I have been quiet lately. There are a couple of reasons for that, mostly the fact that I’ve been playing gigs the last couple of weeks, and just been here and there and everywhere in between. I talked to a friend about it, an old music buddy of mine, and he put it well when he asked, “What are you doing, saving it up for Friday night?”
It’s a part of a Dire Straights song, and has to do with how you can exhaust your creative juices if you use them up too much, or too frequently. You don’t want to pull the best solo you’re going to pull all week, in your living room while practicing. You want to save that thing for Friday night when you’re on a real stage! In this case, I haven’t written because I needed to clear my mind from all the Puerto Rico entries. I’ve saved it up, and this is my Friday night. Really it’s Tuesday, and I’m here watching the Kings beat the Sharks, really feeling the writing groove, and ready to throw down an epic ramble.
One of the gigs we played this weekend was at La Cuevita in Highland Parque, a sweet little spot with good margaritas and tons of people for a Sunday night. Even for a Cinco de Mayo, it was an awesome crowd for a Sunday, and we tore it up as best we could.
The door guy at the Bar recognized me from an old band I was in, and we talked about that. I found out that my old guitarist in that group, J, was no longer in it. I asked why, he didn’t know. Someone who was with us told me he quit the band because he had a baby. They didn’t know whether it was a boy or a girl, but I was just really surprised that he hadn’t at least dropped me an email. Oh well, I thought. He’s a dad, and you can’t ever fault a dad for being a family man. Especially J, who had always worked, was married, owned his house, and was probably one of the more ready and responsible characters I know (knew).
I drank my sorrows away, and ran up a ninety dollar bar tab. The bartender loved the band, and cleared my tab for me. She told me to come back on a Thursday when it was quieter, and I may do that one of these days, after some pupusas at Las Cazuelas, which is right across the street. $5 pitchers of good beer at happy hour, and the best Salvi food anywhere. I think I’ve dropped there name here before, but I’ll be damned if that will stop me from promoting them again. Anyway, good place to drink your bready absorbtion meal before a show or drink-a-thon at La Cuevita.
Yesterday, exactly one Sunday later, we performed at the Huntington Beach Surf Museum for a great crowd and everybody who happened to be passing by as well. One of the promoters of the show, Big Tiki Jeff, asked us to keep the bass down, as I had my cabinet set to stun. I turned it down, and someone said “We need to keep the neighbors happy”
Someone in the crowd spoke up and said, “I’m a local, and I’m happy!” I laughed, but still turned down my bass. No need to blow the woofers out and drown out the guitar.
We played an hour and ten minute set of instrumentals. It’s a good thing we’re an instrumental band too, because the PA went out in the middle of introducing the band, so I was forced to scream, and holler I did. I felt like a town crier calling out songs. It was a hell of a lot of fun, and we tore through our set like we always do. In between songs it was fun to crack jokes in a full yell so the crowd could hear me. Nothing like yelling at about 50 people all around you and playing music in between.
Come to think of it, we forgot to play the new song in the set list, “Holley”. Awesome and true story here, I received today, an audio recording of my project car running for the first time. This was the first time I ever heard the engine turn over, and the first time the car has had an engine fire up in the engine bay in about, hmm, 10 years or so? The carburetor is a Holley, and the song is about that carburetor, and how I’ve been just dying to hear her breathe. . .The song feels like that, it has that aggressive desirous groove to it that drives the song along and makes you anticipate the changes. Power is nothing without control. This song is a reflection of that philosophy to me, at least.
I’m excited! The car is a beast, and she’s gonna be fun to drive. I still haven’t named her. I’m a firm believer in the earning of one’s own name, and I’m sure it will come to me somewhere on down the road. I can’t wait to put some thought into it, while putting some miles behind my car. Maybe by then I’ll have Holley recorded, and put it on the stereo to help the contemplation along. . . . .
Another crazy thing that happened was that my little brother moved out. He moved to Highland Park, which seems to be all over this entry, actually. I was super worried about him at first, but after sleeping on it a couple of nights, it really makes sense.
He’s a successful guy. He makes good money, has a girlfriend of many years who he was already living with, and the apartment he got is fairly nice for the price and neighborhood.
Thing is, when my sister got married and moved out, it was fine. She married a cop, and at first she moved in with him and his parents. Now they have their own house in a nice neighborhood, and everything feels nice and secure.
My brother on the other hand, I worried about for the first couple of days. He’s a lot like me, and we both have this bad side of ourselves that we hate, and have dealt with in our own ways. He is now the “responsible” one for his household, as his girl doesn’t work, is a student, and he basically supports her. As far as I can tell, this is the case. I could be wrong, but I don’t think so.
Anyway, it freaked me out for a coupe of days, but I feel mostly over it now. He’s plenty responsible, and if anything, this experience will be valuable to him in the future. I hope he’s ready, and I feel like he is.
I’m cutting this ramble semi-short to go watch the third period of the Kings game, and I need to read up on the Preakness, and whether or not I should put a little scratch on Orb again. Also need to follow up for details on a Vegas trip upcoming. THAT should be a fun post. . .. . Until then,