Friday, December 31, 2004

May 2005 be kinder with justice for all. May the seeds we plant this Winter will be of hearty stock. Power to the peacocks. Tidal waves of compassion. Spirit. Love. Perseverance. And change.

Thursday, December 30, 2004

Thailand update from Jen and Quinn:

"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 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..."
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

Two of my friends, Jen and Quinn, are vacationing in Thailand. I relievedly just received this email from them:

"We are ok...we were on a boat when it hit, but in the gulf of thailand so we did not feel 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

I started packing things today. It's a mildly sickening feeling to be leaving Oly. I spent the evening with two old girlfriends. From 6-10 pm I watched Fiddler on the Roof at Capital Theater with Nina. Her father, Shraga, sat with us. It was a very Jewish experience. People were clapping, dancing, and singing along. I felt privileged to be sitting next to an Israeli. And then, from 10 pm to 3 am, I spent at Sydney's. She had a small wine drinking gathering at her newly painted house. About twenty minutes ago I got weary and left. Tomorrow I begin my tiling job--a friend's bathroom.

Saturday, December 25, 2004

In regards to yesterday's euphoria, it's not like I won a lottery or found out Dubya lost the Ohio recount. It's more like I fell in love with an idea. Had a vision. Visions for me are as exciting as attaining said vision. To talk about it, though, I'm cautious, like a goat on a rocky ridge--hopefully not just coy or coquetish. Dammit, I'll eat grass and spread pellets when my cloven hooves clatter closer to the clover. (Alliteration has destroyed my integrity as a writer.)

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

Today was one of those days where the Universe lifts its trucker cap and lets you see it's simple, healthy hair line. You are not left wondering if God has dandruff or lice. A day where we know that Mother Earth's hair products are sublime--have not been tested on mice nor monkeys. December 23rd, 2004. Mark it down.

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

If you like my handpicked, fair-and-balanced links, here's an article by Haifa Zangana--an Iraqi-born novelist and former prisoner of the Saddam regime.
The letters keep coming. Here's one from today:

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.



I think it's a good excercise for us artists to document fan-mail; kind words keep us going when the rest of society appears cyncial, or uninterested. It's obviously not the paycheck that has kept me going all these years. Thank you to everyone who has shown me appreciation as a musician--it's meant a lot.

Tuesday, December 21, 2004

Tonight is the longest night of the year, and I stayed up for most of it. It's 4:00 a.m. Happy Solstice!

Here are two more letters:

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.
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.
(Enough self-aggrandizement!)
Tomorrow's a busy day--I'd better crash and dream for a spell.

Sunday, December 19, 2004

Jasper made me the most rich apple/cranberry pie as an early birthday present this evening. It was not only scrumptious but it had attractive, leafy designs on it. A work of art by all accounts! I brought it to David's potluck and gorged on meat loaf, leafy salad, chicken, pasta salad, rice, cheese, cake, and the pie with twenty-five others: Khaela, Amber, Dirk, Mona, Sam, Greg, Ericka, Lucinda, Candyce, Nikki, J.T., Ariana, Susan, Natalie, McCloud, Thea, Bella, Random, Phil, Jason, Chris, David, Finn, and a couple more.
Here is a third email from this week that made my day a lot brighter. This one is from my mom in regards to how Grandma Vi is doing:
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.
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

Today's journal entry is number two in a series of letters I've received this week that made me happy.
i was scootin through'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 iright/wrong/utterly misled and nuts? lemme know if you can...and keep on amigo...beautiful, amazing stuff. :-)

peace, tofu grease...d_______
My answer was yup--"Heartbreak Was Her Name" off of Roll Out, Cowboy (1996).

Friday, December 17, 2004

I received this email yesterday. It made my morning.
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

I found three sets of very vintage 1977 Star Wars pajamas at a yard sale. I was planning to silk-screen my logo on them, but Nerviz recommends against it. He says they might each be worth $50 or more. However, I searched the internet and can't find a price for them anywhere. Does anyone know anything about this matter? I'm trying to pay off some debtors this month. How about a Sports Illustrated with Michael Jordan and Sam Perkins on the cover from around 1982 when Jordan played college basketball for North Carolina State? Baseball card prices have plummeted--I probably couldn't get much for those. I have twenty-three Hesston National Finals Rodeo buckles dating from 1981 until this year, but it seems they have depreciated too (besides they are too nostalgic to let go of). What can I sell? What can I sell? How about some Sandman pillow cases, or maybe a cd or two! My new one, Sandman Live and Suspicious! is perhaps my best yet. Write me at

Wednesday, December 15, 2004

A friend of mine, Carrie, killed herself this Summer. I just received a beautiful, close-up picture of her face in the mail from her ex-husband. Crazy sad.

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

Happy 6th day of Chanukah 2004. Dreidels, menorahs, and latkas, oh yeah! I missed Nina's party on Friday. Are there any Jews in North Dakota? I think Bob Dylan lived briefly in Fargo once. I love Jewish culture. I love culture in general. I love colors. I love lights. I love horses. Just 'cause I'm moving to North Dakota doesn't mean I'll be trading in latkas for lefse or my "oy veys" for "uffdas". I will have my yulekaka and eat it too. Think--Hy Burstein or even Broncho Billy. Palestinians, too, have been known to inhabit North Dakota. My parents have a 75-yr-old neighbor named Yassir Yabetch'ya.

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

What can I say in fifteen minutes? I'm sort of on a mini tour of the Northwest right now. In an hour I play at 3B Tavern in Bellingham. Tomorrow I'll finally play the Tractor Tavern which, amazingly, I've never been to. Many people over the years have told me that the Tractor is the place I need to play.

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

Back in Olympia, again! Two mornings ago I was in Minnesota. Yesterday morning it was North Dakota. This morning, Montana. Now here. Uffda. There is a lot to catch up on, but not now at 4 a.m.

Sunday, December 05, 2004

Greetings from Underwood, MN. I played a house-show last night and a Unitarian church this morning. My parents drove me out here. We didn't quite make it all the way without their station wagon's engine overheating and throwing a rod. Fortunately we were only thirty minutes out, so we made it to the show in time. There's a chance the engine's still salvageable--we'll find out tomorrow. If not, we'll have to rent a car or take a bus back to Killdeer, ND. Then I have to drive back to Olympia for a show on Thursday. 319 Joe is waiting patiently in the stable.

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).


Thursday, December 02, 2004

I know the word "moral" has been abused lately and all, but that doesn't mean that it's lost its meaning. We can't throw the baby out with the bathwater in regards to abortion (again, no pun intended), women's rights, or economic justice for all. There are real reasons why certain issues are controversial. For instance, today I wonder if it is wrong to keep reminding ourselves that we are ruled by abusive, dictatorial-leaning villains? I just can't imagine any great humanitarian condoning the actions (and inactions) of the United States of America in regards to our illegal war upon the country of Iraq. Over 100,000 Iraqi civilians have been killed since we invaded. Just last month 135 good US soldiers died. For what? 9/11? Hubris and apathy have destroyed us. We're part of it. A country's greatness is intrinsically tied to its honesty and integrity, right?

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 cold continues. The sniffly nose kind with occasional sneezings and coughs. I'm figuring lots of things out, though. Kind of. Rock Ridge Records does want to sign me. My friend Jack Norton does think it would be a good career decision to move to Minneapolis or St. Paul this winter. Ike Reilly does want me to open up for his band in February. My friends in Olympia do want to support me while I'm there with odd jobs and couches to sleep on. My grandpa does want to teach me to train horses. My parents do want to support me in any ways they can (I already knew this). I do want to grab life by the horns, wrestle it to the ground, and tie a knot in its tail. I do want to delve deeper into cowboy poetry. I do want to write a book of some sort someday. I do want to record about fifty unrecorded raps, and at least one collection of children's songs. I could go on and on. Basically, the knots that life have tied in my tail are finally loosening. I feel a small weight lifted. It's a tentative thing, though, this shedding of skin. There's no telling how close we are to the morning until we actually see the first fractal of light reflected off a pigeon's tiny pizzle.

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

Dad and I came down with colds and stayed home today. We worked on cleaning 319 Joe's carburetor this afternoon, and somehow the whole engine block caught fire! Dad ran inside the house, grabbed the fire extinguisher, and sprayed the flames out. Some wires and tubes melted, but it seems to run okay still.

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

Brrrrr... it was friggin' frigid this morning on the mountain. My fingers got frostbitten many years ago, so now it's especially painful when I have to use them in sub-freezing temperatures. The wind-chill factor sucked. I was glad when we moved inside to stack straw bales. Tomorrow will be warmer. Exterior carpentry is a gruesome, winter, North Dakota occupation--and it's not even winter yet!

Actually, though, I love it here. My parents are good to me.

Saturday, November 27, 2004

Computers have been scarce these last three days. I feel journalistically negligent. We're back from Spearfish in one piece--well fed and contented. Tomorrow I start working off parental debts again, here in Killdeer. Or maybe I can talk them into giving me one more day off to recover from the vacation. It'll be Sunday, after all.

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

Crazy times. I just returned to Killdeer, ND, this evening on the Amtrak Empire Builder. Tomorrow I'll cram into a car with G & G and my parents and we'll head to Spearfish, SD, for three days of Thanksgiving festivities with my aunts and uncles and cousins and such. Perhaps I will find some time to gamble in Deadwood, hike through the Black Hills, or get into a knife fight in Sturgis. Sadly, Mom chopped my thick mullet off tonight, and I fear my strength has been decreased. I look like a plucked Butterball! More like a plucked duck, probably.

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

I think I'm shedding my skin. Like a cobra. I want to disappear until Spring. Or fly South. Like a goose.

Tomorrow I'll take a train back to North Dakota, which is a start. My heart hurts and I don't know why.

Friday, November 19, 2004

First, the good news. An East Coast record label, Rock Ridge, wants to work with me. They have some amount of money to promote and distribute (and officially release) the new Sandman Live and Suspicious! CD. How much money I'm not sure, but surely over $5000. I'll keep you informed as knowledge becomes revealed on that front.

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

Today is filled with uninteresting, yet pleasant, chores. My goal is to get the VW pickup running before Friday.

Tuesday, November 16, 2004

Another tour has come full circle. My feet touched down on Olympia soil yesterday after a twenty-three hour train-ride from Williston, ND. Actually, I missed the train in Williston by a minute and had to have my parents drive me to Wolf Point, MT, at 80 mph, in order to catch up with it. (Wolf Point is 150 miles away from Williston.) It is a powerless sensation see that line of boxcars picking up speed. We managed to beat the train to Wolf Point by only five minutes. I was on copwatch for most of the chase-- binoculars firmly affixed.

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

Last night my parents noticed my low spirits. After prying out the reasons for my dejection they encouraged me to not forfeit the train-ride home, but rather to use it and take care of vital business back in Olympia for a few days. I finally agreed that this would be a smart thing to do. Afterall, a train-ride alone will cure almost any ill-- pure meditation and easy rollin' bliss. It leaves early tomorrow morning from Williston, so I need to start packing now.

p.s. Mom baked an apple pie, tonight, as a sort of goodbye treat, and it totally rocked.

Friday, November 12, 2004

Depression. The job I wanted in Olympia has been gotten by someone else. I was planning to take a train there tomorrow morning, but now I must forfeit my ticket. I don't know what to do now. I am completely out of money. I am in debt to friends, family, and institutions. I'm really bummed.

Wednesday, November 10, 2004

Today while working on the mountain, I was given pause while pounding nails with Grandpa's red hammer. The handle is made from a smooth branch he found. Then he painted it red and affixed to it a sixteen-ounce hammer-head. It felt very good in my right hand. Grandpa's best saying, in my opinion, is:

"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

To see photo links to the eighteen people whom some say I look like, scroll down three posts.

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

Suspicious? It's worth pondering...

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

Today is a day of self-reflection. My mom asked me to sort through a box of photos and newspaper articles she's been collecting over the last thirty-three years, of yours truly, and there were hundreds! Eighty-five percent of them were embarrassing to look at, but some were eye-opening. For instance, I forgot how buff I was in my late teens, or how doe-eyed and awkward I looked in my early teens. I forgot how curly and blonde I was at age three, and how bearded and stern I looked in my mid-twenties. Images of me with ex-girlfriends, cousins, classmates. A clip-out, quarter-page salute in the Ronan Pioneer to the Future Farmers of America, with my picture underscored with-- "Sheep." Other images painted me as a hippy, a mountain man, a tennis player, a baseball card enthusiast, a beach bum, a firefighter. I was a sweet boy, a lonely adolescent, an angry collegiate, a failed homeowner/fiance, a re-determined musician-poet. Ick! The stages of life are messy and indescribable. I think it would be a worthy experiment to hide all traces of my past and start again with merely a corn-cob pipe and type-writer. I could record essays about dirt or water-- or mud when they combine!!! I mean, why should I wait?

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.
Lots of people tell me that I look like someone they know. Below is a short list of the more famous ones (with the number of times people have mentioned it in parentheses):

  1. Michael Keaton (7)
  2. JFK, Jr. (1)
  3. Dudley Moore (1)
  4. Hugh Grant (1)
  5. Woody Guthrie (3)
  6. Jakob Dylan (2)
  7. The first drummer for Styx (1)
  8. Neil Young (1)
  9. Tom Hanks (2)
  10. Jerry Seinfeld (1)
  11. Charles Manson (4)
  12. Jesus Christ (1)
  13. Elvis Presley (2)
  14. Peter O'Toole (1)
  15. Paul McCartney (1)
  16. Matthew McConaughey (2)
  17. Lou Reed (1)

Comments? Click below-- it's easy!

Saturday, November 06, 2004

While working on the mountain today, a gray wind broke the spell of the morning sun's gay promise. It got too cold and I was glad when work was through. At five-thirty G & G picked my parents and me up and drove us to Grassy Butte for a chili feed.

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

Today was unseasonably warm here in Killdeer, and windy; my dad and I got a lot done. Again, the beauty of Killdeer Mountain inspires awe. I want my friends to come out and witness it, 'cause words cannot relay what I see daily. I've spent over twenty years visiting this land--riding horses through it and digging holes on it--and my brain still spins each time the day-moon rollerblades over the south eighty.

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

I went to the chiropractor today in Dickinson. Before that, though, my dad gave me a muscle relaxant so I'd be pliable. It really worked, 'cause I'm still loose as a goose. I only worked a couple hours when we returned in the afternoon. Chainsawed down a couple trees in the back yard. Then my folks and I walked to the Buckskin for margaritas, chips and salsa. Must sleep now. Very tired. Goooodnighmndabbbd...

Wednesday, November 03, 2004

I had trouble sleeping last night. Around 6 a.m. I turned on the television to learn that John Kerry had lost Ohio. I ate some oatmeal and drove to the mountain with my dad to put some siding on the north wall. The Killdeer Mountain is less a mountain than a series of bluffs and buttes shoved up against a river of meandering badlands. The scenery is truly astonishing from atop my parents' roof. The golden hills and gullies are hyper clear in the crisp, morning air. They make me think of African grasslands. It's hard to believe that we are the only humans for miles and miles around as we hammer and measure and cut and drill. We move slowly.

(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

Today was my day to recuperate. Dad and I went to the Buckskin Bar for $1 beer and 10-cent buffalo wings. Killdeer, ND, is very desolate and quiet, with wide streets. Maybe five hundred people live here. I guess, all in all, it's a typical prairie community. Lots of Norwegians, Germans, and Russians. I'm hoping to find a weekly poker game somewhere. There's a pro bull rider/country singer named Benny Paulson, who I'm planning to swap tunes with one of these days. I may end up doing some sort of show at the Buckskin in a couple Fridays. But mostly I'll just be working with my dad up on the mountain as we attempt to make progress on building the house. I suppose Sundays will be a church-going affair with my grandparents. I'm actually real happy to be here for the next few weeks. It'll be good for my head and heart and body and soul.

PS-- Don't forgit to vote. Nov. 2nd!!!!

Sunday, October 31, 2004

Happy Halloween! I'm so happy that November 2nd is almost here-- "trick or treat?" indeed. It's a good question... I don't know if our nation can handle too many more tricks or treats, though. What we need is a good, ol' fashioned ass-whuppin' from Muhammed Ali (or Marlon Brando circa The Wild One). We need a dentist with steady hands and a tomahawk. Candyman needs a faith-based cavity search by George Orwell. Hitler needs a moustache vasectomy and a feces-proof copy of Dante's Inferno. It's gonna hit the fan, right? Mosh through the marsh, or whatever. Massive creativity is almost upon us, and it will be an absurd scene when the bats start coming out of their caves to piss on our toupees.

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

It's Madison, WI again-- my fourth show here in half a year! I was pretty sick last time, though, so hopefully tonight will redeem my last visit. Ivan Okay, whom I toured w/ last Spring, set this show up. He'll also be playing, so I'm pretty pleased about that. I'm at the University of Wisconsin library right now. Earlier today, John Kerry was on campus stumping with Bruce Springsteen, who played a couple songs. Stephan and I missed it.

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: 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

All's well in Chicago. Madison tomorrow. I'm too rushed to write more. Red Sox 3 games to zero over the Cardinals...

Sunday, October 24, 2004

Nana and Lauris hooked it up! They set up a great show at the Wonderland Club in DC tonight. It was the best show yet, financially. I'll write more soon.

Friday, October 22, 2004

"She wins who calls herself beautiful and challenges the world to change to truly see her."

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

My homepage tour-dates have been impossible to update for the last three weeks-- the blogger routing is inexplicably failing to link any updates. Sorry about the confusion.

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

Greetings from Richmond, VA. I've never been here, and look forward to exploring the back-alleys and assorted dumpsters. My meager money has expired but the next few shows should earn me great rewards.

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

I'm in Virginia now. Tonight's show in Maryland got cancelled. Last night's gig in Philly was a catastrophic flop. Oy vey.

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

I'm at an expensive internet cafe in New York. I've had to spend a lot of money here with taxis, tolls, and trains. And sadly I'm not earning much in return at my scattered shows. The three shows here were weird; they've made me question my worth as a troubador. Tonight's gig was the best, I think. Only nine people were there but I finally got to meet Stephan Smith who'll I'll be touring with. He's a great, talented guy and we bonded immediately. Tomorrow we drive to Philadelphia and then roll down the Eastern Seaboard.

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

I just drove Chris Chandler's car to Manhattan from Boston.

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: 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

I played the feature set of an open mic at Club Passim in Cambridge tonight. Unfortunately, I was a little off my game. Perhaps it was because of the intense lights in my eyes and too crisp sound on the stage. Maybe it was because I'm at the beginning of a tour and a little rusty. Maybe my hair-cut, a thick mullet, scared the crowd and I took their fear personally. Maybe it was because the Red Sox were losing to the Yankees, while I was singing, and thus the crowd's anxious morale disquieted me. Or what I propose to be the reason-- I had to follow a crummy comedian who kept making shark jokes. I didn't know how to realign the vibe of the sad audience, after that.

Tomorrow, I have a feeling, will go much better.

Monday, October 11, 2004

Now I'm in Orford, New Hampshire, but I'll be eating dinner in Vermont. I'm getting the whole New England package! The leaves are, perhaps, even more vibrant here than in Maine.

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

Doug chauffered me around scenic Maine today. We drove many miles in search of the colorful leaves of Autumn in New England... and we found 'em! Orange, red, and yellow foilage clustered amongst groves of peeling white Birch and mossy Pine. We came upon cheeky chipmunks, wild turkeys and coyotes... clear rivers, big lakes, and quaint hamlets. And the weather was warm and sunny.

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

I think I will start documenting my song lyrics in preparation for a book of them by Christmas. To view them go here. I've only got one down so far, though.
Greetings from Newcastle, Maine. I made it. Doug drove three hours to Boston to pick me up at 5:30 in the morning (and then back)-- that's a friend! We ate breakfast in Portsmouth and then toured Kennebunkport and witnessed the magestic, ocean-front mansions of the Bushes. They own the prettiest little peninsula/island/isthmus or whatever it is that sticks out into the rocky, lobster-friendly waters of southern Maine. The weather is warm, here, but with a hint of frostiness, too.

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

Today I was soaking in some Idaho hot springs with my dad. Tomorrow (Monday) I will commute the lengthy state of Montana and Wyoming on my way to Spearfish, South Dakota. Tuesday I will drive to Denver, CO with my aunt and uncle. Wednesday I will fly to Boston, MA. Thursday I will drive to Portland, Maine with my pal Doug. And then the "real" tour begins.

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

The weather is crisp and sunny in Missoula, Montana. The leaves are yellow and orange. Grandma is feeling better, except she sees "two of everything".

I want to hike somewhere. Or soak in some hot springs in Idaho.

Wednesday, September 29, 2004

Build a Better Bush.

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.
I'm trying to get a job maintaining trails when I return to Olympia. Thus, I've been digging up pertinent job info to put on a resume, such as...

Fire Suppression: Malheur Helitack Rappel Crew.

Carpenter: Sunrise Construction.

Outdoor Guide: University of Montana.

This is boring to do.

Tuesday, September 28, 2004

I stayed overnight with my grandma Sunday night and awoke to her coughing and choking on blood. Her white sheets and pillows were drenched, and she seemed to be slightly delusional. I called my mom and we got her to the emergency room (via ambulance). For the next twelve hours she continuously spit up large mouthfuls of coagulated blood-- it made me really woozy. Fortunately, she's recovering now at the intensive care ward in Missoula. I'll drive down there tomorrow to see her. The doctors think that somehow the Parkinson's Disease pills she's been on for the last couple of weeks have wreaked havoc on her fragile system. Poor little, tough Grandma.

Saturday, September 25, 2004

I'm in Montana now. Left Olympia yesterday at 4 p.m. and drove ten hours here. This afternoon I spent time with Grandma and massaged her feet and legs. She just moved into an assisted living center and I can tell that she's scared she might be on the verge of death or something. I think she's just a little ill from some bad drugs she took recently. She needs a physical therapist, though, to help get her body working properly again. I'll try to rub her feet and legs every day this week and encourage her to drink lots of water.

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

The new cd has arrived! "Joe" and I drove down to Portland to pick 'em up-- hot off the press-- little plastic biscuits of rhythm and melody.

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.
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

I leave Olympia in two days. I'd better make some more pillow cases.

And by the way, 319 JOE (my car) made it all the way up to Canada and back without the clutch destructing. Thanks again, Joe. If I make some money on this next tour I'll treat you real nice and get you a new one.

Sunday, September 19, 2004

Greetings from British Columbia. Sydney and I spent the day in Vancouver-- China Town mostly. I bought lots of different kinds of candy. Chinese sweets are way different than the American kind. They're more fruity; no chocolate. Sydney bought a dried iguana on a stick and some bottles of ginseng/royal jelly, and some tea. We ran into Giles O'Dell, and Cindy and Sarah (of Scream Club) on Commercial Avenue when we were searching for a good Ethiopian restaurant. They were returning to Olympia, after playing three shows in three days.

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

Happy Rosh Hashanah!! (The Jewish New Year).

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

My back's gettin' strong. Feels good. After trenchin' for the first half of the day I went to Johnny's and helped shovel goat manure. He's building a big compost oven. There might not be anymore work for me until Saturday.

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

Today was a good day. I dug many square yards of dirt and had good conversations with fellow laborers. We tore out two stumps. It hardly rained at all. And I found a nice package in the mail when I got home.

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

I'm too tired to write. I just dug trench for eight hours in the rain.

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

I'm back to diggin' holes. I'll tell you more tomorrow after I'm done with my shift at Epic Landscape.

Friday, September 10, 2004

Witness the mini bio.

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

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'm listening to Springsteen's Tunnel of Love which I bought for .59 cents at Goodwill today. It's so good. I like the synthesizers and stuff. I also bought Born in the USA, but I just can't stop listening to Tunnel of Love. Definitely the Boss.

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

My world is in a strange little pocket right now. I'm almost not busy for the first time in months. I've had time to spend with Sydney, play some local shows, work on the house, and even read a book of short stories by Roald (not Ronald) Dahl. I can't quite trust this sensation, though. Afterall, I still need to set up a week of shows in New England for early October. Actually, what I probably should be doing with my spare time is creating a book of lyrics; many people have asked me when I'll have something like that available for purchase. Plus, I'm starting to lose track of my song catalogue. I've written dozens of ditties in the last few years that I've never had time to flesh out musically because they call for more of a band-type arrangement. Lyrically they stand up fine, though, and I want them documented before they skip my memory banks.

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

It's 4 a.m. I just returned from an unannounced show w/ Willie Wisely in Port Townsend; I filled in for The Mona Reels who got stranded in Eugene, Oregon. The crowd was young and liked my stuff. I sold lots of pillow cases and cds. Willie rocked as always. Tomorrow we roll southerly, to Portland.

I'd better drift to Sandland, now...

Friday, September 03, 2004

Have you ever heard of freeway blogging? Not a bad idea.

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

My old pal, Jack Norton, has repackaged his vinyl 7" and called it: Roll On, Cowboy. If I recall correctly, he wrote it as a sort of response to my song "Roll Out, Cowboy." The artwork gives me pleasure.

And here are some singing horses.
I made it onto a compilation cd which will be coming out this month. Other artists on it include Utah Phillips, Greg Brown, and Stephan Smith. The common theme of the album will be-- let's give Bush/Cheney the boot come election-time. Here's the song-title & musician link.

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

I'm stripes!

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:

hi, sandman.

i have been wanting to email you for a while now and let you know that your show of a few weeks ago at the roxy really made quite an impact on me, and i've been thinking about it ever since.

i have been dealing with an excruciating period of body image problems, as well as an eating disorder that i have only recently come to recognize for what it is--self-hatred and fear all wrapped up in unconsciousness and confusion. your show made me think and feel and laugh about these issues, and left me feeling a sense of relief that i am not the only one who goes through the convoluted and painful process of self-examination.

thank you for the incredible amount of work it must have taken to put that show together. i loved mount eerie and woelve, too, but it was your risk-taking and bombastic exposition that stayed with me and gave me some kind of peaceful feeling inside. every time that voice starts up in my head telling me how ugly i am, i think about your show and i can't help but smile.

thanks again.

Sunday, August 29, 2004

After a couple cool weeks the temperature is up in the high 80's again. I think I'll be swimming real soon. Right now though I'm trying to put some time into completing the artwork for the Sandman Live and Suspicious! cd. What I really need to be doing, though, is packing and figuring out where I'm going to live starting September 1st. I'm two months behind paying rent and have nothing to offer for September, either. It makes me sad that I can't continue my residency here, but, fortunately my housemates are letting me sublet my room for three months in the hopes that I can come up with ample rent funds in the interim. Zardoz will take my place until then.

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

Tomorrow night (Saturday, which is actually today now) I play a show in Portland with a rapper named Madgesdiq. The venue is Mississippi Studios. Mississippi Studios is where I recorded a slew of songs for my 2005 release, last month before tour. I'll be playing there again next Saturday with Willie Wisely (who produced those songs), and the Mona Reels.

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

Here's another tour highlight. In Butte, MT, we found a discount store called Prospector's that sold Cliff Bars for ten cents. No tax, even! I also bought four disposable, telephoto cameras for $2 each.

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

I just remembered another highlight from the "Slippery Goodstuff" tour; an anonymous philanthropist left me, Shawn, and Jonah an envelope which contained a $50-bill and a note saying that the money was the "Spirit of the Fringe" prize!!! It was unofficial, but it lifted our ragged morales to the sky's ceiling. Another person gifted us with seven of her favorite cds, including the two most recent Modest Mouse albums.
Today is all about the business of raising money for the new Sandman Live and Suspicious cd. G.O.D. (aka Giles O'Dell who I think hates being called G.O.D.) just lent me $500! Thank G.O.D.! Now I have $ 1000 to go. G.O.D. is a generous S.O.B. That's about all the money he has...

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:


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

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

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

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

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...

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!

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

The day just disappears somehow, sometimes. I'd meant to write a lot in here, but it's dinner-time now, and I have a date with sexy Sydney, and her daughters Zela and Mirin. And after that a house meeting. And then something else, as yet undecided...

Tomorrow then. However, I will briefly recount some tour highlights from the final week on the road with Moustaches:
  1. The last three Slippery G. shows in Minneapolis were redemptive and enjoyable.
  2. 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.
  3. 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.
  4. 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.
  5. 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.
  6. 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.
  7. 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.
  8. 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...

I've been a bad blogger. So busy with guests and house duties and trying to fund raise for my 6th CD!! This one is called Sandman Live and Suspicious! The goal is $1500 this week. If anyone out there can help out with the whole chunk, I will pay you it back plus generous interest by December. It's a twelve-song live album, except for the first track, which is a politically charged, highly produced pop song called "Suspicious."

Sunday, August 22, 2004

I am back in Olympia. The tour is complete. It rained all day today and I liked it.

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

Hola from Missoula. Tonight I play at the Roxy Theater with The Microphones/Mt. Eerie, & Woelv. Good times.

Our show in Basin last night was tremendous. I sold eight pillow cases!

I'll talk more later...

Thursday, August 12, 2004

I'll try to recount the two days leading up to yesterday's hellacious Fringe Fest show:

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.
Woe is me-- I had to cancel my last three shows due to laryngitis. My goal was to rest and then rock the Fringe Fest show yesterday. However, due to my weakened state and semi-delirium the show was a complete bomb!!! Jonah and Shawn are also sick and they both fumbled a bit. We are all embarrassed beyond belief. I'll expound later.

Monday, August 09, 2004

I'm battling to not lose my voice. Drats. We're in Madison tonight. Last night's show in Milwaukee was not what I'd planned. It's a long story, but we chose not to play at the house we were scheduled for. Instead, I met up with the friends who came to see me (and their friends) and we hiked up to this hill to a reservoir overlooking the city and I played there. It was a pleasant experience. A woman named Ebie let us crash on her sofas.

Sunday, August 08, 2004

By the way, Moustaches-- who I'm touring with are a spin-off of the hip hop band Log Hog. Everyone associated with Log Hog is incredible. Check out their website.
Greetings from Milwaukee! The show last night in Chicago went okay. Only made $7, though. We couldn't afford a hotel so we slept in the grass outside a Wisconsin information center.

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

All's well in St. Paul today, where I'm at Concordia College using their computer. Last night our Slippery Goodstuff preview showcase went great! I bought a leopard-print thong, and some accidental nudity happened. We were warmly received.

Thursday, August 05, 2004

On the road again...

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.

Saturday, July 31, 2004

My goal today was to not stress out about the final hours before tour kick-off. So I decided to go rafting and swimming with my friend Sydney, which was awesome! But now I have come to realize that I really am not prepared at all. It may be an all-nighter for me with at least one trip to Kinko's... I'll sleep in the car.