-happy birthday to bomar... 29 again! thank goodness for friends, family, and loved ones. no man's an island, etc. etc. etc. my latest movie recommendation is "j'ai ete au bal (i went to the dance)"... it's a documentary about the history of cajun/zydeco. exhilarating!
-in less exhilarating news, why why why? here we go again. drummer number eight. i was tempted to go into a drummer diatribe, a cynical slideshow, a la nicholson in "carnal knowledge," of the many who've passed by... but that wouldn't be kosher. not copacetic. not kind. it would be rudely satisfying only to me, and quickly followed by guilt, inappropriate... wise, warm, crackling-with-life sister b said recently, "if we knew all, we'd forgive all." of course, i don't know the full story of why number seven is vacillating in his commitment. i just need to get this band out of his way... & begin the search for number eight, i guess!
-i asked my friend ruben (guaderrama) if it'd be easier to find steady, enthusiastic musical buddies if i lived down south, but he replied grimly, "no, it'd just be more complicated." even he is going solo these days, after near-40 years playing with his right hand man & life-long best friend. even that has dried up! i hear mento's drummer caesareo (sp) wrote a blog on the topic of "the cat versus the..." canary? the committed music lover versus the leaf in the wind-- brian p knows. i'm sure it's well-worth reading. you could find the link through nl belardes' site, i'd bet!
-so where is the bako equivalent of jerry angel? bill bateman? lisa pankratz? jose, why do you live in orange county??? or even, why are we here in backwardsville? why don't folks just want to play traditional, fun, rocking music here, get together and stomp feet, pound and saw, yell and purr and growl, tell stories in song, make melodies, make folks jump, dance and smile? so many drummers we've had have been held back by Life stuff like money, disapproving other halves, the drive... it really stinks. i guess the days of sitting on the porch playing all night are long gone. que lastima, as some would say.
- anyway, jose plays with cattie ness. he is not just a great drummer, but a quick study and a nice dude, also willing to drive and drive for the prospect of putting on a fun gig. bruce jones, olen taylor, you're local, you're the best, come back! you've rested long enough... haven't you? ...........oh well. i'll just watch movies for a while to keep the joy level up, i spose. and celebrate halloween, and the beginning of holidays season... all is not lost...
-however, there's this other problem: for the past couple of months, i've wished i could somehow live without my head, a reverse of "the brain that wouldn't die" -- just a torso walking around and pounding the keys. the pain in my skull is constant. it moves, too -- one day in the face, next in my ears, then over the eye socket. i told a recent drummer, a happy kind of guy, i'm looking at sinus surgery & he asked, "will that change your singing voice?" didn't even consider that, but the pain must go! the psychic pain of daily life can be enough at times. (ha! spoiled middle class american complaining... i really have no right, yet i do it!) adding physical pain to the mixture... well, what for, if it can be avoided, what for? the pain -- be it in my sinus cavities or sitting on a drummer's saddle -- must go.
-ha! there's my cheap shot. see? now i feel guilty. shouldna said it, but i did. at least keith moon exploded after putting in hundreds, thousands of heavy-pounding shows.... but i suppose he was keith moon, & exceptional, committed musicians are who they are for a reason. that fire & dedication is what separates them, maybe... but again, doesn't anybody just want to get together and make some happy noise, some rocking country blues, some hepped up, melancholy, jumping life music, just to do it, just for the wonderful release and pleasure of doing it?... the weird captain howdy clown face on the bootleg cover reflects the music-less situation. he's dressed for fun, but just sitting there... waiting. oh well. life goes on... though i complain here, as long as you and i are upright and breathing, there's hope. so it's movies for now, til the music comes back.
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