Friday, December 31, 2004
Thursday, December 30, 2004
"We are very sad and in a daze as many of the places we visted and loved so very much are completely destroyed...sweet Thai people and their makeshift shops are all gone...there is no feeling to describe the shock and disbelief...so we are trying to figure out what to do next..there is talk of disease spreading, but we are very far north and are hoping that the relief efforts will contain further disaster..."
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I finished my tiling job, this morning, and got paid $325 (this included a $50 tip!). Then I went to the chiropractor. I'm fairly exhausted and had better sleep while I can. The next two days are going to be off the chain!!
Tuesday, December 28, 2004
"We are ok...we were on a boat when it hit, but in the gulf of thailand so we did not feel it...in fact i think you in the states found out about the magnitude of the quake before we did...we were on a train heading north for 30 hours! it was not until a couple of teenagers from bangkok filled us in and we saw the local thai newspaper...what devastation! we are going to give blood today here in chaing mai... we are very safe...thanks so much for your concern!"
My best pal from middle-school, Alan, lives in Thailand. I have yet to get a reply from him, but he lives inland so he's probably dry. I send out prayers to all who have been shaken and broken by the mighty tsunamis in Asia. How terrifying it must've been!! Wow. Enough said.
According to the clock, my birthday has begun. I'm 34. Not quite middle-aged, but not exactly green. Jesus died at age 33, right? Not me. I'm like a Rolex watch. Samsonite luggage. Keith Richards. Duracell. Then again, Jesus pissed off a lot more rich people than I have. Thus, death. My personal philosophy is to welcome all the rich bastards into my arms and then squeeze them like bees until my teeth fall out.
I've been tiling all day today. More tomorrow. I feel a cold coming on.
Sunday, December 26, 2004
Saturday, December 25, 2004
Here's some more good news, though--Oregon Dept. of Kick Ass (Odoka), whom I've worked with before, have announced their intentions of filming a documentary on me/my travels. The filming would begin in less than a week, and might carry over into the Summer or Fall.. The best part of the process would be cruising around with Bill and Vanessa, and finding mischief to be part of.
I spent the first half of today scraping mold and cracked paint off the ABC House bathroom ceiling. Then I puttied and primed the walls. At 7 pm, or so, Trisha came over. We cooked a meal and then rented Napoleon Dynomite, which was really good. When she left I gave her eight "Sandman" t-shirts to send to her Cuban friends. She's making a big care-package. If I ever get depressed again, just remind me that someone in Cuba might be wearing my ugly shirt. I wish it were legal to visit.
I'm burning the 3 a.m. oil again. Merry Christmas!
Friday, December 24, 2004
I shan't say more about this day! Let's just say luck and potential poured in all directions. It was a rare moustachioed hat dance of a day. A splendorous 27-hours of sparkly meteor eruptions. Sevens. Cherries. Lemons. Diamonds. All of it. More! The HAT is off. The red monkey is free to eat the red monkey-fruit!!! The mice can breathe, eat, breed, go to bed. It was a good day.
And to top it all off, check out this article in today's Olympian regarding the New Year's show.
Oh, and also, to top off the topping I just tossed off--I signed a record deal with Rock Ridge Records today.
These are just blips in the big picture picnic of cryptic pixel sticks regarding today (or really yesterday at this point, but nevermind). We swap nuts with monkeys and mice. We are happy for a day. We dream, dream, dream, dream... Merry Christmas Eve's Eve. Dec. 23rd, 2004.
Thursday, December 23, 2004
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Wow,
I just received a copy of ‘the long ride home’. Once in a while you find something that you really needed. It’s one of those things that are not worth describing because words really won’t do it any justice.
I’ve been going through one of those really unfun transitional periods. Recently things have gotten worse (some strange streak of crap-luck). Ironically I’ll be starting my own long ride home soon. I don’t quite know how to feel about it… all I can really acknowledge is the fact that I’ll be around the ones who love and support me again.
At any rate, the song I’m completely glued to is ‘Christ-bearer’s blues’; I can’t get enough of it! It’s exactly what I needed.
Thanks
r______
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Tuesday, December 21, 2004
Here are two more letters:
#1
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Dude, that was totally awesome. . .We almost didn't make it to the show, as E_____ had been up all night and I had been sick, but luckily we sucked it up and pulled it together, much to our delight. I think I've said it before and I'm sure I'll say it again: your music means a lot to me. My two best friends at College dropped out after last year with some serious coke problems, and while "White Line Highway" (is that what it's called?) isn't really biographical in terms of their situation, it resonates so much that hearing it sung is bittersweet indeed. And that's just one example. Of resonation, or whatever it is that makes me really like your songs.
L_____
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#2
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I lent one of your C.D.'s to my friend and she LOVES it. She said it is all she listens to, and it brings her hours of joy. I forget the name of the C.D. but is the one with two C.D.'s on it. It has Twelve Foot Tires and a Twelve Year Old Girlfriend, and of course, Persian Den of Sin.
K____
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(Enough self-aggrandizement!)
Tomorrow's a busy day--I'd better crash and dream for a spell.
Sunday, December 19, 2004
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Hi, Family,
Mom had what looked like a miracle breakthrough yesterday. She woke up aware and was even able to walk a little with the help of a walker! We moved her into a beautiful new personal care home in Ronan yesterday afternoon. She's the first resident. It's a stunning place. ten blocks east of the Dairy Queen in Ronan. Mom has her own private room.
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As you may know, Grandma has not been doing too well these last few months. I've been meaning to update you all on her health for a while now. So as not to confuse you, though, my North Dakota grandparents are still as healthy as horses. I'm fortunate to have three, spunky grandparents left.
In other news--I moved back into the ABC House for my final two weeks in Olytown. I love it here so much. I love Olympia in general. I just had apple pie a la mode and coffee at the Clipper with my friend Jasper and pondered the nostalgia I'm beginning to feel.
The show last night at Sirens in Port Townsend was excellent. If I could string together more shows like that I'd not be the pauper I've become. They fed me a delicious salmon dinner and paid me $150. The crowd bought $110 worth of merchandise and listened attentively--even though it was Friday night. It's a workout being a one-dude act for three hours to a crowd that's inebriated and wants to socialize. The first set I used every trick in the book to keep the crowd riveted. The second one I relaxed and let the audience cavort. To my pleasant surprise I had in attendance a group of fans who'd seen my last Port Townsend show and were now bona fide Sandfans (the Slippery Goodstuff album is popular there). Thus, I felt supported throughout the evening even when the more obnoxious bar patrons started hooliganizing and shenanigating.
Saturday, December 18, 2004
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Chris,
i was scootin through crimethinc.com's site, looking at nifty stuff, and saw you mentieond... checked our your site (awesome music...) :-) and i have a strangestrange question - my friend nick, a crazy lad in spokane who knows all thismusic-stuff and makes wacky cd's for people (guy i'm Cc'ing this to), made me atape a few years ago after one of those sad-breakup-thangs...kind of a 'cheer uplittle davey cause a girl broke his heart' tape w/ a random mix on it...somelounge'y stuff, flaming lips, some alt-tex-mex, peacemakers, kids-in-the-hallspoken-word, etc - weird, assorted voodoo stuff...and this little ditty by thisguy about a dog he had named 'nutcrunch' and a friend named 'backstab...'and after like 5 years that tune goes thru my head at odd times, and i alwayslaugh and it has pulled me outta the dumps at peculiar times...and hearing your tunes on yer site made me think that might've been you...am iright/wrong/utterly misled and nuts? lemme know if you can...and keep on amigo...beautiful, amazing stuff. :-)
peace, tofu grease...d_______
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My answer was yup--"Heartbreak Was Her Name" off of Roll Out, Cowboy (1996).
Friday, December 17, 2004
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dear mr.sandman
we are not very complex people especialy my mother but when she saw you on the public access tv, well lets just say if you ever get divorced you know where to go;). anyways im 18 my name is t______ and my moms name is s____. i am here to tell you that you have a unique voice and i would greatly enjoy it if you would come to virginia, we are origionaly from texas so the whole rapping cowboy bit is a little new. anyways we are simple people with simple visions and i would grealty appreciate it if you could do this as a chrismas gift to my mother. seeing as i cannot find a gift that has made her laugh as much as you have.
t______, your soon to be biggest fan
Thursday, December 16, 2004
Wednesday, December 15, 2004
As for me, I'm just busy packing and preparing--and sleeping at Nina's while she's gone. I use the hot tub nightly underneath the drizzly drab sky and smile at my good fortune: aliveness!
I'm luckier than some. Make that most. I hope I never take this for granted.
Monday, December 13, 2004
So anyway, this weekend of performing was another financial bust. Being as strapped for cash as I've been creates a vicious cycle where instead of being able to appreciate the pure poetry of being able to play new places and meet new people, I guage my enjoyment of the show on how much money I make or how many cds I sell. In turn I get more desperate and choose to play worse shows. That said, I expected to make at least $400 and instead got $40. That means that, after booking expenses, gasoline, automobile wear-and-tear, eating out, and time lost doing jobs that could pay even minimum wage, I lost my damn shorts. I can't take this impoverished lifestyle anymore. I hate myself and everyone in the music business!!! We are idiots. And the worst part is that I'm actually doing better than most; at least I don't have to split my $40 between other bandmates.
As an exercise, though, I'll take off my poverty-goggles and recount the weekend from a gentler perspective. The first show, in Bellingham, got canceled due to a heroine-smoking soundman who unexplicably decided that he wanted to go home early. Somehow we got talked into playing a free show at someone's house. Fifty people crammed into this person's living room and watched the Lucky Devil Girly Show with me singing and rapping in between numbers. It was spectacular, truth be told. The audience was enthralled. Beautiful naked women and beer and nachos and a rapping cowboy from Xanadu. We made the universe a better place to live for a small moment in time. I crashed at my friend Nic's and drove to Seattle in the morning.
In Seattle I met up with my cousin, Kirby, and his wife Megan. They were shopping for Persian rugs downtown and I joined them for a couple hours. Next I met up with my friend, Heidi, for enchiladas. Then I played the show at the Tractor Tavern. Another lady-pal, Kerry, came and brought her friends. My performance that night was shaky, but fine. The crowd responded as generously as ever, and some danced throughout the set. The Jesus Chords were solid and magnificent. The burlesquers gave it their ALL (HOT!). Howlin' Hobbit and Local 360 warmed it up and nailed it down. Baby Gramps was there. At the end of the show the Girlies dragged me up on stage and made me be Santa Clause and hand out toys. They had very nice pasties and glitter. When I got home at 4 a.m. I looked in the mirror and saw that I had bright red lipstick on my forehead. "I have made it," I said to myself. "I am the Senator of Rock and Roll. Can I please get a job at Wal-Mart now."
Saturday, December 11, 2004
I killed time today shopping at thrift stores. Value Village had its Ten-Year-Anniversary-Blowout Sale today--everything was half off--so I bought eighty-five pillow cases. I also found some holiday gifts, a "live" Jackson 5 casette-tape, a couple t-shirts, and a Robin Hood vhs-tape starring Errol Flynn from 1938.
I've slowly been letting people know that I'm moving away from the Northwest. It's a sad topic of discussion that I don't enjoy. I'd rather slip away into the soggy, foggy dew and just pretend that I'm on another long tour...and will return. Maybe I will. God knows.
Thursday, December 09, 2004
Sunday, December 05, 2004
More about the shows later. I earned $275.00 total for both, plus $280.00 more in merchandise!
Friday, December 03, 2004
Sandman and Friends Bring Hip-Hopera to the Capitol Theater New Year’s Eve
Olympia, WA, December 31, 2004 --For a sexy and subversive way to celebrate New Year’s Eve, get on down to the Capitol Theater to see A Year in the Life of Slippery Goodstuff, a punk-rock-country-rap musical by Chris “Sandman” Sand and Nerviz Productions. This is the first Olympia performance of the play, which was originally performed at the Minneapolis Fringe Fest last summer. Also featured will be Log Hog, the Lucky Devil Girly Show, DJ Whistle Punk, and a 21-and-over beer garden. Parental discretion advised.
The musical follows the trail of an average joe who loses his memory and recreates himself as a Western-themed rapping porn star named "Slippery Goodstuff." After many sexual misadventures, Slippery starts a highly profitable network marketing company called Supersperm, Inc. He continues womanizing until he hits a wall during an encounter with a rap outlaw named Cindy Wonderful. . .and her girlfriend, Sarah Adorable. Shocked and awed by Cindy and Sarah's fierce sexuality, Slippery has a revelation about the meaning of true sexiness. In a stunning turn of events, he remembers the painful experience that triggered his amnesia; stops lying about his wealth, stamina, and exaggerated size; and ends his ultimately unprofitable quest to screw the planet.
Reviewing the “Slippery Goodstuff” soundtrack, released in 2003, Spokesman-Review journalist Isamu Jordan wrote, “It’s a lot more 2Pac than 2 Live Crew, cowboy hat and all. Sandman is socially and politically conscious and overflowing with toilet talk. . . . As far as the Northwest goes, no one [else] has had a compatible marriage between hip-hop and country since Sir-Mix-A-Lot's 'Square Dance Rap’.”
A Year in the Life of Slippery Goodstuff can be seen at the Capitol Theater, 206 5th Avenue, downtown Olympia, on December 31st. Doors Open at 8:30 p.m. $7 ($5 for Olympia Film Society members).
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Thursday, December 02, 2004
We've been running on fumes for a while now. We just don't know how to refill the gas tank. And stealing Iraq's oil isn't the right answer. In fact, oil/gas should not even be part of the equation. We need brain-power, heart-power, wind-power, sun-power. Gun powder is so 1851. Oil is so 1984. Been there, killed that. Give me a North Dakota pancake supper, anyday. That's where the real change lies. Have faith in that--not in Mussolini's tough-guy tea parties.
Wednesday, December 01, 2004
The flyer for the Slippery Goodstuff play is done. 'Twas created by the genius, Nashville-to-Olympia artist, Giles O'Dell. If you'd wish to see it please leave your email under the "comments" section of this blog, and I'll send it to you. It will amaze you.
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
I've reached a financial crisis and will very likely be defaulting on my credit card debt starting this month. Ouch! I'm becoming a back-to-the-lander by default (no pun intended). I'm ashamed that it's come to this. After my next five shows, though, I should be able to pay off all my friends, which is more important to me than Visa. I suppose if I had more integrity, I'd immediately cancel all 2005 shows and get a wage-earning job. It's confusing. Either way I'll have to find a job, but hopefully one with flexibility.
Monday, November 29, 2004
Actually, though, I love it here. My parents are good to me.
Saturday, November 27, 2004
To sum up the Thanksgiving Holiday... the relatives and I played board games, sang songs, drove around, ate, lounged about in our socks, and conversed. My three-year-old cousin/niece, Hannah Joy, has a little crush on me which tickled everyone, especially me. She and I spent some quality time hunting for vicious dinosaurs and reading fairy-tales. Her little sister, Liljana, who's walking everywhere now, was more interested in the cats and ice-cream.
Also, this weekend, I acquired two new cowboy hats. The first I found at Salvation Army in downtown Spearfish. Gramps paid the two bucks for it. The second Uncle Josh gave me (after disapproving of the appearance of the first). It's one of his old team-roping hats, but it's still in good shape. Both are panama-woven Bailey's. And they both fit! It's typically hard for me to find size seven-and-a-halves anywhere, but in one day I got two.
Lastly, 319 Joe is back in my world. I drove him five hours today, enroute to NoDak, with Mom in the passenger seat. He stalled in a K-Mart parking lot at one point and gave me a scare, but after twenty minutes of cajoling, he finally caught spark and gallantly galloped home.
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
The train-ride was cozy. Trisha drove me to the station yesterday. We ate crepes and piroushkies at Pike's Place Market, prior to departure. I left the VW pickup at Madrona Autoworks in Olympia. I'm so done with that ugly piece of beige crap. I gave the mechanic the title, so perhaps the four-month curse (which conceivably commenced the day I got it) has been lifted. Or at least shifted to another sorry sucker, trucker, plucked-duck motherscratcher.
And, tomorrow, to make the prophecy/poetry complete (see my astrologer's prediction from the November 16th post), I will be reunited with 319 Joe, whom I parked in Spearfish two months ago before hitch-hiking to Denver, where I then flew to the East Coast to start my tour with my pal Stephan Said (pronounced Si-eed). Aka Stephan Smith.
Sunday, November 21, 2004
Friday, November 19, 2004
The bad news-- someone jacked the battery and starter out of my bio-diesel pickup, while I was on tour, which ups the mechanic's fee to over $500 to get it running again. I pray it's worth the trouble.
Wednesday, November 17, 2004
Tuesday, November 16, 2004
The train-ride itself was good. I read a couple hundred pages of the Illuminatus trilogy. Jonah "Blandow" Carpenter picked me up in Seattle, along with Alex Stevens who had arrived the day before. Jonah found $30 on the ground outside the train-yard and treated Alex and me to breakfast with it. I puttered around Olympia, yesterday afternoon, and then spent last night at Nina's.
Now it's Tuesday, and it's raining. My morale is still searching for a toehold on Life's mildewed climbing-wall. However, check this-- my astrologist, Melissa Mooncat, has this to say:
"Took a peak at your stars and a BIG JUPITERIAN UPSWING Is just around the corner! By JOVE! November 24th has Jupiter (EXPAND, Adventure, Seek out your TRUTH, Travel) moving into your house of LEO! (CREATING, shining like the SUN, performing, being in front of 'God and EVERYBODY!'...)."
I will wait until then to make any drastic life decisions. That's what's going on for me, though-- I feel like I need to figure out so much right now. Where to live? What job to apply for? What kind of music to write and focus on? If I had money, and time to kill, I would hire Nerviz to help produce my next hip-hop project-- Sand Pan! However, I realize that I'm sort of gray-haired to continue trying to build a lucrative career as the next, great underground rapper. That might sound cynical, but I doubt 17-year-old kids-- the ones who predominantly support rap (or punk) music-- would fully relate to my twisted tale of a Pagan demigod who blows dollar bills out his butt. Actually, now that I frame it that way, 17-year-olds might be the ones who'll appreciate it the most. See? I've just spun myself in a perfect circle, and I'm back to square one. The geometry of catatonia! (Henry Miller wrote, "More obscene than anything is inertia. More blasphemous than the bloodiest oath is paralysis.") The boldest move I could make right now would be to tap into the Big, Friendly Folk circuit. I'd focus mostly on learning a bunch more cowboy-poems and country songs to supplement my folk-rap set. To the middle-aged crowd I'm a breath of fresh air; they see me as young and savvy and safe. I'm a bridge to their children's generation and they don't mind paying me fairly. This would be a saner life for me, but not as exhilarating and fantastically creative as writing layered, Tom Robbins-like, hip-hoperas. Not making money, though, is grinding my country confidence into the ground. I suppose I can always return to my bizarro rap rhythms when I can afford that luxury. I forget, sometimes, that there's no rush.
Saturday, November 13, 2004
p.s. Mom baked an apple pie, tonight, as a sort of goodbye treat, and it totally rocked.
Friday, November 12, 2004
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
"Anything worth painting, is worth painting red."
It's true. His house is red, his tool-shed is red, his axes are red, his tractor is red, his barn, of course, is red, and his hammer is red. I could go on and on. The siding that I've been putting up, even though it's not his house, will soon be painted this same color red.
I used to think that I was the next Bob Dylan. I always wondered where I might find my Woody Guthrie/mentor figure. I recently realized I'm not Bob Dylan or even close. My lineage is luckier, though, for my own Grandpa is my "Woody Guthrie." He's no folk-singer, or famous personality. He's just a chivalrous and humble horseman who likes to paint things red for some reason. He's sure to be the first person elected to my own, personal "Sandman Hall of Fame." Well, he might have to be elected as the second, now that I think about it. My other Grandpa--Grandpa Herak--will probably be first (he died in 1987). There was, perhaps, never a gentler Croation-farmer Soul than he.
Tonight Grandpa, Grandma, and Aunt Olga came over to play Whist. The women-folk gave me and Grandpa a firm flogging at the table. Afterwords Gramps bequeathed to me his old, wool jacket. You can guess what color it is.
Other Grandpa facts:
1. He was a WWII war hero, who still despises all wars, since he knows first-hand how brutal, classist, and mostly unnecessary they are.
2. His mom died shortly after giving birth to him eighty-five years ago.
3. He was a full-time sheepherder as a young boy.
4. He boxed in college. That's how his nose got flattened.
(Coming soon... "Grandma facts.")
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
Last night I had dinner with Grandma and Grandpa. They gave me a beautiful "ranch" quilt they made twelve years ago when I was about to get married to Marie. They saved it for eight years and were going to gift me with it when I was supposed to marry Nina. I guess they realized that I might be a bachelor for life. It's seriously the finest quilt I've ever seen.
Monday, November 08, 2004
As Willie sez: "Let's raise up our glasses against evil forces. Whiskey for my men, and beer for my horses."
Sunday, November 07, 2004
If the hundred-year-life is trisected then I will be middle-aged in two months. Today, then, I decide to live to be two-hundred. I can't grow up yet (nor maybe ever)!!! My parents will be alarmed, but it's not their fault, 'cause see, well, Capricorns grow in reverse of other zodiac signs. When I turn sixty-six I promise to examine the consequences of my decision, and, if deemed appropriate, renegotiate my life-span.
- Michael Keaton (7)
- JFK, Jr. (1)
- Dudley Moore (1)
- Hugh Grant (1)
- Woody Guthrie (3)
- Jakob Dylan (2)
- The first drummer for Styx (1)
- Neil Young (1)
- Tom Hanks (2)
- Jerry Seinfeld (1)
- Charles Manson (4)
- Jesus Christ (1)
- Elvis Presley (2)
- Peter O'Toole (1)
- Paul McCartney (1)
- Matthew McConaughey (2)
- Lou Reed (1)
Comments? Click below-- it's easy!
Saturday, November 06, 2004
Whoever says that North Dakota doesn't have any culture should come out to a Grassy Butte chili feed and observe the locals as they auction off gooseberry pies to the grinning oil rig workers and elderly ranch ladies. Grassy Butte probably only has fifty residents, but it's obvious that each one of 'em has deep-cut culture and soul.
By the way, I found out last night that I have a job interview in Olympia next Monday. I'd better buy my train ticket tonight. If I don't get that job I'm trying for there, I'll take the next Empire Maker back here that I can. If I do get it, well, then I'm outta here for a good long while.
Friday, November 05, 2004
Killdeer Mountain is like a grassy, prehistoric bridge that connects North Dakota with infinity. The rattlesnakes are asleep until Spring, and the beaver are probably hibernating, too.
I four-wheeled around some after the work was done.
Thursday, November 04, 2004
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
(My parents are watching West Wing now, and I can't concentrate to write more...)
Ok, I'll try. So, the Evangelicals beat the Slackers. Karl Rove says that four million more Evangelicals voted this year than last election. The Catholic Church has joined ranks, too. Heartland Republicans don't seem to relish abortions and gay marriages (or New Englanders). These aren't the core values of the Democratic Party, either, of course. Somehow, though, "tolerant" has become synonymous with "immoral."
WWWRW?! (What would Will Rogers write?)
I wish I knew. Here are a couple of his quotes from yesteryear, though:
"People talk peace. But men give their life's work to war. It won't stop 'til there is as much brains and scientific study put to aid peace as there is to promote war."
"We will never have true civilization until we have learned to recognize the rights of others."
Monday, November 01, 2004
PS-- Don't forgit to vote. Nov. 2nd!!!!
Sunday, October 31, 2004
My fourth major tour of 2004 is over, and I am at my parents' place in Killdeer, North Dakota. I owe a lot of people money and I will be working here for the next four weeks in order to start paying off some debts. Tomorrow I will recount the final days of my travels with Stephan Said (aka Stephan Smith).
Thursday, October 28, 2004
Yesterday was cool. I got to be on a panel called Peace, Patriotism, and Dissent: Democracy in the Balance at Harper College. I performed "Scapegoat Song" and got to talk a little about the role scapegoating plays in regards to imperialism and murder-- currently and historically. How whimsical, eh?! Jeepers, I'm ready for a vacation in Oahu... I think we all are. This election season is a soul-sucker. I'm seriously considering only singing Bobby McFerrin's "Don't Worry, Be Happy" tonight and then offering free erotic massages to whomever buys a pillow case or cd.
P.S. Eminem's new anti-war video is online: http://www.gnn.tv/content/emosh_hi.html. For better or worse, he's our generation's Bob Dylan. I'm filled with both admiration and loathing. He wears his RAGE like a chainsaw head-band and bleeds jewels into my father's salad. It takes hours to separate the chopped onions from the diamonds. I wish I had his money.
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
Sunday, October 24, 2004
Friday, October 22, 2004
Naomi Wolf, The Beauty Myth
Yesterday was Love Your Body Day. Today is Dehypnotize Your Brain Day. Easier said than done; everybody around me looks like they're marching blank-faced into the red eye of the apocalypse. It's freaky.
What's so funny about Global Justice?!
On further thought, it's probably just me. A dip in a cool, mountain lake would do me good right about now. Tonight it's Baltimore, then back to DC where I anticipate a great, lively, fun-filled fiesta at the Wonderland Club! My friends, Nana and Lauris, have collaborated on making this show a good one. They are kind and generous with their time.
My mom turned 59 yesterday. Happy birthday, Mom, and all my love.
Thursday, October 21, 2004
Here's a temporary itinerary for the next few days:
Oct. 21, Thurs., Washington, DC @ The Electric Maid, 8 pm. $10. Address: 228 Carrol Ave.
Oct. 22, Fri., Baltimore @ Mojo Room, 9:30 pm, $6. (410) 325-7427.
Oct. 23, Sat., Washington, DC @ The Wonderland (1101 Keny St. NW) pass-the-hat.
Stephan and I will be doing an in-store performance at Revolution Records in DC at 4 pm on Saturday too. That address is 4215 Connecticut Ave. NW.
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
My mom, sensing my mild depression, wrote me these words:
"Sing because you love to sing, Chris. Sing for yourself and those of us who delight in your humane and lyrical spirit. Nothing else really matters. Love, Mom."
She's a treasure. And so is my dad who lent me $1000 to manufacture my "Live" cd! And so are my friends around the country who lift up my spirits and feed my stomach and help me set up shows and let me sleep on their beds or sofas. And so are my housemates back in Oly who are letting me stay living there even though I can never pay rent on time, and I eat their food, and make lewd comments about them or their girlfriends (just kidding).
Ok, time to eat some lunch-type food.
Monday, October 18, 2004
On the bright side, I'm really enjoying getting to know Stephan Smith. We've had a lot of time to talk during the last twenty-four hours. His life story is one of the most fascinating ones I've ever heard.
Saturday, October 16, 2004
The show last night was crowded-- 150 people. They had to turn away another fifty. The majority of the people were there for Mirah and were probably glad when I finally finished my lengthy set. There was a mild pillow case buying frenzy, but ultimately I didn't do very good on merch sales considering there were so many people.
The baseball game is on-- Yankees are killing the Red Sox. I run out of time in thirty seconds. Bye!
Thursday, October 14, 2004
The show last night was unexpectedly crowded, considering that the Presidential debates were going on and the Red Sox were playing the Yankees again. My friends, Nima, Amanda and Asghar, are to thank for bringing out at least twenty of their friends. The night opened with the punk legend Pete Cassani doing a set without his band, the Peasants. Then I played. I invited Nima up for the second half of my set so he could beatbox and rap with me. He even backed me up on guitar for a rendition of "When the Cyclone Struck." The highlight, though, was trading verses with Nima during "Persian Den of Sin." Nima is of Persian heritage (aka Iranian) and he has a great rap he wrote about being as such. After each of my verses he'd bust a verse of his own while I, then, beatboxed for him. I think we blew some people's minds!! Serious. Chris Chandler and Jo Smith ended the evening with their mad, lyrical, musical collage of inspired genius. They, too, blew some minds. This is nothing new to Chandler who's been doing this for sixteen years. Check out his website: www.chrischandler.org. His a giant amongst rambling troubadors like myself.
Last night I left my casio rapman in a woman's car who drove me back to Amanda and Nima's... Oops-- gotta run. I'll finish the story later.
Tuesday, October 12, 2004
Tomorrow, I have a feeling, will go much better.
Monday, October 11, 2004
The show last night went great. It was organized by my pal, and Doug's son, Owen Money. His band is called the Saviours and they rock hard-- country and punk. My sweet friend of ten years, Senayit Tomlinson, also performed. She plays a 12-string and writes the prettiest rock ballads you've ever heard. She's why I'm in New Hampshire right now. She and her partner, Jeff, are house-sitting her parent's 200-yr.-old cottage and 100-acre horse habitat. One of the horses, Andy, has a butt-rash that Senayit has to doctor daily. Tomorrow she and Jeff will drive me to Boston for the first of two shows at Passim.
Friday, October 08, 2004
Then we watched the debates-- Kerry vs. Bush. The news channel said it was a draw, which didn't seem quite right.
Thursday, October 07, 2004
Going back in time... 319 Joe did well, getting me to Spearfish, SD, where I met up with my aunt and uncle, Ken and Christi, who drove me to their ranch in Longmont Colorado. Ken was a professional rodeoer (team roping) for nine years before becoming a horse veterinarian. He let me borrow his red, canvas rope bag to haul and consolidate my scattered boxes of cds for the plane ride. I finally got to meet my cute, little 1st-cousin-once-removed, Lilliana, who is one-yr-old. She and her sister, Hanna (age 4 1/2), are the daughters of my cousin Kelly Sue and her husband Alex. Good times. Good people. Good split pea soup.
Rhetorical question: Is talking in detail about relatives on a web-journal, the blog equivalent of forcing the Culligan Man to look through your stack of polaroids from last week's family reunion?
Monday, October 04, 2004
Yep, this next month will be filled with much trans-American traveling.
St. Christopher, pray for us.
Mother Mary, pray for us.
319 JOE, yr a good little car.
Friday, October 01, 2004
Wednesday, September 29, 2004
Grandma's doin' better. I hung out with her all afternoon. She's a little delirious, still-- she insisted that she saw a concert of mine on cable last night. Maybe she's got me confused with Kanye West or something. That's cool.
Fire Suppression: Malheur Helitack Rappel Crew.
Carpenter: Sunrise Construction.
Outdoor Guide: University of Montana.
This is boring to do.
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Saturday, September 25, 2004
I drove her to the Charlo Viking High School Varsity game at 7:30-- she was dizzy but managed to hang in there until the end of the game, which happened to be an exciting one! Bo, my first cousin, is the team's quarterback, and he threw two touchdowns and ran for a third. They beat Noxon 20-14. Jake, Bo's younger brother, also made an appearance. He's a freshman, though, so he only gets a few minutes.
I'm staying at my friends', Tom and Karin's, house tonight. Karin and I were ruminating on the bewildering ill-mysticism of Dubya and the Neocons. This nation is being hypnotized by something. What, what, what we ask... Perhaps fear-- that tragic unmagic anti-aphrodesiac? Perhaps psychic exhaustion from killjoy occupations? The debts we incrue and the stresses that ensue? Guilt from centuries of racist rationalizations? Unacknowledged antisemitism? Internalized loathing? Unexamined inferiority complexes? The preference of the quick-fix (pills, scapegoats, murder) over counseling/meditation/flower essences? Television without vision? Clogged arteries, chakras, airwaves? Ingrained imperialism? Time-released amnesia? Christianity minus the mulleted Jew who liked to raise hell with arrogant Empire Makers? I mean, wtf?
Who are these fugly architects of war? These wizardly channel-changers? These cowardly corporate clowns? These maniacal, suburban bloggaholics?
...they are you and I, of course, and we're as much to blame as the sheistiest hypocrite hypnotist in Washington if we don't figure something out soon, soon, soon--
and do it with joy, joy, joy--
and make it last, last, last--
and remember, remember, remember--
that life is cool, cool, cool--
and so are wee, wee, wee!
...All the way home.
(On the count of "three" you will climb out of your sleeping bag and march to the local convenience store for coffee and a banana.)
Wednesday, September 22, 2004
Yes, Sandman Live and Suspicious! has arrived and is available for purchase. Already, a Chicago label, who Andras gave a pre-copy to, has shown interest in re-releasing it come January. I can't call this a "bidding war" yet, because they're the first financially stable label to get one, but it's a comforting sign that this cd has legs.
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I just wrote this poem. I call it...
Gift Horse
Walk on, little soldiers; march forth into the battleground of sound. Raise your thousand soul-axes. March forward. Fight hard, little John Kerrys and Theresa Heinzes. Shoot straight.
Fear not, slender Davids. Goliath is a fake, and an Outlaw!! Slay him with your sharpened pens, your heavy rhymes, your pounding couplets. Dig trenches and dump in them the remains of all regrets, half-steps, and vain sensitivities.
Bite the head off of the Sidewinder and make drool of its dreary oil. Spit it out and pack mud into its broken mouth. Heal it. Piss on your cracked feet. Walk a mile, barefoot, on burnt turf. Bow to Ichiro Suzuki, Barry Bonds, Michael Moore, Molly Ivins-- and return to me with frizzled hair and sunburnt brow.
Sleep with the lover you love. Make love; be love; see love; seek love; freak love. Keep walking, love. And don't ever forget to thank love. Its teeth are long, strong, green, and powerful. Like a horse from God (fierce and kindly). Without reins, without bridle, and without bit.
Monday, September 20, 2004
Sunday, September 19, 2004
Now Syd and I are back at her half-brother's place in Langley. We'll amble back to my beloved, tragic USA tomorrow.
Saturday, September 18, 2004
Friday, September 17, 2004
I dug dirt, operated a jackhammer, and ran a chainsaw, today, for seven hours. Tomorrow will be my last day at that jobsite, since we're almost done. Then I'll drive to Canada for an evening or two with Sydney, return, and prepare for my ten-week journey to Montana, North Dakota, the East Coast, the South, the Midwest, and then North Dakota, and finally Montana again. I'll move back to Olympia in late November and search for another job and prepare for another tour.
Wednesday, September 15, 2004
Tonight I'm having dinner with Sydney and her girls.
As I mentioned before, I left my cell phone charger on San Juan Island. Instead of worrying about it and waiting to get it mailed to me, I went to the mall last night and picked up a new, fancy flip-top celly. I'd just fulfilled my two-year obligation to Verizon which meant I got a free, new one. It's sleek, sexy, and silver. My old one was bulky and grey.
Tuesday, September 14, 2004
This package contains fifty compilation cds from the "Musicians to Oust Bush" project. I may have mentioned this before but Utah Phillips, Greg Brown, Andras Jones, Stephan Smith, and myself all have song contributions along with a dozen others. If you'd like one of these cds leave a comment underneath this journal entry w/ your name and address. You're welcome to send a couple dollars to help with shipping expenses, but I'm not allowed to sell and make a profit on them. (If you order one of my new Sandman Live and Suspicious! cds then I'll toss a M.O.B. compilation cd in there, upon request.) The goal is to get these compilations into the hands of as many people who would appreciate and play them as possible. Radio deejays are especially encouraged to solicit. I must admit that I'm a little embarrassed by my cheesy two-year-old recording of "Scapegoat Song", but other people's songs are really top-notch and worth hearing. Utah Phillip's two spoken word pieces are particularly sweet.
If you want a copy let me know. And in the case you wish to send one or two greenback dollars to help with shipping costs, my mailing address is: Chris Sand / 105 N. Sherman / Olympia, WA 98502.
Monday, September 13, 2004
Mud is heavier than dirt and it sticks to the shovel. Nasty duty. I'll be shoveling mud all week if my back can take it.
This weekend I played three shows at a tavern in Friday Harbor which is a small town on San Juan Island. These shows are a lot of work because I have to play close to fifty songs to football-watching tourists who don't always appreciate my performances. One guy made a scene about how he wished I'd "shut the hell up." Other people, though, loved it. For example, a table of five middle-aged women tipped me $50-- they liked my bravado. Here's another highlight-- after I rapped "Honky from Montana" (which mentions that I'm from Charlo, Montana) a woman from the small crowd exclaimed, "I'm from Charlo, too!!" She's close friends with my uncles John and Tom. Only about three-hundred people live in Charlo. Her name's Lori Foust.
A big bummer from the trip was that the bar owner and I hadn't communicated adequately. He thought he was paying me $50 per show and I was sure it was going to be $100. He gave me what I requested but said he can't afford to bring me back next weekend.
Then I left my cell-phone charger on the island, as well as the book I was reading and $40. Oy vey. Oh, I should mention that the hostel I stayed at is incredibly cool. If you're ever on San Juan Island you can't go wrong at the Juniper Lane Guest House. My good friend Juniper runs it. It's high-class, yet affordable and cozy.
I'd better hit the hay now.
Sunday, September 12, 2004
Friday, September 10, 2004
About Sandman: Punk Planet wrote, "Chris Sand is our troubadour for the 21st century." Also known as Montana's Rappin' Cowboy, Chris "Sandman" Sand's music is heavily influenced by both the cowboy poetry/western stylings of his ranch relatives and the old-school hip hop that permeated the Flathead Indian Reservation (where he was raised) during the mid-1980s. A third influence would have to be the d.i.y./punk scene in Olympia, Washington, where Sandman moved to in the mid-90s to begin his musical career. Sandman has performed or recorded with a spectrum of diverse artists such as Michael Franti & Spearhead, Calvin Johnson, Laura Love, Dan Bern, CEX, Baby Gramps, and Mirah, to name a few.
"As far as the Northwest goes, no one has had as compatible a marriage between hip-hop and country since Sir-Mix-A-Lot." The Spokesman-Review
"Sandman produces a thoroughly contemporary and unromanticized vision of the itinerant minstrel." No Depression
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Today, and for the next couple weeks, I will be landscaping for $9/hr. The $20/hr. job I was preparing for was literally too good to be true, and it fell through.
Thursday, September 09, 2004
I've had some snafus with the Sandman Live and Suspicious! cd artwork and it's taking a while longer than I'd expected to get the ball rolling at the manufacturers. Hopefully by Friday it'll be set and ready.
Yesterday I wrote about wanting to compile a book of my lyrics. Today, interestingly, a music writer friend whose work I admire told me I should seriously think about writing a book about my travels as "North America's Rappin' Cowboy". He says he has connections with some publishers whom he thinks might bite, and he offered to help with the editing, too. Though I'm honored, I would feel like such a turd trying to peddle that book. People would laugh at me with my stack of autobiographies. But, then again, maybe that's part of the tragicomedy. I'd certainly have fun writing this book 'cause I could exaggerate everything and select the handsomest pictures. It's just bad enough of an idea that I might start tonight. I'll call it: Honky: the Odious Adventures of Sandman the Cowboy Rapper.
Tuesday, September 07, 2004
If I were a rich man, I would hire a team of fourteen music producers, seven graphic designers, and two secretaries. With their help I would create, in the next two years, ten new records, three websites, and a thick, full-color book about my bourgeois, uber-creative lifestyle. And then, after a couple years, I'd rejoin the proletariat and have two children with a union maid. We'd move to North Dakota. We'd vote Democrat. We'd enjoy the spaghetti socials. We'd build a house. I'd never write another song again for as long as I friggin' lived.
I would live happy and free.
Saturday, September 04, 2004
I'd better drift to Sandland, now...
Friday, September 03, 2004
I'm tacking on a show tonight in Port Townsend at the Boiler Room, which is two hours North of here. I'm filling in for Peter Connelly who's stuck in Eugene.
Here is the song order for the soon-to-be pressed Live and Suspicious! cd.
1. Suspicious
2. Shell Shocked Man/Radio Works Fine
3. Scapegoat Song
4. Beer Pressure
5. Laborer
6. Revolution Come
7. Beauty Myth
8. Please, Louise
9. Ghost
10. Shenanigans
11. Saddle Bum/Tribute to "Rapper's Delight"
12. Imaginary World
Thursday, September 02, 2004
And here are some singing horses.
I have moved out of my old shack, in the backyard of the ABC House, and into the ABC House guest bedroom, which is actually a nicer habitation in many ways. In lieu of rent money I will be working one hour a day on various house projects. Yesterday I replaced a broken cat-door. Today I shopped for cleaning supplies, and I will sweep the basement steps later this evening.
My friend David Scherer called earlier today and said he might have a couple days of employment for me next week at $20/hr(!). I asked him why so much $/hour and he said that's what construction foremen make these days-- minimum. He manages various buildings around town and would like to employ me later this Winter, too. I like both the flexibility and wage of his offer. He's a good friend. Someday, I truly believe, he will be President of the United States.
Tuesday, August 31, 2004
Are you fascinated by conspiracy theories? I'm not usually, but this video is worth the ride. I've always sort of wondered what happened to the plane that (maybe) crashed into the Pentagon, but left no wreckage-- not that this video necessarily answers that question. Truth is slippery sometimes.
Today I must pack and move out of my room-- no rent money.
Last night, Scotty at CrimethInc. generously constructed the artwork for the Live and Suspicious! cd. It looks amazing, and unlike any of my other cds. Very professional... and funny, too.
And last, but not least, I received a letter yesterday, that I appreciated, regarding the Slippery Goodstuff hip hopera. Here it is:
e
Sunday, August 29, 2004
Yesterday was a long, good day. I drove Goose to the airport at 5 a.m. and then came home and napped. Then my housemate John married his lady, Diane, in our huge yard under the black walnut tree. It was a beautiful ceremony. Lenny dee jayed and played the best dub reggae I've ever heard. After that I drove to Portland for the hip hop show with Madgesdiq, who is truly a tower of power. He stands about 6'6" barefoot and has an almost biblical presence-- a black Moses, a dreadlocked Christ. Great words, great beats, nice guy.
As for me, the crowd appeared to love the songs. I always relax playing for predominantly black audiences because they give back so much energy (both positive and negative, sometimes). At one point the crowd started spontaneously chanting, "Go cowboy! Go cowboy! Go cowboy!," etc. I had a good time and earned $50. And then I drove back to Olympia and slept.
Saturday, August 28, 2004
It's 2:02 a.m. and in about two hours I will be driving my good friend, Chris "Goose" Kirk, to the airport. He is moving to Colombia-- South America, to start a new life and be with his amor. His Colombian girlfriend looks like a "Victoria's Secret" model. In fact her name is Victoria! I'm not joking...
I will sleep now.
Thursday, August 26, 2004
Today has been a flurry of activities and errands. Tonight, though, I relax with Sydney, and hopefully Nima and Amanda as well. We may watch a movie or play board games. Sounds good to me.
Wednesday, August 25, 2004
Andras is doing his job for me. He's been trying to get my song "Suspicious" on Air America and Democracy Now! By the way, have you heard this song yet? If not, let me introduce you to the Pop Ghetto website. You can listen to "Suspicious" from there. It's a sample of the fully produced album-to-come that Willie Wisely will be working on over the next year. Most of my vocals are already recorded. "Suspicious" is the only completely finished song and will probably only be released on my new cd. It's the only song that's not live, but the topicality of it requires it to be released asap.
Here are the lyrics:
Suspicious
Your nice new car ain't so nice anymore
Your fender had a bender, now you're tender and sore
And you're a bad loser, so you started a war
But just a tad sooner than your dad did before
Chorus:
And that's suspicious (3x)
But I'll give you the benefit of the doubt-- one time.
But then I started thinking about election day
Two-thousand-zero-zero-zero, Y2K
How something smelled fishy like... fish filet!
And your brother and your mother, they had nothin' to say
Chorus:
It was suspicious (3x)
But I'll give you the benefit of the doubt-- two times.
Osama over here, Osama over there
Osama and your mama like to share their underwear
Osama on the prairie, Osama in your tuchus
Osama's whole family vacations with the Bushes
Chorus:
That's suspicious (2x)
Ain't that suspicious?
But I'll give you the benefit of the doubt-- some more times.
All around the world, from Spain to Bangkok
Americans are studied from Twain to Hancock
They give us mad props, 'cause they know we can rock
But the paradox is that our leader can't talk
Chorus:
That's suspicious-- I thought you went to Yale
Suspicious-- How come you didn't fail?
Suspicious-- I ain't sayin' you're dumb
That would be vicious-- I just wonder how come
You're so suspicious...
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The words are simple enough; it's the music that makes this song a potential "pop" hit. It gets better with each listen I think. Willie is a maestro!
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p.s. I had dinner with Sydney last night. Her four-year-old daughter, Mirin, calls me "Calvin" for some reason. She also called me "Pine Tree." I think both those names are probably more interesting than Chris, so I didn't really try to correct her.
Tuesday, August 24, 2004
Tomorrow then. However, I will briefly recount some tour highlights from the final week on the road with Moustaches:
- The last three Slippery G. shows in Minneapolis were redemptive and enjoyable.
- A lovely woman named Marianne, whom I met at a cafe, became my Minneapolis tour-guide for the final evening. She took me to an amazing honky tonk venue where old people dressed up in vintage Western attire (think Patsy Cline, George Jones, etc.) and two-stepped. The house band let me get up and belt out Johnny Cash's "Big River" and Ernest Tubb's "Thanks a Lot." The blue-haired swingers winked and swayed.
- On the 16th I played a secret, surprise show for a young man's birthday party in Aberdeen, South Dakota. His place of work happened to be Democratic Senator Tom Daschle's office. Tom was gone, though, so in we crashed. I sang three songs and ate a slice of pizza.
- On the 17th we visited my parents' and grandparents' in Killdeer, ND. My grandpa had just killed and skinned a rattlesnake. It was huge (12 rattles). Zardoz and Blandow were not in the mood to eat it, so my mom cooked some fish instead.
- The show in Basin, MT, on the 18th, was great. My aunt Bryher fed us well. The venue is an ancient, haunted bordello; Zardoz and Blandow were way freaked out! They like being scared, though.
- The Missoula show, on the 19th, with The Microphones and Woelv, was momentous. Phil brings huge, young audiences and we were priviliged to reap the financial benefits.
- On the 20th, we visited my Grandma Herak in Polson, MT. It appears that she might have Parkinson's disease so I try to see her as much as possible. I love her.
- The Spokane experience (later on the 20th) was the perfect finale. I sold about ten pillow cases! Jeremy Hadley is a peach for his constant help. We drove to Ellensburg after the show and slept in the Log Hog recording studio.
Now I must bid you good evening...
Sunday, August 22, 2004
Our last three shows (Basin, Missoula, and Spokane) were amazing, and they boosted our morale significantly. Here's a write-up we got in The Spokesman-Review. It's one of my all-time favorites, mainly for the reason that my music gets compared to that of Tupac Shakur, Kool Keith, Eazy E, Ice-T, and even Sir Mix-a-Lot.
Hopefully tomorrow I'll get a chance to recollect the tour better.
Thursday, August 19, 2004
Thursday, August 12, 2004
Madison: Ivan Okay did a great job setting up our show, but I was only able to stand on stage in my Slippery G. outfit and give a brief synopsis. Moustaches and Ivan's side-project, Koed, performed brilliantly, though, and saved the evening. We all spent the night at my friend Ben's house. He made us a delicious pancake breakfast in the morning. My nose went through two rolls of toilet paper.
Winona: I spent $250 at the hospital trying to get healed. For some reason they rushed me into the emergency ward, and that's why I spent so much. All for a miserable cold and laryngitis!! My goal was to get some antibiotics, but it turned out to be viral which doesn't call for antiobiotics, but rather lots of rest. Sooo, I cancelled the two Winona shows. Again the Moustaches carried the load. The crowd made a really sweet get well card for me. I stayed in Alex's parent's basement. Ron and Diane fed and cooked for me. My friend Kari brought over a bunch of nutricious ingredients and a movie (Starsky and Hutch). I'm lucky to have such caring friends in Winona. We left Winona at two in the morning and drove to Minneapolis.
Minneapolis: Jonah and Shawn dropped me off with my friend Emily who is a healer. I awoke at 10 a.m. to a barrage of teas and tinctures. Then she took me to her office and spent 45-minutes working my body over. By 3 p.m. she dropped me off at Julia's and the fellas and I drove to the theater to perform our ill-fated second showing of A Year in the Life of Slippery Goodstuff. After the show I was coughing violently and felt so fatigued that I slept until this morning. The coughs remain, as do the feelings of humiliation from botching our show.
A big reason I feel so horrible about our bad outing is that the critics really slammed our first show and I wanted to excel and prove them wrong. Instead, we just lived up to (perhaps exceeded) the foul reviews. I sure hope I get healthy by Friday.
p.s. remind me to never read reviews again!!! They only undermine confidence and enthusiasm.
Monday, August 09, 2004
Sunday, August 08, 2004
Our first Slippery Goodstuff show in Minneapolis went well, and most of the crowd seemed to enjoy themselves. However, Shawn just did a web-search and found a review of the show from a big-time local theater critic who detested it. In fact, he hated it so much that I can't help feeling slightly proud of the impression it had on him. He went so far to say "it stakes a mighty claim to the title 'Worst Show in the Fringe'". He compared us to the Beastie Boys and Tenacious D. What an a**hole! I hate those bands. ; )
Tonight we play a house-show here. Tomorrow Madison. I have a cold, though, and might have to play a short set tonight to protect my raspy voice.
Friday, August 06, 2004
Thursday, August 05, 2004
We made it to Minneapolis! Both the Wolf Point and Bismarck shows went great. Sadly, I left my duffle bag full of clothes in the lobby of a hotel in Wolf Point, along with another bag of "Sandman" shirts.
Today we have tech rehearsal for A Year in the Life of Slippery Goodstuff, from 1-4, and then we do a seven-minute showcase for the public at 8 pm. Tomorrow's the first real show.