4.30.2006
could never describe myself better
4.24.2006
can't shake the feeling
i'm running
out of time.
4.18.2006
from the vaults: dickfish - i got a soda
the only band i've ever been in was called larry grayson's coma and it was born in newton, massachusetts in 2000. mark and i were living in the infamous parsons street house at the time and decided that since we shared a love for music, we might as well buy instruments. real instruments. why should it matter that neither of us knew how to play any? you gotta start somewhere. so he bought a bass and coaxed me into purchasing a drumset. once the set was assembled (thanks, keith!) we determined that the best place for it was in my bedroom, next to my bed.
soon after purchasing the instruments, we learned that adam stachelek played guitar (as well as drums, bass, washtub, triangle, kitchen sink, vaccuum cleaner, etc). adam began to come by and rock out with us. before that, i had no idea what the hell i was doing and mark was better at dirtying his bass than playing it. a few months later, adam ended up moving into the house with us. we bought a 4-track that was set up in my bedroom and we began recording our "jams" (i hate that word but i don't know a better one). my bedroom was our practice space and studio (if you will). i woke up every morning and opened my eyes to a drumset, various mics, a 4-track and a floor covered with wires. i miss that.
lots of bands like to have singers and the coma was no different. throughout its history, lgc rocked out with brett, my brother johnnie and sometimes martha behind the mic (at different intervals). having someone to sing for us was a treat since it didn't occur as frequently as we would have liked.
when we were at our most band-like, johnnie would stop by once a week and we'd work on whatever sounded good the week(s) before. we had so much fun and actually didn't sound that bad for having a rhythm section as wet behind the ears as mark and i were. what added to the fun was a little tradition we started to "warm down" at the end of a practice.
mark and i were huge beta band fans and were fascinated by the stories of them switching instruments with each other mid-song when playing live. we decided that we'd do the same after a jam - everyone would take an instrument that wasn't their primary one and we'd have one last jam for the night. all four of us loved this idea so much that we even gave these new permutations its own band name and told ourselves when lgc made it (wink, wink), we'd open for ourselves with this crazy other band and make double the dough. the name of this band? dickfish. adam coined the term once when he was talking about the creatures at the bottom of an aquarium ("you know, those little dickfish?" "uhhh, what?") and we decided it was the perfect name.
i was hesitant to sing for dickfish, but eventually it was my turn. for this permutation, johnnie manned the drums, mark the guitar, and adam the bass. dickfish material was always improvised, so it took us a while to get going and for me to think of what to "sing". eventually it happened. it was so loud in my bedroom that the other guys didn't hear what i was screaming until they listened to the recording after we finished. but we were definitely on the same page - when they would go from quiet to loud (somehow at the same time - it was uncanny), i'd start screaming and vice versa. i'll never forget how much fun it was to scream at the top of my lungs and not think twice about it. it was quite the release too. i could definitely use some of that right now. it was hot as fuck in my bedroom too. i forgot to mention that.
what was also cool about this version of the 'fish was that i had no prior idea that johnnie could rock the drums nor that mark could play guitar. adam plays anything, so it was no surprise that the bass playing was the most solid part of the song.
i enjoy the 2:53 mark - where i go from a full-on scream back into normal "singing." sweet! i was listening to a lot of pavement and totally copy a scream from "cream of gold" at one point.
dickfish - i got a soda
p.s. you should ask me for the story behind the "lyrics" some day. it's a good one but my mom might still read this (thanks, mark :) so i'll save it for your ears/eyes.
4.12.2006
pictureless
you have the house to yourself again because that show doesn't grab you the way it grabs them. what are you going to do? you could spend the time in front of the computer, blasting two hour's worth of the new music you've recently found and reading about internet people you don't know and will never meet. that's getting pretty boring, though. you could try to clean some shit off of your ipod but you know that's always easier in theory than execution and you'll probably just get frustrated at yourself for not being able to let go. hmmm. if you don't do something worthwhile before bed, tomorrow will be upon you and you'll be closer to death without having accomplished anything.
you could post to your blog. hmmm. you'll need a picture first if you want to keep the format you've recently adopted. you should look at your pictures from sunday and see if there are any that stick out. good idea. wow. only you could spend an hour at the former site of the world's fair/the place where the end of MIB was filmed and end up with zero good pictures. you should probably chuck your camera or ebay it at the least. nah, ebay's too much of a hassle. ok, so no post. that's ok - it's a stupid blog anyway and if you're looking at it to make you feel like you've accomplished something, you're even more of a loser than you thought.
she would be surprised if you addressed the pile of trashbags filled with empty bottles that rests between the refrigerator and the one kitchen wall with a window. it's dark out, though. is the bottle return area lighted? it must be - you've returned bottles at night before...you think. you also need trashbags and hand soap for the bathroom. hmmm.
whoa. what is that feeling that just crashed upon you without warning? you're suddenly cold and completely frozen except for the tears that have welled up in your eyes. this happens a lot lately but usually you can pinpoint a reason. sad song, memory, thinking too much - something like that. but t.i.'s coming from your speakers and that shit ain't sad. and you were thinking about handsoaptrashbagbottleredemptions. this isn't good. you get up and walk to the kitchen, then to the bathroom where you stare at yourself in the mirror for a few minutes, then return to the chair in front of the computer. why did you just do that? you're not sure. you put your head in your hands and grab your hair in your fists. you do this a lot lately when no one's around. concentrate. ok, forget the bottles. you'll return them another day. but you still need soap and trashbags and you should probably get gas. you'll need money and might as well throw those bills in the mailbox while you're out. shit. that's a handful of things to do which means you'll have to figure out which order to do them. this is always the hardest part for you - making decisions in this state. you pace some more between the three rooms before you grab the bills, your phone, your keys and your jacket and tell yourself that you'll figure it all out when you have to.
before you reach your car, you decide that you'll drive to the mailbox. it's late and the parking lot will be empty and you've never driven to the mailbox before so this plan sounds good. you reach the parking lot and because you're such a worrywort, you turn your car off, roll up its windows and lock the doors even though the mailbox is 5 feet away and no one is around to justify your fears. you return to your car and as you head towards the parking lot's exit, you remember that you can only go right which heads back towards your apartment. since you're heading that way, you decide that you might as well run back up to the apartment and grab all those bottles. how you make your decisions tonight is taking its toll on you. 5 minutes later your car is now the proud keeper of 7 bags of empty bottles. you have 4 dollars in your wallet and are not sure how many in your back seat in plastic form so the bank will be the next stop. you plan to use the drive through because you don't want to interrupt the exploding hearts cd you're hearing for the first time, but you stop at the atm, glance at it for a second and then inexplicably take your foot off the brake to pull your car into one of the many empty spaces to your right. you find that to be strange.
you arrive at waldbaum's and grab 3 of the bags from your backseat. 3 will be a good start, you figure. before you can make it to the return area, you're intercepted by a plainsclothes man who tells you the area is closed for the night. you thank the man and return to your car, wondering what your next move should be. maybe king kullen is still taking empties tonight. if not, you're not sure what you'll do. you really don't want to take these 7 bags back into the apartment. since the money doesn't concern you much, you try to think of a place where you could just dump them. it's too early to try chucking them in the area next to 473 merrick. why are you thinking about all of this before you've reached king kullen? it's just like you.
king kullen is still taking empties, which is good. your eyes are still filled with tears, which is not. but it is allergy season so you can blame the watery redness on that if anyone asks. you don't even bother wiping your eyes anymore after this thought. 86 bottles later, you slip into the store looking for the customer service area. you find it, exchange your four slips of paper for 4 dollars, a quarter and a nickel, and are now free to purchase the trashbags and hand soap.
but you're here and money's tight and the cafeteria at work is expensive. shouldn't you grab some cold cuts and bread? is it worth it for 3 days of lunches? you head towards the deli but stop. then you head away from it and stop again. jesus christ, another decision you can't make easily. you notice the tears again. you must look weird doing your dance of indecision. good thing the store is rather empty. you decide that cold cuts will be bought. you spend a half hour walking around the store looking for 8 items in total because you can't concentrate and you don't know the store very well. it's obvious that if you were a worthwhile boyfriend you'd know the layout of this store better. you're so bad at life.
getgasmakelunchwatchgilmoregirlsontapetreesandbed.
you have the house to yourself again because that show doesn't grab you the way it grabs them. what are you going to do? you could spend the time in front of the computer, blasting two hour's worth of the new music you've recently found and reading about internet people you don't know and will never meet. that's getting pretty boring, though. you could try to clean some shit off of your ipod but you know that's always easier in theory than execution and you'll probably just get frustrated at yourself for not being able to let go. hmmm. if you don't do something worthwhile before bed, tomorrow will be upon you and you'll be closer to death without having accomplished anything.
you could post to your blog. hmmm. you'll need a picture first if you want to keep the format you've recently adopted. you should look at your pictures from sunday and see if there are any that stick out. good idea. wow. only you could spend an hour at the former site of the world's fair/the place where the end of MIB was filmed and end up with zero good pictures. you should probably chuck your camera or ebay it at the least. nah, ebay's too much of a hassle. ok, so no post. that's ok - it's a stupid blog anyway and if you're looking at it to make you feel like you've accomplished something, you're even more of a loser than you thought.
she would be surprised if you addressed the pile of trashbags filled with empty bottles that rests between the refrigerator and the one kitchen wall with a window. it's dark out, though. is the bottle return area lighted? it must be - you've returned bottles at night before...you think. you also need trashbags and hand soap for the bathroom. hmmm.
whoa. what is that feeling that just crashed upon you without warning? you're suddenly cold and completely frozen except for the tears that have welled up in your eyes. this happens a lot lately but usually you can pinpoint a reason. sad song, memory, thinking too much - something like that. but t.i.'s coming from your speakers and that shit ain't sad. and you were thinking about handsoaptrashbagbottleredemptions. this isn't good. you get up and walk to the kitchen, then to the bathroom where you stare at yourself in the mirror for a few minutes, then return to the chair in front of the computer. why did you just do that? you're not sure. you put your head in your hands and grab your hair in your fists. you do this a lot lately when no one's around. concentrate. ok, forget the bottles. you'll return them another day. but you still need soap and trashbags and you should probably get gas. you'll need money and might as well throw those bills in the mailbox while you're out. shit. that's a handful of things to do which means you'll have to figure out which order to do them. this is always the hardest part for you - making decisions in this state. you pace some more between the three rooms before you grab the bills, your phone, your keys and your jacket and tell yourself that you'll figure it all out when you have to.
before you reach your car, you decide that you'll drive to the mailbox. it's late and the parking lot will be empty and you've never driven to the mailbox before so this plan sounds good. you reach the parking lot and because you're such a worrywort, you turn your car off, roll up its windows and lock the doors even though the mailbox is 5 feet away and no one is around to justify your fears. you return to your car and as you head towards the parking lot's exit, you remember that you can only go right which heads back towards your apartment. since you're heading that way, you decide that you might as well run back up to the apartment and grab all those bottles. how you make your decisions tonight is taking its toll on you. 5 minutes later your car is now the proud keeper of 7 bags of empty bottles. you have 4 dollars in your wallet and are not sure how many in your back seat in plastic form so the bank will be the next stop. you plan to use the drive through because you don't want to interrupt the exploding hearts cd you're hearing for the first time, but you stop at the atm, glance at it for a second and then inexplicably take your foot off the brake to pull your car into one of the many empty spaces to your right. you find that to be strange.
you arrive at waldbaum's and grab 3 of the bags from your backseat. 3 will be a good start, you figure. before you can make it to the return area, you're intercepted by a plainsclothes man who tells you the area is closed for the night. you thank the man and return to your car, wondering what your next move should be. maybe king kullen is still taking empties tonight. if not, you're not sure what you'll do. you really don't want to take these 7 bags back into the apartment. since the money doesn't concern you much, you try to think of a place where you could just dump them. it's too early to try chucking them in the area next to 473 merrick. why are you thinking about all of this before you've reached king kullen? it's just like you.
king kullen is still taking empties, which is good. your eyes are still filled with tears, which is not. but it is allergy season so you can blame the watery redness on that if anyone asks. you don't even bother wiping your eyes anymore after this thought. 86 bottles later, you slip into the store looking for the customer service area. you find it, exchange your four slips of paper for 4 dollars, a quarter and a nickel, and are now free to purchase the trashbags and hand soap.
but you're here and money's tight and the cafeteria at work is expensive. shouldn't you grab some cold cuts and bread? is it worth it for 3 days of lunches? you head towards the deli but stop. then you head away from it and stop again. jesus christ, another decision you can't make easily. you notice the tears again. you must look weird doing your dance of indecision. good thing the store is rather empty. you decide that cold cuts will be bought. you spend a half hour walking around the store looking for 8 items in total because you can't concentrate and you don't know the store very well. it's obvious that if you were a worthwhile boyfriend you'd know the layout of this store better. you're so bad at life.
getgasmakelunchwatchgilmoregirlsontapetreesandbed.
4.10.2006
---------worn
-----8/03 12/03
---3/3/04 3/5/04
-3/27-28/04 7/19/04
---2/8/05 3/17/05
--4/18/05 8/11/05
--11/4/05 11/7/05
-12/15/05 12/18/05
12/19-21/05 12/22/05
--12/23/05 1/12/06
---1/13/06 2/8/06
-----2/16-22/06 .
4.04.2006
trying not to think
you remember
your car stereo plays
mp3 cd's
and randomly grab
"music 3"
on way to
electronics showdown
and discover one file
is neon golden
gladly hear 2 favorites
for first time
in a long one
and then
she
sneaks up
on you.
