a new introduction to Relient K albums. While I don’t recall much if any piano in previous projects, piano is a predominant staple in MmHmm. Their music has always been one of enormous dynamics that manipulate the emotions taking the listener through a journey of highs and lows with nearly every song. MmHmm however takes those low points to a lower place than before and rocks the high points harder than they’ve done in the past. The dynamic is more dramatic in this album, but even that can be overdone, and I felt by the end of the album that might just be what happened. But at this point, it’s still early in the album and I’m just getting into it. The next two songs, together with “Be My Escape” make an incredible threesome of trademark Relient K material. They exemplify everything I enjoy and have come to expect from the group. “High of 75” is delightfully fun drawing a comparison to their attitudes on any given day to the weather and generating musical articulations that appropriately accommodate the various weather patterns. The 10 second acoustic guitar intro separates “High of 75’s” opening from the nine songs that seemingly open the same way. Matt draws some great parallels in this song and Mark Townsend’s production is really thinking outside of the box for this group as we hear a disco beat, drum machine, even a digital clap track as the song chugs along. “I So Hate Consequences” is an overly honest song in which the guys manage to say what’s on everybody’s mind. Despite a somewhat juvenile intro that falls into that “typical Relient K” category, I believe this song to be one of, if not THE best tune on the album. The verses are comprised of vanilla punk rock palm muting but the guitars really open up in the channel and are side-by-side with some quick-delivered lyrics. As one listens to the words, you can’t help but be truly impacted by the truth and humility that breaks through the clouds in this song. This song deals with the desire to at times literally run from our mistakes, from God, and the sorrow we bring upon ourselves by our own sin. The natural reaction is often to simply get away. We look back with sadness that the momentum we had in our walks with God is now snuffed out by a major fall and we feel weighed down and just want to escape. Relient K’s last verse, sang to the piano, gives us listeners some real hope and finality with the issue however, and shows us a side to Matt Thiessen that’s too close to home to not be real:

“When I got tired of running from You / I stopped right there to catch my breath / there your words they caught my ears / You said ‘I miss you son, come home’ / And my sins they watched me leave / and in my heart I so believed / the love you felt for me was mine / the love I’d wished for all this time / and when the doors were closed / I heard no I-told-you-so’s / I said the words I knew you knew / oh God oh God I needed You / God all this time I needed You / I needed You”.

MmHmm’s fifth track is titled “The Only Thing Worse Than Beating a Dead Horse is Betting on One”. What can I say…it’s one minute and thirteen seconds of everything I thought Relient K outgrew in the first album. The next two songs “My Girl’s Ex-Boyfriend” and “More Than Useless” have equal parts comic drama and sobering truth serum. Though both start with the archetypal Relient K introduction, “My Girl’s Ex-Boyfriend” has clever lyrics, grounded harmonies, once again keen use of piano, and an unmistakable Beach Boys influence as the song concludes with creamy “oohs”, even more crisp harmonizing giving this album just one more facet of talented writing and superb production. Relient K takes a break from the humble contemplation for a very short time in “My Girl’s Ex-Boyfriend” stating freely that “I owe it all to the mistake he made back then / I owe it all to my girl’s ex-boyfriend”. It’s a unique twist on a universal theme of young romance that I’ve never quite heard presented in that fashion before. “More Than Useless” echoes the low self-esteem mentality of the struggling Christian teenager that, if you’re not going through it now, you remember it. The melody that bursts forth strikes one as more rock and roll than punk. “More Than Useless” branches off from the rest of the hard hitting, high energy songs with individual flavor and a different kind of vigor that I find to be refreshing and captivating. The message within “More Than Useless,” lest you suspect it to be less than positive from the title is pretty good stuff. “I’m a little more than useless / when I think that I can’t do this / you promise me that I’ll get through this / and do something right / do something right for once”. Again, candid reflection and persistent humility via beautiful writing make this album and this is just one more example.

“Which to Bury, Us or the Hatchet,” thank goodness, starts up with a soothing collection of Rob Thomas like melody and a light flange effect on a guitar giving the listener some ear candy. The song’s lyrics focus on an instance of conflict between the singer and a friend. Relient K brings us down a notch in arrangement but maintain the passion with over the top background screams. In the end the humility comes through again as the song closes, “what happened to us / I heard it was me we should blame / what happened to us / why didn’t you stop me from turning out this way”. This tune doesn’t really ‘end’ as much as it simply transforms into the ninth song on the album, “Let it All Out”. As the distorted guitars and screaming give way to the now characteristic piano and tranquil vocals for the ending verse and chorus of “What to Bury…” “Let it All Out” starts up without missing a beat or initiating a key change. “Let it All Out” is in my opinion incredibly uncharacteristic for Relient K. And I stress incredible. Relient K really show their diversity and a new palette of musical capabilities. A piano-driven instrumentation underlines a euphoric, amicable melody, and the usual intelligently organized words of poetic talent.

While the remaining four songs on this album are all, on their own merits, amazing songs, the album begins to feel repetitious with its unceasing dynamic changes becoming commonplace. It’s not boring, but if you listen to the album from start to finish it may begin to feel pedestrian to the listener. In other words, this album may actually have the problem of too many hits. At 13 songs even a great theme, a great vibe, and a true sense of independent style that is Relient K’s own can feel like too much. They ironically say it best in “Maintain Consciousness” in the last verse, “well no one can possibly listen to this / more than 4 reps is just monotonous / we’re losing interest, losing interest, losing interest”. Perhaps they knew what was happening. Luckily all the songs on this record are under 4 minutes. Relient K knows their strengths and they play to them in this outstanding collection of tunes. If they released a greatest hits CD today, at least a third of MmHmm would be included on it. “Who I Am Hates Who I’ve Been” is saturated with dynamic changes. Up, down, higher, lower, more intense, less intense. It’s a rollercoaster ride of a song as are much of the tracks on this CD. “Maintain Consciousness” opens with, you guessed it, layered guitar riffs that reach a slow-building pinnacle at about 12 seconds into the song right before the first verse comes in and breaks it up. A hammering synchronized bass and guitar rhythm remind this reviewer of “Be My Escape”. Another instance of catchy harmonies just before the pounding chorus comes in. All-in-all this song appears to make a commentary on the laziness, boredom, and monotony that came with the latter teen years and the early 20’s. Unfortunately the subject matter tends to make the song feel like its dragging and tends to have a lack of direction.

“Maintain Consciousness” transitions seamlessly with little more than a gong hit (very cool) into “This Week the Trend”. The song map closely mimics that of its predecessor. The chorus makes this song more than monotony though. Matt again grabs my attention from whatever I’m doing as he dispels his final verse: “And I just want to get mugged at knifepoint / to get cut enough to wake me up / cause I know that I don’t want to die / sitting around watching my life go by”. It draws a point for a listener that can’t be missed thanks to the vibrant emotional word picture. The rowdy instrumentation even pauses for the dramatic statement giving way to a sense that what you’re listening to is real, and exposing the desires of his heart in a way that strikes a chord of painful honesty. The song ends the way it begins with trademark Relient K guitars repeating the chord progression too many times. “Life After Death and Taxes” sounds somewhat like the fifth song of the CD. But unlike the shortest song on the album, this longest song has a much catchier chorus and flowing melody keeping with the in-your-face honesty that they delivered in “This Week the Trend” making statements guaranteed to make you stop, listen, and even rewind to make sure you heard it right. And yes, you did. One finds it easy to identify Matt T’s passions and desires with the vivid and emotional wordplay. Somehow it all works to make a great song…that appears to come to a complete halt, as many of their songs appear to do, at the half way mark. I’m already thinking that this segment (with a dominant piano of course) will slowly build until we’re repeating a slightly more energetic version of the same chorus. I find myself hoping any top-of-the-lungs screaming they present is kept to a minimum and low in the mix (to their credit that’s usually the case). Never one to disappoint, the guitar-rocking chorus does in fact come back but doesn’t ever develop into what I expect. The instrumentation changes yet again for what I think must be the final chorus. The BGV rounds and heavenly harmonies accompany a beautiful lead melody and while it does build up yet again right before the song closes it never returns to the punk feel so pervasive in the album but instead, for contrast, closes with a 15 second tease of string arrangement reminiscent of classical orchestration.

Overall I’d say the songs on this album are all quite stellar in achievement. Great words, music, arrangement, dynamic, and the honesty is truly moving at times. The album as a whole feels like a relentless barrage of energetic boisterousness and constant mid-song metamorphosis. It’s great for awhile, but I at least feel like I need an intermission from it, walk away, and come back to it or all the songs would sound too similar and I wouldn’t enjoy each one for its greatness. It’s almost too much. Then again, they are trying for the attention spans of some of the most distracted people ever to listen to music too, so I hesitate to penalize them for it. One could debate that “Let it All Out” is that intermission I desired too. But the album stands up well to scrutiny and I think the band deserves high marks for accomplishing the ultimate in thought-provoking smart rock.

Music Review: Kainos "Alive"

2005-08-01T09:42:00.000-07:00

Kainos’ message for ‘Generation Next’ is blatant, uncompromising and very in-your-face. But you’d never guess it from their music. Kainos is a hard-hitting rock duo and they appear to pull no punches for the Christian, churched youth of America. Kainos (“kay-nohs”) calls for the Christian youth to rise up, wake up, step away from the pews and “into the fire,” follow the examples of Christ and be proactive about their faith. That’s the message this reviewer received from the promotional material, etc anyway. Everything about this album screams distinct and unique. Uniqueness taken to a dramatic degree often feels fringe or alternative and this album camps right there on border of “underground” and “mainstream”. But in this day and age that line is becoming increasingly blurred, particularly for today’s youth. It’s pretty uncommon these days to see a rock duo, much less a female vocal fronting hard alternative rock. Even more uncommon is a husband/wife team.

Frequently the lyrics on Alive, such as the first hard-rocking track, “Selfish Me,” are lost between a breathy slurred vocal style, thick vocal effects, and the very busy musical mix. You could almost call it grunge were it not saturated with electronic processing. What is heard towards the end is a very repetitive “selfish me, selfish me” and one can really only guess at the message within the song without reading along with the CD liner. The tracks on the album are all musically dynamic and there’s an obvious talent displayed from the 23 year old guitarist and principle writer Ben Stacy for catchy melodies, complex arrangements and stellar guitar work. Musically, Kainos makes a successful stab at the teenage demographic rock scene giving a positive alternative to the likes of Evanescence and No Doubt.

The album overall has an animated, raw musical feel but when the lyrics can be clearly heard, on tunes such as “Alive,” “You and I,” the words appear to be redundant, cliché, and often lacking in substance. Despite the very focused and determined statements made on their website, in their bio, and found within their publicity material the message in their music appears to be rather vague and their music mediocre at best for much of the album with a few very shining moments that speak more of the production than the writing per se. While Hannah Stacy is clearly a very talented and capable singer, her words are often inundated with too much nuance, verbal freestyle, and superfluous emotion. Their message is hidden within ambiguous poetry and sabotaged by production overkill.

While Kainos’ debut album leaves something to be desired in substance and musical direction, the dynamic duo seem to have a lot of talent, and in their mid-twenties, show quite a bit of potential. I look forward to hearing what comes next from this group as they mature and grow in their relationship with each other, in the Lord and with their music. From their debut release, “Alive” there’s nowhere to go but ‘up’.

Music Review: Petra's "Jekyll & Hyde"

2005-08-01T09:41:00.000-07:00

The Return of Petra

Writing a review on Petra’s latest album, Jekyll and Hyde is a bit like writing a follow-up piece about the impossible surprise comeback of the Yankees-Red Sox championship series of 2004. You can’t really encapsulate the magnitude of the situation without explaining decades of history first.

Anyone that has any exposure to Christian rock music knows that Petra’s been around since the early 70’s. Most people have heard that the band Bob Hartman started back then was more country than rock and roll (Bob himself played a banjo on the debut album). I don’t think anyone argues that Petra ‘wrote the book’ for Christian rock music, pioneering it back in the days of Larry Norman and Randy Stonehill. Likely nobody is surprised to find Petra’s won four Grammy awards and ten Dove awards, or that the band has sold over 7 million records worldwide in multiple languages. And while I’m not really sure anyone realizes just how many tribute albums, ‘best of’ and ‘great hits’ collections there are of this iconic rock superhero, it takes Google 0.47 seconds to discover just how many fansites exist for the die-hard Petra crazed. But the same fans that would quote you these statistics like a gum-chewing twelve year old rattles off batting averages, would likely tell you, Petra has seen at least three different incarnations and everyone has a different opinion about which was Petra’s ‘hay day’. But they all pretty much agree it wasn’t 1995-2003, and they all pretty much concur that Jekyll and Hyde pulled Petra out of what many fans thought was the slow and painful death of a great band. It was hard to watch happen and even harder to listen to.

On August 19, 2003, Christian music chat rooms, discussion forums, bulletin board services and newsgroups exploded with activity over the new arrival of an old friend’s return to roots. Early John Schlitt era Petra fans everywhere were able to take in a fresh new sound reminiscent of Petra’s ‘glory days’ after holding their breath for eight long years. Since the departure of the band’s founder and guitarist Bob Hartman in 1995, Petra had released five albums, all of them a vast departure from the previous sound and style fans of two generations had come to adore. Lead singer John Schlitt joined the band in 1986 and appeared on that year’s release Back to the Street. That snowballed into a seven year/seven album smorgasbord of arena anthem rock with social relevance and tantalizing musical genius that found Petra not just keeping up with their secular counterparts, but in many circles surpassing them on pure, nonpartisan symphonic merits.

And then in the early to mid 90’s, a succession of events took place that had Petra seemingly groping in search of musical identity. As their recent album, Wake-Up Call received sporadic radio play and mediocre reviews at best, a new sound was taking the mainstream stage (as well as the Christian rock market) and the entire scene was shifting into what would become known as the grunge movement, which peaked in popularity around 1995.

Though in all their years, Petra has never compromised their message of hope through Christ and challenged its listeners to pursue the godly life of obedience outlined in biblical principles, Petra’s musical experimentation in an obvious attempt to appeal to a younger audience, alienated their most loyal of fans wishing for the return of Bob Hartman’s trademark guitar work and the days of “Beyond Belief”, “Destiny” and “Sleeping Giant”. On August 19, 2003, the fans got what they’d been waiting for. Jekyll and Hyde (Inpop Records), as you’ve guessed by now, is a return to the hard-hitting riffs, driving rhythms, and of course Bob Hartman’s ‘pull no punches’ lyrics. It’s also Bob’s and frontman John Schlitt’s first known collaborative effort with producer and Newsboys lead singer Peter Furler. Furler’s influence is notable on this album and his contributions advantageous to the project. Peter not only produces the album but offers his talents on drums and backing vocals for several songs. Cameo appearances are also made by Newsboys bass player Phil Joel who lays down some bass lines and sings some beautiful backing vocals, Jeff Frankenstein performs the programming, and ex-Guardian members Jamie Rowe (backing vocals) and Tony Palacios, who mixed the album. As you would imagine, having half of the Newsboys in studio with you is going to leave a mark. And while the Aussie influence is noticeable, it’s subtle. This album is most definitely ‘all Petra’.

Jekyll and Hyde, is a ten song collection of hard rock. Its opening title track, sets the tone for the album with a monstrous “wall of guitar”, explosive dynamic and keen pregnant pause placement. It takes a split personality perspective on the duality of human nature that Paul writes about in Romans 7:15 with its ear-catching phrasing and poignant metaphors. Good luck singing along with this one folks. John Schlitt is in top-notch form.

“All About Who You Know” follows the title track and gives validity to the cliché calling for a departure of the seeking of worldly advancement and refocusing on “knowing” Jesus. The unique use of overdriven bass, a chorus of backing vocals, wah-wah pedal texturing and a brief showing of a drum machine for flavor all contribute to a great arrangement that screams Peter Furler in this short, two minute thirty-five second song.

While the chorus melody of the third song, “Stand” seems a bit repetitive by the second time through, at about two minutes through the song, it breaks out with a great musical divergence in the bridge. The song exemplifies Bob Hartman’s skills throughout as a strong (if not poetic), courageous and challenging lyricist. “Woulda Shoulda Coulda” stands out as the album’s trademark mid-tempo, almost pop, tune. An insightful but upbeat Newsboys-esque chorus chants, “Would’a, should’a, could’a done this and that / Don’t wanna live life with another regret”. Its simplicity makes it a great tune and an easy one to get stuck in your head for the rest of the day.

“Perfect World” opens with ethereal verse instrumentation and Schlitt’s vocals forefront in the arrangement. John’s melody dances lightly on top of the bouncy chord progression in a playful collection of sound effects and stellar programming. The chorus explodes through with a catchy, tenacious, and carefully composed series of overdrive guitar-laden riffs, leaving the listener reaching for the “repeat” button.

“Test of Time” has a borderline heavy metal feel. This is a rocking good example of the right kind of experimentation in a direction that utilizes all the strengths of the writing and musicians’ abilities. The backing vocals add a whole new dimension of depth to the song and leave room for Bob’s guitars to venture into something other than power chords, which ultimately adds color to the song. This sixth song rehashes a Petra theme seen in other songs, gracefully confronting the listener regarding the brevity of the time we have on this earth and the ever-present challenge to make the most of it. “I Will Seek You” smacks of a praise song that’s been skillfully converted to rock in all the right places. Melodious choruses of worshipful lyrics atop a very Petra musical arrangement seem almost in conflict at times. And yet, the easily heard worship message cuts through the sea of hard rock guitars and drum fills courtesy of Palacios’ mixing adeptness. “I will seek You / I will find You / I will follow what I know is true / I will seek You / Like I used to / I will worship You”.

“Till Everything I Do” is the closest Jekyll and Hyde comes to a ballad with its acoustic guitars and a tempo actually below 150 beats per minute. This single break in the non-stop intensity gives us a look at the heart of Petra in this introspective song of even more praise to their God. “One by one You chip away at the edges of my heart / Till You see the hardness and the willfulness depart”. John Schlitt sings of the universal themes: pride, righteous living, and a desire to “grow closer to the image You intended for me”. At just over three minutes, the only complaint I really have is that the song is too short.

While much of the album’s lyrics are simplistic in form and cliché in presentation, they’re true to the Petra legacy. That’s part of what Petra fans have come to love and enjoy listening to. There’s nothing difficult to understand, nothing vague or ambiguous about these songs. They’re out front just like Petra has always been. Fans of the late 80’s and early 90’s Petra records such as “This Means War”, “Beyond Belief”, and “Unseen Power” will enjoy this album, as their last full-length release and as a return to the Petra they grew up with (Petra officially announced their retirement in 2005) . While Jekyll and Hyde may not rank amongst the greatest accomplishments of the 33 year career of the band, it would be an understatement to say that with the help of a few Aussie friends, Petra went out with a bang.

Music Review: Switchfoot's "Legend of Chin"

2005-08-01T09:40:00.000-07:00

Chins Everywhere Will Never Be the Same

Long before the WB’s summer spectacular “Pepsi Smash”, before their arrival on the Top 50 Billboard Sales charts, and certainly before soundtrack appearances on multiple major motion pictures and primetime television dramas…there was ‘Chin’. Switchfoot’s 1997 debut release on Re:Think Records, The Legend of Chin, is possibly the most overlooked masterpiece in Christian music. Or at least it was before the bottom dropped out of this well-kept secret. The San Diego surf-scene inspiration for this 11 track LP won’t go unnoticed or unappreciated by listeners. From the soothing melodic tones of Jon Foreman’s creamy vocals on, “You” to the satirical grimace-inducing antics of “Chem 6A,” this album is cram packed with rock and roll goodness.

Upon picking up the album, I remarked at the title The Legend of Chin and remember pondering just whose chin they were referring to. I popped on the headphones at the in-store music display. Oddly enough, the opening track on the album, “Bomb” is just that. Luckily I gave the whole album a thorough listen before making a judgment call based on the opening song (which coincidentally, on a debut CD, is usually the best). “Bomb” is a discombobulated but energetic tune utilizing dissident chord changes between chorus and verse and poor transitions from one section of the song to the next. This one song’s short-comings however are dwarfed by the album’s overall tone, inflection and feel.

The second track, “Chem 6A,” which later came to be a single, had my chin along with my jaw gaping open in awe as I read along with the lyrics. This comical take on a generation inundated by modern distractions and a lack of desire to engage with the world is cleverly pieced together, flows well and is guaranteed to make you smile. The mature understanding of a situation and the ability to communicate a message to the listener in a way that’s not oppressive but encouraging, even humorous, is one of the stronger things Switchfoot’s lyrics bring to the table in this album.

“Underwater” is a zany little ditty whose clever use of effects processors on the drums in the first verse really gives one the feeling of being just that, under water. Once again Jon’s lyrics and delivery really make the difference on this tune about a girl who’s been thoroughly and frequently disappointed with life. Despite the serious nature of the subject matter, the poppy beat and layering harmonies make this a song you can really tap your steering wheel to and sing along with in traffic. “Underwater” transitions well into the fourth track, “Edge of My Seat”. Stellar production and skillful guitar work hold even the most ‘attention deficit’ of listeners’ attentions. The nostalgic “Home” opens with an acoustic intro and utilizes the band’s strength of impacting with simplicity. “Might Have Ben Hur,” a clever play on words, shows off another side of Switchfoot’s talents both lyrically and musically with great dynamic changes that transition well and a sentimental side to Forman’s lyrical prowess.

The second half of the album kicks off with an amazing “question and answer” pair of songs. “Life and Love and Why” departs from the conventional ‘verse-chorus-verse’ song map and begs the question “could it be true / can life be new / could it be all that I am / is in you” and immediately, rarely one to leave an audience with ambiguity, Switchfoot answers the question in a seamless transition to the song “You,” which proposes the answer to the question “sometimes ignorance rings true / but hope is not in what I know / not in me…in you” leaving the listener with the profound truths of knowledge, peace, self-actualization and God. This two-song series is perhaps the crowning jewel of an album speckled with accolades, simultaneously giving the listener the most thought-provoking moment and perhaps the catchiest melodies of the entire album.

In the end “Chin” turned out to be long-time childhood San Diego friend of the band Willis Chin and the tenth track on the LP is a playful tribute to this acquaintance. “Don’t be There” is a fitting closing ballad for the band’s under appreciated but beautiful first assortment of songs. Overall, smart decision making on musical arrangements, catchy melodies, thought-provoking, emotionally delivered lyrics and quality production make The Legend of Chin a “must have” for any Switchfoot fan and a staple in the CD collections of music lovers worldwide. Since the bulleting success of the band with their fourth album, Meant to Live, their first album has been re-released along with their second and third in the 3-album box set The Early Years: 1997-2000, which I can’t recommend highly enough.

The Naivety of My Adulthood

2005-02-06T20:28:00.002-08:00

I wrote that first chapter in 1999 as part of a college assignment for a Tech school English class. English classes in Tech schools are funny things. They’re necessary for official accreditation however, it’s not exactly their prize-winning roses, either. It’s a bit like grabbing the steamed carrots in the buffet line to make your selection look well-rounded; even though you and I both know the cafeteria ladies are going to get a kick out of disposing of our untouched bowl of steamed carrots along with the cheesecake and fried chicken remains. This English was particularly a funny thing. The teacher broke her ankle in a “skiing accident” within the first three weeks of class and insisted on wearing shorts to class and then sitting in a rather inappropriate matter (long story and a rabbit trail not worth expanding upon). Anyway, shortly after she began taking a collection for some sort of charity fund. I didn’t pay a whole lot of attention at the time so I couldn’t tell you what the fund exactly was. She raised quite a bit of money I understand. One student was so touched she gave $300.00 to the fund. One morning a student accidentally left her purse in this teacher’s class. The teacher took the money, the purse and fled to Canada in a Hertz rental car. I guess the point I’m trying to make is maybe we should all pay a little more attention to those steamed carrots….or not bother putting them on our tray in the first place.

My perspective on life has changed some since that first chapter (which I fully intended to be the last without losing a wink of sleep). Despite her minor character flaws (dishonesty, theft, indecency among what I hope is not too many others) this “teacher” may have been on to something with requiring the class to start their auto-biography. So, with some minor reluctance, I’m going to expand a little bit on this thesis and see where it goes.

My fiancé and I both agreed that October was entirely too long to wait. So we got married on July 20th, 1999. It was a Saturday and the nearest to glitch-free I’d ever seen a wedding accomplish. Aside from the stage nearly catching fire by an over zealous candelabra, it went relatively smoothly (sounds worse that it was). The reception was great. I think. I honestly don’t remember as much as I thought I would about the whole day. The reception was held in the acre backyard of an elderly woman from the church. My dad played bass in the wedding band and enthusiastically led the party in “Don’t Gimme No Lines and Keep Your Hands to Yourself”. Cute. The cake was overkill and the ice cream was a huge hit, typifying the July wedding.
When we returned from the honeymoon I began looking for a job. I had an internship in college with a local government agency working on their computer networks. And although they had offered me a permanent full time position, I turned it down and took a job running the computer network of a small, 10-branch, local credit union. My boss, as I came to discover, was a smug, formal, homosexual, spineless guy trying to talk himself out of his receding hairline. He made promises he did not keep. He made commitments and committed others to more than he/we were capable of fulfilling. He never once stood up for those under him and always caved and took the side of those providing the pressure. He took credit for our work and lied to upper management about our progress. I was there one year before I accepted a position at the local hospital running the computer network systems there. I like it there. My boss is great and I think I’ll stay and work my way up the ranks, despite the fact that one of my cow-orkers is a pimple on the face of progress and refuses to get out of her chair and do anything. But that’s for another chapter. I’ve been very happy with my marriage thus far. We’ve had our fair share of disputes, arguments and yes, even fights. But so did Ricky and Lucy, Ronald and Nancy, Papa and Mrs. Smurf, and on and on and on.

The Naivety of My Youth

2005-02-06T20:28:00.001-08:00

“What’s Love Got to Do With It?” It may seem odd, but the first memory I can recall having is hearing that song by Tina Turner. I must have been about 3. I don’t really know why this is my first memory that I can still recall (and actually understand it), but it’s only fitting that it has to do with music. Music has become a fairly big part of my life. Not the biggest, but I definitely couldn’t write a paper without mentioning it. For the sake of this blog, I’m going to remain anonymous. But let’s just say, for the sake of argument, that my name’s Joe.
I was born in Jacksonville, FL on September 28, 1979 in Orange County Hospital just a few minutes before September 29th. My dad, was in the Navy at the time and my had just been medically discharged due to foot problems that she still has to this day. Because I was a military brat, we moved around a lot from Naval base to Naval base. I have lived in Jacksonville, FL; Norfolk, VA; MD; Long Island, NY; San Antonio & Corpus Christi, TX; Louisville, KY; New Orleans, LA; Vancouver, WA and came very close to living in Anchorage, AK and Buffalo, NY. My dad later transferred to the Coast Guard when his term with the Navy was up.
My love life consists of inconsistencies. When I was 6 years old my best friend was Nicole. We called each other boyfriend and girlfriend, but really had no clue. When I was 9 I thought I was in love for the first time with Michelle, a curly headed girl in my third grade class. We were as serious as 2nd graders get for awhile, until she found a cuter guy in the 3rd grade, then suddenly the feeling was not mutual with her. In 5th grade my infatuation was with Jennifer, 6th grade it was Tiffany (only lasted a few months and don’t remember her last name). Hang on, I’m almost done, there is a point here. When I was in 7th grade, 13 years old, I met my future wife. We started dating at a Christian Music festival with our youth group. We attend the same church. On June 21st of this year in Astoria during a gorgeous sunset on the beach and fireworks in the background, I did the whole down-on-one-knee thing and proposed to fiancé. Her first father who died when she was 5 years. She’s the most wonderful person in my life. I don’t know where I’d be, or what I’d do without her. I just can’t imagine my life without loving her. Anyway, she is a missionary’s daughter and after we had been dating for about 9 months she moved to Budapest, Hungary and was there on and off for 5+ years. She came back to the states roughly once every year for about a month or two each visit. And we Emailed daily and phoned monthly so we kept in touch pretty well. She came back for good last May and I am glad she did. Many people react quite surprised when I explain we’ve been dating for 5 years since we were 13 and 14 years old and that it has been a long-distance relationship for over half of the 5 years. Our marriage date is set for October 23rd, 1999 (a week and a half after my college graduation).

When she first left for Budapest, I needed something to fill this enormous void in my life. I took up the guitar that summer. I spent all my time, energy and efforts on learning how to play and spent all my money on new and better equipment. I now have quite an array of guitars and guitar-related toys. It has become the ultimate form of expression for me. My creativity comes out in my song-writing. Through it I reveal my feelings for my fiancée, project my desires, complaints, aspirations, share my religious beliefs and let out my frustrations. If I could do all my writing assignments in the form of a song, I’d enjoy writing that much more.
My belief system is a very big part of who I am. I am a Christian and strongly devoted to the gospel of Christ. However, I realize that projecting this view on people many times just frustrates and annoys them more than convinces them to think as I do. However, if asked, I can go on and on about it. And my political beliefs follow my religious beliefs as well. I’m a conservative. Not a radical one, and I do not claim to be a Republican. But I am very conservative and it may show in some of my writings.

The most exciting thing that has ever happened to me was when I was 14 years old. I played hooky from the 8th grade one day and wasn’t the least bit prepared for the consequences of this action. I told my mother I felt sick and after much arguing she allowed me to stay home. Around 10:30AM that day I was still in bed when a knocking at the door woke me up. The dog was barking like crazy at the door and I have no doubt that Rocky was actually what awoke me. I lugged myself out of bed and waddled my way to the door of my room, roughly 10 ft. from the front door where a balding man was knocking at the door. I just stood there, suffering from “not-a-morning-person” hair. Suddenly he opened the screen door and checked the door handle to see if it was locked, which it was. I remember thinking “This guy’s got a lot of nerve!” But I just stood there with a stupid looking “Chuck Norstadt” kind of blank stare. Right about then Albert Finley began bashing his shoulder into the door. Now, the dog’s going nuts. After 3 attempts, he does not open the door, but breaks the door jam and it flies off the hinges of the house and falls to my mother’s kitchen floor sending my fearless dog whimpering to the back room. He made it about 3 feet in the house when he saw me just standing there bad hair, morning breath and all! Then he looked at me. Terror became a glaze over my eyes. Would he come after me? Could he have a gun? Should I say something? It was a bit like a first date. I kept waiting for him to say something. But what? Sorry??? After about 4 whole seconds that seemed to have lasted hours, I swallowed my fear and yelled at the top of my lungs…”Get the hell out of my house!!!” I was bluffing. “Please run away” I thought to myself. The gamble worked. As he stumbled to his ’78 Mustang II (ugly cars) I ran to the window and jotted down the license plate number. The police came and we arrested the guy about 2 hours later. I refer to that story as the worst wake-up call I ever had.

The Naivety of my Parenthood

2005-02-06T20:28:00.000-08:00

Seeing a theme are you? Not sure when I started chapter 2. But tonight I’m writing in the heat of a late August evening in 2002. We’ve been married three years and our 6 month old son is having a difficult night. He’s teething. The wife’s in the living room with him in her lap, as she reads the “bug squasher” medical encyclopedia seeing how we can appease him. It’s pretty much bedtime and since we’re all awake I figured I’d pay the bills since they really need to go out tomorrow morning. In doing so I received a late notice on one and tried to look up the account online, but couldn’t remember my password for the web access. Started a Search on my computer and somehow pulled up this silly excuse of an auto-biography. How this file came up from a search on “Citibank” is really beyond me. I just switched to Windows XP. I haven’t decided if I like it or not yet. *Rabbit trail* Anyway, my son has been quite a delight. He smiles quite often and everyone who meets him falls in love. Up until recently I’ve been able to dodge all of the really bad “#2” diapers. Not tonight. I happened to be holding him, trying to get him to say “Dad” when his entire face contorted into this look of severe concentration. As if he was psychically trying to peal the paint off the interior walls. My mind raced for rhetorical excuses for that look. But I knew. Deep down in a place I didn’t want to admit to….I knew. What followed was a smell that nearly did peal the interior paint off the walls. And then it was finished. “Finally!” my wife was secretly thinking to herself. “You’re holding him, you change him.” How could something so large and composed of purely disgusting material come out of such an innocent, cute little boy. And how in the world did that all fit in him, anyway?! I begged, I pleaded, I offered up to a thousand dollars cash if she would just take him and let me know when she was through. No dice. This was an experience she had obviously been waiting to put me through. Two diapers and a couple dozen wet wipes later I had him successfully changed. And to my chagrin I’m quite sure there’s many more to come. Potty training just got bumped up several notches on my exhaustive list of priorities. See, we’re trying to buy a house. Mortgage brokers, financial consultants, banks and anybody else in the world that tries to estimate your approximate appropriate monthly mortgage payment amount without actually looking at your monthly expenditures, needs to go back to second grade and learn remedial subtraction. I’m bitter. We want a house, everyone tells us we can afford one, but when I check their work I realize just how they came to their conclusion. With imaginary numbers. That’s right. Let me pull an “estimated monthly grocery bill” out of my posterior for you. There you go! You don’t need more than $50.00 for food, do you??
Did I mention how cute my kid is? Watching him being born was the most amazing thing on earth. I’ve gone from wanting 2 to possibly 4 kids after this experience. He’s been a real joy. But, man, if he didn’t have us scared out of our minds when he was first born. 5 weeks eager, as a co-worker at my new job calls it. Oh did I forget to mention? The hospital didn’t work out. Anyway, being 5 weeks early comes a whole host of “Oh my God, what’s that tube going into his for?” kinds of questions. He had wires, and tubes and at one point he had to wear these sunglasses that covered his forehead to his nose and went ear-to-ear. They called it “jaundice”. Seeing your brand new son go through the kinds of torture you only see on the medical channel is like……..is not describable through any analogy that I can come up with. Never before then have I truly ever fallen to my knees, gushing in tears that came between gasps for air, yelling and screaming my pleas that the life of my new son be spared and that he be allowed to live a life that I take for granted. Never before have I asked, and absolutely without hesitation meant it when I begged God to allow me to trade places with someone in a condition like my son was. Never before that moment did I truly understand the kind of pain I must have put my father through. And the kind of pain I put my God through, everyday. And never did I appreciate more the sacrifice He made when His son died on that cross. And if that was not hard enough, then comes the realization that Christ died, and God gave up his son…..for me. The unworthy, ungrateful, unclean individual that I am, with unmentionable and innumerable flaws.
Perhaps I will expand upon this chapter later. Or perhaps, 2 years from now (hopefully sitting in a house I’m buying back from a bank) I’ll simply jump back in with Chapter 4. Or perhaps this concludes my auto-biography. In which case, I need to go finish my bill paying. So goodnight and God bless.