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.

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 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!!

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 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.

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.

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!

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.

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:
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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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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.

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:

#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.

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:
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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.

Today's journal entry is number two in a series of letters I've received this week that made me happy.
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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).

I received this email yesterday. It made my morning.
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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

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 rappincowboy@hotmail.com.

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.

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."

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.

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.

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!

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE:

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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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.

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.