An alert reader kindly reminded me that I have posted absolutely nothing on the Making the Band saga in many many months. In fact, the last post was here. Well, hold your breath no longer, I am about to update you on The Dream. I will say right off that I really enjoy playing with the boys in Searching for Sanity (S4S if you're nasty), I like and respect everyone on a personal and musical level, and I realize that I'm just a hack musician who is lucky that anyone would ever hire them to play "lead" guitar. So, hopefully nobody will get their feelings hurt if I poke some fun at my buddies and fellow musicians. It's all in good fun, and my 3 readers really enjoy a good Spinal Tap story.
This show went GREAT (to me, at least). This was our 2nd show, we opened for a band called "Metaphisc." I like the kids in Metaphisc, a friendly bunch of young musicians who sing about dark subjects with a little S&M thrown in for good measure. To look at them, they don't seem the dark and tortured type - but I'm over the hill so who the hell knows, maybe you really can enjoy life while being angst-ridden. Where many rock bands feature a dual guitar assault, Metaphisc cleverly pounds your earhole with a devastating twin keyboard attack. Nice kids playing good music that I would call progressive industrial. Plus, one of their keyboard players does a thing called "contact juggling" that is difficult to describe, only to say it is cool if not mesmerizing. I say give 'em a listen and check 'em out - if only to check out the contact juggling. 2nd Gig - Tonic Lounge
3rd Gig - Red Room. Wasn't real pleased about how this gig turned out actually. Probably the weakest gig we've played and I'm glad to have that one out of our system. We opened for Keel Over. Keel Over was very good. Great guitar player/singer, great drummer and great bass player. They did a fantastic cover of a Rage Against the Machine tune, which the title escapes me at the moment - Elephants on Parade I think.
Interestingly, Metaphisc opened for us this time. Small world. My brother kinda took a shine to the contact juggler lady in the band and wanted me to hook him up. But, I told him that I really didn't have much pull in the Metaphisc camp.
Our set was not void of Spinal Tap moments. Before we even started, we discovered that we had forgotten the cymbals for the drum set - they were back home in the garage packed up neatly on the floor. Drums without cymbals is like ice cream without cake. The drummer from Keel Over was kind enough to lend us his, but didn't fail to remind us that though we forgot our cymbals, we DID NOT forget the Fog Machine. So, cymbals in hand we went on. The next Spinal Tap moment was courtesy of yours truly, when I AGAIN forgot to switch my amp off standby just like the last show. I AGAIN bombed my 1st solo, and I was starting to get a sorta mental block about the whole "1st solo" thing. At the end of the night we made a whopping 12-dollars - for the whole band. That joint was SMOKY I'm telling your. Fortunately for those of us of advancing age, Oregon has now banned smoking in the clubs, which will allow me to live a few more years I hope.
4th Gig - The Living Room Pub - Oregon City - New Year's Eve. Wow, we had moved up in the world with a boner-fide NYE gig. It came together the day BEFORE when the scheduled band flaked. Somehow we got the call and so on we went. It was the perfect storm, really. For me there was really no time to get nervous and worrisome. One minute I was at work, the next I was packing the Soccer MILF Van and headed to the gig. Before I knew it I had played through the 1st solo without bombing it - mental block officially broken through. This ended up being a super fun gig, and the folks at the Living Room really treated us well with free beers all night. I thought we played very well this night. We went through our set a couple of times, which was great practice, and I was really pleased all around with everyone's performance, and even my own. We even played the "Happy Birthday" song for the pub owner, who was celebrating his B-day.
5th Gig - Tonic Lounge. January 10th. We opened for Thunderstruck, which is an AC/DC tribute band. Man, Thunderstruck are very very good. They sounded awesome. If you closed your eyes you'd think it was Angus and the boys. Definitely check them out if you can. Anyhoo, this was sort of a watershed event in my development as a rock star. There was a pretty good sized crowd here for Thunderstruck. Also, several folks from work showed up, as did some old friends, and even Debbie showed up for this one. Surprise of surprises though was that my parents made an impromptu trip to Portland and surprised me at the gig. This was pretty special I thought. So, all told I knew about 20 or so people among about 200 who came to check out the show. The gig went pretty well - once we got started. We had a Spinal Tap moment right at the get-go when Jeff was having some kind of wardrobe malfunction with his guitar strap. That finally rectified we fired into the set, and it went pretty well after that. I only managed to bomb one solo, but nobody seemed to notice, and besides Smoky the Fog Machine was putting out so much fog who would care? and I even had some nice compliments after the show. My dad seemed to especially dig the show and has since volunteered to "Roadie".
6th Gig - The New Copper Penny. January 12th. This was a "Battle of the Bands," and since we had just gigged two nights previous I was pretty "up" for a good effort. No Need. We were the only band that showed, and Searching for Sanity ROCKED the 5 people in attendance - Jeff's wife, Jeff's buddy, the two bartenders and the manager. Ironically, it was the best gig I ever played up to that point. We sounded real good as well and won by default. The down-side was that we had to PAY FOR OUR OWN BEERS. WTF? We kindly declined to move onto the next level of competition as it was going to be on a Monday and we just didn't feel up for it. To add insult to injury, besides no free beers we didn't even get paid.
7th Gig - The Living Room Pub. Back to the Living Room and my personal favorite venue. The Living Room does not have it's own PA system, so the band has to bring it's own. Fortunately Jeff has a PA. Unfortunately, both speakers curiously crapped out the week previous during rehearsal. Mark, who's daytime gig is Electrical Engineering, assured us that it was a statistical near-impossibility that both speakers would crap out at the same time. But, there you go - two crapped out speakers. After much fussing about with speakers, Rich asked Jeff what this strange box was, this box that he had been putting his beers on all these last 8 months? Jeff replies, "Yes! The Penetrator 3s."
Penetrator 3s? Penetrator 3s? Did somebody just say Penetrator 3s?
Was this not the coolest name that anyone ever called a PA speaker? Well, we strapped on our Penetrator 3s and S4S was back in business sporting a sweet pair of Penetrator 3s.
Got to the gig, and it went pretty well especially considering we had not rehearsed in a couple weeks. Had a few folks from work drop by to check us out. Band sounded good, and I played a real good set, so all's well that ends well. Free beers and a 100 bucks thanks to our trusty Penetrator 3s. I have to say it one more time... Penetrator 3.
Next Gig - March 21st - Tonic Lounge. We open again for Bully and Thunderstruck. This should be a good one! Too bad we can't bring the Penetrator 3s.
I gotta hand it to the kid. For being only 4 years old, Jackson is quite the ponderer of the universe and it's mysterious workings. His older brother, Jordan, is very smart in a scholastic sense. He knocks you over by his easy grasp of the fundamentals - in a parlor-trick kind of way. But, younger brother Jackson is smarter in a worldly-kind-of-how-things-work-sort-of-way. He's a deep thinker. He hears something, and ponders it for days until finally stating out of the blue something like this:
Jackson: Mommy, you can see Jesus' underwear because he doesn't wear pants.
The boy will either grow up to be Pope, or a bumper sticker artist.
Try to imagine Debbie doing Wii Fit Yoga. That's not so hard to imagine - in fact it's kind of a nice mental picture. Now, imagine if you will a 4-year old boy watching and copying his mommy doing Wii Fit Yoga. Now, imagine that said little boy just got out of the tub and is doing Wii Fit Yoga - Butt Nekkid'.
My Aunt Harriette took a fall this weekend. As I write this post, she has made an almost miraculous turnaround considering how it all started. We arrived at Hot Town for our monthly visit. Right before we arrived, Mom and Dad had run down to Auntie's house because she had fallen. I think we had assumed that this was not that serious of a deal, but when the ambulance had to be dispatched Carole and I figured it must be of serious nature, so we went down. I have to admit, I was starvin' Marvin after the trip from Portland. In a very Elaine Benes Joojie Fruit moment, I couldn't go to Auntie's house without at least a handful of chips, I think I might've taken my time, and I will probably never live this down. Imagine my guilt to find that Auntie was unconscious, and would not be breathing save for the quick thinking of the neighbors, family, and the medical pros.
My Auntie is more than an aunt though. My grandmother on my father's side died when I was fairly young. I really did not know her. As I have mentioned before, being a military brat we were far from "home" for many years. During those years and during the subsequent years after we moved back to Hot Town, Aunt Harriette filled the role of my grandmother. I can remember fondly visiting Aunt Harriette and Uncle Hugh on their farm in Birkenfeld. It was here that I broke my first bone whilst climbing around in the hayloft against Uncle's wishes. I also remember them taking me through some God-forsaken logging road into Clatskanie to get my cast removed since the regular roads were closed due to snow and we needed to get that cast removed. That is the kind of people Aunt and Uncle were.
During the military years away, I enjoyed talking to my Auntie on the phone, as she would stay in touch frequently with those long-distance calls. I remember distinctly one such call where I know Dad and Auntie were discussing what Auntie had sent us for Christmas. I put my ear up to the telephone wire to try to hear what she was saying. Hey, I was a child and thought this would work, and I never was that bright of a child! Auntie would always send an incredible Christmas care package every year. Again, this is the kind of person my Auntie is.
When we settled in Hot Town, we literally moved up the street from Auntie, and I would visit her very often during my teenage years. Auntie was always easy for me to talk to and would speak on my level. She was always caring, giving, non-judgemental, and a confidante who would never betray my trust. She also baked fabulous fudge, and there was always a PBJ and can of Coke in the offing whenever I'd drop in. Auntie helped me learn to drive, and was probably the most calm of all my "victims." Auntie's house was always a gathering place for family, and I always loved going there.
Like any good grandmother, she doted on my siblings and I. I know that in the past I have mentioned my father as being the jolly ol' elf when it comes to Christmas. The only person who could ever surpass my father's Christmas generosity would be my Aunt. If the Chase house on Christmas morning was a plethora of giving, then Auntie's house on Christmas eve was a virtual Cornucopia of gift wrap and good cheer.
In recent years we have grown apart. This is my fault, and not by lack of effort on her part. I suppose family, obligations, schedules, and other miscellaneous business has changed my focus. But, these are lame excuses at best. I suppose we tend to take for granted the ones we love. So, Auntie if you ever get around to reading this blog (and I know you check in from time to time), please know that we love you very much and am praying for a speedy recovery, though I know the path may be difficult.
So, when you get a chance, please drop a prayer for my Auntie, because God is listening.
Structural Engineer by day. Family Man by night. 20-something with raging hormones when time permits.
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