Thursday, August 28, 2003

Perhaps my heaviness is due to the proximity of Mars... that damned, lonely planet: so cold, so dry, so red, so hard. Hemorrhoid in the sky.

Mariners come back. Let's win a World Series!

p.s. I have written the "Squirrel" song. The chorus goes: "We've got the nuts to feed the whole world, children! (x2)"

Wednesday, August 27, 2003

Check this letter out:

"Chris, I have a huge favor to ask of you. My friends and I are entering a RedBull/Flugtag contest in New York City where we have to create a human-powered flying machine, and have the machine set sail above the Hudson. Our human-powered-flying machine will be a flying squirrel (we will decorate fused-bicycle-parts as a giant squirrel with wings). Each of the first four characters will try and ride the squirrel but alas, they will all be thrown off mercilessly. The urban cowgirl will step up, and when she mounts, not only will she not be bucked off the squirrel, but the squirrel will zip down a ramp, and fly over the Hudson River (until both the squirrel and urban cowgirl fall in).

We are piecing together a stellar music compilation -- including R.Kelly's "I Believe I Can Fly"-- to accompany our skit. Since our presentation blends a mixture of nitty-gritty urban living with the classical styles of macho country life, we felt that our compilation would be complete only with a song from the Rappin' Cowboy himself.

I don't suppose you have any songs about this subject matter. Would you be able to compose one, or part of one, in the next week and send it to us on CD or a tape? "

I don't even know this person!! (What a strange, wonderful life this is...)

Tuesday, August 26, 2003

I'd better write something so you know I'm still alive. I like to believe that other people worry about me as much as you do, but you know; they probably don't, which is good. I'm depressed and a little overwhelmed today. I'm angry that making a couple bucks off my music is so difficult. I'm scared and want to flee this town again. But no, I shall step forward. I'll not let these demons dissuade me from my task. I'll metamorphasize into a madman if I must. I'm reading Don Quixote again for tips. I'm reading Rich Dad Poor Dad. I'm reading I Don't Want to Talk About It. I'm reading the sports page of the Olympian. Bobby Bonds died. Wesley Willis died. That is sad, sad, sad. I'm wearing black today, again. Black carharts-- anarchist-style. I'm hopeful.

I like the new pictures on the website. Goose helped me put them up. The "Bio" page photo is a little strange perhaps. I have a jar of Adam's peanut-butter in my hand. The picture of me on the "Journal" page is where my parents live in North Dakota and where they may grow old. The picture on the "Home" page is in Osh Kosh, Wisconsin and I'm about to sign an autograph.

I finished my four-week run of shows at Herb's bar in Friday Harbor. I learned a lot there and made many new fans and friends. I'm glad it's over, though.

Wednesday, August 20, 2003

Note to the readers of this journal: this is not a request for your money. I'm just working out kinks.

Dear _________,

Hello. I am writing in regards to your inquiry of becoming a venture capitalist in my new music project. The project I speak of is A Year in the Life of… Slippery Goodstuff, which is a full-length rap/r & b album I’ve worked steadfastly at over the last fourteen months and which is near completion. If the slogan “sex sells” is accurate then this new CD may very well be my biggest selling work yet, as every song on it works to tell the story of a sex-crazed (but lovable) character by the name of Slippery Goodstuff. Individual songs off of it have already proven to be hugely popular amongst my friends and fans and the hip hop production styles match the works of other currently successful pop and rap stars. This album is my most playful work to date and I believe will prove to be a big hit if promoted correctly, and there is the rub. Another slogan seems appropriate now: “it takes money to make money” which, of course, you know. In my zeal to complete this album, as well as to continue building my reputation as a touring showman, I’ve had to decline job offers that I felt would have sabotaged my career’s momentum. Thus, I have run out of income.

My proposal to you is this: lend me $20,000 and by the end of three years I will have created the career I need—a career that generates a guaranteed yearly profit. At this time I will return all the money you’ve lent me along with a generous interest rate greater than you could have received at any bank.

The way I plan to use your money will proceed approximately like this: 1) I will pay off my $9,000 credit card debt at 19.8% interest, thus saving my project close to $200.00 per month. 2) I will press 3,000 12” singles using the most exceptional song from A Year in the Life of… Slippery Goodstuff as the A-side and something complimentary for the B-side. 3) I will ship it en masse to radio stations and reviewers. 4) Two months later I will do the same with two more provocative, and complimentary selections off the album. 5) Two months after this I will do this procedure for a third time. 6) I will gather a small team of musicians to help me produce my songs live. 7) I will then press the completed full-length CD/album and follow up with adequate promotion, distribution, and tour support. 8) During this time I will fully exploit NACA in order to make at least $1,000.00 per show as I tour during Autumn, Winter, and Spring of 2004/5. 8) Throughout this process I will collaborate on a follow-up rap/pop album to be released the following Autumn. 9) I’ll make a video from this follow-up album’s “hit”. 10) I’ll tour this new album and video during Autumn, Winter, and Spring of 2005/2006.

I am currently researching managers, agents, and independent, trustworthy labels to help me reach my goals. If I find anything I deem suitable, I will consult you first.

Thank you ________ for your consideration in this project. I believe it will not only be financially fruitful to us both but also exciting as we watch this dream unfold.

Chris Sand

Thursday, August 14, 2003

As I suspected, the luck failed me last night. I lost $30. Actually, I gave $5 to Andras for his birthday so really I only lost $25. It had to happen sooner or later I suppose. One exciting, albeit ironic, happening is that I got a royal flush during a Texas Hold 'em game!!! No one has ever got one of those during any of our hundreds of poker games. The irony is that almost everybody else folded before the pot got big so I only won a couple dollars off it.

I finally joined Friendster, too.

I received this from a friend in Spokane who wrote: "I have long seen a connection between rap and country (all the talkin' trucker songs from the 70's, just to name one example) and it's good to see someone approach it in a real way."

Wednesday, August 13, 2003

I won $11 last night at the poker tables... Tonight I play again but I have a bad feeling about it for some reason. Yesterday I roadtripped with Mike Santana and Trish Lovgren to Lake Quinalt where we hiked for half the day. Mike, who is a lawyer, offered me his skills in writing up a plan for myself in relation to my endeavors at launching this new cd. My goal is to sell at least 10,000 records next year and that means I need to start getting this ball rolling pronto. He said, and I quote: "the shortest pencil is better than the longest memory". Well, Slippery G. has quite a short pencil. (I guess that means it's okay that he has amnesia.) Kidding aside, it's time to get all my thoughts down on paper and focused. It might be time for an agent, too.

Monday, August 11, 2003

I'm back in Olytown again after my second weekend stint in Friday Harbor. I sold $200 in merch this time which is cool, plus the $200 for playing. This is definitely a job and I feel exhausted after each show and especially by Sunday night. I never realized that playing for four hours a day feels like doing construction-- my legs and shoulders get fatigued and I'm ready for the weekend (or in this case the weekdays!) My voice is thrashed, too. This is not to say I didn't have a good time. Saturday night I got invited to go whale watching by some of audience members. There were seven of us in all: Kevin and Tina, Megan and Andrew, and Melissa and John. Melissa might have been the only one that saw a whale, but we all had a blast drinking wine and cranking Led Zeppelin, Iron Maiden, Jane's Addiction, and the White Stripes. A vibrant sunset smoldered in the west and a fat, slow-motion lunatic skateboarded off Mt. Hood from the east. We skirted the whole of San Juan Island which took two hours and then drove to Kevin's for a barbeque. Juniper and her sister, Charlotte, joined us.

Yesterday I rocked both sets, but not before almost drowning at the beginning of the second one out of sheer boredom. Fortunately a bunch of island kids filed in at 5:00 and rekindled my spark. My new casio rapman is a beauty and it felt great to pump out beats to rap over again. I keep running into people I know, too. This weekend I saw my old friend Selah and her boyfriend Darrel. Shawn, Erin, Connor, and Mike Grady also dropped by to listen to a song! I miss them.

Thursday, August 07, 2003

I'm on vacation for a night somewhere south of Olympia. My friends, Bill and Rhonda, invited me for dinner in their new cabin which is a thirty-minute drive. I'm in their guest bedroom; it's beautiful here. Earlier I fed the rainbow trout in their pond and watched the frenzied thrash/splash that ensued. Some of 'em are a couple feet long. We had spaghetti and clam-sauce for dinner.

Earlier today I ate some rancid chicken curry and got extremely nauseous and almost puked. I had to lay down for an hour or so. After that I picked up Khaela and Rjyan (aka "Cex") and drove them to Shawn's to record stuff for the new cd. Khaela harmonized on "Thanks for the Sex" and co-rapped with me on "The Beauty Myth". Rjyan left a hilarious message on my cell's answering machine which I might title "Fone Cex". We all went to the park and played some games with a blue kickball, too.

Last night was the weekly poker game and once again I came out big; I won $52 which puts my Summer's total near $200!

Tuesday, August 05, 2003

In a rather enigmatic email from my friend Jason I received this.

In a follow-up letter he wrote: "That's right Chris. The government has a new kind of weapon. It's a compact disc bearing the name 'SANDMAN CHRIS SAND' and it is going to be tested and launched directly into a comet by NASA! The project and mission is call DEEP IMPACT...The compact disc will nail a small comet that is heading near earth sometime in the next year or so. From there, the disc will travel the Universe for all eternity, or until it burns up, dwarfs out, or crashes into a celestial body!"

Don't ask me what's going on here, 'cause I'm friggin' clueless.

As for other news, I arrived home yesterday from Friday Harbor at 4 a.m. My weekend was surreal. On Friday I fought traffic for four hours until I arrived at my pal, Karl Blau's house near Anacortes. We recorded a song about a man on the moon in Karl's recording shack. Karl's yard is filled with oyster shells and chicken poop but he walks barefoot everywhere. His daughter and wife were on vacation so we had the run of the place.

The next morning I drove onto the ferry boat for $39.50 and rode to San Juan Island and the village of Friday Harbor. I arrived late and without a p.a. system which caused a cancellation of the first show. I thought they'd supply one, but no luck. This caused much stress for me and them and I spent the next three or four hours scuttling around the isla with my awesome hostess, Juniper, looking for a complete p.a. system. Thanks to her and her friends we finally pieced together a make-shift apparatus and jetted back for the second show which ended up going well. That night Juniper and I hung out with her New Zealand friend, Wocka.

In the morning she and I drove to Wocka's for breakfast. Wocka's wife, Stephanie, was there, too, and we ate a delicious breakfast that Wocka cooked up.

To make up for the lost hours of the day before, I played for six hours on Sunday. The first half of the day was filled with more conservative, tourist types and the second half with funky island kids. I sold $50 in merch and was paid $200 to cover the eight hours played and hopped the last ferry of the night at 10:15. This ferry stopped at Lopez Island and Orcas Island and in the two hours or so it took to get to the mainland I wrote a new song for the Slippery G. album called, "Tiny Spy Cam", which is about voyeurism.

Monday, August 04, 2003

I'm back from my weekend gig in Friday Harbor. More soon I promise.