Despite the last couple of entries, everything hasn't been Downersville and Bitterberg here in Jimbuck2. Just nearly everything.
The good news is... I've booked vacation time for the last two weeks of June. I'm finally taking an overseas trip! Going to London, and I also plan to take a side-trip to Dublin while I'm there.
This will be my first trip across the pond. I probably wouldn't be able to swing it if it weren't for the fact that I have a friend to stay with in London. Air fares were pretty affordable, too, compared to July, so I pulled the trigger and booked the flight.
The general plan is to spend the first several days seeing the sights of Londontown, then hop over to Dublin for maybe 4 or 5 days, then back to London for a few more days. Flights to Dublin are only about $70 return, so that's pretty good. I was thinking it would be more romantic to take a train to Liverpool, see a few sights there (apparently there was some famous band from said town), then take a ferry across the Irish Sea. But after some research, I discovered that the ferry ride takes about eight hours. That's a waste of prime Guinness-guzzling time.
The only problem is that it's difficult to book any accommodations in Dublin, not knowing exactly which days I'll be heading over there. And that sorta depends on the lay of the land when I get to London. I'm not sure if I'll need to book anything that far ahead. Maybe I can make arrangements once I get to London. Not sure if I want to assume that. More research is needed. Got some websites about Dublin hostels and B&Bs. Got a few recommendation about places to stay in the Temple Bar district. I may also saunter into a travel agency here and enquire about a "possible" trip to Ireland, and pick their brains.
But it's all very exciting. I'm really looking forward to it. I've been dying to go to Dublin for ages. I think it'll be incredible to be in the Mother Country, diggin' my roots, hoisting a pint of Guinness in a Dublin pub. And, of course, lots to see and do in London. Abbey Road, baby! Stone'enge! Piccadilly and all the rest. Should be cool. Should I take some courses before I go over, so I can speak the language?
I may even try to write a few travel articles out of it; maybe start a new career! I've always been told by people who've read certain of my articles that they've "felt like they were there." I love doing that--writing about a place or an event, trying to capture the essence of what it was like to be there: the sounds, the sights, the smells, what it felt like. So maybe my calling is to be a travel writer. I could handle that.
Toodles.
Sunday, May 28, 2006
Friday, May 19, 2006
After Midnight
It's been a rough couple of weeks. Lots of "good-byes." My cat, Midnight, was about 16 or 17 years old, possibly even older. I had adopted him when he was about eight years old. I had known for some time that I would need to make "that decision" one of these days--and that time had come. The day before I learned about the band nonsense, I made the call.
A couple of years ago he had been diagnosed with severe arthritis in his knees and his elbows. The vets had said it was the worst they'd ever seen in a cat. We had him on some very powerful meds, anti-inflammatories usually given to dogs, but could be safely given to larger cats. And Mid was a large cat. It seemed to help somewhat.
Then he was diagnosed with a thyroid condition. Got some meds for that. Then a mild case of diabetes. More meds and special food. Then he developed some sort of respiratory ailment, which an x-ray seemed to suggest was due to a possible growth in his chest cavity. Those symptoms seemed to have cleared up, oddly, but then he developed a nasty skin infection, probably due to his immune system being weakened as a result of his other ailments. And that's not to mention the cyst he had to have removed from his back after it burst.
Pictured here with his stylish bandage/girdle after the cyst surgery. Doesn't he look just thrilled to be photo'd in all his glory.
The poor guy. He battled through a lot of problems, and he was a real trooper. Didn't really complain that much. But his various health problems had finally just gotten the better of him. Mostly it was the arthritis. His mobility was going steadily downhill. I found him the shallowest litter box I could, to make it easier for him to get in and out. And even then he sometimes had trouble. I had to build him a "cat ladder" (sort of like a salmon ladder), so he could get up and down off the couch on his own--just an old trunk and a smaller box arranged like steps.
I covered them with towels so his footing was secure. Pretty funny, actually, but effective.
But in the past few months, he really seemed to be having more pain. There were times when he was just unable to get himself up on his feet. And he would complain more. I wasn't sure how, or even if, I'd know when the time had come, but I always told myself that when I sensed his discomfort had crossed the line into pain, it would be time to end his suffering.
It was a pretty tough day. The vet and the staff had gotten to know us pretty well over the past couple of years, and they were so incredibly respectful, gentle and sympathetic. I stayed in the room with Mid and petted him as his body relaxed and he went limp. He looked very peaceful. The walk back from the vet's, an empty cat carrier swinging too lightly from my hand, was about as sad a journey as I can recall lately.
I sure miss the big guy. The apartment seems pretty empty without him. During the week afterwards, I kept turning around at my desk thinking I'd see him sleeping on the couch. Even now, when I come home, there's a split second as I turn the doorknob and enter the room, that I think he'll be there, waiting for me. You sure get attached to those critters.
So long, old friend.
A couple of years ago he had been diagnosed with severe arthritis in his knees and his elbows. The vets had said it was the worst they'd ever seen in a cat. We had him on some very powerful meds, anti-inflammatories usually given to dogs, but could be safely given to larger cats. And Mid was a large cat. It seemed to help somewhat.
Then he was diagnosed with a thyroid condition. Got some meds for that. Then a mild case of diabetes. More meds and special food. Then he developed some sort of respiratory ailment, which an x-ray seemed to suggest was due to a possible growth in his chest cavity. Those symptoms seemed to have cleared up, oddly, but then he developed a nasty skin infection, probably due to his immune system being weakened as a result of his other ailments. And that's not to mention the cyst he had to have removed from his back after it burst.
Pictured here with his stylish bandage/girdle after the cyst surgery. Doesn't he look just thrilled to be photo'd in all his glory.
The poor guy. He battled through a lot of problems, and he was a real trooper. Didn't really complain that much. But his various health problems had finally just gotten the better of him. Mostly it was the arthritis. His mobility was going steadily downhill. I found him the shallowest litter box I could, to make it easier for him to get in and out. And even then he sometimes had trouble. I had to build him a "cat ladder" (sort of like a salmon ladder), so he could get up and down off the couch on his own--just an old trunk and a smaller box arranged like steps.
I covered them with towels so his footing was secure. Pretty funny, actually, but effective.
But in the past few months, he really seemed to be having more pain. There were times when he was just unable to get himself up on his feet. And he would complain more. I wasn't sure how, or even if, I'd know when the time had come, but I always told myself that when I sensed his discomfort had crossed the line into pain, it would be time to end his suffering.
It was a pretty tough day. The vet and the staff had gotten to know us pretty well over the past couple of years, and they were so incredibly respectful, gentle and sympathetic. I stayed in the room with Mid and petted him as his body relaxed and he went limp. He looked very peaceful. The walk back from the vet's, an empty cat carrier swinging too lightly from my hand, was about as sad a journey as I can recall lately.
I sure miss the big guy. The apartment seems pretty empty without him. During the week afterwards, I kept turning around at my desk thinking I'd see him sleeping on the couch. Even now, when I come home, there's a split second as I turn the doorknob and enter the room, that I think he'll be there, waiting for me. You sure get attached to those critters.
So long, old friend.
The Ides of May
The Dick Ellis Revival played Grossman's last night. How did it go? I have no idea. Y'see, I'm no longer in the band.
I've been turfed from the band I helped start.
Boag and I met up a few weeks ago at The Only Cafe, ostensibly to discuss our live show, but instead I was informed that most of the other members of the band had held a secret meeting and told Boag that I was no longer welcome in the band. Apparently the charges were that my playing was not up to snuff and that I had a bad attitude, that I was "uptight."
As for the first charge, nobody's more critical of my playing than I am. I've had some bad nights, or parts of nights, and I've been really disappointed with myself on those nights. But my playing hasn't been bad all the time, and at times I think it's been pretty good. I've even been complimented on my playing on occasion. I'm told that some members of the band have had "concerns" with my playing from the beginning. That was almost two years ago. How does one nurse these concerns for two years? I don't think my playing has been so uniformly bad as to warrant being kicked out of the band. I'm no Jimmy Page, but that just seems like a smokescreen.
Moreover, questions have been raised about the playing of other people in the band, and their attitudes as well. I have actually stood up for said members and suggested that a conversation with them might be the best way to address the concerns. This is the thanks I get for my sense of loyalty and fairness.
As for the second charge, I suppose it's different sides of the same coin. Some of them felt I was too uptight, and I thought some of them were too slack. Some of those guys seem happy to keep things loose and spontaneous on stage. And that's fine; it has its place. There's room for that, but there are other things that you need to put some work into, to put some effort and thought into, and it seems like I was always pushing for that, to get our arrangements down, for instance, whereas some others don't want to work that hard, or something. Granted, we had difficulty getting together for rehearsals--we haven't had a real rehearsal since late February--and that's just part of life in a band where people have jobs and real lives. But it seemed like I just cared more about how we sounded, and I didn't like it when we were not as good as we could have been. I figure if you're gonna do something, do it well. And when we played Grossman's, I was usually the only person suggesting that we actually do a proper sound check. I'm the rookie. Everyone else in the band has been playing for years, yet no one seemed to care enough to make sure that we sounded as good as we could. I just don't understand that.
I guess maybe that's part of the problem. Most of the other people in the band have been playing for years, have been in several bands, some may feel that they've "been there, done that" or that they've had their shot, and this was just a band to have fun with. Most are also in at least one other band. But this was the only band I was in. I was 100% committed to it, and I wanted it to be as good as it could be. For all of this, and for being resistant to and critical of some of Boag's bad judgments on stage, I'm branded as being "uptight."
I'm told that my former bandmates all appreciate and admire the dedication and commitment I brought to the band. That's nice. Too bad it wasn't a 2-way street. It would've been nice if the band members could have shown a little dedication to me in return, for all I did for the band: bringing songs to cover, writing songs, working out arrangements, designing posters, burning CDs, contributing to the website, etc. If there was a problem, they could have simply talked to me about it. That's what adults and friends do. You see if the situation can be resolved. Maybe it can't, but at least you show them the respect of dealing with it in a human and decent manner. I find it particularly classless that they didn't even have the decency to address it with me face-to-face.
It's pretty disheartening, especially since I considered some of those people to be friends, and had helped them out in personal matters, as they had helped me at times as well. Some of them had even told me that they agreed with some of my concerns about the band and our stage antics.
In the aftermath of all this I've been listening to a lot of Neil Young for some reason, especially his stuff with Crazy Horse, and re-reading parts of his highly recommended bio "Shakey", by Jimmy McDonough. Here's a guy who stuck to his vision, no matter what. If things weren't being done the way he thought they should be, he walked. And then he put himself in a position where he could have absolute control over his music. If I end up in another band or musical project of some sort, I think it'll have to be that kind of approach for me. I accepted compromise in this band, but I have very strong ideas and opinions when it comes to music, how it should sound and how it should be. I don't think I could be in another band unless I was 100% onboard about its direction and its music. So that either means starting my own band, or hooking up with people who are very much like-minded. In the case of the latter, I hope I can trust them.
I also re-watched the great Neil Young & Crazy Horse film "Year of the Horse", by Jim Jarmusch. Part concert film, part documentary. There are a couple of scenes where Neil and the band, principly bass player Billy Talbot, are almost at each other's throats over messed up arrangements on stage. In one scene, Neil is pissed because Talbot messed up. They're yelling at each other backstage. Neil: "Why did I rehearse it with you guys for three hours this afternoon? What was I doin', just jerkin' off?!" Talbot: "All I'm sayin' is, I didn't mess up any more than anyone else! I knew the arrangement as well as anybody else!"
Crazy Horse is not the greatest band in the world. They make mistakes. But Neil and the Horse have been playing together for 35 years, and something magic happens when they play together. What I saw there was a group of musicians who cared enough about their music to argue about it. To fight for it, so it's as good as it can be. But I guess they're all "uptight."
I need to find a band like that. Not one that yells a lot, necessarily, but one that cares enough to make it special, to make it as good as it can be.
So I'll leave the last words to Neil:
I've been turfed from the band I helped start.
Boag and I met up a few weeks ago at The Only Cafe, ostensibly to discuss our live show, but instead I was informed that most of the other members of the band had held a secret meeting and told Boag that I was no longer welcome in the band. Apparently the charges were that my playing was not up to snuff and that I had a bad attitude, that I was "uptight."
As for the first charge, nobody's more critical of my playing than I am. I've had some bad nights, or parts of nights, and I've been really disappointed with myself on those nights. But my playing hasn't been bad all the time, and at times I think it's been pretty good. I've even been complimented on my playing on occasion. I'm told that some members of the band have had "concerns" with my playing from the beginning. That was almost two years ago. How does one nurse these concerns for two years? I don't think my playing has been so uniformly bad as to warrant being kicked out of the band. I'm no Jimmy Page, but that just seems like a smokescreen.
Moreover, questions have been raised about the playing of other people in the band, and their attitudes as well. I have actually stood up for said members and suggested that a conversation with them might be the best way to address the concerns. This is the thanks I get for my sense of loyalty and fairness.
As for the second charge, I suppose it's different sides of the same coin. Some of them felt I was too uptight, and I thought some of them were too slack. Some of those guys seem happy to keep things loose and spontaneous on stage. And that's fine; it has its place. There's room for that, but there are other things that you need to put some work into, to put some effort and thought into, and it seems like I was always pushing for that, to get our arrangements down, for instance, whereas some others don't want to work that hard, or something. Granted, we had difficulty getting together for rehearsals--we haven't had a real rehearsal since late February--and that's just part of life in a band where people have jobs and real lives. But it seemed like I just cared more about how we sounded, and I didn't like it when we were not as good as we could have been. I figure if you're gonna do something, do it well. And when we played Grossman's, I was usually the only person suggesting that we actually do a proper sound check. I'm the rookie. Everyone else in the band has been playing for years, yet no one seemed to care enough to make sure that we sounded as good as we could. I just don't understand that.
I guess maybe that's part of the problem. Most of the other people in the band have been playing for years, have been in several bands, some may feel that they've "been there, done that" or that they've had their shot, and this was just a band to have fun with. Most are also in at least one other band. But this was the only band I was in. I was 100% committed to it, and I wanted it to be as good as it could be. For all of this, and for being resistant to and critical of some of Boag's bad judgments on stage, I'm branded as being "uptight."
I'm told that my former bandmates all appreciate and admire the dedication and commitment I brought to the band. That's nice. Too bad it wasn't a 2-way street. It would've been nice if the band members could have shown a little dedication to me in return, for all I did for the band: bringing songs to cover, writing songs, working out arrangements, designing posters, burning CDs, contributing to the website, etc. If there was a problem, they could have simply talked to me about it. That's what adults and friends do. You see if the situation can be resolved. Maybe it can't, but at least you show them the respect of dealing with it in a human and decent manner. I find it particularly classless that they didn't even have the decency to address it with me face-to-face.
It's pretty disheartening, especially since I considered some of those people to be friends, and had helped them out in personal matters, as they had helped me at times as well. Some of them had even told me that they agreed with some of my concerns about the band and our stage antics.
In the aftermath of all this I've been listening to a lot of Neil Young for some reason, especially his stuff with Crazy Horse, and re-reading parts of his highly recommended bio "Shakey", by Jimmy McDonough. Here's a guy who stuck to his vision, no matter what. If things weren't being done the way he thought they should be, he walked. And then he put himself in a position where he could have absolute control over his music. If I end up in another band or musical project of some sort, I think it'll have to be that kind of approach for me. I accepted compromise in this band, but I have very strong ideas and opinions when it comes to music, how it should sound and how it should be. I don't think I could be in another band unless I was 100% onboard about its direction and its music. So that either means starting my own band, or hooking up with people who are very much like-minded. In the case of the latter, I hope I can trust them.
I also re-watched the great Neil Young & Crazy Horse film "Year of the Horse", by Jim Jarmusch. Part concert film, part documentary. There are a couple of scenes where Neil and the band, principly bass player Billy Talbot, are almost at each other's throats over messed up arrangements on stage. In one scene, Neil is pissed because Talbot messed up. They're yelling at each other backstage. Neil: "Why did I rehearse it with you guys for three hours this afternoon? What was I doin', just jerkin' off?!" Talbot: "All I'm sayin' is, I didn't mess up any more than anyone else! I knew the arrangement as well as anybody else!"
Crazy Horse is not the greatest band in the world. They make mistakes. But Neil and the Horse have been playing together for 35 years, and something magic happens when they play together. What I saw there was a group of musicians who cared enough about their music to argue about it. To fight for it, so it's as good as it can be. But I guess they're all "uptight."
I need to find a band like that. Not one that yells a lot, necessarily, but one that cares enough to make it special, to make it as good as it can be.
So I'll leave the last words to Neil:
I hear some people been talkin' me down,
Bring up my name, pass it 'round.
They don't mention the happy times
They do their thing, I'll do mine.
Ooh baby, that's hard to change
I can't tell them how to feel.
Some get stoned, some get strange,
Sooner or later it all gets real.
Walk on, walk on,
Walk on, walk on.
I remember the good old days,
Stayed up all night gettin' crazed.
Then the money was not so good,
But we still did the best we could.
Ooh baby, that's hard to change
I can't tell them how to feel.
Some get stoned, some get strange,
Sooner or later it all gets real.
Walk on, walk on,
Walk on, walk on.
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