Journey To The Center Of Charlottesville

Its a funny thing what happens to me as soon as I set foot in this Water School van. All I can think about is writing this blog. Every little thing that is said or is witnessed is immediately stored in the RAM of my mind:

• Adam makes his first ever "That's what she said" joke and I feel like he's finally one of us.
• Eric uncharacteristically [and jokingly] says "Hello ladies!" when some lacrosse girls jog passed the van as we've stopped for gas.
• Mike buys a bottle of Diet Mountain Dew with a cap that feels like its been glued on. Eric and I loosened it up, before Adam finally cracked it open.

And here comes my problem. I don't want to say "RAM" again, but my brain doesn't have much RAM, so once I had these three facts stored away, my mind starts steaming and I get dizzy. Its a real condition and I don't know how to stop it.

Plenty of interesting stuff happens to me day in and day out, outside of this van, but I never really feel the need to document it. But as soon as Eric says, "Who packed this thing?," something he says nearly every time that we load up the van with equipment, I knew that I needed to get this all down on paper. And really, I don't know what I'd do without this urge. If I didn't do the tour diary on the first and last Water School coast to coast tour, I would have had a nervous breakdown upon returning home and we wouldn't even be having this conversation right now.

So, here we are, 45 minutes into the trip, just outside of DC. The anticipation says that we're about to hit rush hour traffic and spend the next hour or so sitting still. Adam had a motion to take the long way 'round, which I seconded, but we were locked in a stalemate when Eric and Mike wanted to just go through DC. After a few tie breaking phone calls, we decided on DC. Of course, as we're the area, Mike has just given us the kiss of death by saying, "I don't want to jinx anything, but traffic's looking pretty great!" Sitting around should commence in t minus two paragraphs.

This is the first time that the band has left the comfy confines of Baltimore since early 2006 and the first time since Adam joined the band. Our last of town jaunt was to New York City for a pretty successful show with the Oranges Band. That afternoon as we waited around for two hours for him to arrive to pick us up, we had decided it was time to kick our old drummer, Matt, out of the band. On the drive home, we decided it was as opportune time as ever so we told him then. In We immediately knew it wasn't as opportune as we thought, since we still had about 2 hours left in our trip. Eric pretended to sleep, as Mike and I just made awkward glances at each other.

Stuck in traffic.

How did all of you feel about oral presentations when you were in high school or college? I dreaded them. There were a few classes that on day one, when I received the syllabus, I read that there'd be an oral presentation at the end of the semester. I'd immediately freak out, even though I knew that it was still 4 months away. Then I'd do everything I could to keep it out of my mind, only to find myself waking, crying, screaming in the middle of the night. This is also how I feel about dying.

And driving the band van. I've been in the driver's seat one time since we returned from tour in 2004. I was never good at it, but when you're doing 8 hour drives everyday, each of the four of you need to pull your weight. That said, its already been hinted that we're all going to do some driving on this trip. Gimme a break! No way, bro! You don't want me driving. Especially in a populated area. So, I've been making sure to tell Mike that he's a really good driver every so often, in hopes that he gets a sense of pride from it and wants to do it for the rest of the way. If we can keep him in the driver's seat for the entire trip to Mono Loco [did I mention that we're playing a taco restaurant?], then there's no way that it'll require three drivers to make it 2 and a half hours to get home. Plus I'm going to get trashed on margaritas just for good measure.

And so you have it. We'll see if there's a part two to this or not.

Songtown - Vol. 10 (Eanie Meany)

Artist: Jim Noir
Song: Eanie Meany
Album: Tower Of Love
Year: 2006

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Alright! Let's get down to it! As we've previously discussed, back when I worked at "Traders," we got a lot of promo CDs in it. I usually caught all of the good stuff, but occasionally, I'd leave it up to my co-worker, TambourineMan, to find the ones that slipped through the cracks. Thus, one day he played one of the best CDs of 2006 on the stereo. It was so beautiful, that even after the 5th listen, I still didn't really realize any music was playing. It was just so naturally perfect that I heard it as just being more of a sound of life than anything. I eventually caught on and realized it was this Tower Of Love album by Jim Noir. TambourineMan got dibs on our only copy of the album, so he eventually took it home. But he was gracious enough to keep it around the office for a good six months, so this, a disc from the Nick Lowe boxset, Belle and Sebastian's The Life Pursuit and the Jayhawk's Smile became the official theme music for our office.

Even still, it somehow skipped out of my memory when I compiled my best of list for that year. What was I thinking? I eventually owned it in 2007.

It took me a while to figure out which song I wanted to highlight today since they're all a lot of fun, but I settled on this "Eanie Meany," because its the most repetitive, funny and relateable. Jesus, just tell me how to spell "relatable," someone!!!

If you don't give my football back, I'm gonna get my dad on you
I only kicked it over your fence and broke a silly gnome or two

Eanie meany, run away
Eanie meany run away

You love it, right? I've never read the liner notes but I assume by the nature of the production style, that its this Jim Noir guy playing and singing everything. It just seems appropriate. This is what my music will sound like again one day. Just really nice.

Okay, I have to run. That said, let this song speak for itself. Or better yet, let this music video do the talking:

Joke #1

What sort of element could a dog discover??







How about ARRRFFFFON???

Mr. Movie

When I first decided to stop going to class in college, I would fill my newly free afternoons with a matinee or two. Over the course of the next year or two, this blossomed into me attempting to see every major motion picture that would reach Loews White Marsh 16 (the multiplex) or Beltway Movie 6 (the second run cheapo theatre). It didn't matter what they were. I did not discriminate. I saw them all. Practical Magic is about two witchy sisters??! I'll be there! Sphere is about a gigantic magical metallic ball? Count me in! Hard Rain. Dangerous Beauty. Hope Floats. The Borrowers. Wrongfully Accused. Check, check, check, check, check. And that was just Wednesday! Ba-dum-bump.

Anyhow, during that period, I began noting many issues that I had with the common movie-goer, and frankly, probably got a little too snobby over the whole thing. So snobby that I began writing a "Movie Theatre Etiquette" series on a short-lived money-making enterprise called Themestream. I tackled everything from arrival time to how most every concession is uncalled for. A lifelong friend, Junior, called me out on being too much of an ass over the situation, so I stopped typing it. But he couldn't stop me from feeling it.

That said, I don't go to the movies that frequently anymore, so my stance on many of previous pet peeves has been significantly softened. However, there's one that still rings as strong as ever. Seat Placement.

Mathematically and logically, when 40 people all go to see a film in a 300 seat theatre, there is absolutely no reason why you should have to sit directly behind, in front of or next to someone that you didn't go to the theatre with.

Granted, I understand that most people gravitate to the middle of the theatre, so if you were to graph the most popular seats in a movie house, you'd see a large build-up in the middle aisles of the middle rows. That and right next to wherever I decide to sit. Without fail, people love to sit close to me. I've already learned my lesson that I should try to never be the first into a movie theatre. Even if I sit in the far back corner, the other patrons will inevitably think that I know something that they don't know and come and join me.

Last night, I went to see There Will Be Blood and I purposely walked into the theatre after I knew that the bulk of the other people had already chosen their seats. I'm not that picky. I'll sit in the far right corner if I have to, but if I can get away with a slightly better seat, I want to take it. So, I chose a row that for all other intensive purposes (ed: I should say "intents and purposes..."...thanks darnedanalretentivestbloggirl) was probably a little too close to the screen, and I sat in the end seat. The end seat allows me to change location at a later point if things really got out of hand. That said, I'm generally anti-confrontational and I wouldn't want to to make even the most ignorant of moviegoers think that they've done something terribly wrong or have an odor problem of some sort, so I typically resign myself to my fate and stick it out for the long run. Perhaps I think that I'll sit myself into an even worse situation if I were to move.

That said, my seat pick seemed to be perfect. But I should have known better than to think that. Because as the first scene rolled through, a gentleman bundled up in what appeared to be 3 or 4 jackets stood next to my seat, pointing down the aisle, asking if any of those seats were taken. I reluctantly said no and stood up to let him through. Now would be a good time to point out that I was the only person in this aisle. He could have easily navigated to enter at the other end of the row. Alas, the movie had started, so I gave him a free pass for wanting to sit down as soon as possible. Plus, he didn't sit right next to me. He at least gave me a two seat buffer. Although he had 15 other further away seats to chose from, again, I'll give him another free pass.

And thus began the 20 minute ordeal of him (let's call him Loudman) peeling all of his layers off, opening however many bags of candy he had and generally adjusting himself. Good. That's done. Two or three minutes of pure silent bliss followed. Things are looking up.

Until it turned out that Loudman has a bit of a cold. I'm not going to fault anyone for being sick. Lord knows that I've had a chronic cough for the last two months that's probably been irritating everyone's who been unfortunate enough to have a conversation with. That said, I kept my cough in check for the entire twopointfive hour film. Good for me. This guy was another story.

Cough. Sneeze. Blown nose. Hocking throat noise. In the end, the ratio was probably one noise per minute. All dramatically louder than they really should have been. But illness is a force of nature. It wasn't this fella's fault. What was his fault was that after each disruptive sound, he made a point of saying "Ekscuseme" even louder than the noise itself. Cough. Ekscuseme. Sneeze. Ekscuse me. Blown nose. Ekscuseme. Hocking throat noise. Ekscuseme.

It should now be said that at the one hour mark in the film, some other guy came and sat immediately behind me. Did he really not mind missing almost the entire first half of the film? Had he already seen the first half the night before only to have to rush his pregnant wife to the hospital? Or was he escaping an annoying situation that was happening to him further back in the theatre? I gave him the benefit of the doubt and decided it was the latter. [Can you use the words "former" and "latter" when you had previously mentioned more than two thing?]

It was a matter of minutes later when Loudman decided that he might need to go the bathroom or the concession stand. I say "might," because he stood up and walked towards me. I stood up and my seat reached its full upright position, he said something that sounded like simply, "I forgot," turned around and sat back down. He forgot what?

Since I was already standing up, I should have taken this opportunity to relocate, but instead I sat back down in my original seat. Of course, ten minutes later, he remembered, and had to get by me to pop out for a Raisinette or something. I stood up and as each of his ten feet stepped on each of mine, he said, "Ekscuseme." He returned five minutes later, no worse or better for wear, and we did our little dance again.

At this point, I even tried to give IMissedTheFirstHourOfTheMovieBecauseMyWifeHadAChild a knowing glance of "Do you believe this guy?" thinking we might possibly be kindred spirits, but he just ignored me.

I don't know how to end this story.

Songtown - Vol. 9 (This Will Be Our Year)

Artist: The Zombies
Song: This Will Be Our Year
Album: Odessey and Oracle
Year: 1968
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I'm not going to lie and tell you that I don't think that "Auld Lang Syne" isn't a beautiful song. [A lot of negatives there. What exactly am I trying to say?] I don't entirely know what we're singing about. To me, it appears there's a lot of talk about forgetting and maybe dying or something. That said, its got a nice melody and any song where you and 30 of your closest friends and family huddle together in a chorus gets at least a couple points in my book.

That said, sometime in the near future, I'd like to at least give "This Will Be Our Year" a chance to usurp that one.

The warmth of your love's
Like the warmth from the sun
And this will be our year
Took a long time to come...

Don't let go of my hand
Now the darkness has gone
This will be our year
Took a long time to come...

And I won't forget
The way you helped me up when I was down
And I won't forget
The way you said "darling, I love you"
You gave me faith to go on
Now we're there
And we've only just begun
This will be our year
Took a long time to come...

The warmth of your smile
Smile for me, little one
And this will be our year
Took a long time to come...

You don't have to worry
All your worried days are gone
And this will be our year
Took a long time to come...

And I won't forget
The way you helped me up when I was down
And I won't forget
The way you said "darling, I love you"
You gave me faith to go on
Now we're there
And we've only just begun
This will be our year
Took a long time to come...

And this will be our year
Took a long time to come...

You might be saying, "Dude. New Year's was two weeks ago. Why are you just getting around to writing about this song now? Why wasn't this the first song that you wrote about?" Well, that's a valid point and I don't have a real answer for you. So, instead I'll offer this:

Why should we wait until New Year's Eve to sing this one? If it were up to me, we'd be singing this one at the end of every night. There's no better song that paints a picture of hope for the future. Sure, last year sucked, yesterday sucked, whatever time period sucked...but now, we're putting the pieces together and this year is finally gonna be the one. Optimism!

The song is nice and short. The lyrics are simple enough so that if you don't know it, you can watch the words forming on your loved one's lips and figure out where its going. And how about, "Darling, I love you. You gave me faith to go on!"? The vocal performance here is pretty relaxed and calm aside from that line. And lo and behold as that line comes approaching, you won't be able to help yourself from belting it out. All great sing-a-long songs have that moment. The one moment in the song that you that you look forward to from the opening notes. You can just imagine how you and yours will be all smiling at each other as you all raise your voices and ham that part up.

Instrumentally, the Zombies aced this one. The drums and piano play perfect counterpoints to each other, as the guitar and bass subtly fill in the rest of the spectrum. That said, I feel like this would be terribly difficult to replicate so perfectly, so...again...all great sing-a-long songs don't require anything more than a bunch of jokers standing in a circle singing their little hearts out. And this one is perfect for that.

Alright. Maybe I'll have to type up another one of these later on. Because this one...[stage directions: the blogger yanks at his collar with his index finger.]

Songtown - Vol. 8 (Encyclopedi-ite)

Artist: Sammy
Song: Encyclopedi-ite
Album: Tales Of Great Neck Glory
Year: 1996
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I just realized something about this Sammy band this morning. But, first, let's start at the beginning.

In 1996 and the two years leading up to it, I was super-excited that I had the good fortune of living in Overlea, just up the street from my favorite CD store, Record and Tape Trader. Setting aside the facts that this location was to eventually close and I would eventually work for/grow disenchanted with the company and I would eventually not care for the CD format anymore...in 1996, I was in love with finding new music and there was now better place to do it.

On what seemed like every summer afternoon, I would walk to "Traders" and initiate some sort of transaction that would involve me selling back a cardboard box's worth of CDs to them and then proceeding to spend all the money that they just gave me on new music. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. I could hear their collective sighs when I walked through the door. As a buyer, they didn't mind me. I didn't ask a lot of questions. I kept to myself. I spent a lot of money. As a seller, the employees dreaded seeing me, as I was a sign that they'd be spending their next thirty minutes on the phone with the Towson store to figure out how much they should give for each disc. That said, the company, as a whole, probably loved me, because I took great care of my CDs and they could get away with giving me $2 for a CD that I paid $12 for last month, which then they'll turn and sell for $8 next week. The sad part was that it would more than likely be me re-buying the CD, after reflecting and realizing that my financial situation wasn't as dire as it seemed and that I couldn't possibly live without Dr. Feelgood.

So, I resent the implication that my 27 year old self might need to sit down with a financial advisor, but my 16 year old self? Not so much.

I haven't outgrown this process of buying and quickly selling my CDs, but at least now I have iTunes and the mp3 format, so I preserve digital copies of every album that I've owned over the last four years, at least. The archiver part of me kicks me for not having discovered mp3s in 1992, however.

One such CD is Sammy's Tales of Great Neck Glory. Bought it. Loved it. Sold it. Re-bought it for a penny off of Amazon. So not a terrible arc.

Each time I was at Traders, I would thumb through each and every rack to make sure that I hadn't missed something yesterday. One fateful day, as I flipped through the S placard, I found this CD with a couple mop-topped dudes on it, with a little sticker that [I thought] said "Featuring former members of GBV." I had recently started listening to Guided By Voices, as they were apparently the godfathers of indie rock. I didn't necessarily care for GBV that much, but it had taken stickers with a lot less intrigue to convince me to buy other albums. So, of course, I was going to buy this one.

I took it up and was surprised that it was a thoroughly enjoyable listen. I loved the first five or six songs, and then from there, it all becomes murky. The album as a whole is a little or a lot monotonous. There aren't really any bad songs, but if you've heard one, you know what the second, third and fourth ones are going to sound like.

And I feel bad for saying this, because every single mention of Sammy on the internet mentions it, but it would be a disservice if I didn't note that they're a poor man's Pavement. The music is a lot smoother and the lyrics, for the most part, don't ever come close to matching that abstract brilliance of Malkmus, but nonetheless...Pavement For Babies. That said, most of these reviews use this relation as Strike One, Strike Two and Strike Three against the band. I think that's going a little overboard. Granted, the reviews were written at a time when a lot of bands were trying to steal the Pavement sound, so the reviewers were probably just really fed up with it all. So, maybe they've returned to Tales of Great Neck Glory and can now listen to it as just an album of however many pretty good songs.

"Encyclopedi-ite" is one of the three or four standout tracks. The lyrics revolve around the narrator's obsession with some know-it-all smarty-pants. If the music and melody wasn't so peppy and fun, a typical listener would probably report this song to the authorities upon hearing it. You see, it sounds like Dude is friends with this Encyclopedi-ite, but everytime they hang out, "[she] always gave him the tour/he never gets to explore." So this leads the dude to break into the girl's room so that he can "absorb like a sponge/everything that [she's] done." Or maybe I'm reading too far into it? Maybe its less creepy? Maybe its just his brother or something and he's sick of living in his shadow? You decide!

Let me live your life, Encyclopedi-ite
Don't turn out the light

Yeah, he's a creep. No doubt.

And now to what I've just found out this morning. None of these guys have ever been in Guided By Voices. That stickers said ""Featuring former members of GVSB" instead. Girls vs. Boys. I hated that band and even my pitiful 16 year old suffer wouldn't have been suckered into buying this album if he had read that correctly.