Deuce X. Machinations

RPG Talk: It's Got a Backbeat, You Can't Lose It....

2011-10-06T11:53:00.000-07:00

As part of my RPG structure, I tend to break down individual games into 4 distinct beats, with an expectation of the players achieve three major goals per game session. With "The Lonely People", I have named them after Beatles lyrics (even post-breakup.) Sometimes they know in advance why (or can guess), other times it becomes apparent afterward.

Game 1's beats:
Come Together - players introductions to one another
Everyone's Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey - Introduction to the prince and the primogen of the city.
We Hope You Will Enjoy The Show (Sgt. Pepper) - The players attended a rock concert that ended with a gunshot to the lead singer's head.
She Came In Through The Bathroom Window - The players went to a night club where the NPC they were supposed to be babysitting accidentally Embraced the favored ghoul of the prince's childe in the men's room.

Game 2's beats:
Band on the Run - Now they're on the lam, trying to re-group in private.
Deep in the Jungle Where the Mighty Tiger Lies (Bungalow Bill) - They got attacked by a crazed werewolf and met the local "werewolf hunters".
Instant Karma's Gonna Get You - The players had to attend the Toreador primogen's art showing, where the prince's childe showed up pissed and looking for his ghoul.
Tell Me Why - Confrontation with the Prince of the city, explaining what happened to her childe's ghoul.

It's a little bit of fun and also emphasizes the pacing of the game. When something significant has happened, they can tend to guess because the beat of the game has now changed in the evening. I don't name the game session themselves in the same convention, that would be a little much.

I did mention the Prince's name was "Eleanor Rigby", right? Nyuk nyuk nyuk. Luckily, I have a good reason for this in-game (as good as any, I suppose. One of my major plotlines is also named after a Beatles song, but this has yet to be discovered.)

RPG Talk: Story Arcs Explained by Michael Caine

2011-09-25T01:42:00.000-07:00

Getting back to talking about structure for a moment, because ultimately I find that to be the most interesting point of RPG discussion that transcends game systems. One of my normal blogs of reading asked how other storytellers structure their games. Again, I'm strictly talking about my own corner of experience that is usually flavored by a story-driven, role-playing driven type of experience. These days I try to structure my story arcs in three-chapter increments, using the terminology from the book/film about rival magicians at the turn of the century, The Prestige. I'm not sure if the terms are actual stage magician lingo, but it works (and if you imagine it being spoken by a grizzled Michael Caine, it's even better.) Take it away, Michael -

"Every great magic trick consists of three parts or acts. The first part is called "The Pledge". The magician shows you something ordinary: a deck of cards, a bird or a man. He shows you this object. Perhaps he asks you to inspect it to see if it is indeed real, unaltered, normal. But of course... it probably isn't. The second act is called "The Turn". The magician takes the ordinary something and makes it do something extraordinary. Now you're looking for the secret... but you won't find it, because of course you're not really looking. You don't really want to know. You want to be fooled. But you wouldn't clap yet. Because making something disappear isn't enough; you have to bring it back. That's why every magic trick has a third act, the hardest part, the part we call "The Prestige"."

And that's it in a nutshell for me. The first act of my games are The Pledge - This is where I'm telling the audience the basic outline of what will be occurring for the story arc. That doesn't mean the Pledge is strictly exposition, far from it. But I as a storyteller can't cheat the audience at this point because I'm building your trust in terms of what you should expect. Star Wars is a great Pledge, for example - it sets up who the important characters are, it explains the simple terms of what's going on in the universe. There's a lot of action in Star Wars however, it's not just exposition. Same thing with Fellowship of the Ring, you understand the action, and the characters understand the risks (or at least think they do.) One of the reasons I like Peter Jackson's trilogy on the subject is that he wisely brought Gollum to the front of the story (if only as a lurking shadow in the background.) Don't misunderstand however. Just because it's an introduction, doesn't mean it's required to end on an upnote. Fellowship ends with a lot of problems and complications: The party is split, Gandalf is dead and two of the party are captured by the bad guys. Good solid start, however, for a longer chronicle.

The second act is The Turn, where things literally turn for the worst. This is where things need to take a decided dip in the character's fortunes. In Empire Strikes Back, it's obvious with the discovery of Darth being Luke's father. In The Two Towers, it's the important discovery that Gollum is going to betray Frodo and Sam at some point, but neither of them are aware. I know I speak against the grain when I say I like Matrix: Reloaded because of the two significant turns that take place in the story - Neo discovers the truth about Zion and being the One, as the audience, we learn at the close of the story that Agent Smith is a lurking serpent in the real world. Here's another little thought to throw into that mix - Godfather II is also an interesting Turn because Michael has truly damned himself by ordering the murder of his brother, Fredo. But that's for another discussion. For me, The Turn episode is also where I think I understand where the players want to go the most. That's for another discussion as well, but the main gyst is that by the end of Game 2, I can usually tell what plotline the players want to follow and resolve the most by their actions in Game 1 and 2, and what they will find most satisfying to resolve in Game 3.

Game 3 is the Prestige - the game where the plotline with the most importance to the players has to have the beginnings of development toward resolution. This doesn't mean it's 100% tied up, however. But players I think need to have a straightforward "We accomplished this' sort of resolution, whether it be for good or bad. Return of the Jedi resolved with Darth standing up for his son, even at the expense of his own life. Return of the King was both the destruction of Sauron, but more importantly the destruction of the Ring at the terrible cost the other characters experienced. Godfather III, for all its faults and believe me there were many, resolved that no matter what Michael did to seek absolution, he couldn't. He owed a sacrifice to karmic justice, and it was resolved with the death of his daughter. Personally, I think it would've been a satisfactory closure if the person who killed his daughter was then in turn killed by Michael's son, Anthony. A tidy little arc that would mimic Michael's introduction into his own downfall. But that's me. I'm a poet at heart. Won't tell you what happens in the next LP game, but it resolves a few things and makes a few things clearer.

Not all games need to follow this, of course. But I find it makes it easier for the players to see development of the short term plot and the long term plot when it's designated as such. When running Context 9, it was easier to run the "Call of Cthulhu game" like this because the immediate "Big Bad" in terms of story arc was dealt with, but the meta-arc continued on its merry way, building with each three-chapter story to a final resolution (that didn't end the way I expected.) What's the old joke? Trouble comes in threes, and when #4 comes... it's really the start of a new batch of three.

RPG Talk: A Game of Broken Players

2011-09-21T00:55:00.000-07:00

Thanks to the Internet and social media, I've been discovering a larger community of role-playing enthusiasts that go beyond the normal crowd I know personally (or would be found at the local game store.) Several of these sites, (www.ryanmacklin.com and www.roleplayingtips.com) are excellent sources, as well as one of personal favorites - www.jesshartley.com. Maybe cuz I'm sweet on Jess. Go figure. Who isn't.

But it's cool - I think that it's important for us to become better at our craft. The better we become at storytellers, the more influence our players to be better (who in turn, influence us to improve as well.) Beyond the basic commiseration of problem player scenarios or whatever, it really helps to connect with this resource network in order to share ideas and discuss shared value points that give us all something to work on.

However, one of the things that is slightly disappointing is that most of the storyteller community share tips primarily for D&D campaigns, and that's understandable. It is pretty much the canon for rpg's, and you really, really have to try NOT to have played D&D at least once if you're a tabletop enthusiast. I however, don't play D&D regularly. It's really not my cup of schnapps. Don't get me wrong, great game but I don't really find the genre what excites me as a player or as a storyteller. There are some great DM's out there, I know. But it's like the old saw that a good artist can make anything extraordinary, but it doesn't mean the subject itself is interesting. I often joke Peter Murphy could sing his grocery list and it would be an amazing experience. ("Two quarts of miiiiilk....and some egggggs...")

So as a bit of an odd duck, I'm going to try and discuss the craft a little bit of non-D&D storytelling from time to time. Not as a statement against D&D, mind you. Just because it's what I know, and I feel the desire to share to give a little back.

We're currently running through a Vampire chronicle, just completed game 2. One of my players, who is new to my immediate group, is also a storyteller but this is his first successful experience in a V:TM setting. Oh, he's tried it - but he told me last game they usually don't get past game 1 with his normal gaming group, because the clans usually end up in-fighting and barely last through game 1.

I get that. V:TM is actually a tough RPG to do correctly, especially in the first series of games. Sometimes I truly wonder if V:TM is meant to be played as-is. Because the game universe is structured to encourage backstabbing (not unlike a Paranoia game, but without the yuks), players already start with a strike against them in certain scenarios. That doesn't REALLY happen in D&D much - clerics and magic users, for instance, rarely have a true problem with one another unless the DM opts to make that part of the background. There's usually an inherent camaraderie in D&D parties that only really have problems unless there's a broken player in the mix.

Further, the game itself structures itself to have what is called the "jihad" - basically the older characters who are trying to manipulate the younger characters, each other, and of course mortal society. Often that's not a problem because players start at a roughly equal power level, but it can happen.

Finally you have the inherent issue that vampires don't LEAVE home very often. They pick a city, they set up their shingle, and they stay put. For centuries. They're not really adventuring types inherently, unless there's a really good reason. That puts a lot of pressure on a good reason to be created by the Storyteller.

Let's recap that - characters that are written to conflict with one another, encouraged backstabbing and inherent reticence to engage with other players and or NPC's. Usually we call those broken players. Here we call it, Game 1. Enjoy your Vampire game.

So that leaves the hook - what brings the player characters together and (initially) keeps them working together for relatively similar purposes. One method is of course the mutual background creation that makes it easy to point to something that at least brought them together as a unit. I actually try to shy away from that overtly, because I prefer to let the players form their own bonds organically. Usually, I prefer the method of having them brought them together by a third party in one fashion or another and then sets them on their path.

In comparison, my quasi-Call of Cthulhu game Context 9 did it pretty easily - the pc's were hired by a corporation to be their personal investigators into the unknown. I likened it to the Charlie Angels trope, different people brought together by third-party powerful benefactor. It left things open-ended while allowing the players to still keep secrets from one another if they so chose. I'm not a fan of doing that so heavy handed however for Vampire, and ultimately it doesn't make sense. I prefer to have the group brought together by a mutual problem that they need to solve en masse, whether or not they are aware. However in my current game, The Lonely People, I tried to turn the Charlie's Angels troupe on its ear. They were gathered by a debt to a powerful elder, but all of them were accrued separately. So immediately there's conflict in that they don't inherently know one another. Conflict + Mutual Background divided by Individual Experience. So far, they haven't even MET the original elder in question, leaving doubt to whether he really called them together to repay the debt. The debt itself doesn't seem to make sense to the casual observer - Distrust + Shared Mystery. And finally, the debt itself becomes more complicated in the face of outside events and withheld information - Problem Solving despite Changing Environment and Incomplete Information.

So far, it's worked pretty well in keeping the group together, although they certainly don't trust one another (and shouldn't), and they all have different agendas. I doubt this game will go beyond Game 6, but that's not a bad thing. I like to keep my chronicles relatively concise. Why I know Game 6 as opposed to Game 4 is something else...

Context 9: In Praise of Mr. Peepers

2011-08-25T15:06:00.000-07:00

People who play in my RPG's tend to play for a number of reasons, but the most recurring one I hear is, "Because you're not right in the head." Strange compliment, that. But true - I tend to make characters, scenarios, plots... that are usually a little off-center. There's a whole group of people in the Northwest who probably shudder when they see mimes, thanks to me. I have no regrets for this, it keeps it interesting and if I can get either a belly laugh or a "Ooooh, that's fucked up." during normal game play, I consider the game a success. If it happens over the same thing, that makes my week. Case in point, Mr. Peepers.

Mr. Peepers was a character in Context 9, my modern corporate-conspiracy rpg that ran for nine months. The players worked for a large media corporation that investigated strange things, with a bigger agenda regarding the way corporations and men in power truly make the world go round. Ya know for a Democrat, I'm pretty pro-big business that way. Anyway, at one point the players were to meet up with their contact from the Background division who was going to brief them on an ancient tome. They traveled up to a hotel room, and Willy Primatero opened the door, a pleasant looking man in a pullover sweater.
"Hi. Actually, I'm just the assistant. Your contact is in the bedroom, sleeping. You want to wake him up?" Of course they say yes. He calls into the bedroom, and a high-pitched New Yawkeeze voice answers. Already the players grow concerned.
Willy goes into the bedroom and brings out... Mr. Peepers. Yep. A ventriloquist dummy. Of course the players assume Willy is fucking with them, but they soon realize that Mr. Peepers is the smarter of the two of them, knowing things that Willy just doesn't know (or at least claims to know.)
Later they learned the back-story - Willy was a field agent that had seen something so frightful, he had a nervous breakdown. As part of his therapy, Willy created the persona as Mr. Peepers so he himself could feel comfortable that he didn't have this forbidden knowledge in his head, it was all Mr. Peepers. So the company transferred him to the Background department, but kept him on. In many ways a sad little tale.
My players were also pretty funny - at first, they scoffed at Mr. Peepers. Then they started playing along. And then, something weird happened. They themselves bought in as characters that the two personas were completely different people - they spoke differently to each characters. Even maintained eye contact with Mr. Peepers while speaking with him, ignoring me. I really wish other people had seen that, that would've made them go a little weird.

I never got to finish my intended story arc for Willy and Mr. Peepers, because Willy ended up injured in-game, and while Mr. Peepers was still speaking with the players normally, Willy was in a brief coma. Yeah, that ain't weird. If he had been injured, I think Mr. Peepers was going to slowly go insane with his knowledge, scaring Willy that Mr. Peepers was going to kill him at some point... and then Willy was going to kill himself and eventually... Mr. Peepers was going to start speaking through one of the players.

I have no idea why people let me out of the house without restraints.

So I guess one of the questions by that really got posed to my players via Mr Peepers was whether a crazy person could still be intelligent and/or functional in the real world. We tend to fall into the "Crazy Person in the Asylum With Arcane Knowledge" trope, because it's easy. The Crazy Person with Forbidden Knowledge becomes a safe destination, like visiting the Beach or your mom. (Heh. Your mom.) But most crazy people aren't in asylums...unless you call the House of Representatives an asylum. Some do. Actually the crazy people are out functioning with the rest of us the best they can, and Willy was definitely a useful tool both for the players and for myself with the added complication that he *required* the mannequin dummy to communicate in public places and obviously there were plenty of environment reactions. I mean, wasn't that kind of WEIRD in the 70's when TV characters were just walking around with ventriloquist dummies? Didn't people find that... well, odd? People didn't really do that back then, did they? Did THEY? Okay, I scared myself.

The Lyrics Game: "Truck Stop Love Machine"

2010-08-20T11:38:00.000-07:00

Every Monday on my Twitterfeed, I play what I call the "Lyrics Game." My followers can suggest a song title, and by the end of the week, I write lyrics for the title. I can't guarantee there will ever be a song attached to them, but you never know. At the very least, you know the lyrics are there.

This Week: "Truck Stop Love Machine!" (suggested by Babagahnoosh)

Everybody’s beautiful before the hit the lights
Two minutes after closing time
Just before you stagger home, calling it a night
I’ll drop a fiver to make you mine
I’m parked out back, let’s go
I’m parked out back, let’s go
I’m parked out back, let’s go

Chorus
She’s a truck stop queen
She’s a loving machine
And everybody’s going to take turn to see what I mean
You know she looks so sweet,
I hope she’s got her teeth
She’s goes on and on and on, a truck stop love machine

She’s got a few teardrop tattoos
With little inhibition anymore
I don’t mind if I’m only next in line tonight
But I won’t ask if she’s done this before

So get on your back, let’s go
So get on your back, let’s go
So get on your back, let’s go

Chorus
She’s a truck stop queen
She’s a loving machine
And everybody’s going to take turn to see what I mean
You know she looks so sweet,
I hope she’s got her teeth
She’s goes on and on and on, a truck stop love machine

The Lyrics Game: "Wang Bone Surprise!"

2010-08-13T12:56:00.000-07:00

Every Monday on my Twitterfeed, I play what I call the "Lyrics Game." My followers can suggest a song title, and by the end of the week, I write lyrics for the title. I can't guarantee there will ever be a song attached to them, but you never know. At the very least, you know the lyrics are there.

This Week: "Wang Bone Surprise!" (suggested by Christopher Plank)

I scored some brews with all my friends
Down at the bar while the Raiders lose again
At closing time, I saw her there
Tight miniskirt white heels and long blonde hair

Thinking I would score that night,
Took her home but what a sight!
Reached down between her thighs,
Oh my God, Wang bone surprise!
Oh my God, Wang bone surprise!

It all came out, but not at first,
Should've known by the Old Spice in her purse
Strangest night I ever had,
Have to admit it wasn't half bad

Verify with all the girls you meet
If they lift the toilet seat,
Reached down between her thighs,
Oh my God, Wang bone surprise!
Oh my God, Wang bone surprise!

That old refrain, you know they're right
It's all the same when turning out the lights
Now all my friends, they won't relent
They're hounding me to tell them how it went

I don't know what I should say
Does this mean I'm really gay?
Reached down between her thighs,
Oh my God, Wang bone surprise!
Oh my God, Wang bone surprise!

From the Misty Corners of Childhood... come the Spinners.

2010-04-13T13:52:00.000-07:00

For years, I've known this song. I mean YEARS. Easily since I first heard it on the AM radio when I was five. Had no idea who it was, but I grew up with the tune. And now, on a whim I looked up the lyrics using Google. And sure enough, it came up - It was the Spinners.

"Games People Play" by the Spinners

I particularly like how the video comes from Soul Train, one of my guiltiest pleasures. The purple velvet jackets and choreography make it even better. God bless you, Internet. Of course this was also the heady days when NO ONE played live on television, particularly singing groups. So not all the vocals were lip-sync'ed, but the women's vocals were lip-sync'ed by a male member of the group. Eh, it's time on TV. What can you do.

Meh on Millar: Why Nemesis #1 Doesn't Work

2010-04-08T11:53:00.000-07:00

I'm very sporadic with my comic book purchases these days, usually picking something up when it amuses by way of interesting premise, or a writer I really like and want to support. I'm not the type of person that save them in the little plastic bags, I'm not a collector of anything really, except for amusing stories I like to revisit from time to time. Mark Millar is a well-known comic writer, but I imagine most people haven't heard of him...but you do know his work.

Wanted, starring Angelina Jolie and James MacAvoy? That's his.
The new Kick-Ass movie? That's his.

So you get it. And he's done a lot of work for the Big 2 and what have you. Recently he came out with an independent comic called "Nemesis", with the premise of "What if Batman was the Joker?" Well, it's a little more than that - what if someone with the training and unlimited resources of a Batman-type person was using it for evil purposes instead of good. And after reading #1, my answer is... he's kind of an annoying douchebag.

This pure fanboy geek talk, but bear with. The archetype of Batman works on a couple of different levels, and one of them being that yes, he is the penultimate of human conditioning, one motivated human being who unlocks the entirety of the human potential. Nemesis, on the other hand, kills police chiefs. Really, that's all he does. #1 starts off with him killing the police chief of Tokyo, then setting his sights on an American police chief. We're told through exposition that Nemesis never misses his target, he's killed numerous others, yadda yadda yadda. And we're shown he's got a gang of thugs. He comes across as a douchebag.

If you buy into the Batman mythos, one of the things about Batman in his own story is that normal people think he's an urban legend. The myth is what makes him more powerful than his own abilities. Nemesis on the other hand, attacks Airforce One on national TV. So much for subtlety.

If you think about the Joker as a character, what makes the character frightening is not just lack of morality but the flat-out unpredictability of the character. Could kill a bus full of children, could rob a candy store of their Snickers bars. You don't know what goes on his mind, you don't want to know. Nemesis on the other hand, has a modus operende that's slightly predictable, if you think about it - he kills police chiefs. Bang, that's it right there.

Bad guys don't have to be boring. Nemesis could've been like Se7en, and if you think about it, Se7en is more like the idea of Batman is the Joker than anything. He's crazy, has resources totally unimaginable, and a buttload of time to pull off his master plan. More importantly, John Doe is frightening because for the first half of the movie, (if not more), you never even see the dude. But his work is always there, and thus you feel a pull to the characters you do see, the police chasing him (although by movie's end, you realize they never stood a chance.) Instead, Nemesis is about a rich, dangerous thug who wears a lot of white and shoots cops with little subtlety and no real mythos behind him.

I understand movie studios are already looking at buying the rights to Nemesis, and I realize it's very early in the series run (#1 doesn't really give you a full breadth of the plotline). I might pick up #2, but it's doubtful for #3 if it keeps on as such. No offense to Millar, but... I just need something more.

Mickey Meh: Disney's California Adventure

2010-04-05T18:34:00.000-07:00

When I first got my new job, part of the pre-work reward was a trip to Disneyland during the week, which proved to have its own drawback (What sort of person throws his back out at Disneyland? An old one, that's who. Fuck you very much, Walt Disney.) , but it was a pleasant enough experience for the two of us - during the week, the crowd's were down, we went on what we wanted and the longest wait was for the Peter Pan ride (twenty minutes.) We even had lunch at the Blue Bayou and watched tourists ride by on the Pirates of Caribbean ride while we ate overpriced Monte Cristo sandwiches. You know those douchebags you see eating a meal while you ride through the old swamp? We were those douchebags!!

But I digress. When purchasing the tickets, Jadine opted to get the Two-fer tickets which gave us a free trip to Disney California Adventure later in the month. I myself had never been to DCA before - it never really interested me, seemed overpriced and I usually only go to Disneyland proper for the sentimental factor. I'm a softie, so sue me. But after a month working at the new gig, we decided this Easter weekend to break down and use the DCA tickets before they expired. And maybe in a way it was another celebration of sorts - working a full month or something. Hey, take the victory where you can get it, sport.

So we went. And it messed with my head. Just entering the park seemed alien and foreign, like using a different hand to wipe one's...nose. (ahem.) Intead of going left, through the familiar gates undeneath the train station, into Main Street USA which magically grows smaller every year (best trick they're ever pulled, how they shrink the front like that.) We went through the big letters that spelled CALIFORNIA.

Now you may not have been to California Adventure yet. You're not alone. It's a weird experience if you grew up in California, or LIVE in California for that matter, because it's intended as an encapsulation of what it's like to LIVE in California... but not. The only approximation I can give is going to the New York New York Casino in Las Vegas after living in New York for several years. The shapes are familar, but the feeling's just not there because nothing's in the right place. You know, like sleeping with your ex's sister.

Not that I've done that.

Anyway, Disney had intended to create a park for non-California residents to enjoy the aspects of California without ever leaving the Disney properties. (You may or may not know this, but I'm adding this to be complete.) But the problem is, a strong portion of the consistent Disney attendees are in fact, California residents. So they have no desire to go visit a faux Hollywood Boulevard when they can drive forty five minutes and see the real thing, tacky souveneir shops and all. The problem was worse in that the original budget for the park was really low (by amusement park standards) - $600 million. To put that in perspective, James Cameron could've build a more expensive DCA solely off the net profits of Titanic, not even Avatar. And the rides were not special - they were about what you would see at any given boardwalk, which ironically was the point - a simulation of the Santa Monica pier boardwalk. Probably the only thing that actually matched the original. Except for the homeless people begging for change, of course.

Now they're not idiots, those Disney folks. And DCA has been pretty much saved by the advent of Pixar. Every one of the better, high-scale rides is based on a Pixar film of the past five years, and it's a good thing. My friend Rima recommended we go straight for the Toy Story Midway Mania, and she was 100% right. Despite the forty-five minute wait (at 10:45 in the morning, no less), it was indeed the best experience we had at the park. In fact, we were ready to leave afer that. But no, we meandered around some more to see what was else was around. A Bug's Life (Pixar), an upcoming Cars ride (also Pixar), you get the point. You wait, in five years, they'll have a ride based on Up! where you get to watch your parents grow old and die right before your eyes. Kids will love it.

Now the other "Anchor" ride of DCA is of course, the Twilight Zone Tower of Terror. For those of you know me fairly well, you probably also know there's no way in hell I would go on a flying death trap such as this, due to my fear of heights. Some of you might say, "Well, how do you expect to get over your fear if you don't confront it head on?", which is a perfectly rational method of facing things that frighten you to which I say, "Mind your own f***ing business." That's a shame really, because I grew up a really big fan of the Twilight Zone TV series. I was one of those kids who would watch the entire marathon of the show whenever Channel 5 would use it to kill a Thanksgiving holiday's worth of television programming or something like that. But the idea of intentionally going up in something that is intended...to drop... no. Not I think today. I blame my own fears, but even Jadine opted not to get close to the damn things, and she has no such fears whatsoever. I sometimes think about stuff like that, though. Most people aren't afraid of falling, they're afraid of public speaking. Wouldn't be an interesting terror ride if you're in the little vehicle, it takes you into the darkness, then a spotlight shines on you and a microphone magically appears in front of you while an audience suddenly appears? How frightening would THAT be? Yeah, you laugh now. Wait til I make you ride on the test run.

Of course, DCA is superior in one, clearcut way - the juice bar. And when I say juice, I naturally mean...margaritas. Oh sure, they weren't the strongest margaritas we've ever had, but they definitely made the whole experience a little nicer. (Once again, I say - Knott's Berry Farm is superior in the fact it has a sit down restaurant with beers in the Ghost Town.)

So it wasn't bad. It was okay, especially for a free admission. Of course, they don't charge that normally. Instead, they offer DCA for the same price as Disneyland's admission for the non-California resident. What's the point in THAT? If you took your visiting family and gave them choice between Disneyland and the DCA, you know which they're going to pick. Every time. Disney needs to consider this and implement better rides at the DCA, ones that involve shooting like the Toy Story one. In fact, make the whole park a shooting game. You could do it. We already have one of those in California already. We call it "Compton."

Do You Remember: Invasion of the Bee Girls

2010-03-06T12:06:00.001-08:00

Wrong Side of the Art recently took me down Memory Lane with their blog entry for the movie poster, Invasion of the Bee Girls. For years, Channel 13 in Los Angeles would play 70's and 80's low budget films as part of their weekend afternoon and late night programming, and their movies were pretty bad. (KTLA Channel 5 was only marginally better.) This is where I saw a lot of weird, weird movies as a kid. I loved it though, no question about that. And big props need to be given to the TV announcer that had to announce this program in their commercial bumpers. I don't remember a lot about the movie itself, but I remember the serious gravitas the announcer would have when he said, "Invasion... of the BEE GIRLS." And when watching it late at night, I always felt I was getting away with seeing something naughty on TV. (This was of course before the advent of ON-TV and eventually cable.) Naturally, this movie was normal broadcast so it was about as scandalous as a pair of of short-shorts. But for an eight year old, this was risque stuff, my friends. The movie's plot concerned women who turned into sexual, bee-mutated succubi that would capture men, smother them in honey and take them to the lair for nourishment of some sort. Or something like that, I don't really remember the details. I'm sure I could look it up, but I really don't want to. My hazy recollections are quite enough for this one. Just goes to show that a good announcer can make anything seem appealing for a late-night viewing.

Google Buzz and the Lessons of Orkut

2010-02-16T12:05:00.001-08:00

Everyone's got an opinion about Google Buzz in the tech rags these days, and a lot of it's derogatory. Take away the privacy concerns, which is a valid consideration, and the general criticism is its overall purpose - "Why would anyone want a Facebook knockoff that ultimately has less functionality?" Truth is, gentle reader, features don't matter. We'd like to think Features matter, particularly when you're paid to be clever. But user experience and market penetration matter far more.

"Whoa, Deuce. You're freaking me out with this business development talk."

Okay, let me rephrase that. People don't buy Swiss Army Knives. They buy plastic spoons at the grocery store.

"Whut?"

Here's how it works. Although the other guys (e.g. Facebook) might have more features and doodads, because Google is plugging Buzz directly into their mail client, they're getting Buzz in the hands of more people than if they hadn't. And although many of the Tech-savvy folks don't like that, we need to keep in mind we're the minority of the userbase. Instead, most people want an easy user experience that doesn't require a lot of effort. I liken it to the Grandmother Rule of Product Design - "Could your Grandmother use this product right out of the box?" Seems silly, but it makes the difference in how quickly the audience adopts the product.

Here's an example - I was fortunate enough to travel through India on several business trips during my last years with The Social Network Not To Be Named, and spoke with many of their tech-savvy young professionals about the Internet and their social networking habits. The majority of the people I spoke with (about 95% or more) were not on MySpace, Facebook or Friendster. They were on Orkut.

In case you didn't know, Orkut has been Google's offering as a social network for several years, and although virtually unknown in the U.S. they do lionshare business in Brazil, South America and yes, India. As a matter of fact, India ranked #2 as their demographic. So naturally I asked them what made them choose Orkut over the other offerings. The standard answer was pretty easy - "Because I have a Gmail account."

That's important to understand, in terms of user experience and behavior. It was not the feature set that motivated their selection or even the social graph of their circle of friends (and that tends to work itself out anyway, based on group behavior). But through Gmail, which was already their email provider of choice, there was a clean, seamless user experience to create their Orkut account. Orkut is not a very good product, in my opinion. But it works because its target audience is already "corraled" into an accessible user base. If they get 5% of that user base, regardless of what the rest of us "experts" think, they're already ahead of the game when compared to a start-up.

This is already proving out - After a week, Google Buzz already has surpassed Twitter's audience. Granted, they've had to do some hot fixes along the way for the privacy issues and whatnot. But to be honest, that's only occurring to shut us up, "us" being the tech industry elite. Now what they do with that leap forward is up to Google, and that's anyone's guess. The fixing of the privacy issues and other user requests are a good and necessary second phase of product development, because it not only addresses key issues that are important once the "new app smell" wears off, but it demonstrates product development vitality which encourages audience investment into the product.

"Whut?"

That means by fixing and adding stuff, people can expect to see it for a while and invest their time in using it.

"Doesn't Google always do it?"

Didn't do it with Wave.

"What's Wave?"

Exactly.

In Praise of Chatroulette

2010-02-14T14:06:00.000-08:00

"And the winners [of the Dating Game] get to go out on a date. That's it. That's the show." - Confessions of a Dangerous Mind

The big internet buzz-fad right now is a neat little site called Chatroulette, which is currently doing the rounds of the internet news/gossip sites not unlike Twitter about three to four years ago. It's a simple enough concept - a randomized anonymous chat link with other people logged into the site, utilizing your webcam and microphone.

That's the whole concept, you randomly chat via webcam with people. It's certainly not new, random chat rooms have existed since the dawn of the internet. It's also not new as a one-on-one concept, omegele.com has been doing the same thing but only as a text based chat. But Chatroulette managed to include the right things at the right time - webcam technology is now prevalent and common to most laptops, chatting with strangers is no longer considered taboo, etc. Of course, if you go on the site, you have no idea what you'll find. There's a lot of people just online, sitting and seeing what they get. There's also a lot of people masturbating. There's also the occasional weird... I don't know *what* to call it. People in another world, I guess. My personal favorite (whom I love corresponding with), is Cobra Commander who takes it to a whole new level with props, additional costumes, I truly love this guy's sense of humor.

The point is, you have no idea what you'll see. A dude's penis? Maaaybe. A talking wolf? Maaaaaybe. Chicks in a dorm? Cooooould be. And part of the experience is not knowing what you might have randomly handed to you. I read it described as a throwback to what the internet used to be like, and that's pretty accurate. It can be anything.

Now the current buzz (at least within the past 72 hours) is focused on the site's creator, who turned out to be a 17-year-old kid out in Russia. And he said he made it because he thought it would be fun to do. He's already being courted by top internet VC investors who want to fly him out to New York and discuss things with him. Many people are already poo-pooing the idea of the site, which is fine - they poo-pooed social networks and Twitter and everything else, until it caught fire with the teenage crowd who immediately embraced it as their own (much like Chatroulette is already experiencing.)

I love the spirit of the whole thing on every level - as a product, it's brilliant in its simplicity as an idea (Random webcam chat. Caveat emptor.) It's slightly edgy and often NSFW but not by design, which adds to its perfection. And it's 100% unintended as a commerical venture. Seriously, can you imagine someone bringing that to a VC meeting and try to pitch as a money-making venue? It couldn't happen. And from my own experience, an idea like this would never succeed if a larger company had tried to do it because they would've diluted the simplicity of the idea to make it something it wasn't. And that would've killed the whole premise of being fun. And who made it? Someone in Silicon Valley? Nope. An so-called "Internet expert"? Nope. A teenager in Russia. That's who did it. That's why it works. There is no commercial angle yet. I hope there never is, but it's inevitable.

If you ask me, that's why I love this business. Because we can still be surprised and elated by technology that comes from the most pure source - a teenage kid hacking something together in his bedroom as something fun to try out. And he's now as much of an expert as Guy Kawasaki, if not more. After all, this kid is becoming a sensation because other people want to show you their dicks. (Not that Guy Kawasaki has done that, of course.)

As a sidenote, let this all become a point of concern for every self-proclaimed "expert" in our field - we didn't think of it. He thought of it. We could've, but he did it. Keep that in mind while you try to tear the kid down, because no matter what we'd like to think about how savvy we all are... we got aced by a teenager in Russia. God. Fucking. Bless him.

Context 9 - Music Soothes Nothing

2010-01-21T12:56:00.000-08:00

Among the many lessons I learned from doing so much LARP that have now translated to our tabletop game is the value of background music. Context 9 has a very specific soundtrack when we play, usually playing as an iPod playlist in the background as we play. If you asked me what our theme song was for the game, it would be the Art of Noise’s “Close to the Edit”. I find that song very ominous, personally speaking. I have often toyed with putting together a “Context 9” opening credits, mostly because I’m a geek that way.

Most of the background music are ambient instrumentals by either NIN or Dead Can Dance, something to help the players get into the mood and focus on the game as well as add to the overall sense of dread as they continue. Each game storyline has also had its own specific theme music as well - “Snakechapel”, for instance, had “Angie” by the Rolling Stones. This was because the main Big Bad was a creature posing as a woman named Angela (Aja’Taraa) and when the players went to one character’s house, he was sitting in the dark listening to the song over and over. Later he gutted himself. The song remains in the playlist, and whenever it plays, it creeps out the players as it reminds them how close they came to death.

“Moonchild” had a different recurring song that wasn’t intended to be creepy – “Maguena Salerosa” by Robert Rodriguez’s band, Chingon. This wasn’t really about the campaign itself, mind you. But rather it was a hit song played on the radio by one of the PC’s, Dr. Anton Calavera. So I kept having it pop up over and over just like it would as a top 40 track. By having the song established before the character showed up, it added to the dichotomy of the NPC – a Buckaroo Banzai-like particle physicist with a Mexican rock band on the side.

The background soundtrack also provides with a wild card during the game that has proven a real joy for myself as a storyteller, if not for the players. I have always joked that when you hear Sympathy for the Devil on the radio, it’s causing a primal shift in the universe for good or bad. Like a musical omen. This now applies to the game – I have warned the players that every time that song comes up, something fundamental in the game will be changing. Because one of the characters was slightly possessed for a while (you know, like being slightly pregnant), it would often manifest when the song would play. Other times, the song would indicate another NPC in the game world was now dead. What was truly creepy however – often the song would play right before I had a bad thing already planned to occur and the song seemingly played out of nowhere. For the players, this made sense because they knew something bad was about to occur when the song played. Little did they know even I had no control over that little instance. I’d like to say it was happenstance but as the game itself implies… Everything is connected.

When I kill them all, the playlist will be nothing but covers of Sympathy for the Devil. That will bother them the most.

Drawn Out Pauses

2010-01-20T18:14:00.000-08:00

You will note that there was a drawn out pause there for a while, from October 30th until now. That is because I started working again in the first week of November. I started working contract and needed to focus on getting a lot of things done for the new job, even on my spare time. Holidays didn't help either. But I'm back. For now. Sort of. We'll see what happens. :-)

I actually do drawn-out pauses in real life. Not for dramatic effect, but usually I try to encapsulate my thoughts into more succinct comments than I would initially throw out. This drives my wife crazy, because she loves to interject as soon as she has something to say. This drives me crazy in turn because she's interrupting my train of thought. And then we arm wrestle, and then she beats me.

No, no.

See, I've gone back edited this twice already as I think of more to add. The job market right now is really rough, and I'm very thankful to be working again. It definitely did a number on my mental well-being, although not as bad as eight years ago while in Seattle. That was the worst - I was laid off twice in a row in a span of six months. I also turned thirty which wasn't well received, strangely enough. I took it much better this time around, but you definitely feel it eat at you, question your self-worth. But like I said, better this time around and my wife was a big help in that.

Context 9: I Hate World-Building

2010-01-20T17:47:00.000-08:00

I am not the kind of person who enjoys world-building. I keep thinking it's a pre-requisite for good storytellers but really, I'm not a fan. I like writing plots, that's my favorite aspect. But as I've said before, one of my main players is a journalist in real life, so when he digs into something, he REALLY DIGS.

And of course, you have these moral quandaries - do I write the extra materials if they're not pertinent or do I just tell him it writes out nothing? Well... I tend to write it out anyway, mostly because I find that I'll pull it back around and make it useful in the long-term anyway. But it's definitely a test occasionally. Thank God for Wikipedia. I do a lot of cribbing from Wikipedia and Google just for the background material that I don't want to write too in-depth for.

I do enjoy creating "Slusho's" in-game however - in-game props that keep popping up throughout the game that don't really add anything except for a little flavor. Slusho's is the drink that pops up in JJ Abrams work, just like Red Apples are the cigarette of choice for Q. Tarantino. Here are some of my favorites:

Burger Disco - I love the idea of Burger Disco as fast food joint with a 70's theme, all the staff wearing wide-collars and polyester flairs, the drive thru requires you to speak into a giant disco ball and of course the breakfast menu serves... Disco Biscuits. These things just come to me.

Girl from Ipanema - Every elevator plays this in my games. It's a tradition that started from the Blues Brothers movie and I think it's always a great little thing to have playing. Third game session, the players were being attacked by a giant snake woman that was clawing at them through the ceiling door, all the while I was humming "duh-duh-duh, da-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh..."

Huevo Bandito - This combines two of my favorite types of restaurants, Mexican and the International House of Pancakes. The idea of a Mexican omelet restaurant cracks me up, along with their catchphrase "Mmmmmm...Caramba!"

Namaste! - Despite the obvious allusions to Lost, this was actually more of a throwback to Alan Moore's Watchmen and the Gunga Diner.

Part of the joy of these little pieces of ST-flair is that allows me to occasionally slip in important pieces of info without them realizing it. Since the early portions of the game, the players have been refueling at Sirocco Petroleum, not realizing the owner was part of "the Nine Unknown Men". And last game, Builders' Insurance was even referenced as the sponsor of the game, but it slipped right past them that insurance agents were strangely involved in darker investigations that they were encountering.

Well we've been through six games so far, and I have requested a brief respite while I gather my thoughts about the next six games. Some plans have been made, others are straight up reprecussions from their previous actions. But more on that at another time.

Memories of Knotts Berry Farm (part II)

2009-09-23T12:07:00.000-07:00

While looking through photos online, I remembered this little baby. Nowadays, it's just a tower where you can go up in the sky cabin and see a panoramic view of Orange County. Wasn't always. Originally, it was the Parachute ride. It wasd the equivalent of being on an elevator - an open, no seatbelt sort of elevator that went eight stories and could let you DIE IF YOU FELL OUT.

This is where I developed my fear of heights, might I add. Oh, yes. I remember this distinctly. My grandmother and I went up in one of those tiny things, I must have been six years old and it would go waaaaay up... and then drop you hurdling to the ground, only to stop at the last minute. And just to make sure you didn't forget the experience... it did it again. I had never been so scared in all my life, and I remember my knees shaking as I clutched to my grandmother (who was probably just as scared as I was.) Why we went on the ride, I have no idea. But we did. And I never went on that bastard ever again. Now I'm lucky if I can get up on a ladder.

Still... good memories. :-) That's what childhood's all about, developing phobias that last a lifetime.

Memories of Knott's Berry Farm

2009-09-23T11:07:00.001-07:00

Growing up, I wasn't a Disney kid. Oh sure, I liked going to Disneyland (name a kid who doesn't) but I didn't feel that mystic connection some kids have (and some adults, too.) to the Land of the Giant Mouse. I wasn't a Six Flags Magic Mountain sort, either. No, friends and neighbors, growing up there was only one place that was considered the Special Treat of the Summer - Knott's Berry Farm.

Oh, I loved Knott's as a kid - everything about it. It's slightly depressing to see Knott's these days, since it was purchased by CedarFair Inc. (Now it comes across like a rundown version of Magic Mountain.) But there was a time, at least in the candy-colored fog of my memories, that Knott's was something special and in my young mind, superior to Disneyland in every way. some Southern California kids memorize the layout of the Magic Kingdom, but I *knew* Knott's Berry Farm - first you hit Ghost Town, then you went straight up to the Roaring 20's, then across to Fiesta Village. And always, you hit the Log Ride first.

You'd think I would be a fan of roller coasters as a kid, but I wasn't. As a matter of fact, I despised them (at least until I was 14.) But so many things about Knott's hold special memories in my mind - I was a bigger fan of the 20's style Gasoline Alley cars than Disneyland's Autopia. And the Bumper Cars! You know you loved the Bumper Cars. C'monnnnn, ya did. I was a big fan of the silly Western dioramas throughout Ghost Town, I could spend hours looking at all that stuff. And if you're not down with the Bear-y Tales, stop reading this immediately. You are no friend of mine. Do you remember how the whole Bear-y Tales ride smelled of boysenberry? Is there anything better than that???!! Just looking at the older photos of the park make me wistful for a different time when you could get a penny in a bottle, drink Boysenberry punch and have funnel cake while waiting to ride the stagecoach. Ooh, ooh! Do you remember the Whacky Soapbox Racers? Those were my absolute favorite, man.

Now that I'm older, I've learned a lot about Knott's - yes, it was the first theme park. And we all know the story of how it started as a berry stand, that became a Chicken stand and then Walter Knott transported the old buildings of Calico, CA to create the Calico Ghost Town to amuse the people waiting to have their chicken dinners. That's probably what I found so endearing, it grew organically without a real "plan" to its expansion. It just kind of did it.

Like I said, it's not the same now. Maybe it never was. But I think I want to go back anyway. If nothing else... for the funnel cake.

RPG Tripe: Casting Slips

2009-09-16T15:18:00.000-07:00

You probably think you're looking at Tricia Helfer, star of Battlestar Galactica, Chuck and Burn Notice. But for my players, this is Tabitha Strong, their handler in our RPG game, Context 9. It's a constant challenge for GM's to have to explain what an NPC looks like, without repeating the same things over and over. (brown cloak, tall, gray doublet, rapier.) Frankly, I find it annoying and distracting anyway - when you look at people in real life, you subconsciously acknowledge their appearance in a few moments or less. That's why I started doing what I call "casting slips."

For NPC's, I cast them as minor (or even major) actors and print out their photo on a slip of paper, reading "This person is:" I usually leave the character name blank, allowing them to get a visual on the person before a name (just like real life, more often than not.) When they're introduced, I write in their name. Post-game session, I tell the players the actual actor.

This little trick serves a couple of purposes - to begin with, it gives me as the GM, guidelines on how to act as this NPC when interacting with the players. (e.g. Imagine your players interacting with Christopher Lloyd playing a college professor.) It also helps the players develop a better minds' eye image and can even affect roleplay. Case in point:

The actor to my right is David Paymer, you've seen him, trust me. He plays an NPC manager in my RPG. For some reason, one of my players took an immediate and intense dislike to the character within thirty seconds. After session, I asked Frank why he disliked him so intensely. His answer - "I don't like that actor." And you know, that's more like real life than anything I could've described. Sometimes, there are people you just don't like for no particular reason. And it made the roleplay far more interesting and "in the moment" than if I had described his appearance and tried to make him dislikeable on my own meager acting abilities. As a GM, I think that's a win.

Another use of casting slips is creating about a dozen or so random encounter slips - faces with no specific NPC assigned. When the players have gone off the reservation, it's no longer a challenge to roleplay the scenario. I either pull a slip at random or think about who I'd like to imitate at that time. I write in the name, bang. They're ready to go. With this, it's easy to make random NPC's into long-term characters, because the interchange is more personable and real. It also helps keep up the veil - by having the same methodology for describing the "random" NPC's as the story-driven NPC's, they're never sure who's 100% important. They spend more time really interacting with the characters, making it a better interchange. Sometimes it means they'll take a little longer than normal, but it still makes it a good experience.

Frank (the player who disliked David Paymer) has enjoyed this system so much, he's using it for his own upcoming RPG. I welcome you to give it a try, and tell me your results.

Why the Hell Did I Write a Song About Vinny Malachi??

2009-09-10T16:33:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday, we (Action 45) debuted a new tune at KEGS in Redondo Beach called "Vinny Malachi." You've probably already read me talk about Vinny, who is a great guy and the original bassist for Action 45 if you didn't know. The joke of the song is in the chorus which is "I'm in a band with Vinny Malachi, it's true. AND SO ARE YOU!" (Because Vinny's in like seven bands or something like that.)

The "How" of the song is pretty funny - Jadine had been out of town for a few days, and I had gone to bed after fooling around on the internet for a little while (it was pretty late in the evening.) And as I tried to unwind and go to sleep, which is hard when Jadine's not home (and vice-versa), I started mentally singing the hook/chorus. And it made me laugh so much, I had to write it down immediately before I forgot it. I wrote half the tune in one night, and then finished it later in the week. Naturally the guys were slightly suspicious about the song, because the tune has some pretty cheesy hooks in it (by design, mind you.) But as a whole, the tune works pretty well.

The lyrics of the song originally were intended as a "Alex Chilton" motif, ala the Replacements. But they turned into something a little more, basically my statement about what it's like to form a low-level band and why you do it. "Maybe there will be no fame, no one else will know our name but everybody in the club will know....I'M IN A BAND WITH VINNY MALACHI, I'M IN A BAND WITH VINNY MALACHI..." You get it. We don't do this for the fame, we do it because we enjoy it and that's what it's all about really.

RPG Tripe - Social Media Tools

2009-09-09T14:24:00.001-07:00

Wow, I'm really going on about this. I didn't think I would have a lot to say on this rpg, but it would appear I do. One of the tools I've been using with some pretty good results is a localized social network. Granted, I don't have a lot of players, but by creating a Ning network for Context 9, I have been able to centralize the rules, answer game questions, post photos of ingame and out-of-game info and otherwise create a separate world for the players to access.

The blogging function has been particularly nice, because it has allowed me the opportunity to post daily "news bulletins" from the weird news of the world. Some of it is filler, some of it is game material that will come up later in the game. Ultimately it exists as a separate environment for the players' experience. I'm not sure if it would be as beneficial for a non-modern game environment, but I imagine it could.

If reading this, you would like to take a peek, provide your e-dress in the comments and I'll send you an invite.

Context 9 - More About Corporations

2009-09-09T11:55:00.000-07:00

I find corporations as a background fascinating, because they really do have a different working dynamic and set of rules outside of most organizations such as the government or the church. The purpose of a corporation is, ultimately, to make a profit. Sure, there's the platitudes of "do no harm", and "help the community" and "service the customer." Some of them really do that, might I add - don't get me wrong. But they do it hand in hand with...making a profit. And that's just dandy, in my philosophy. Nothing wrong with making a little scratch here and there, although ethics are something that complicates everything for everyone and corporations are no different.

If you have your characters coming from a corporation, ethics become a different beast altogether. Your characters no longer have a moral compass that makes straightforward sense, but shades of gray that requires them to draw their own internal lines. Case in point - Blackwater in Iraq. These guys are soldiers of a sort, but they're corporate soldiers. So despite what they may say about ethical actions, they really are beholden to the company. And the more they adhere to that company charter, the further they'll go in the company. That doesn't mean a lack of ethics, mind you, but it requires more moral gray (which is what I like in character backgrounds.)

With Context 9, the players are working for the Rhodes Corporation - a pastiche of the Hearst Corporation where the players have multiple levels of access to information, but not necessarily the most ethical boss, at least hypothetically. Good old Arlington Rhodes (the CEO) is a wonderful chap (so I'm saying), but he certainly doesn't have to be. Ultimately the lesson of having your characters work for a corporation is... money can make shit happen. Doesn't mean it's good shit, however.

Context 9 - Origins of the Genre

2009-09-09T09:06:00.000-07:00

I wanted to include elements of Cthulu, but open the genre to go multiple routes. The first thing I thought of was Warren Ellis's Planetary... which is proof of even more geekness. If you're unfamiliar with the work, comic book writer Warren Ellis did a very interesting series that allowed him to explore different comic book tropes but from a third-person perspective. "Archaeologists to the Universe" they were called, or something to that effect anyway. In the series, they face off on the Asian horror/action movie genre, Doc Savage and a billion others things. I liked that freedom.

One of the more interesting things I like about Planetary, strictly from a GM perspective is the use of a large company as the gathering point for the players. Most of the time, players get thrown together in a modern setting as a branch of the government in some fashion. That's a little old hat, and rather limiting if you ask me. Coming from a large media corporation, I have personally know the power of working for an international company - in my own experience, I was able to go to the New York office, attend brainstorm sessions in Miami and do a thousand different things that really only a large media company could provide.

It also provided the "Clark Kent" scenario - Clark Kent (and Peter Parker for that matter), worked for a newspaper so he could keep up to date on breaking news. A large media company can do that. Oh and the cover story is stronger - at any moment, you can flash your media company credentials anywhere in the world, suggest you're there to interview someone or whatever, and then you have no questions raised. Granted, you may also be looked down upon by being a member of the press, (particularly if it's a specific branch of the press, say "Fox News" or "The Drudge Report"), but at least you have the opening available to you.

So agents of a large media company, that was pretty intriguing to me (and I had experience in working for one.) Having worked for a laaaaarge corporation also provides a different perspective in how you navigate internally through it all. Very strange paradoxes in a large company - it's easy to requisition a million dollar piece of equipment and yet still justify to your superiors why you use so many pencils. Go figure.

I also opened up the background, saying there was a period of heroes in the 40's that had sinced passed out of fashion, a fad that had people running around in spandex-like outfits a la the early days of the Watchmen. I wanted to keep that option open without making it a cliche, so I put it on the level of flagpole sitting and telephone booth stuffing. ("What's a telephone booth?" Shut up.)

There is a dark cosmology in the background of the game however, one that I'm developing organically. I have a lot of the background universe clarified in my own brain, some written down, but I'm letting certain details work themselves out. It's better that way, because I find if I let the story unfold like a piece of paper, it feels more natural. At least for the cosmology, the scenario they're running through is a little more detailed in advanced. More on that later.

Context 9 - Origins of the System

2009-09-09T01:10:00.000-07:00

The group wanted to do something a little more consistent, and our usual DM, Frank, was tired of always being the DM. So I offered to run the gane, although I knew right off it wouldn't be D&D. One... I'm lousy at D&D. Two... I own nothing from D&D. So it couldn't be that. I wanted to try my hand at something a little more reality-grounded anyway, I'm pretty lousy at making things up that I don't have a kinship towards, and outside of the LotR movies, I got nothing. Straight up nothing.

So Call of Cthulu was suggested, which presented two problems. One... I'm not really a fan of Lovecraft, and two... Frank had read everything the series ever put out. CoC, Lovecraft, Delta Green, probably CthuluTech too. He's sick that way. I'm not a fan of Cthulu because it just seems... I dunno, a little depressing. "There's a great ancient evil out there." What is it? "Can't tell you, it will drive you insane." Then why are you mentioning it? "Because it will kill you." How do I fight it? "You can't." Why not? "You'll go insane." Okay, that's a thrilling game.

Now I'm also laid off right now. A temporary situation, grant you, but I'd rather save my shekkels for other things than a series of RPG books. I know that makes me lame, and I feel for my designer buddies out there. But I got a needy cat, and she likes the wet stuff. Take it up with her. Luckily, Wizards of the Coast recently allowed the D20 Modern system to be legally downloaded from the website, under Open License. Thank you, WotC. I have now forgiven you for your shenanigans fifteen years ago when I worked there.

So d20 Modern it is, with a few changes. But the system is basic enough to where I can use it and keep everyone basically on the same page. The Hero system is a little wonky, but we're making do.

So that's the rules system. The premise was a little more complicated.

Now where was I?

2009-09-06T23:54:00.001-07:00

Oh yeah. So I got laid off. And although that was awhile ago, and yes, I had more free time, I just didn't feel comfortable writing in the blog during that time. Don't ask, I couldn't explain it if I tried.

Instead, I did a couple of other things. First of all, I've been going to the library incessantly. I probably go once a week and check out about a half dozen books each time. I usually finish them in a two week period, that's what being laid off gives you.

I also started working on an RPG. No, not a rocket launcher. Actually, I've been working on a role-playing campaign for some friends of mine in Upland. This is the first RPG I've worked on since...well, is it seven years? My lord, it just might be. I've haven't done stuff like this in awhile. Does this make me a geek? Probably. But fuck you, you're reading this so obviously you're just as bad. Otherwise you'd be off curing cancer or something, you prick. Anyway, the name of this game is Context 9, and it's based off the Wizards of the Coast d20 Modern system.

What does that mean? I'll tell you. Awhile ago, TSR was purchased by WotC (the Magic card people.) They created a system called the d20 System, which basically streamlined their product line to a relatively consistent system. The d20 Modern system isn't swords and sorcery kinda dealy, but a modern-day setting which you can use for a couple of different things. Oh, and did I mention it's free to download? Yep, absolutely free. And when you're unemployed, that's handy.

So I've been writing a campaign which is partially X-Files, partially Fringe, partially Call of Cthulu and partially Buckaroo Banzai, if it was all written by Hunter S. Thompson on a coke binge. So far it;s been entertaining and been keeping me relatively busy while I work for work. Shut up, it was either this or build a nuclear device.

So I may be talking about that here while I rant about everything else. Don't worry, it won't be too uber-geek, probably me just talk about what I've been doing with the game and the overall chronicle. If you're one of my players, you're probably not going to find anything surprising or a spoiler here. Consider it a director's commentary to the game at large.

So there you go.

Everyday is Halloween - What's Lurking on the Porch??

2009-06-17T15:32:00.003-07:00

Oh how I love the October month, home of my favorite holiday of all time... Rosh Hoshanna. No, no. I do mean Halloween. Yes, the only time of the month you can hang a dead body from the roof and no one calls the authorities. I do so love Hallowwen. Nothing like watching a child biting into caramel-covered onion.

I've mellowed in recent years when it comes to the holiday, actually. There was a time, all the kids in the neighborhood lived in abject fear of what I might be lurking as on our porch come October 31. Probably the best outfit was the simplest - Using oversized clothing, I stuffed my shirt and pants with newspapers and work gardening gloves and a large, full-head mask .Then I laid down on the porch, crumpled with the bowl on my lap. And waited. Quietly. Heh heh heh.

Now, every kid's seen the makeshift dummy stuffed with newspapers on the porch. So they walk up with little to no concern at all. And then they look around to find the grown-up tending the candy bowl. When they don't see one, they usually dig their hands in to grab a full fistful. That's when you grab them. Or stand up. Or both. You can only imagine the shrieks.

When it's a little kid, and I mean a really young one, you just don't move. It's too easy and it's overly cruel. No need to cause permanent lifelong nightmares. It's usually best for the nine to eleven year old who thinks they know the score on everything. Oh, that's a rare treat. The best one was a six year old girl who was trick-or-treating with his smart-alecky brother. Yeah, I could hear the brother coming up the lawn already when the little girl meekly said, "There's a man in there." and pointed at me. The brother of course knew "better."

"No there isn't. It's just a dummy."
"Uh-huh. That's a man."
"No it's not. See?" He kicked my foot, showing how smart he was.

That's when I lunged toward him, causing him to scream in a high-pitched squeal as he ran across the street and would not return. I think his parents had to go get him.

(The next Halloween story: The Haunted House and Campus Life.)

Everyday is Halloween - This Monster is Brought to you by Campus Life

2009-06-17T15:32:00.001-07:00

Looking back on my earliest childhood years, the stuff that barely pre-dates the Wonder Years era of everyone's life, I remember with reflection my older brother's high school ambiance. My brother is nine years older, btw - which means his high school heyday was the late 70's until his graduation in 1981.

My brother at the time was relatively active in Christian Campus groups and things like that. At least I think he was. Hard to remember. I remember he went to a lot of them, and that's where I'm going with this - Halloween Haunted Houses, brought to you by Campus Life. This memory is very pervasive - every year, the local chapter of the High School Christian organization would put together a Haunted House for charity in October. And WOW, that was some cool stuff looking back at it. Granted, I was way too young for going to that kind of thing (I'm twisted enough as it is.) But they were ENORMOUSLY popular and profitable, and I would remember poring over their flyers when my brother would bring them home. I could not wait to be old enough to go.

It must have been around... 1979, 1980 maybe, when Campus Life closed down their annual Haunted House due to complaints from within the religious community, saying it promoted a anti-Christian holiday, satanism and bad dentistry. I was very disappointed by that, and still am. It seemed fairly innocent to me, and still does - Halloween doesn't convert anyone to witchcraft anymore than Thanksgiving turns us all Puritan (although everyone is strangely Irish on St. Patrick's Day. Even Foobonic.) I truly believe the best way to conquer nightmares is to expose them for what they are - a little grease paint, a little dark lighting and a whole lot of shouting. Nothing to truly be afraid of.

Now, there is a substitute for the Campus Life Haunted House - Hell House, a religious-based haunted house demonstration of sorts that shows you horrors based on their own religious interpetations. I dunno, it's just not the same to me. Maybe I'm yearning for more nostalgic things. Seemed more innocent then. But I was young. What do I know.

(The next Halloween story: Monsters and Little Kids.)

Everyday is Halloween - Monsters and Little Children

2009-06-17T15:31:00.001-07:00

Little kids are fascinating creatures, particularly the malleability of their sense of fear. Oh sure, it's easy to assume that kids have a greater set of fears based on the unknown (and if you're only somewhere between five to eight years old, there's a lot of unknown in the world.) But once the light is turned on and they full understand a situation, the fear is 100% gone. It's amazing, actually. Here is my evidence to this:

One year, I worked in a haunted house out in Washington state for a local charity group. I can't remember what the charity itself was, but it involved little kids as part of the volunteers. That particular year, I was the first monster the audience would see - a chained up mime wielding a bloody knife in what was called the Dollhouse. (I'll talk about that more later.) When in-character, I was pretty frightening even by grown-up standards.

The first couple of nights, the children were scared to death of me when I had that make-up on. Absolutely terrified. It was peculiar too - they would see me show up, watch me put on the make-up and once the lights went out, they thought I was someone else.

But by the third night, something had changed - I don't know if it was because I had spoken with them enough or what. But all of the kids finally made the connection that I was the same person, and the monster was just an act. That's when it got interesting, because now I was friendly monster, even in-character. They got it, and would come by my little caged area to say hello and chat. Well they would chat, I would be mute. They understand that, too. It was utterly amazing, because I was doing the same things I had done two nights in a row, but now they perceived me as a non-threat, even while carrying a bloody knife. Kids.

The strangest element was they all suddenly understood that while they were no longer scared by me, grown-ups still were. So they would take me by the gloved hand and walk with me over to people to introduce me. In-character, no less. These parents were scared out of their wits, while the kids laughed at them. I became a fun boogey-man that they used to watch the frightened reactions from the authority figures in their lives.

Maybe that's why it's so easy for monsters to become figures for children to latch onto - Dracula, Frankenstein's Monster, even Freddy Krueger from the Nightmare on Elm Street series - how the heck did that happen? Freddy now has action figures and fake little claw hands for kids to play with. In their minds, the monster is now tamed and no matter what, he's no longer scary. Again, kids are amazing. Maybe he's acting bad, but he's just not terrifying anymore. Adults however, once that fear latches on, it's stuck with them for life.

Especially about clowns. Heh heh. More on that later.

(The Next Halloween Story: Everybody Loves a Clown. Except THAT Woman.)

Everyday is Halloween - All The World Loves a Clown, except THAT woman

2009-06-17T15:30:00.000-07:00

As I indicated previously, children can get over their fears in a short order. Not so with grown-ups. Oh no, once you have that scar on your psyche, it stays there for life, pudding. And the Halloween Haunted House experience showed me in spades how many people fear clowns. Severely fear clowns, no less. Granted, I was happy to oblige in pressing that button something fierce.

As I indicated, I was the first monster of this particular house and in-character, I was chained to the wall of my little section, which had a guard rail keeping me from the audience as they walked by in a tour (Don't ask me why they did that way, they just did.) Before they came inside, they were assured that nothing could come beyond the rail and they were all quite safe.

Bold-faced lie. My chain was set to come loose as soon as I pulled on it. So when they came up, I'd reach for them in the zombie formation, get stopped by the chain, turn around to give a tug and then step over the guard rail. You cannot believe how many people sucked wind at this, realizing there was no barrier. Immediately, it put them on edge.

But the people afraid of clowns were particularly on edge, and one night during the last tour of the group, I found the ultimate target - a woman deftly afraid of clowns. Shriekingly afraid of them. And her friends thought it was hilarious, pushing her in my direction. "Come on Tracey, say hello!" They laughed as the woman screamed in fright. This really showed me a truth of the human condition - no matter who you are or where, in a haunted house your friends are outright bastards. Finally, I let her go - for a minute. When I realized there were no other tours coming through, I ducked deeper into the haunted house, hiding in the maze section, waiting for her to come by. It had been a few minutes, and once she passed by, I crept out and whispered,
"....Traaaaaaaaceeeeeeeeeeeeeeee..........."
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" She screamed bloody murder and ran further ahead.

Of course, I wasn't going to let this stop at two good instances, so I hustled ahead further for a third. And a fourth. You'd think she's get used to it.
"....Trrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaacccceeeeeeeeeeeee..........."
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
No way. Meanwhile, her friends are having a ball with this. What she did to them to deserve this, I simply have no idea. But they were just egging on the situation. After I tagged her again on the exit to the parking lot,
"...TRAAAAAAAAACCCCEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE..........."
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
She sprinted across to the other side of the parking lot and simply would not come back. And here's the funny part: This is when her friends decide to ruin her for life, by suggesting I climb, that's right - climb into their mini-van and duck down while they drive up to get her. These are her friends coming up with this one. And me, being the cruel fellow I am, go right along with this. As they slowly drive over to her, the sudden realization of what I have done comes crashing down upon me:

I have crawled into the mini-van of a complete stranger. Absolute stranger. Now I realize my own folly, and think to myself in a most charming train of thought - "Wouldn't it be funny if they killed me?" Imagine how that would go over in the newspaper - Man found dead, dressed as mime, stabbed to death by frantic woman scared out of her mind. That's a little something for the high school alumni newspaper, "Hey whatever happened to one guy? Oh didn't you hear? He was stabbed to death while dressed like a mime." You can't have a more undignified death without a bodily function coming into play.

Well obviously they didn't kill me, instead they pulled right up along side her hiding behind a light post. These are friends, people. Good friends of this lady. Probably not anymore, but at the time they were! And they're just setting her up for the big one - "Come on, Tracey. Get in the car."
"I can't, I know he's out there."
"No he's not. Get in the car." And now we're in a Hitchcock film. You know what's coming. They know what's coming.
"He's out in the parking lot, coming after me!" But she doesn't know what's coming.
"We promise he's not there. Will you get in the car?"
"You're sure he's not out there?"
"We're sure."
After a pause, "Okay."

And then the side-door wheeled open.
"....TRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE..........."
And then GOD could hear this woman's scream after that.

Ya know... I often look back at that, during Halloween. And I think about how I know that somewhere out there, there is a woman whos life I know have deeply and profoundly touch. And I imagine she remembers me from time to time, crying uncontrollably while she clutches herself tightly in a quiet, well-lit room. And I feel good about that, because ultimately, it's what we leave behind in others that truly marks our place in the world. Maybe I have not achieved great things, but I sleep pretty well knowing I made a difference in someone's life. Like Big Brothers of America or something. And maybe someday, she'll be allowed to graduate beyond the rounded scissors in Crafts class, and she'll think of me and my humble work. And then go back to crying. A life well spent.
(The Next Halloween Story: We Live Together but Die Alone.)

Everyday is Halloween - We Die Alone

2009-06-17T15:29:00.001-07:00

So if you've been reading my blog regularly, you probably already a few of the stories where I was working in a haunted house for charity ("Trrraaaaaaaciiiiiii...."), and I had mentioned I had a worse story than the poor woman that will probably never sleep right again because I managed to scare the crap out of her five or six times in one evening.

This would be the story, and I recount this anecdote with no pride whatsoever. Instead, I share it in order to be complete and acknowledge this as an unintentional faux pas. As I said before, this haunted house would take groups of people as "tours" of sorts, leading them through the maze and as I stated, I was the first thing they saw.

A good friend of mine would occasionally duck herself into the crowd as they were queuing up to go into the house. She wasn't dressed fancy, she would just be quiet, hang in the back and wait. As soon as they would walk by, occasionally I would grab her, pull her into the "Dollhouse" and start stabbing her repeatedly as she screamed bloody murder with blood flying everywhere offstage. It was a simple bit of business, and it wouldn't take a rocket scientist to realize she was a plant. But we did it because we found it amusing, and you need to break these things up from time to time. Otherwise you'd get a little nutty, and being a homicidal mime in a haunted house is as far as you really ought to go.

Now I have no idea how this little girl got to the haunted house, she was easily... five years old, if that. The idea that her parents may have dropped her off for a haunted house seems a mite ghastly to me on its own merits. But she was alone. Bad sign.

Now my friend Tamy (the victim) saw this little girl in line, wide-eyed and frightened to go into the haunted house. Tamy likes to come off as a tough broad, but she's not really. She's actually a sweetheart and likes kids. So when she saw the little girl in line alone, Tamy approached her, reassured that she would be fine and that she would go through the maze with her. And then Tamy said the thing, which in hindsight, probably was a poor choice of words - "Don't worry, sweetheart. Nothing's going to happen to you while I'm with you."

Yeaaaaaaaaaaah. It would be easy to think Tamy was setting the poor little girl up. She wasn't, I assure you. Tamy would not do that. And although I may seem a dark-hearted sort, I would certainly not do such a thing had I known. Strangely enough, I'm not cruel. Well not to little kids. And this would be cruel, if it had been planned.

But it wasn't. The crowd walks up... I see Tamy and I grab her. I'm thinking it's business as usual, unaware of what she had said to the little girl.
Understandably, she starts fighting. But this time, she's fighting saying, "No! Don't!" And she's whispering it, not her normal screams.
I, being a moron, think to myself "Wow, Tamy's putting in a lot of fight this time. I wonder why she's whispering."
And we struggle and I eventually pull her in, and I glance over my shoulder at the little girl... who has blanched. Absolutely terrified. Because now... she has to go through entire haunted house... alone. And the one person she was expecting to protect her from the monsters in the haunted house?

I just "killed" her.

So... I don't do Haunted Houses anymore. They're a great deal of fun and I think they're harmless provided you know what you're getting into and you have parental supervision. But if you don't... well... maybe the kids should stay at home. That's all I'm saying. It's not nice to be cruel to little tiny children, I think. Adults are a different matter. Especially when they're gullible, when they work at the Haunted House... But that's another story.

Well. THAT happened.

2009-06-17T14:31:00.000-07:00

For those of you not in the loop, I was laid off yesterday from the day job. Strangely enough I wasn't surprised, we had been cruising toward that direction for awhile. But because of this, I have decided to eliminate my profile on their site. This means I will be transferring my content of its blog to the band's blog or to here, depending on the appropriateness of the content itself.

I was with that company five years. That's quite a ride.

New Website Photos.

2009-05-29T23:05:00.000-07:00

Another little booby prize/chore of the new website project - photo management. In a year, we've managed to be the subject of multiple photo ops. (Some we didn't even know about all the time.) Because of that, we've never really managed them very well and now I'm paying the price - scouring the different band resources, hard drives, what have you, and getting them uploaded, organized and captioned. Captioning is a pain.

Re-inventing the stick

2009-05-29T09:32:00.000-07:00

Most of my free time, and even some of my unfree time, has been spent on re-tooling the band website to a new backend system. I did this for a couple reasons, not the least of which being I learned to dislike our old site with a passion. I have no one to blame to myself, really. I put it up because when I joined the band, there was no online presence outside of our MySpace profile.

Bands really shouldn't do that, however. Oh sure, when you're still building up your presence, it doesn't do any harm and saves you a few steps (and bucks for that matter.) But eventually, you realize many people will not go to a MySpace page and you have to think beyond the box. Besides, there's only so much you can do with your MySpace profile.

So I created a makeshift site, and let me tell you, I hated it within a month. But I never really knew what direction to go until about a month ago. I recently got on a kick for reading music promotion articles through a variety of sites, and I found one that showed how to make a band website using Drupal, an open-source CMS program. They said it was easy enough, and I thought I was pretty smart, ho ho ho. What could go wrong?

I couldn't even INSTALL Drupal. But I did find a way to install a so-called easier CMS called Joomla. And it was easier, up to a point. After all - Joomla installed, Drupal didn't. then the hard parts ensued. Open source, in Internet parlance, is caveat emptor. Especially when you're trying to find documentation or resources. THAT is not so easy to find. Finding a decent template was a chore, let alone modifying it to something relatively nice.

I'm not 100% stupid, I bought a book from Amazon to help me with this. Unfortunately, it's been about a week and I still haven't got the book. Thanks, Amazon. A sane, reasonable person would wait until the book arrived. Naturally, such a description does not befit my person.

So it's been hunt and peck the whole way - turn on a setting, see if it sucks, and then turn it off if need be. Hmm, need a functionality? Look it up online. Can you apply it? Okay, move on. I have yet to even show the new site to the band, because I want it to be at a semblance of decency before I do. They're visual people, they don't necessarily understand "alpha" means... I AIN'T DONE YET!

More of this as I get closer to launching the thing. That will be a full weekend affair, I'm sure of it.

The Week After: May 8 at Relax Bar

2009-05-18T10:49:00.000-07:00

Man, I am just sucking with getting the updates online. But at least I'm catching up. May 8 was a special show, you could say - it was my birthday. I like playing shows on my birthday, it's like having a club host your party although I get nervous as hell everytime we do it. I want people to have a good time and all that, like a worried host.

I was really happy that two of my favorite bands in SoCal were able to play - Psychostar and Killjoy. I'll probably write up an entry about Killjoy at some point, because I really like their music and they're cool guys, too. Psychostar you know already, but let me just say again... they rock.

This was also our first show at Relax Bar, I had seen it several times while traveling down Hollywood Boulevard. It's right on the entrance to the Thai Town area, and shares a door with a Thai resturaunt next door. You know that giant hotdog on the corner of Western and Hollywood? The hot dog place that became a Thai place, then sold car insurance? It's right next to that. Nice back patio, most of the band socialized and set up their in between things. Lanie of Psychostar also brought Andi, former lead singer of Snap-Her to the show, and she was very cool to meet. Mig from Smigma Productions also came out, as well as the guys from Flashrock.com. (Wow, I sound like Vinny.)

I did get a really cool gift for my birthday, Evelyn and Bill found the coolest maracas ever at a thrift store - red feather trim. I used them for our new song, Open Road. With any luck, I'll get to use them when we go into the studio to record the tune. Provided they're not taken away from me, of course. Nothing's worse than a lead singer with a percussion instrument. I regret not bringing my own feathered boa for the show. I am nothing if I am not fabulous.

Here's the set list from the show, provided by Tom of Flashrock.com:

The Week After: VEGAS - May 2

2009-05-18T10:22:00.001-07:00

Note - Sorry for the delay in these updates, I thought I had published them but they didn't go through for some reason.

Day Two in Vegas was a little more clearheaded. And after running early Saturday morning, I felt better across the board. I don't consider myself an athlete pe se, but I do enjoy how a good run or workout clears your mind and gets your blood pumped up. And in Vegas, that's great because it gives you the energy to start the gambling/boozing/silliness all over again.

Our Saturday show was at the world famous Double Down Saloon. I have been to the DD in New York multiple times, but this was my first trip to the Vegas location.

Now Friday's show was pretty straightforward, although I felt pretty rough both before and after. Saturday's show I felt good, but I was the only one who did - Jake had recently changed the tubes in his amp, and right before Saturday's show, they chose to go out. We also foolishly forgot one of our mikes back in Los Angeles (At the DD, you gotta bring your own.) But the crowd was really cool, and made up for our technical issues. One table was the staff from the Sapphire Club, and all of them really cool (even offered a table for us at the club next time we're in town. That's a scary thought.)

The band after us were the Originators, a ska/punk style band that really had a strong local following. I liked them, they had a shitload of energy and kept the audience moving. Jake and Johny stuck around at the Double Down for the rest of the bill, but Jadine, Chris and I opted to see some of the Strip before the end of the night. We ended up over at Coyote Ugly in New York New York Casino, drinking what they called "Ugly Sticks" (about a yard of hard alcohol-mixed drinks.) Some guy asked me where I bought my hat, and I told him Los Angeles. He and his buddies were from Inglewood, and he proceeded to tell me how his first trip to Vegas was at age eight with his mom. This time, he informed me, he was doing nothing but drinking, snorting coke and getting in trouble. Maybe I wear some sort of invisible sign that encourages people to share these things.

We ended up getting more drinks, headed back to the Fremont Street area for late night shrimp cocktails, McDonald's hamburgers and a few others I don't remember too well. Strangely enough, Jake and Johny met us at the Mickey D's by rare happenstance. At 4am, the McDonald's clientele is a different sort indeed.

This was Saturday's set list:

The Week After: VEGAS - May 1

2009-05-07T23:46:00.001-07:00

Here's a premise for an entertaining reality TV show - Take one Los Angeles punk band, drop them off in Vegas, have them do two back-to-back shows, and see what happens. Good idea? It seemed so at the time.

Then again, Dr. Bob suggests that the caption to my memoirs should probably read, "It seemed like a good idea at the time." He's probably right, it's turned out to be my constant refrain for less than stellar behavior/actions/reasoning that in hindsight, should probably earn a hard thrashing across the head and shoulders. What can I do. I am Calypso. It is in my nature. To be honest, this Vegas trip was not a weekend of excess on my part *too much*, but it was indeed bad planning in the light of things.

For instance, it's probably not wise to get up at 6 in the morning to drive to Vegas if you're planning to do a show at 11pm later that night. Granted, we did the drive in three and a half hours (no lie), but by the time we got there... we had nothing to do. Couldn't really check in. Wasn't quite in the spirit of gambling yet. But a few drinks? Why yes... there are a few drinks available at noon in the Fremont Street Experience. Some of them the shape of footballs. Would this constitute a breach of the Rule, never drink anything bigger than your head? Yes, Virginia. Yes it would. And on about four hours of sleep, it's even dumber a decision.

Something about Vegas makes me an early riser, I can't explain it. Chris (our bassist) who is normally an early riser, experienced the opposite. But our show Friday was quite a little night. The Penthouse Club is exactly what you think it is, it's a strip club. But they have a pretty decent little side room called the Rock and Roll Room (naturally), where they have local bands. The sound wasn't too bad, I'm told. Although we had a bit of problems getting a decent mix on the monitors but if you get to hear anything, you're pretty blessed as a musician. Wasn't sure if the crowd liked us or not, but no one booed and Waymon managed to get multiple pages of sign-ups on our mailing list. I consider that a blessing across the board. Guilty By Association were absolutely great, as well as Raised by Apes and Thirteen Thirty Four. Might I add something about those guys - Their original name was Give Em Hell and I gotta say, that's a great band name. Don't know why they changed it, probably another band had it first. Great name though. Raised by Apes are Canadian and had just done a show at the Doll Hut in Anaheim the night before. Yeah, that was funny - seeing all of them wearing Doll Hut shirts made me laugh, considering were in Las Vegas. Wasn't the only Doll Hut shirt I saw that weekend either.

Afterward, I had to get back to our hotel and sleep. Just had to. Naturally, I woke up the next morning at 9 to go running. You heard me. I got up early to go running while staying in Las Vegas. I don't think that's natural either.

Here was Friday's set list:

The Morning After: KEGS 4/25

2009-04-29T13:23:00.000-07:00

I admit it, I'm guilty of indiscriminate blogging. I go through periods where I can literally spit out five or six blog entries on a multitude of topics...then I shut up for several weeks. Most of the time, it's because I share when I feel I got something to say (not necessarily whether you want to hear it or not.) But I have been lax in posting the post-show report for KEGS, mostly because I wanted to take a break from the thought of it for a moment.

Not that it was a bad show, once we got started. But there were a lot of little setbacks which were annoying more than anything - traffic was a bear and our drummer got caught in it coming from Claremont, parking was a little complicated, finding Kegs was tricky, stuff like that. Part of that was our own fault - Mig the promoter had sent a little bit better directions than we had to our MySpace accounts, and we hadn't checked it before leaving for the show. Totally our bad, and nothing's worse than a bunch of punk rock guys wandering a beach boardwalk, trying to find one another.

That almost sounds like we had a bad show, and we didn't. Actually, this is not meant as a slam on the show, but an accurate reporting of the troubles we experienced. There's not one but TWO parking lots for the Redondo Beach pier, and there are multiple boardwalks that make up the pier. And having never been there previously, it was a trick all around. However, once we found the place, it was a hell of a lot of fun - extremely cool waitstaff, good food and a beer concoction called the Jamaican which has now become the official beverage of our bassist, Chris - a three stacker of cider, lager and Guinness that definitely kept us in good spirits.

Carl the International Man of Mystery surprised us with a visit during his travels, along with his friend Ana and his two kids. This was their first exposure to SoCal punk rock, and I'm sure it was an eye-opener. Prancer started their show with a playful yell of "We're from Pismo Beach and Redondo sucks!" (They were just kidding folks, honest.) The Blob were really on top of their game, and hustled off to play a house party after the show. Inazuma were magic, of course. They always are. The waitstaff were so cool, they kept the bar open (and kept serving) until we were ready to leave (usually they close at 10pm. We stayed a little later than that. We were learning the ways of the Jamaican.)

So it wasn't a bad show. Just complicated. That happens. To make things easier, we're going to Vegas this weekend to play two back-to-back shows. Yeah, baby. Cuz going to another state ain't complicated whatsoever. With any luck, no one will be found lying in a ditch with their head cut off. Last week, I hoped we wouldn't end up in prison. Now I'm just aiming not to be dismembered. Aim low, and you get it.

Here was the show's set list, brought to you by Carl's daughter, Miranda:

The Morning After - The Doll Hut on 4/17

2009-04-18T08:21:00.000-07:00

I am up way to early, compared to when I went to bed. I love playing the Doll Hut, but I never manage to get home anytime sooner than 1am on a good night when I do. It's not because of the location, but rather I get caught up in talking with people, hearing bands, and of course waiting for the Tamale Guy. For me, the Tamale Guy is an important aspect of the Doll Hut experience. It's not a night at the Doll Hut without the Tamale Guy.

Last night was a celebration of Lilli's birthday, Lilli is the bartender and now booking agent of the Doll Hut and she always treats us right. It was a privilege to play the show in my opinion, and it was a crazy event. I wasn't familiar with several of the bands on the bill, but I really liked Emergency and Filfthy Fuks were pretty good too. (I think I missed Foul Response. Sorry guys.) The Yeastie Boys were the headlining act - the infamous clown punk posse that turn every show into something out of the ordinary. Did I mention Vinny's in the Yeastie Boys? Did I mention he's in every band in the OC?

But never mind that, as King Jaffe says. On with the stuff. Last night we debuted our new tune, Code of Silence, which to me is a musical combination of Dead Kennedys, System of a Down and probably a little early Suicidal Tendencies. CoS had started off as a jam in the rehearsal space while I was taking a potty break. The main riff seemed catchy so we played a little bit, added some parts and the lyrics kinda wrote themselves. Between that, Jail City and the new new one Open Road, we're writing some really interesting new material.

Last night was also the continuation of the infamous "newspaper fight" game where members of the audience start throwing balled up pieces of the OC Weekly at us, other members of the audience. It's so childish. Vinny, Vinny, why do you play this game with us? I don't know if this is becoming an OC tradition or what, but it makes a friggin' mess. Look at that photo - can you imagine losing your car keys in all that rubbish? Who's going to clean all that up? We probably shouldn't encourage this, but our saving grace is, we never start it. Really! We're the good guys, OC! Vinny started it! He threw it first! We blame him. Wise policy.

Among the folks there last night were members of the Tequila Worms, Killjoy (who I always want to state is one of my favorite bands in the OC) and a few other folks who I am forgetting on this early Saturday morning. Gah. Sorry guys, I'm still trying to find my pants. It was a wild, but loving tribute to a hell of a lady in the OC. We love ya, Lilli. Thanks for what you do.

Last night's set list is brought you by our makeshift merch girl, Bryna:

The Horse Porn Story:

2009-04-17T16:36:00.000-07:00

Occasionally, I feel the need to tell the Horse Porn story. I promise there will be no accompanying pictures. And I will try to keep the disgusting elements dialed down, as much as one can when telling the Horse Porn story. If you are of a sensitive nature, I recommend you check your Gmail or something.

There was a time, and believe me it seems so far off in the distance now, but there was a time you couldn't just send a link to something foul and disturbing on the internet. No, YouTube was still a glimmer in someone's eye and the only thing you could maaaybe find was an a/n site like the Stile Project. It was the infancy of disturbing internet media, my friends. You had to SEND it to people. (and grandkids, we wuz thankful.)

Enter my buddy, Dr. Bob (who relayed the story on his end, might I say. I am not omniscent quite yet.) My buddy Dr. Bob had a co-worker who ran over to him one day in the office, exclaiming "Dude! I have found the most disturbing video I've ever seen! It would freak out ANYONE!"
Dr. Bob shook his head. "Wouldn't bother my buddy, Deuce."
Co-worker said, "Oh man, it would!"
"I bet you ten dollars it wouldn't bother Deuce."

Like I said, I was unaware of this happening in the backstory. Dr. Bob then calls me and asks, "Would I get you in trouble if I sent you a video that was disturbing?"
"No go ahead." I was at home, so it didn't bother me.
"Okay, but you got e-mail me back after what you thought of it, after viewing."
"You bet."

And then he sent it. I will not go into the specifics of what it was, but it was a woman that really liked her horse. So much so, she was demonstrating that affection in a very intimate fashion. As Dr. Bob tells the story, there was a ten-fifteen minute silence between sending me the video and then receiving my response. Upon receiving, he called his co-worker over and they read it together.

I opted to write a review. Granted it was a three-minute video, but I thought it important to really talk about what the video seemed to be trying to say. What was the meaning this director was trying to express, his vision as it were. I may have mentioned it suggested a historical drama, a costume pieces without the costumes detailing the scandals of Catherine the Great. I also postulated on what the horse was thinking, "Hey why are we stopping in the middle of this field? We're a good two miles away from the stable, I don't think we should OH MY GODDDDD!" I figure horses might have modesty, one never knows. I concluded with the fact that certain sounds are a universal constant - it doesn't matter your nationality, you know the meaning behind a baby's laugh, the sigh of a young lady's heart....and of course, the spit.

His co-worker immediately gave up the money.

On my end, I was crying with laughter. So much so, my roommate at the time came by my room, heard me laughing at my computer and asked what was so funny. I silently motioned him over, not wanting to ruin the surprise. I then re-played the video. His eyes grew wide with sheer horror as his mouth fell open, while I continued my mad laughter. After concluding, he walked out of the room silently, avoiding me for the rest of the day. For the rest of the week, when I saw him in the house, I would greet him with the sounds of a horse neighing, just like he had heard in the video. I don't think he was my roommate for much longer after that. I sometimes send him a Christmas card, though. Usually with Clydesdales pulling a sleigh. Lately, they're returned unopened.

How Traffic School Scarred Me For Life:

2009-04-16T08:49:00.000-07:00

I'm not a car guy. I don't drive a fancy car whatsoever, I drive a Saturn. It's a good car, paid for and gets pretty good mileage. I rarely speed in it. This wasn't what I used to drive in high school, however. And occasionally, I get asked why I no longer drive muscle cars and why I've never opted to get something a little more sporty. Well... here's the reason.

It was a simple enough situation - I had been pulled over for driving too fast in a residential lane. I was eighteen at the time, driving a 1968 Camaro with a 396 engine in the sucker. Wasn't reckless driving, just too fast for the area. Most states give you a ticket, your insurance rates jump a bit and then you go on your way.

But in California, you have the option of going to Traffic School and having the infraction removed from your driving record (which is really handy when you're trying to insure a 1968 Camaro with a 396 engine. And you're 18.) So I opted for the Saturday afternoon traffic school, thinking it was worth the time but not looking too seriously at it. Although I had never done it before, I didn't think I remember a thing about the class afterward.

I was so wrong. The class was being led by a local police office, who was filling in for the normal teacher. He had never done this before either, so he was pretty much winging it himself. He went through the entire class, asking what each person had done to wind up in Traffic school. After they explained, he thought about it, told them what they should have done instead and then moved on. After getting through the class, the officer shrugged and said "Okay, well let's have lunch early. Be back in an hour and a half."

Score! I thought. This was going to be a cinch! I had my lunch, called my folks and told them how it was going. Then we went back inside, and he pulled out a VCR and television. "Look, I really don't have anything to say. You all now know what you're supposed to do. But I have this video you guys can watch. It's called Red Asphalt."

And that's when the scarring started. Red Asphalt is pretty much the Scared Straight video for vehicular offenders. It's very straightforward - it show the remnants of roadside accidents in all the gory details. And no matter what you think, whatever you think you've seen on the Internet that shows how a extremely graphic road accident looks... you saw an edited version, believe me. Because those quickie videos made from a cell phone or whatever, they never get inside the car and show you the bloodied jawbone scraped across the dashboard (or some such.) The little details just aren't there. And it always has the same monotone narration. "This was a family of four, driving home from church bingo. Three of them were killed. The fourth will never be able to chew his food properly again, because he is missing his jawbone. He is on a respirator for the rest of his life. He has no eyelids, they were burnt off in the crash. All of this could have been solved if they were a seat belt."

And then it continues. "This was a woman in her late 20's. She was driving home from work when she was hit by a speeding cement truck. She was turned inside and out and then run over by a tractor. She is in a permanent vegetative state, which is fortunate so she will never know she has no body below the esophagus. All of this could have been solved if they were a seat belt."

And so forth. After about an hour of this, we all were twitching around in our seats, trying not to wretch. Good move on lunch there, Dave. After the first one concluded, the officer stood up totally unfazed and said, "Okay, we have more time. Let me put in the next one."

The next one?!? He then put in Red Asphalt Five. Apparently it was a series, but luckily we didn't have to sit through them all. People might have started to rip out their own eyes like Oedipus Rex. "This was a grandparent in her late 60's. She was coming home from the orphanage she volunteered her time..." After another hour of this, the police officer turned the lights back on, shrugged and announced, "Alright, that's about it I guess. I'm going to let you guys go a little early, so just bring up your slips and I'll sign them."

That day, I drove home fifteen miles an hour. I've been through a few Traffic schools since then, including a so-called "Comedy Traffic School" which was the most unfunny thing I've ever experienced, (and I've had my prostate checked). But nothing, I repeat, NOTHING ever put the fear of God in me like Red Asphalt. It's too bad the Internet has probably ruined the simple elegance of showing you something so horrible, it will keep you from ever doing it again.

But then again, there's always this:

Sleep well, kids.

My Fevered Dreams of John the Baptist

2009-04-15T12:58:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago I had the flu, which is peculiar because I rarely come down with the flu. This was the first year in many I had opted not to get a flu shot and I regretted it immediately. Many people have strange dreams when they're recovering from a fever, and I'm no exception. My dreams surrounded John the Baptist.

Specifically, I dreamt about the forbidden wing of the Vatican where the religious artifacts unknowable to the normal populace were kept. Here was where Jesus's foreskin was hidden from the world, which I had also envisioned as causing a bloody uprising between those who had declared Christ to be of mortal flesh, and those who denied Christ could be any less than god incarnate. If you think that's an impossible outrage, by the way, I recommend you look back the protests surrounding "The Last Temptation of Christ" where people were shocked (Shocked!) that someone could suggest Jesus may have been tempted by the idea of living a mortal life and having sex with Mary Magdalene. Imagine physical proof he was circumcised.

So back to John the Baptist - in my fevered state, I believed there was a hidden room within the Vatican where John the Baptist's severed head was kept locked away from the rest of the Church and Christendom, because it did little more than scream obscenities all day and night. My theory was this - After John the Baptist baptized Jesus Christ, Jesus granted John the gift of everlasting life, not unlike what was prophesized for Lazarus (and ultimately the Wandering Jew, but that's a different story.) This everlasting life was given so John the Baptist could continuing doing the Lord's work on Earth, baptizing people in the Holy Church. When Herodias conspired to have John the Baptist beheaded by having her daughter Salome dance for her husband, Herod, John the Baptist was unafraid due to the promise made by the Holy Christ of everlasting life.

Little did John understand that despite the promise made (and kept) by Christ, it could not undo the beheading itself. Thus, after being beheaded, John the Baptist to his horror found himself still alive. And to this day, the head frantically spews forth obscenities of every form, in order to offend God in order to remove the "gift of everlasting life" and finally be granted the peace of death.

This is kind of a bastardization of the Hellboy concept, but give me some slack here - I was having a fever dream. Between that and the foreskin of Jesus, I think I make a good case for getting flu shots every year.

THEY CALL IT ART!!!!

2009-04-14T15:21:00.001-07:00

This past weekend, me and the Mrs. hopped over to the Pomona Art Walk and I'm really glad we did. It was the kind of event that the Arts Colony had been trying to have for at least as long as I can remember. If it's always like that, I got no idea. But we're definitely going back. I had expected we would only be there for about an hour, have dinner and then hustle home. Instead, we were there easily three hours and could've stayed longer - plenty of wine and snacks to keep you going, easily fifteen different art locations to visit and an amazing cross section of Pomona residents displaying artwork. Some of my favorites:

The Nogales High School Art dept. had an entire wing of a basement with easily twenty different artists, extremely talented with the opportunity to meet the artists themselves (mostly Seniors, but a few Juniors here and there.)
A local low rider car club sponsored a display of Chicano culture pieces, complete with a Tecate bar upstairs, tattooing onsite and a live dj.

Flashboxes of steampunk collaborations at Bunny Gunner Studio (photo included in the entry.)
Retro and burlesque artwork, which included a showing by Asia DeVinyl (whom I once vaaaaguely knew back in Seattle.)

All for the price of donation wherever you had a few snacks. I consider myself an art thug - I have no idea of what goes into it or how people can take a blank canvas/piece of wood/piece of metal and turn it into something extraordinary, I just know what I like. And there was a lot I liked and could find appealing as we made our way through the Second Avenue area. Jadine might even be showing her next piece there, so be prepared to hear a lot about it if she does. Next week is the Art Walk at the Los Angeles Brewery, again an event I've never been to. If it's as good as the Pomona Art walk, it's going to be great.

Dead Honkey - Coming Soon at a Theater Near You

2009-04-13T12:25:00.000-07:00

Empathy for Virgil

2009-04-09T10:19:00.000-07:00

This photo on my left has been circulating for sometime on the Internets as an object of ridicule and snide tee-hee-ing. "Oh big superstar! Too bad no one else thinks so!" (To be fair, I think this was probably taken before whatever convention officially started, as you can see by the lack of people on the right hand side by the door.)

Personally, I don't laugh at this photo. I find nothing funny about it, and find a great deal of empathy to be honest. I don't know what it's like as a professional wrestler, but I sure as shit know what it feels like as a musician when the audience just isn't there. Oh sure, we say that "the size of the crowd doesn't matter. We perform just the same no matter what." And fundamentally, that's true. But ladies, I think you can back me up on this one - it's not a question of size, but someone's gotta at least show up.

It can happen for a myriad of reasons - either you're booked on a bad night or maybe there's a competition for the attention of your audience. One night, my last band (Division Six) got booked at the Gig in Hollywood on a Sunday night. Sundays aren't normally good nights, but I thought, "Well it's Hollywood on a holiday weekend. What could be the harm?" Turned out to be the night of the Oscars. Ho ho ho.

Sometimes God fucks with you. One time in Seattle, we were headlining at a local club (which means you play around midnight or so) when it started snowing around 8pm. And as it got later in the evening, the snow came down heavier and heavier. Our friends and fans gave it a good try, but they couldn't deny the unpleasant fact - they needed to bootscoot home before the snow stranded them. Hell, *I* wanted to go home. But we're the band... and remember, the band goes down with the Titanic, folks. Do you know why the band did that by the way? Because no band gives up a headliner position! Ever! We ended up playing to an empty club at midnight, then driving home in the snow. Car got stuck too, because the snowplows wouldn't be out until morning. In those heady days of PVC pants that have no thermal insulation whatsoever, that was a special delight.

Sometimes you're just booked for crap. That happens. Gods Among Men (my grunge band in the early 90's. Shut up, you liked it then too.) had a tidy little following in the coffeehouse circuit and thought we could graduate to bigger venues. Sure. We could do that...for all-age clubs. But our first 21-and-over was played to crickets.

When people ask me what I want as a musician, it's an easy answer for me. I'm no longer in my teens, so I'm not trying to be the big arena-selling ROCK STAAAAAAAAR. I'm not in my 20's either, trying to get "da babes." No man, I just want people at the show when we play. It's not even about the money. If we have a good turn-out even at a free show, I go home happy even if we don't get paid.

I doubt Virgil did in that picture.

Are You Looking for the Next Nirvana?

2009-04-08T00:00:00.000-07:00

I've said this in a couple of different locations, but I feel strongly enough about it to repeat it even here.

If you're a little into music, you've probably heard that today was the fifteenth anniversary of Kurt Cobain's death. Not everybody likes Nirvana, (and many people have some strong opinions about his choice to end his life.) But I've read a few people say that the end of Nirvana felt like the end of Something Important and that they were waiting for the next Nirvana to come around. Someone real, someone unpackaged. Someone meaningful.

Well that’s an easy enough task. No really, it is. Open your local weekly next time it comes out. Flip through the back of the calendar section. Pick a club, one off the beaten path. Not the one you saw the Big Name of the Month at, or where the Big Alternative Station of the Area has their so-called locals only showcase. Go to one that has a tiny little ad, if any ad at all. Pick a band with an interesting name. Go to the show. Say you’re there to see them when the doorguy asks.

If you like them, tell them afterward. Get on their mailing list. Ask if they have a CD. Or a shirt. Buy it. Tell some friends. Bring them the next time the band plays out.

If you don’t like them, no problem. Hang out, see if another band plays. Or go home. Wait until next week. Pick up the weekly and try again.

If you do this frequently enough. eventually you’re going to find some interesting bands. Maybe not the first time. Maybe not the second, but it will happen. And when you do, help them become something special. Because bands really do become better when they think people are coming to their shows. It makes them try harder. It inspires them. Believe me, I'm in a band myself, and when people are there, you bet I try harder. When people know our songs, it encourages me to write more. And I have yet to meet a musician who wasn't like this.

Really. That’s all it is.

Memories of Pomona: Fruits and Nuts

2009-04-02T15:25:00.000-07:00

I met a lot of interesting people while working at the Haven. Interesting in a Chinese curse sort of way. I’m not sure if it was something to do with Pomona itself or what, but we would get more than our fair share of the crazies of the neighborhood. Actually, I’m wrong – it did have to do with Pomona itself.

I had this explained to me by a homeless person one day, while I was taking my break outside of the coffeehouse. I was outside, talking to Galen, the owner of the cross-dressing clothing store next door (That would be Double-Cross, for those of you struggling to remember.) Galen was a very interesting person, might I add – he also raised champion rare orchids.

And as we were talking, a homeless person pushed his shopping cart by us and asked abruptly, “Do you know who Pomona was in Greek Mythology?”
Galen and I looked at one another then shook our heads.
“She was the goddess of fruits and nuts!” And then he continued pushing his shopping cart down Second Avenue.
Galen then looked at me and said, “Well I know which *I* am, but what are *you*?”

Probably the nut, looking back at it. There were also sorts of fun little characters to be had, such as the delusional paranoid who thought I was a paid corporate assassin trying to spike his coffee. (Corporate Assassin. Jesus, is this Shadowrun??!?) But my personal favorite was a local who had gone off his medication and subsequently lived on the streets while hiding from the police. He would sometimes come in wearing a long scarf covering his head so “They” wouldn’t see him, or he’d wear weird greasepaint. Sometimes he’d perform on open-mike night with his guitar, singing very strange, rambling tunes.

One weekday afternoon, my buddy Sam and I were talking as I manned the front alone. (No one else was in the Haven, and that’s important to point out.) He came up, and started telling us a long story where he was explaining his history. As he spoke, he would back away from us a good ten, maybe twenty feet, but never raising the volume of his voice. So it would trail off in the middle of a sentence….and then come back. He continued telling us of a recent dream where he imagined himself floating through the air and clouds, as he was surrounded by black and white photos of the people he had murdered. As he put it, “And it made me feel so good inside. So releaxed.”

Did I mention Sammy and I were *alone* in the friggin’ coffeehouse?

Then he continued, explaining he wanted to see the faces in the photos of who he was supposed to kill in order to obtain this peaceful bliss. But he couldn’t see the faces clearly, and then woke up on the Pomona streets in the afternoon. So he then went to the nearest person to ask them who was in the photos. And that person was naturally a uniformed policeman, who took him to local county. They apparently held him for thirty days and put him on anti-psychotics, but the thirty days came up and they kicked him back onto the streets without the medication.

Did I mention Sammy and I were *alone* in the friggin’ coffeehouse?

So now he was feeling much better and far more clear-headed, as he was trying to determine what he should do next about his life. In the middle of this, he then stopped talking and looked at Sammy and I. Apparently we had a funny look on our faces when he asked (in genuine earnest),

“Did I say something wrong?”

Sammy and I then repeatedly assured him he had not. Everything was jusssssst fine. Yes sir. And thank you, Goddess Pomona, for protecting us another day from your children.

Dead Honkey: The Zen of Sleep

2009-04-01T10:14:00.001-07:00

The Morning After - 3/27 at Black Watch Pub

2009-03-29T22:56:00.000-07:00

Playing in the Inland Empire is a strange blast from the past for me, everytime we're out there. Some of my first shows were in the Pomona/Upland/Claremont area, and I still know a heck of a lot of people out there that are willing to come out and see this new Action 45 business. What I find even more interesting is how few of them know each other directly, but know each other through intermediates outside of myself.

"Oh hey! This is [So-and-so], they were in the band that formed out of my old band after I left Los Angeles. This is [so-and-so], you met them from [another so-and-so] who you knew at [this place.]"

Then you get that nod of "Oh. Okay, No I don't remember them whatsoever, but I'm going to play along." But that's okay. I like people to meet each other anyway, on the off-off-chance they may meet again and strike up an acquaintance. I think it's good for social circles to continue their introductions in real time as opposed to naughty social networking business I hear the kids are about these days. Ahem. A few folks couldn't make it, due to the distance, which is fair. But we're continuing to expand our region with shows in the IE, Orange County, San Fernando, and even Valencia. Why not more shows in Los Angeles? We would if we could, darling. We would if we could.

The Olympians were good, and SLAB was excellent (I was unaware their guitarist was in Mad Parade as well.) We even saw old familiar faces from the Failures, Godzilla and a couple of other bands. (And bad-ass drummer Nathan S. from my old band, Division Six, even made it down.) Musically, we managed to add "A Guilty Mind" back into the set, which is always a treat. Personally I tried to keep it a little more mellow in the moving around department, knowing I would be dancing at Ev's wedding the next day. Well, I tried. I certainly didn't belly-flop onto the floor this time, how about that. It was the kickstart to a very long but very satisfying weekend and as I tired as I am, I am still thrilled with some of the accomplishments that have occurred (i.e. Ev and Bill's wedding, a good show, and I even got the computer fixed.) Three cheers and a tiger for me. Now if I could only walk without a limp at work tomorrow, that would be dandy.

The evening's set list:

Memories of the Toughskins: The Music

2009-03-26T13:54:00.000-07:00

(This is part of a series of memories regarding one of my favorite local bands in the early 90's in Claremont, CA - the Toughskins. I really hold them dear and wanted to memorialize them as the visionaries they were.)

Part II: Memories of the Toughskins – The Music

Talking about the Toughskins music is hard to do for me, it’s like explaining to how a painting “looked”, without ever showing them the actual piece. Even the recordings don’t do it justice, not even the one and only videotaped performance which I have in my position to this day.

I guess you have to start with the music, and if you’re going to talk about the music, you need to talk about the instruments (or lack thereof.) As I briefly mentioned, the Toughskins didn’t utilize a normal drum kit. Then again, Suzanne wasn’t a normal drummer, either. I prefer to call her a percussionist, not unlike Sheila E. The percussion kit was several slabs of wood that held parts for her instrument pieces – a hubcap I think was utilized, and we gave them an old cymbal to use as well. A chain on top of a large plastic bucket was the snare, with multiple other pieces that made no organizational sense except to Suzanne herself, and you know what, that’s all that matter. I believe they built it in their garage, I’m not sure. The kit was transported from show to show in a large white trashcan marked “SALAD MATERIALS.” I assume it was from Dave’s days of working in a kitchen, but ultimately I don’t really want to know. Dave played guitar through a very small amp, almost a practice amp. He also utilized a few effect boxes and of course, the Tijuana acoustic guitar for special, campfire moments. Dan played bass through a standard bass amp. Oh and he had the Whisk.

The greatest challenge and hindrance was the sound mix. A good room would balance out these three pieces into a warm combination. Too large a room, and it sounded tinny or hollow. It was also hard to mike something like Suzanne’s percussion unit, and I don’t remember anyone effectively doing so.

Of the many things that mesmerized us, the Toughskins managed to put out a full-length album, Tenderloin. This was extremely impressive at the time – our band certainly hadn’t managed to gets it shit together for such a milestone. I will confess, I was not as enamored of the album upon its initial release as I was of the live shows. I liken it to something akin to the comparison between hearing the Grateful Dead and seeing the Grateful Dead. (Or so the hippies tell me.) However, fifteen years later I have found a more subtle appreciation for the album that I didn’t initially have, because I am now able to hear it on its own terms. And it’s a different sort of band, more upbeat than I had initially remember. More light-hearted, and that’s a good thing.

Their initial demo wasn’t so light-hearted, however. I believe it was named “Baile del Muerte” and meant it. Recorded on a homegrown four-track recorder, it included both the title track and my favorite, “Skinned Alive.” I have told Suzanne that I compared their music to Bauhaus, it was probably because of this first album. Jesus, it had an edge to it. Strangely enough, I have always been a fan of the unintended extra track from the Tenderloin album, “Drop!” I can’t explain why, but something about it reminds me of that initial demo tape I heard.

Lyrically speaking, you really had no idea where the Toughskins would take you. They sang about everything and anything, all with what I now would call a “menacing whimsy.” I have been told a few pieces of the meaning behind their work, and have my own recollections to go with. Thus, I share them accordingly:

Dark Grey Suit – This is one of those songs that became a crowd pleaser, due to its change in intensity and speed. Dave sang this one, so the bass is more prevalent. Great opening bass line, too – a little off-kilter but definitely recognizable. Zanne once said she came across Dave just writing lyrics one day, and when asked said, “Oh I’m writing a song called “Dark Grey Suit.” Just like that, he had the title and wrote it in one sitting. Bang. I have been told (or I think I was told) the song was about the old discount suit emporium here in Los Angeles, C&R.

Chinese Umbrella Tunnel – For a long time, the Toughskins had a Chinese umbrella hanging from the ceiling, and someone, I know not who (and will not name for their own privacy) had been on an acid trip at their house and said they felt they were falling into the Umbrella like it was a tunnel.

Toughskins Go! – The anthem. Again, a great tune, because it was instantly accessible to an audience with participatory clap. Yes, it was about the children’s pants, and Dan would have a pair hanging from his mike stand like a proud banner of loyalty.

Art – I was always amazed at this tune, because it was one of the cleverest lyrical stylings Dan had written. It was a commentary about the concept of “art” itself, referencing cavemen, silent screen comedians and ugly children.

Gods of Wood – This is one of my favorite tunes solely on its own musical merits. The main verse hook was driving rhythm with a great descending piece after its chorus. I could hear them do this all day long, I loved it that much.

I managed to upload a few of the tunes onto Facebook and I’m now waiting for Facebook to finish approving them and all the other things Facebook does for uploaded content. God knows what. Feel free to share your own favorite song anecdotes as we wait. But really, nothing you hear in the music is compared to the live performance. And that… warrants a separate section.

(Next: Part III – The Performance)

The Twenty-Five That Mattered, Part V

2009-03-25T15:32:00.000-07:00

David Bowie - Let's Dance

It could potentially be controversial to select this album over “The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars”, and certainly from a musical standpoint, Ziggy may be a better album. However, I think this album was a little more influential on me, and certain more a milestone that people give credit. This album solidified David Bowie’s reputation as the Coolest Person on Earth. Really, this is it. If you need further proof, during Ben Stiller’s movie Zoolander when the two models decide to have a “walk-off” and needed a judge, David Bowie stepped out of nowhere and said “Maybe I can help.” And the refrain in the background? The main riff from “Let’s Dance”, just once with a little reverb. And that’s all you needed, friends and neighbors. This is the Coolest Person on Earth.

I remember my dad hating David Bowie when this album came out, mostly because my dad remembered all those bisexual shenanigans of the 70’s and that happened well before my years. All I saw was this cool guy wearing a sharp suit, moving across the stage singing a jazzy alternative rock style, with tight blues guitar riffs making it even better. (When I found out about the past, ultimately I thought it was even cooler.)

Some would say this was a sell-out album on his part, because it was 180 degrees away from the glam-rock androgyny and European sounds of the Eno years (not to mention the full embrace of MTV and all its darkened works.) Psh, I say. Bowie was one of the people who made MTV useful and clever. And this album is actually very, very good, I think – “Let’s Dance” is definitely in the running for Most Seductive Songs Ever, along with “China Girl” which helped get Iggy Pop clean through the song rights. The use of Stevie Ray Vaughn definitely help propel the album (and by proxy, SRV) into a cool, jazz-esque spotlight with a sound that makes you dim the lights and smoke a clove. “Cat People” is a personal favorite, which I still think makes a perfect soundtrack when driving at night.

This album proved David Bowie could do it all, and that if he really wanted to be a mainstream pop star, he could perform the magic trick with a drop of his hat. All under the Serious Moonlight. Looking back, I realize this also changed how I felt about frontmen, too. No longer did you have to be David Lee Roth, the over-the-top showman of the screaming bomber party (although that has its merits, too.) After this, I realized you could be more. And as I get older, I realize I'd rather age like David Bowie. A man who paints when he feels like it, married a model because he could, and can do anything he feels the music needs. And he's still got his hair.

Dead Honkey - Merit Badgering

2009-03-25T12:06:00.000-07:00

Dead Honkey: The Reason for the Season

2009-03-25T09:24:00.001-07:00

Memories of the Toughskins – The Introduction

2009-03-24T23:31:00.001-07:00

The Toughskins are one of the most influential bands that I have ever heard, seen or known. At the time, many people didn’t “get” the Toughskins, probably more so now that time has washed away the spontaneity of the moment. I so don’t care. They taught me a lot both as musicians and as people, and cherish every moment I spent in their presence. They didn’t consider themselves musicians, per se. Instead, they considered it “performance art”, which is probably accurate. But it’s not. Sort of. It’s hard to explain, but I’m going to try in detail.

I remember their first appearance very clearly – we had been booked with them and another band at a Munchies Café show in Pomona. (The other band’s name has been forgotten with time.) They had placed a flyer in the Munchies window with tumbleweeds and cactus as decoration, and it was very confusing. Were they a country and western band, we wondered. No clue. But we decided we would arrive a little early and check this band out.

It may have been their first show, I really don’t know. But I remember walking into the backroom of the Café, and the place was deserted except for them. But it didn’t matter, they were playing their hearts out, and it probably gave me an unfettered view to focus on the band and their music. They were singing something about suits. Men’s suits, to be particular. It sounded like Bauhaus, performed by the Talking Heads on a handmade drum kit of wood and kitchen pots. It was deconstructed, and the lyrics were about suits. Not as a joke, it was simply…about suits. I was absolutely confused. Then they sang another tune. And it didn’t make any more sense to me. It took about three songs until I exclaimed something I didn’t remember saying at the time, but their bassist Dan clearly heard (and ribbed me about later.) I exclaimed to Eric, “Oh my GOD! These guys are serious!”

The show continued, as their guitarist pulled out a cheapy Tijuana guitar and the bassist pulled out a giant whisk. Yeah, a WHISK. The kind you’d cook a giant egg omelet with. And then as the bassist started tapping the whisk against the palm of his hand with the biggest smile, their guitarist started singing a cowboy hillbilly tune that included yodeling. “Ah-yee-ah-yeeee, heeeee-ee-yeeeee…..” Then they looked at one another, nodded, and then walked off the stage.

They walked straight to us. And as they stood in front of us, they kept singing. “Ah-yee-ah-yeeee, heeeee-ee-yeeeee…..” Then they nodded, and walked over to another person. “Ah-yee-ah-yeeee, heeeee-ee-yeeeee…..” Then they walked over to the front of the café. Well, we naturally had to follow, we didn’t know what they were going to do! “Ah-yee-ah-yeeee, heeeee-ee-yeeeee…..” Then they walked back to the stage (where their percussionist was waiting patiently with a smile), and then finished the song.

We were hooked. Immediately as a band, we were mesmerized by what we had seen. It was mind-blowing in every sense of the word, and it was the initial introduction. We managed to become friends with them and over a period of several years, we managed to share many beautiful moments with them and they inspired many beautiful moments within us. That’s how it started.

Next Chapter: The Music

The Day After (After) - 3/20 at Tropics

2009-03-22T10:16:00.000-07:00

As a total aside, I really enjoyed making this flyer you see on the left. I did not post it in my office however, I thought it was a little extreme for the workplace. However, Mig liked it enough to where it was the flyer posted at the club for the show, and that's a nice little approval.

There's something magical about punk rock clubs and freshly made Mexican food, a weird combination that seemingly makes no sense until it's 1am, you've had a dozen beers and listened to three hours of bands. You start to feel a pang of hunger, wandering what the hell you're going to do about it - are you going to drive to the local Mickey D's? Where is the local Mickey D's? Oh God, do we have to go to get hassled at Denny's again? Can't the food just come to us?

And then it does. Baby Jesus answers your prayers by delivering freshly-prepared tacos from a push cart. It's one of those things that made New York so lovely, the late night street dog or kabob that was waiting at every corner in Manhattan. In Los Angeles, they actually come into the club. One the greatest senses of accomplishment I feel whenever we play at the Doll Hut in Anaheim is when the Tamale Guy arrives. Ohhh, we've stayed long enough for the Tamale Guy! Awesome! Let's get tamales! You haven't really been at the Doll Hut, I think, until you've had tamales in the back patio with a beer in hand while the bands rage on.

But Tropics goes one better - they have an open faced taco truck right in front of the club, with picnic tables and everything for your eating enjoyment. I say open faced, because it's not one of those enclosed taco trucks, but rather an open cooking area on a flatbed that allows you to watch him cook up your carne asada taco while you wait. That's good stuff, friends and neighbors, I don't care who you are. And the taco truck was the first thing we saw as we pulled up for the show. That felt like good karma already. We needed the good karma, we were playing late that night, and I had been up early that day dealing with stuff. It had been a long week for personal reasons due to family illness. Not worth going into, but by Friday I felt mentally and physically drained. Chris being the stud of legend graciously drove for the show.

When we made it inside, Superkill had just begun their set. Initially, Bondage Fairies had been scheduled to do the show but their drummer wasn't available (or maybe it was their guitarist), Superkill filled in. It's an easy fill - Nitro and John are the two main forces of both groups, although Superkill plays more covers, I've been told. Nitro also does OC Roller Derby and John was (and maybe is still, I'm not sure) playing guitar with the Adolescents. Superkill had played at the Malone's show where Inazuma's guitarist had been whacked with the beer bottle, and Nitro was the first person up there to make sure he was alright (not to mention she was the first person ready to kick someone's ass for throwing it.) And once again... they've had Vinny Malachi as a guitarist. Jesus, does this guy ever SLEEP??!?

After Superkill were On Switch and the Blob, both practitioners of old school, hardcore OC punk. I only managed to get a photo of On Switch, unfortunately. We were still re-grouping and setting up our gear while the Blog played. All three bands were gracious enough to stick around for our show, which is mighty cool of them all. When you're playing at midnight, unless you're a major, major act, you're lucking when people are hanging around to play. So the fact they hung out was very gracious. But that's the OC, as I've described before - a tightknit group of musicians who know and play with one another exclusively. I wish I could go out to more OC shows, and sometimes we have to leave a little early when we do play out there because of the drive. But I must admit, I really do like the OC's camraderie. Once you start knowing people, it's a lot of fun to play out there.

Now if you've seen us onstage, you know I get a little...animated. That's a polite way to describe "spaz." I had hoped I would tone it down a bit on Friday by going on a run earlier in the day. My thinking was, if I get the energy out earlier, I can concentrate on the music while I'm actually onstage. Yeah, that works. Sure. The reality of it is, I end up spending the next morning feeling like I ran a double marathon. Smart move, kiddo. Hard to believe I'm allowed to operate heavy machinery. I also foolishly wanted to add "Riot Tonight" to the set, which is the hardest song for me in terms of amount of lyrics, vocal delivery and well... endurance. You may notice I don't jump around a lot for that song, it's because I don't want to lose my place or fall down due to hyperventilating. I have no one to blame but myself.

...But that's what prompted the extra day required to post this, fair gentles. Between getting home at three, the soreness and the emotional baggage of the week, I needed a full quiet day to recoup. Maybe that's not punk rock of me, maybe that's the sign of getting older (which is 100% true), but I took a day for me, and I'm sure you found your internet jollies elsewhere, looking at pictures of Shauna Sand's boobies in a shoe store or something. So get over it, ya twerps.

Hey, here was the set list for the night:

Once Again, Let's Talk About Your Taxes

2009-03-19T14:37:00.000-07:00

I say this every year. Most of the time, it falls on deaf ear. But usually ONE or TWO people will hear me, it sinks in and then they make the decision to improve their standing. So without further ado...

I'm fairly certain its fresh in your mind right now, given how close we are to Tax Day. I imagine you didn't enjoy the experience, and many of you are probably still working on them with the hopes of mailing it off by April 15th or even filing an extension. I confess... I was once like you. Yes indeedy. I thought it frivolous to spend the extra time or money on my taxes, thinking a 1040EZ form was all I need. I also continually wondered why I had to pay out every year.

It didn't hit me until I had what I call a Moment of Financial Clarity. Specifically, I found myself with a $6000 tax debt which I couldn't believe. Immediately, I realized I was doing something wrong and had to take immediate steps. One of my associates (who reads this blog) also had a similar wake-up call this year (and they can out themselves if they so choose.)

Since this is probably fresh in your mind as we speak, let me hone in on a few things for you to prepare for next year.

Don't. Do. Your Own. Taxes. I cannot believe how many people make this mistake, and yes, flat out it is a mistake. Unless you're under the age of 20, there's no reason you should be doing your own taxes with an EZ form. I don't care if you don't own a house. I don't care if you don't save your receipts. I don't care WHAT you think... GO TO A FUCKING TAX PERSON. Even if it's H&R Block, which is the McDonald's of tax preparation, speak with a professional about your taxes. My $6,000 debt was reduced to $1000 with a twenty minute visit to H&R Block. A tax rep knows many of the tax advantages you can potentially take to reduce your overall tax debt and potentially have returned. A fully-accredited tax rep (even H&R Block) will also provide you assurance that if you are ever audited, they will accompany you. That kind of insurance is PRICELESS in the time of need. Seriously, if you walk away with ONE THING, GO TO A PROFESSIONAL NEXT TIME. The better your tax guy, the better your return.

Seriously. I get nothing from this. I say this because I don't want you to be in debt because of your taxes. Go to a professional. Save your receipts. Plan for next year. It will make the difference.

If Only This Were Real...

2009-03-19T13:35:00.000-07:00

Gobstopper Trailer - watch more funny videos

Admit it. Taken on its own merits, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory is a pretty scary movie. I remember reading a TV Schedule listing in the Stranger describing the movie as "A sociopathic candymaker lures five children into his industrial factory to slowly torture them one by one." Sounds about right to me. Too bad this is only a trailer, I'd go see this.

Who the Hell are Psychostar??!?

2009-03-19T00:48:00.000-07:00

I can't remember the name of the band, they shared the bill with us at one point at a local club. All female line-up, little mini-skirts with tall boots. And their music was... cute. I think. Maybe. Okay, I'm probably being nice. They were unremarkable and played upon the fact the were "girls" playing "rock" to have any sort of reaction with the crowd. Sort of. And unfortunately, that sometimes works. But I remember someone in the A45 entourage asking me, "What do you think of these guys?" My response, (although not very nice, I grant you) was pretty to the point and without hesitation: "Psychostar would curb-stomp these idiots."

Let me tell you, I really like playing with Psychostar. When we have a show with Psychostar, I confess I promote the show a little extra because I really enjoy seeing them play everytime. Psychostar was formed out of a couple of different projects - The Blare Bitch Project, Betty Blowtorch, several others as well and they got some serious chops. I am particularly in awe of their guitarist Blaire, who's Ace Frehley/Joe Perry style is so natural, so perfect in its phrasing of guitar lead melody that I find myself absolutely absorbed when she's playing a lead. And it really is just a piece of the puzzle - Punky's a great guitarist as well, Sharon's bass is faboo (and she's a good guitarist as well) and Lanie's drumming is stellar (although her attitude frankly sucks. Just kidding, don't bite me.)

One of my personal pet peeves of 90's music is the Lilith Fair style of music -i.e. "Boys are bad, hold me." Jewel, Sarah McLachlan, Alanis Morisette, Tori Amos (although to be fair, Tori goes a different world altogether with that crazy ex-girlfriend vibe), they really leave a bad taste in my mouth because yeah, they're talented I suppose, but it's....emasculated. Yeah, yeah. I know, they're women. but I'm just not into that stuff, man. I like my women in rock to be like the Runaways and Joan Jett and X-Ray Spex and all that kind of hard-edged, ground down to the metal kind of thing. Psychostar don't play the gender card, and I'm embarassed to even mention that, it's so not their thing and I love them for it. They write songs about nicotine and beer and driving fast and... Here, just read these lyrics and you'll understand:

"Nobody likes me when I'm sober,
I might as well just stay fucked up,
Just check my pulse and roll me over,
When I pass out, I've had enough."

That... is great. And I'm not just saying that because they occasionally tape our rehearsal room door shut while we're in it. (Open note, Ms. Punkerton and Fire: There SHALL be payback.) I really, really like these guys and you should check them out, whether we're playing on the bill or not. You can hear them at their MySpace website, or here, just check this live video when they were at the Doll Hut.

Dead Honkey: Conspiracy of Duncecaps

2009-03-18T12:13:00.000-07:00

Memories of Pomona: The Haven

2009-03-16T12:58:00.001-07:00

Everytime I go to Pomona, and yeah, I go to Pomona more often than you think, I always take the Garey exit to Second Avenue. Then I turn right and look for a coffeehouse that’s never there. I know it’s not there. But I keep hoping one of the days, it will be back. The Haven. Someday, I hope. Someday.

In those heady early days of 1991, Starbucks was little more than a gleam in Seattle’s eye. Coffee came in two flavors – caffeinated and non. And nobody knew what a coffeehouse was. But that all changed with the Haven, probably one of the greatest unsung establishments of Pomona during the 1990’s. I say that without aggrandizing, because the Haven was pretty much the lynchpin of the Second Avenue Arts Colony during that time, and the Arts Colony as a whole was an example that Pomona could be more than gang territory and strip clubs.

Its owners, Ken Bencomo and Ed Tessier, were really ahead of their times for the sleepy little Inland Empire. Many placed opens up in the IE that mimicked the coffeehouse stylings of the Haven – artwork, open mic nights, live music and an all-ages hang-out that wasn’t a 7-11. But I legitimately can’t remember any before the Haven opened. (They may have, I just don’t remember.) Like I said, back then there wasn’t a Starbucks chain or a Coffee Bean. They just didn’t exist. So a restaurant that focused on selling coffee seemed a little weird to people.

But it was more than that, ultimately. It became the cornerstone of a lot of things, and certainly became one of the greater influences in my life. I ended up working there for a few years, both in the morning and evening shifts - It was my first, real job (not just temporary work.) This is where Gods Among Men had some of its best shows, with Pinhead and the Mighty Mighty Toughskins. Beck played a secret show here. It just kind of happened. (This was well before the Glasshouse came into the area.) I really learned a lot working there, and feel a lot of affection to the people I met there. For a long time, the Haven was simply home. I’m not really doing it justice in my description, but I got a lot Haven stories so it’s important to tell you what it is so you get the gist of why so many things seemed to happen there.

Of course, the Pomona PD despised it, thinking it to be for the community and shut us down for any infraction they could. I’m not sure why it closed, I had moved away to the world of Portland/Vancouver by then. Again, it was ahead of its time. Maybe Ken just got tired of the uphill fight. I doubt it was appreciated enough when it was there. You notice how you love things more when they’re gone? But I’m glad it was there when it was there. Thank God.

Chickenjoy and Yumburgers

2009-03-14T18:44:00.002-07:00

Living in Los Angeles is sometimes like working in the business end of a movie studio lot - sure, you're surrounded by "the business", and sometimes you see celebrities on their way to whatever it is celebrities do but most of the time it's just background noise for your day-to-day grind.

What makes it most challenging is the occasional mindbend you get from time to time, like when a normal building or street is turned into something weird for a movie or tv shoot. It happens frequently enough to where you just take it for granted that if you see something that doesn't make sense, you chalk it up to someone shooting a movie and then go about your business. The reason you only hear about aliens landing in Bra-Strap, Iowa, is because they nothing else to do - in Los Angeles, it's chalked up as a movie and in New York, they scowl and say "Fucking tourists."

So when the Jollibee first appeared on Beverly Avenue, I really thought it was for a movie. It didn't see humanly possible - Yumburger??! Chickenjoy??!? And the colors seemed even more foreign, with a great big animated bee character labelling everything.

Turns out it was foreign - Fillipino, to be precise. Jollibee is one of the largest international fast-food places in the world with 1,490 outlets in the Phillipines and almost 300 internationally. And two of them are in Los Angeles. And Yumburgers and Chickenjoy are indeed two of their entrees, along with sweet-style spaghetti, bangus and palobok and spring rolls. Their desserts include Ube Keso, which consists of shaved ice, cream and shredded cheese. I kid you not.

However...they do have a secret weapon - the Aloha Burger. Oh yes, my friends. Double cheeseburger with pineapple. Yes, that's right. We have a Big Kahuna Burger stand-in right here in Los Angeles. I must confess, I have yet to try any of these things and I am told they are about as true Filippino food as Taco Bell is really Mexican. But all the same, I think I might give this a whirl.

If only the bee didn't seem so creepy....

Dead Honkey: Lady Chatterley's Cover

2009-03-13T16:33:00.000-07:00

The Twenty-Five That Mattered - Part IV

2009-03-13T16:24:00.000-07:00

Def Leppard - Hysteria

This album is on the list not because its particularly noteworthy unto itself. Although to be fair, it is a pretty strong album on its own accord – out of the twelve tracks on the record, seven of them were released as fairly strong charting singles in both the US and the UK. And if you’re a fan of the band, you know this album was the comeback album of sorts having been the first album after drummer Rick Allen lost an arm in a motor accident. That’s pretty impressive a feat no matter who you are, come to think of it. And they toured extremely successfully with it – fifteen months worldwide. But it’s part of my Top 25 That Mattered list for one specific reason – it was my first compact disc.

When CD’s first hit the market, there weren’t a whole lot of them to be found. I remember receiving my first CD player for my birthday, as well as the option of purchasing a CD at the local Tower Records. They had cleared a section of the Classical area to showcase the new musical format, and there were probably about forty different artists available on CD at the time. They were expensive, about $15 to $17 bucks, although they assured us “prices would be going down, once the format became more accepted.” Har de har har to that little notion.

So there weren’t that many choices – forty artists to cover just about every genre. Luckily, the “Hysteria” album had just come out, so it was a pretty safe bet that something on the album would be interesting.

Well the album’s success just kept on going. And going, going, going. So for a seventeen dollar purchased, it proved a pretty decent return on investment. Since then, I’ve owned CD’s that I think I played precisely one, found to be dogshit, and then either sold them used or used them to prop up a coffee table. But Hysteria definitely proved to have legs. There is of course a downside to the album – producer Mutt Lange would later utilize his engineering and producing skills to market his wife, Shania Twain. And for that, we do not forgive.

Dead Honkey: Neil Patrick Harris Still Might Star in it...

2009-03-12T17:26:00.000-07:00

Stupid Immaculate

2009-03-12T17:20:00.001-07:00

Televised “mind-readers” have a neat little trick that make them seem far more impressive than live. It’s pretty simple – if you ask about an audience of fifty people if they have a loved one that’s ill, dying or getting married, your chances are startingly good someone is just due to the probability involved. But they also throw a lot of stuff into the wind that nobody catches, and chances are good the television will simply edit the non-answered bait out of the program. So when you watch the show at home, you just see the success rate. Thus, they seem brilliant as opposed to a randomized guessing game.

And the Doors are like this, I’ve determined. You’re lucky the DJ is there, sweetcheeks. Because unfiltered, there’s a lot of a pretentious arthouse crap in them there albums. Don’t get uppity if you think you’re a fan – I also think there’s some extremely powerful, moving artistic pieces in the Doors repertoire. “The End” is truly a brilliant tune, and there’s many songs like that. “Break on Through”, “Crystal Ship”, there are dozens of them. And a thousand monkeys write Shakespearean plays from time to time, I’m told.

I remembered this the other day while listening to a local radio station doing a Vinyl Side Wednesday (or something like that), where they played a full side of rock albums for the whole day. Eventually they played the first Doors album, and as I drove I thought, “Hey, I remember this song.” And kept listening, enjoying the rhythm of Ray Manzarek and John Densmore chirping through a little ditty. Then the next one played. Ohhhh, that next one. Morrison spouting off incoherent attempts of poetry over musical jazz odyssey wanking. Then it got worse.

To be honest I was taking back, because I thought I *liked* the Doors. That’s when I remembered I only owned one Doors album – the compilation. (Years ago, I also had a copy of L.A. Woman, but that was back in my high school hippy-dippy days.) See, the Doors are one of those bands that really do benefit from selective filtering, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. After all, people do it all the time with their favorite songs and the Doors aren’t any different. But some styles of artistic expression really lend themselves to pretentiousness if they go off kilter. Non-linear poetry is one of them. So is jazz. Throw them together and you have a blood clot waiting to happen.

They can’t all be winners. Don’t expect them to be. I know I’ve written some bad tunes myself, and it’s bound to happen. The obvious problem being that I have a longer shelf life than Morrison, he’s dead and I’m not. And that’s not to say Morrison and the boys haven’t written better material than I have. They most certainly have. When they were good, they were stellar. When they weren’t, they stunk on ice. So there’s nothing wrong with compilations really, as long as you knew they’re skewing the material one way or another.

And now let me tell you about your mother’s heart condition….

Dead Honkey Update

2009-03-11T17:22:00.000-07:00

Not every Dead Honkey strip initially made it to Blogspot. As a matter of fact, some of them have been lost forever due to my own foolishness. That and court order. But in order to be thorough and to keep them in one location, I will be uploading some of the archived strips that never got published here. Many of you have seen them already in other locations. Don't worry, they'll be much funnier the second time around. Jokes are funnier when you repeat them, Consuelo.

Change in Commenting Format

2009-03-11T11:00:00.000-07:00

I changed some settings, you no longer have to register with the blog to make comments - your Google account should be fine. If you have problems commenting, feel free to email me - deuce45. That's a gmail account.

The Twenty-Five That Mattered - Part III

2009-03-11T08:50:00.000-07:00

Dead Kennedys – Give Me Convenience or Give Me Death

When I first joined Action 45, I had about a month before our first show to learn the tunes. It was a tall order, but I knew I had to do it. Not just to demonstrate my own capabilities to a new band, but the show itself I *had* to be a part of – we would be opening for a band called “Funland”. And Funland…was really the Dead Kennedys.

At least what was left of them, anyway.

Now like I said, I was a big fan of Jimi Hendrix in high school. But I’ll be flat out honest, his guitar style was beyond my understanding – he pulled out guitar chords from thin air, his guitar was strung upside down and the played backwards. Some songs were one long solo. That’s kind of what I understood as a guitar player, that no matter how good I got, I would never be at that level (and to be honest, I can’t think of a lot of guitarist who’ve come close to that level. Maaaaybe Steve Vai. But he’s insane.) But there was a level I knew I could reach – East Bay Ray of the Dead Kennedys.

I suspect it was my senior year when my buddy Steve loaned me his copy to tape, and it was a revelation. Before DK, I had never heard a politically-charged band before - most of it was good-time hair-metal bands or hippy-dippy 60’s stuff that protested a war long over. But DK had the value of being “tangible”. I knew who Jerry Brown and what he meant to California, I understood the gag about the Knack being corporate-packaged music, and more importantly and I knew about big dumb jocks with big dumb trucks that got their jollies off harassing people walking down the street by showering them with water. Jello Biafra’s voice and lyrics was the inner monologue of the smart-ass kid, saying everything we couldn’t about everything and anything. All the while, East Bay Ray and D.H. Peligro kept up with their tight, syncopated rhythms over Klaus Flouride’s drumming. The speed of that rhythm was incredible to me, and tangible. I knew I could play that style if I tried, I just needed to learn it.

They say when the Ramones toured, a dozen bands would pop up in the city played by people who were inspired by what they saw. “If they could do it, I could do it” was the marching orders. East Bay Ray inspired me to do it and play more than just power chords about having “Nothing but a good time.” If you notice my guitar playing in what little recordings there are, you’ll notice I have a lot of reverb on my guitar. That’s because of East Bay Ray. (You can even hear it on “Let’s Play Dead”, the Gods Among Men “slow single”.) DK wasn’t stupid – they forced you to listen to the words, and particularly the message at work.

“Give Me Convenience…” is the penultimate DK album in my opinion: not only does it have the best known DK songs, “Holiday in Cambodia” “California Uber Alles” and of course “Too Drunk to Fuck”, but it’s also got the best overall flow from one tune to another, I think. And of course, the cover from Winston Smith, who I think could be considered the fifth member of Dead Kennedys. His artwork was as powerful a statement as the music, and it’s hard to think of one without the other.

Unfortunately, DK has suffered from some average band problems – infighting, line-up changes and fights about royalties and song rights. To be honest, it’s a disappointment whenever I hear about it. But when I hear that descending bassline that starts “Holiday in Cambodia”, it still makes my hair stand up on the back of my neck.

Who the hell is Vinny Malachi??!?

2009-03-09T12:13:00.000-07:00

“Ya wanna know my favorite guitar chord? Aaaaaaaaayyyyyyy…..”
- Vinny Malachi

Vinny Malachi is a downright bastard. Scum of the Earth, shameless huckster and encourages the worst sort of behavior in the OC music scene. I’m sure he has bad points too, but I don’t know them. If you go to punk rock shows in Orange County, it won’t take you to run into my man Vinny. Everybody seems to know Vinny, maybe it's because of his connection to Sylvia's Bail Bonds. But Vinny has also played with or is currently playing with over half of the bands in town:
The Malachi Brothers
Vicky and the Vengents
Dick Politic
The Yeastie Boys
Codename Hardhat
Superkill
The Go-Go Fuck Yourselves

...and has played with even more, including Action 45 at one point. He’s one of the hosts of Flashrock.com - You can see him hosting our appearance on the webcast, which is why we’re busting his balls a bit during the interview. He works with Sylvia’s Bail Bonds, Radio Free Bakersfield, Stone Groove Productions, Professional Carpet Services and I’m convinced he’s one of the Jonas Brothers and doesn’t want to admit it. Does this man ever fucking sleep?

He’s also one of the best-natured dudes you’ll meet and takes very little seriously (although he's a seriously great musician.) The first show I saw him in (with Dick Politic), he soloed at one point using a Playboy centerfold for a pick. Not the girl, but from the magazine. Don’t get me wrong, he’s probably try to use the girl if he could. At our show at Malone’s, Vinny kept trying to start a crumpled newspaper with us as we played. Obviously he’s a fan of the Yankees, because he throws like one. (I rarely got hit.)

All kidding aside, I got nothing but respect for Vinny and hope you get a chance to meet him someday. Any guy that covers his bases by getting you trouble AND works for a bail bond company is a-okay in my book. Buy him a beer if you run into him, just don't let him meet your daughter.

The Twenty-Five That Mattered, Part II

2009-03-08T20:21:00.000-07:00

Van Halen – 1984

Although I think this is a kick-ass album, and was my first exposure to a band that I dug through high school and beyond (and yes, the last album with David Lee Roth), this album has an additional reason for being on the list of albums that matter, primarily because of the lesson learned involving it: There’s a lot of power in the rock t-shirt you wear. I was unaware of this until junior high school until I had purchased the 1984 t-shirt from the Casa De Candles at the local mall. I had owned the album, and liked it a lot, and decided the get the shirt to go with it – it was my first “Rock t-shirt” and was quite proud of it.

It took about a week before I had the courage to wear it to school, I was intimidated that someone would laugh at my shirt or make fun it, but I really liked Van Halen and wanted to show that admiration. It didn’t really have any effect for my first two classes, but my third class (Concert Band), was when the trouble started. Our teacher was a former military man and taught both the junior and senior high school bands, including the marching band where he enjoyed directing the students in military precision of line and movement. In junior high, I was a band geek (Right, right. No surprise.) and sat first chair, first section for the brass section. At least until that day. The day I wore the 1984 t-shirt to class, the band teacher definitely noticed.

He stood quietly during a break during songs, a tight-lipped grimace on his face. He stared at me silently, or particularly the 1984 t-shirt, until he finally requested me move down to third chair. You might suggest that it may have been because I wasn’t playing well, and that’s a fair suggestion. However, he didn’t remove me from the section, each section was playing the same arrangement. So he didn't really change anything except the pecking order. Instead, I think this military prick considered the first chair was intended to be the “leaders of that musical section”. And thus, with a Van Halen 1984 t-shirt, I was no longer capable of leading.

P.E. had another little surprise – a group of assholes cornered me while we were waiting in line, who sneered at my shirt and challenged me if I actually knew any Van Halen albums. Luckily I did, and name a few of them off. Every time I named one, they challenged me to name another. And then another. Eventually, they walked off, placated but not happy. Again, nothing prompted this, just the 1984 t-shirt.

So rock shirts have power. People will judge you based on the rock shirt you wear, I quickly learned. It sets you apart from others, and immediately forms an opinion in their minds of your capabilities. As for the military band teacher prick, he didn’t last much longer by the way, the following year was his last year after he quit in a huff. He was nonplussed that people no longer approved of his rigid style of instruction and wanted more “fun stuff” in the marching band performances. Now wouldn’t “Hot For Teacher” have been a great tune for that?

Finance is a Gun. Politics is knowing when to pull the trigger.

2009-03-06T23:09:00.000-08:00

Jadine and I saw Watchmen tonight, and I am still formulating my opinion about the movie so I'll hold off on blogging about it. But one thing really stuck out in my mind during the movie concerned the premise of the overall film, specifically its timeline.

Director Zack Snyder wisely kept the storyline set in its original time period of the 1980's, because an important overall plotpoint concerns the brinksmanship being played by the US and the USSR at the time. And it involves everything - Vietnam, Afganistan and the charming little game of "Mutually Assured Destruction." And being 37, I remember quite vividly 1985 and wondering whether or not we were going to see our way through it. Obviously we did, although Afganistan created its own little surprise party down the road for us as well as the rest of the world.

But I've heard many online criticisms (and particularly in the reviews) that the frightening nuclear standoff we experienced at the time is too far removed from our current culture to "get." It's no longer relevant, they've claimed - we've gone too far beyond the concept of two superpowers ready to annihilate the planet multiple times over in the blink of the eye. "Better Dead than Red" seems ridiculous now, one critic wrote.

To quote Rorschach... hrm. Meanwhile, we're sitting in a situation where the global economy is experiencing a code-red crisis. So much so, even our emergency insurance for our banking institutions is being said to require financial bailout (that would be the FDIC), which could manage to wipe out the remaining savings of our country. And there's nothing you can do about it, really. There's nothing that safer than something else, as far as I know. No jobs are protected, literally anyone can lose their job.

Personally, I see a parallel. Maybe not a global annihilation type of parallel, but that feeling of pervasive helplessness while men in shadowed room try to figure out what to do next, and I'm not sure if they have anybody's interests in mind. I'm creeped out, just like you. We're at where we're at.

There's a moment in the graphic novel (and it's in the movie under a modified pre-text) where two strangers are mere seconds away from annihilation in an explosive blast. And in that moment, those two strangers embrace. Not for anything outside of the sheer moment to feel another human being as a slight comfort against the inevitability of destruction. You can do what you like, you're a grown-up. But let's, I dunno, let's all try to be a little more decent to one another until this works out. Tip a little extra if you got it. Bring down your extra spending a bit if you can. Drop some food off at a shelter. Let's just... let's just try to get through this. Ultimately, we're going to experience the aftermath together, no matter who we are and who we voted for. Let's just be decent for a little while.

The Twenty-Five That Mattered, Part I

2009-03-05T23:37:00.000-08:00

I knew that it would be more than a little FB note for me to recount my Top 25 albums, and that's part of what inspired creating another blog. I certainly wouldn't have enough space in an FB note to into it. There's a lot of stories and feelings associated with my top 25, and it's not really my top 25 either if that makes any sense. But in the grand scheme of things, these are the 25 albums that have made the most impact in one fashion or another on my life. They are not really in any particular order, outside of this one. The first one.

Jimi Hendrix - The Essential Jimi Hendrix
If you knew me in high school, even slightly, you knew I liked Jimi Hendrix. I had his name airbrushed on the back of my jean vest and could recite every song on every album released during his lifetime and afterward. I even owned a rare Italian import of Jimi playing a drunken impromptu tune called "Fuck Her In the Ass" with Jim Morrison on vocals. I was a little obsessed.

Part of the reason was the timing of the discovery. I had not originally bought the album for myself, my father had bought it for me. I'm not quite sure why he did, even today. My father did stuff like that when I was growing up, he bought me 70's rock albums of bands he probably wouldn't have permitted if I had bought them myself. But he bought it, and it sat unlistened among my other LP's for easily a year. Then one day we had an argument, which was nothing new in our household when growing up. Teenagers and parents do that. And I was very distraught, putting it mildly. And I started going through my room, trying to find anything that would make me feel better.

I don't know what made me put the album on, but I did. And the Essential compilation is different than "Are You Experienced", if you were unaware. "Are You Experienced" starts with "Purple Haze", which is a great rock tune on every level. You probably have (at least) heard it on the classic rock station on an infrequent Memorial Day 60's marathon or something like that. (Chances are you've heard it more often than that, but that's probably the bare minimum of exposure.)

The Essential compilation starts differently - it starts with "Are You Experienced." Casual radio listeners don't hear that song, mostly because of the way it starts. For the uninitiated, (or rather "experienced"), let me describe this to you. "Are You Experienced" begins with the drums...backwards. It starts in pure silence with the backwards guitar, then the drums, and then the tune loops back to a normal forward beat. It then continues to switch back and forth at different intervals to backwards recordings, only the bass pretty much stays consistent.

So imagine that. I was 16 and never heard anything like that in my life. It was like feeling mental blinders removed from my vision, opening up something that I'd never heard and clearing my mind. What kind of mind thinks like that? A mind that would create an entire song out of musical tracks looped backwards? (Obviously a stoned one, but I didn't know that at the time.) And after that, the album gotten even weirder with "Third Stone from the Sun", a jazz-like rhythm tune that is accompanied by vocals intentional slowed down. And the rest you may or may not know - "Hey Joe", "If 6 was 9", and so forth. The album itself ends with "Voodoo Chile (Slight Return)", which sounded like a electric guitar getting ravaged in a very dark but seductive way.

And that. Was that.

Ultimately my world opened at that moment. After that, music was something more. Playing guitar was something more. And although I've never played as well as Jimi Hendrix (and ultimately know I never will), the album was an introduction into a world of sounds, thoughts and particularly feelings that I didn't think you could convey on an album until that one perfect moment.

Now I can't really listening to a lot of Hendrix songs in one sitting. I played too much of it for twenty years. If you catch me in the car with a Hendrix tune playing, chances are I can point out every little moment of trivia and background stuff as the tune plays. (It drives Jadine bonkers when I do it for movies.) But that opening hum of "Are You Experienced" that's what did it. It's the song of birth, life and death. It's a motto to live by, to be experienced in this qualitative process known as life. And the Essential compilation was the first exposure to it all, that first album that meant more than just music.

Well so much for that.

2009-03-05T15:25:00.000-08:00

I had initially intended this new blog as a fresh start, but while looking through the dashboard for Blogspot, found I could export my old "deuceworks" blog. I thought it was gone with the wind, because the site was no longer there. Turns out I still can retrieve the old data by exporting the content as an xml file.

Now some of it's a little amusing to me, so I've exported it over. And it's going to need to be refined and cleaned up so expect that. Basically if you see a blog entry that does not have keywords or tags or even a title, it's probably an old message and read at your own risk. I may export the old Dead Honkey blog too. Mostly because I'm trying to be tidy.

Still the initial experiment is still valid for the next ninety days, so we'll see what happens. Huzzah.

Memories of Pomona: Why I Am Partially Deaf

2009-03-05T12:13:00.000-08:00

As a band, we would practice anywhere. For a very long time, we practiced in my father's back living room until the noise and my dad required us to move to another location. We then started practice at the drummer's house until the noise and his dad required us to move yet again. We were pretty loud.

Eventually, we began renting space on Second Avenue. Our first location was a dirty store front that we spent an afternoon/evening cleaning out. Our first practice...the lights caught on fire. So we moved to another building being renovated and stayed there for about a year or so, sharing the building with the Undertow (another Pomona band.) Then we had to move out of that. That's when we moved to the abandoned telephone company building.

We were in the basement, and there was concrete on all four sides. Any noise would reverberate throughout the whole facility. And we were pretty loud. Needless to say, this was a situation where I *should've* worn ear plugs all the time. My father the peach once said, "Well you guys shouldn't be loud enough to need earplugs anyway." Yeah, Dad. We're all in our 20's, long ass hair and goatees and we all listen to Nirvana and Mudhoney. Chances are we may go to 11 on the amps. My dad was a wealth of advice like this, btw. His birds and bees talk consisted of "Keep it in your pants." Thanks Dad. That's a big help for a teenage boy hitting puberty. If it wasn't for SelectTV at midnight, I wouldn't have learned anything.

It was a pretty scuzzy place, but we were scuzzy people. Usually, I'll call it the abandoned battery factory because we often found alkaline residue slowly creeping up the walls, and occasionally singing our amplifier casings. I have no idea why the Phone Company would be like that. Maybe old rotary phones had batteries in them. Maybe they Phone Company had a side business building bombs. I actually slept in that place a couple of times, which is a scary idea on hindsight. I'm surprised I wasn't attacked by rats. Maybe the alkaline killed them all off.

So I didn't wear earplugs all the time while practicing. And I paid for it, eventually. The deafness isn't really the problem, it's actually the tinnitus that screws with me most - a ringing in the ears whenever I'm exposed to loud noise. This is why I wear earplugs at every show I go to (most of the time.) Sometimes I get crap for it from the other musicians, but those suckholes don't have the Bell Choir ringing in their heads hours after getting home from the gig.

The punchline to this is that my dad now wears a hearing-aid. He says it's because of all the hand gun shooting he's done over the years. Maybe he should've kept that in his pants, too.

Memories of Pomona: Munchies Cafe

2009-03-05T00:26:00.000-08:00

For years, I never claimed West Covina as my hometown. Twenty-seven miles away from downtown Los Angeles, West Covina was (and still is) as suburban as someone could be. Whenever I return to visit my father or people still living in the area, I'm always taken back at home big the streets seem. Not like 42nd Street kind of big, just expansive for no apparent reason. And there's not a lot to do there, in my opinion. You have malls....and then you have other malls. The Action 45 song "Suburban Life" is about living in West Covina. "Nowhere to go, but we got lots to do" is the line that always resonates with me on a personal level, and that's pretty much how it felt.

But after high school, probably two years after high school, that's when things shifted to Pomona. People find it weird but I loved Pomona, maybe because it was removed from West Covina where I had spent most of my life. It's not a particularly nice area of the Inland Empire, a little rundown to be honest. But it holds special memories for me for a number of reasons and for years afterward, I claimed Pomona as my original "hometown" after I had moved up to the Northwest.

My first true show as a band was in Pomona on Second Street, the infamous Munchies Cafe. That's a great way to see if someone is old school in the IE music scene, did you ever play at Munchies Cafe? It was a little hole on the wall cafe with a bar in the back for bands. Occasionally you got paid. Sometimes in dinner. They had the greasiest grilled fish sandwich on Earth, and why I would always order it, I have no idea.

Looking back, we were real dipshits, too. We had no idea how long we were supposed to play. When the promoter first asked how long our set was, we honestly told him "Uh.... two hours?" And we really did (at least that first time.) Granted we played every cover we knew and made up a few on the spot, but we did it. It was a good thing we knew a lot of 60's covers.

Munchies was important, because it helped us learn fundamentals we had never known, like putting together set lists in advance, show promotion, performance.... oh yeah, and tuning. That was a good thing to learn, on hindsight. Same club was my first exposure to real-life drug addicts, you know, the kind you could actually talk to. (This was big stuff when compared to West Covina.) Not pot smokers, kids. No, no, no. These were honest-to-god needle-freaks, and although we didn't knowingly associate it with them, it definitely made West Covina seem rather quaint in comparison.

I saw a lot of interesting bands at Munchies, it's where we first learned (and eventually played with) Moonwash Symphony, who we thought were the coolest band ever. That's where we saw the Streetcleaners, I think Pinhead and of course that's where we eventually met the Toughskins. But that's another post. It was also where Gods Among Men slowly mutated from a retro-60's soft pop kind of thing (I distinctly remember the soap bubbles blow into the audience) to the screaming grunge freak it ended as. We were such nice boys, what the hell happened. Maybe it was Munchies itself - I just found online it was voted a runner-up of the best grunge bar in 1992 by alt-grunge newsgroup. One of the winners of course was the Off-Ramp in Seattle...another bar I ended up playing at, but with a different band.

Munchies Cafe was the yardstick for that first year of being in a band - could you fill Munchies Cafe? I think the place filled maaaaaybe 50 people, but it was the watermark at the time. It was our big dream, always. It's no longer there, of course. Now the front of the cafe is a Subway, although the back is actually what Characters is now. Strangely enough, Action 45 has played there numerous times. Funny things how go full circle, and I always like the stroll down Memory Lane every time we do. I often think about naming my first live album "Live at Munchies Cafe", and see if anyone gets the reference.

Ultimately, that little dive is my first thing of recollection in the Second Avenue Arts Colony. I remember one night we were playing, or maybe just hanging out, and our buddy Kevin came down and told us he was hanging out at this new coffeehouse down the street called the Haven. And everything eventually happened at the Haven.

Another Reason for a separate blog:

2009-03-04T13:39:00.000-08:00

There are a lot of memes going around Facebook these days. It's nothing new, you see it a lot on blogs everywhere. But memes are the heart of the internet, really - CNN.com recently did a story on the 25 Things meme, which should tell you how widespread they can be.

Well... I don't feel comfortable sharing all that on my FB profile. It probably shouldn't matter, but it's not where I like talking about stuff. So I'm just going to keep it on here for now.

I also have a tumblr blog, which I use primarily for internet garbage. Silly photos or quotes. It was intended as a notebook at first, but now I find myself trying to find clever things to put on it, which is dumb considering it has no audience to speak of. Fitting in with the pack, I guess you could call it. But if you want to read something from me for the next ninety days that's a little introspective, it will probably be here. Again, as part of the experiment.

So here we go.

2009-03-04T13:31:00.000-08:00

I have opted to create another blog, which will probably prove to be more trouble than its worth. However, I have decided I would like my blogging efforts to have a separate forum than what I previously used elsewhere. You're going to see a little more written content than what you've seen recently on my previous blog, and it may not be to your taste. If not, that's fine. Wait a little while, and see if I bring up something you like. I warn you now, I'll probably talk about tech stuff, music (both local and big-label in all sorts of genres), comic books, movies and personal anecdotes. Consider it a conversation you'd have with me in person after a few glasses of wine. This is an experiment, but I'll tell you the actual purpose to the experiment in about ninety days, should this last that long.

In the meantime, welcome.

Dead Honkey: Does This Taste Like Mayonnaise to You?

2009-02-25T18:28:00.001-08:00

Dead Honkey: Can't We All Just Get Along??!?

2009-02-18T15:30:00.001-08:00

Dead Honkey: Red Wingman

2009-02-13T10:55:00.001-08:00

The Day After: 2/7 at Malone's

2009-02-08T14:34:00.000-08:00

Last night, Action 45 played at Malone's out in Santa Ana. That's usually about a 40 minute drive from beautiful Glendale, but with the rain, it adds a little more time. I'm not afraid of driving in the rain, but driving in the rain in LA is a different game - people either drive waaaay too slow, or they take stupid chances that usually end in their car flipped over, a sight I witnessed earlier this week.

Rain is a problem for a band - Usually, you have to carry your gear from the parking lot to the venue (meaning it will at least get a little wet), and people are hesitant to go out to a club in the rain. Around 6pm, it was actually hailing in Glendale which made the prospect of driving out to the OC even more daunting, but luckily it lightened up once it came time to head out. Last night's show was the birthday show for Mig, main dude of Smigma Promotions. Mig's a good guy and has got us a lot of good shows lately. And it was also a chance to play with Dick Politic, an old-school style punk band we like out in the OC area. As is custom, our buddy Vinny Malachi is in Dick Politic. If you were unaware, Vinny Malachi has been in EVERY band in the O.C. I can name four bands he's CURRENTLY in, and if I do a little digging, he's probably in more. I've talked about making t-shirts that say "I've been in a band with Vinny Malachi!" I think I could sell a hundred. If you saw Action 45 on Flashrock, you saw our buddy Vinny. And he busts our balls just as much as we bust his.

Last night's MVP was definitely the guitarist for Inazuma who are my Favorite Band for the Week. I had heard of Inazuma before, but didn't know what to expect when it comes to a show. Turns out, Inazuma is a three-piece, rockabilly band from Japan (yeah, kinda like the 5,6,7,8's from Kill Bill but they're a little more hardcore.) They really rock out, but they showed their true mettle during a fucked accident. A little moshing had broken out while they were playing (not serious, but they were big guys) and someone fell down and a beer bottle flew out their hands....landing on the head of Inazuma's lead singer/guitarist. Naturally he felt it - cut open his head pretty good. Music stopped while he got some medical attention, and it put a pall on the evening naturally. But... and here's the intense thing, after he got bandaged up... they finished the set. Fucking a, man. That's awesomeness in action right there. I hope he didn't get a concussion. But if you're wanting to hear something a little different, a lot of fun and a band that walks it like they talk it... check out Inazuma.One more thing... last night was the debut of the new Bastards of America t-shirts. They look good.

It's the CHEESE!

2008-11-28T14:36:00.000-08:00

One of the many problems of television lies in commercials, specifically the constant repetition and barrage we receive during our formative years. Simply put, they repeat their ad crap until its drilled into our heads. This is of course to get us to remember their product when we go to the store, because we have yet to forget that we are stuck on Band-Aids and the Band-Aids are stuck on us.

Jingles do it a lot, of course. Infectious little earwigs get caught in our brains for the rest of our lives, making it impossible for us to hear certain songs without thinking about the product. But sometimes, the commercial has a catchphrase that also gets caught in our heads. (No one outside of the Los Angeles area understands what "YOU'RE KILLING ME LARRY!" means, but rest assured, you don't wanna know.)

And then, there's the weird scenario commercials that on hindsight, make no sense whatsoever. I get a lot of those stuck in my head, the weird non-sequiter commercials that have no context and have long since been off the tube. This is another sign I am a crazy person. Get me my shopping cart full of cans now.

One of my "favorites" however, because of the sheer weirdness of it, was and still is the Glad sandwich bag commercial. (Yellow and blue make green.) Maybe you have seen it. If not, this is how it goes: A woman opens her refrigerator and says.... TO HER FOOD... "Wow, what smells so bad in here?"

Then the food answers. First the lettuce goes, "Maybe it's the onions." The onions then respond, "It's not us! Why do we alway get blamed?" Then the sticks of butter stand up and declare, "IT'S THE CHEESE!" The cheese meekly acknowledges the bag wasn't sealed properly. Product introduction, product introduction, and then the commercial ends with something else in the refrigerator sidling up to the cheese and says, "Hey, you look good in green." The cheese smiles, yes smiles, and says "Are you getting fresh with me?" Cue announcer: Glad Bags Keep Food Fresh...and out.

Now. Let the moment of "Why the hell does David remember this" pass for a moment. C'mon, let it pass. Done? Well close enough. This commercial always sticks in my head, mostly because there are a lot of subtle moments of commentary. First of all... this woman is talking to her food. And it talks back. That's a fucked up relationship with the contents of your refrigerator right there. This would probably drive the PETA people out of their minds - it's bad enough that people eat animals in their minds, imagine how they'd feel if they knew lettuce could talk. Not just alive like an animal, but spoke in perfect English. I think they'd collectively cut their own throats, or die while choking on a piece of rock. She's really calm about the food talking back to her too, maybe she's on mescaline. Personally, if butter stood up in the tray and yelled "IT'S THE CHEESE!" at me, I'd probably slam the door shut, start screaming incontrollably and probably never stop. Ever.

The other thing that fucks with my head about this commercial, in a serious way, is the idea that food...HITS....on other FOOD. Think about that! Your beef macaroni might be eyeing the chicken and dumplings in order to get busy. You may open your refrigerator door and find the things in the salad drawer humping. I've always thought there was a dirty secret about gravy, and Jadine keeps assuring me that gravy doesn't just "make itself." Oh... but maybe... just maybe....

The Day After: 8/30 at Surf City Saloon

2008-08-31T14:27:00.000-07:00

Last night was a pick-up gig - we agreed to filling in for an opening act out in Huntington Beach at the last minute. I will confess, I wasn’t originally interested in doing the show (no prep time to advertise.) But Jake (our guitarist) loves doing shows, and I eventually figured what the hell. We had never played the Surf City Saloon and it seemed like a good opportunity to give it a whirl.
This was the first time I’ve ever witnessed a tribute band (The Mantors) open for the original band they’re imitating (The Mentors.) If you’re familiar with the Mentors, let it be known there were a lot of black hoods in the audience. There was concern whether we would go over with the Mentors audience, but we did surprisingly well. Of course, we front-loaded our set with our heavier material and debuted a new song to boot - “Riot Tonight”.

The Day After: Kelly's Pub - 8/16

2008-08-17T14:11:00.000-07:00

It is the morning after our show at Kelly’s Pub. I am of course sore all over, however I was smart enough to wear earplugs throughout the show - so no tinnitus residuals this morning. All the same, I definitely feel it today. I feel like Terry Funk looks when he gets up in the morning after a match (and that dude is missing his kneecaps.)
Last night, I tried to stay as late as I could, but I eventually had to skip out of TSR’s performance - By midnight, neither Jadine and I had dinner and I was ready to eat a man’s brain. Luckily, In-N-Out tastes better than a man’s brain. We did catch the headliners Anti-Social before they headed out on their mini-tour.

Gigs are a different game in the Inland Empire - Hollywood shows are always about getting your people to show, and they promptly leave afterward. You might as well too - you’re never seeing these other bands again. There’s usually lousy parking which probably you pay for, a cover fee and expensive drinks that are a little watery. However, the sound system is always crisp, the sound guy is professional and everywhere in the house is usually pretty good in the mix. That’s because there are “Industry people” about. All the same, you’re lucky if you get your full thirty minutes if that, I always think they’re lying.

Inland Empire gigs are usually in a Veteran’s hall or a local bar, sometimes a cover but usually not, all the bands share someone’s PA and the sound guy is either a friend of one of the bands or in a band himself. There’s no hard and fast rules, you’re supposed to do forty minutes but you can probably run late if it’s going that way. Once the sound starts, it’s a muddy din up front. But all the bands stick around because these are the guys you’re ultimately playing for. It’s a small scene, so you shouldn’t be a dick. Luckily, it’s easy to be friendly with a three dollar beer in your hand. And once the beers flow, everybody’s pretty friendly.
OC is a mix between the two - it’s usually a club but smaller. Sometimes they’re nice, sometimes they’re a dive. Still a strong crowd that’s tight, and a little bit better sound gear (although the sound system is usually someone working at the bar.) Sometimes they’re friendly, most of the time they’re guarded. Like I said, tight. You gotta keep coming back.

I like playing all three areas for different reasons. There’s little to no pretense in the IE or OC, but Hollywood is what you imagine as a “SHOW”. We usually get paid in the OC, however - something that rarely happens in IE and never in Hollywood. Hollywood is where you invite your co-workers, that’s what they’re impressed by. I like trying out new material in the OC for some reason, you can tell if it works faster. IE gigs are meant for hanging out - I think people hook up faster in the IE than the OC. Nobody hooks up in Hollywood. (At least I never have, and never will.) Now we just got to get the CD out. Thank God that’s almost done.

A Quote About Hindrances

2008-07-24T17:45:00.000-07:00

"You know the difference between you and me? Image the two of us walking along a hill when we get stuck behind a giant boulder. I try to push it, but realize it's too steep and the boulder's too big. So instead of wasting my time on a giant, immoveable obstacle, I just change directions and go a different path."
"And what do I do?"
"You jump for joy and yell, 'Oh boy! FREE ROCK!'"

Dead Honkey: Planetary Divergence

2008-04-23T12:24:00.003-07:00

Dead Honkey: Helter Schmelter

2008-04-23T12:24:00.002-07:00

Dead Honkey: Back to Midget Tennis? Oh Yes.

2008-04-16T12:21:00.001-07:00

Dead Honkey: Cleanup on Aisle Five

2008-04-15T23:57:00.001-07:00

Dead Honkey: True Life Bar Stories

2008-04-15T23:56:00.001-07:00

Dead Honkey: Requiem for Big Chuck

2008-04-15T23:55:00.001-07:00

Dead Honkey: No Difference Whatsoever.

2008-04-15T23:54:00.001-07:00

India - Politics As Usual

2008-04-06T14:36:00.000-07:00

"So what do you think about the election?"

This was the question I received more often than anything else, during my recent visit to India. It didn’t matter what city I was in, or my relation to the person I was speaking to. Every Indian citizen I met wanted to know the same thing about their visiting American representative - what I thought about the election of our President.

It was also the same time type of opener that would begin a conversation here in the U.S. - what they themselves thought about the election. And that’s just fine, I don’t mind hearing what people have to say about politics for the most part, provided they can back their opinions with a relatively reasonable discourse and respect other people’s differences. And based on that... I rarely speak about politics in the U.S., because Americans can rarely do that.

But those I met in India certainly can, and I was amazed at the attention many of my discussions had to the issues of American politics - the world is absolutely watching what’s going on over here. For obvious self-interests of course, but all the same - I barely remember the names of the Indian President and Prime Minister while visiting (Pratibha Patel and Manmohan Singh respectively.) It’s a passionate discussion for India as well - Over dinner, I watched a married couple have a very opiniated (but friendly) disagreement over Hillary vs. Obama. Rarely have I seen that sort of passionate discourse publically shown.

Of course, some would ask what right do they have to an opinion about our government. I like to think that being a major force in the world’s destiny on every level, for good or bad, it’s fairly reasonable they think something about the topic. And nobody believed there should massive burnings or anything radical, they all simply were curious to know what I thought would happen because they knew it would be affecting them eventually - when you get into the backseat of a car, it’s not unreasonable to hope for the sobriety of the driver.

Indian politics is a little more interesting - instead of a bipartisan system, they have multiple parties that work in a parliamentary government - as well as a president and prime minister. To gain power as prime minister, for example, you need to get a majority of the votes in parliament. But with multiple parties, it’s not a one-or-the-other scenario. So there’s a lot of wheeling and dealing that occurs, to get a majority support. It’s also interesting that they have less of a "professional politician" as far as I’ve seen - many of their ranking positions are populated by those who have been educated in other fields, such as medicine, or economics or a science. As I said several times (and got a good laugh everytime), India has elected economists, nuclear physicists and doctors into power... we in California elected the Terminator. (And then you shrug.)

One more thing, if it matters - very few of the people I spoke with, knew of John McCain.

India - Dirty Secrets

2008-04-02T14:35:00.000-07:00

I have a dirty secret when I come to india - it usually happens while I sit alone in the hotel room, late at night with the cable tv on. I know Jadine would not appreciate the time spent in its pursuit, but I can't help it - it's addictive. Yes, I speak of cricket. God I am learning to love cricket. I liked it before I totally understood the rules and still don't get all of it. Don't care. I like cricket. Cricket, for all you backwater americans, is a combination of baseball, slaughterball (if you remember that in grade school) and a beer bash. Full tests run five days, to make sure you're good and liquored up. But india has now launched what they call the 20-20 league, where each team only gets twenty pitches. Makes it go about an hour and a half which enough time to get a good buzz on. There's a lot of drinking while watching cricket, which is why I think america should embrace this fine sport. An acquaintance spent a fine afternoon on saturday, explaining the rules while I tried to explain american football. I think I walked away with a clearer understanding. The ibl (the national 2020 league) has local city teams, and I have yet to decide which I like. Its arbitrary anyway just like the nfl. Rarely do people root for the hometeam, they root for a city they have never visited for people who don't really live there. I don't see why cricket would be different. Poor jadine. Her husband has a cricket habit. For xmas, I need me a cricket bat. And heroin. She'd probably prefer the heroin.

India - I'm Afraid of Americans

2008-03-25T14:33:00.000-07:00

There is a really funny perception amongst the people I meet that being an American, I want to be surrounded by American things. As I drove from the airport to the hotel on Sunday, the driver had the radio tuned to an Indian music station which was perfectly fine - until he quickly switched to an American music station playing a strange mix of hip-hop and light rock. Despite my assurances that the original music was fine, he proceeded to keep switching between the American music stations.

This happened while having lunch yesterday as well at a restaurant away from the hotel - we were eating a fine lunch when the overhead music abruptly changed to Madonna’s Greatest hits. Even my hosts who ate their regularly looked up in wonder - "They never play this." And then they looked at me, and realized "Oh, they’re doing this because you’re here." Now I admire the attempt to make me feel at home, but I wouldn’t listen to Madonna at home either, so it wasn’t really necessary. Nor was it expected while eating in an Indian restaurant... in INDIA.

And it got me thinking that it probably wasn’t the first time they’ve felt obligated to do so, because another American visitor probably reacted poorly to the fact that despite being in another country and culture, they needed to have bits of home surrounding them to make them feel at ease. Carl, feel free to chime in on this - I know you’ve probably experienced the same.

It also happens a lot with the cuisine - India is a naturally spicy palette, but I made the mistake of asking for food "mild" when I was ordering. "Mild" equates to "Bland", and I certainly didn’t make the same mistake this trip. So far, I have yet to have anything that was extraordinarily hot, although some did have a spice to it (nothing worse than what I’ve had at a streetside Taqueria in East LA.) But I’m sure they’ve have to softpedal in the past, and judging from how they spice food on the East Coast, I’m sure it was some Middle America manager type that liked their pasta coming from a little blue box made by Kraft.

Well, I’m packing it up here in the hotel, and getting ready to fly to Pune. Hyderabad was pretty quiet and tame this time around, I imagine Pune will be the same as well. But maybe I’ll get a chance to go clothes shopping, which sounds funny but I really liked the wardrobe I picked out when I had to purchase new clothes during my last visit (if you don’t remember, my luggage arrived a week later than I did.)

Dead Honkey: Domestic Bliss Ninny

2008-03-21T10:43:00.001-07:00

Dead Honkey: Animals Respect Dominance

2008-03-19T17:15:00.001-07:00

Dead Honkey: The Dead Honkey Afterschool Special

2008-03-17T10:31:00.001-07:00

Dead Honkey: Hip To Be Square

2008-03-14T09:24:00.001-07:00

Dead Honkey: How? How Am I Funny?

2008-03-11T13:29:00.001-07:00

Dead Honkey: Eh, Robot

2008-03-10T10:16:00.001-07:00

Dead Honkey: Try This On For Size

2008-03-07T08:54:00.001-08:00