A friend on Joni Mitchell:
"She seems to me like the kind of girl you'd be walking down the sidewalk with, all of a sudden  she'd yank her hand away, turn her head, cover her eyes and start crying.  You would say, 'what's wrong?' 'What's wrong?'  She would point at a straw and a wrapper thrown in the street and the night would be ruined at that point."

Looking back, I was actually cool in high school. . .

This weekend, somewhere in Iowa, there is a class reunion that will comprise a host of now-grown boys and girls  I went to high school with.  While I wanted to go back (I honestly did), I couldn't justify spending the money on a plane ticket to go play golf for an afternoon and eat a steak supper afterwards and then fly home on Monday.  I'm not that good of a golfer, and, while I know the steak in Iowa is good, I got on the scale today and I am about seven pounds heavier than I want to be (if they removed my organs, I would be the weight I'd like, incidentally). I'm kind of bummed out because I wanted to be the obnoxious, drunk single girl who makes an ass of herself . . . damn . . . In the end, I will be glad to have saved my money and the calories, but I can't help feeling a little left out.  Ironically, I couldn't help feeling a little left out in high school either (like the Senior Skip Day I wasn't invited to - insert frowny face here).

I've always been somewhat of a loner, it's true. My mother says even as a baby I was happy to spend hours alone in my play-pen. I think some this is genetic and some of it has to do with growing up in the country. Our house was a mile so out of town,  but my parents weren't farmers like most of the other people in the country, so that made us kind of oddballs (though Mom did have grand plans of getting chickens and eventually a local guy named Jack Hill - I thought he was Jack from "Jack and Jill Went Up the Hill" - would put a bunch of sheep and goats in our pasture) .  At the time, there were no other kids on properties near our house so we spent more time isolated from our peers than was probably necessarily good for us - especially when we were really little. We weren't like creepy home-schooled kids or anything (though we were pretty pale and scared-looking.) We had awesome babysitters who lived in town and I went to preschool with normal town kids, but my mom sent me a year early (I was only 3, the others were 4).  I think that hurt my social standing because when I didn't go to Kindergarten with all of them they thought I was held back from Preschool.  Really?

Growing up in the country was good for me because I had lots of room to grow and therefore lots of space to create and explore my imagination without many boundaries.  With a few exceptions, there weren't many jerks in my early childhood who told me to stop pretending or whatever crazy imaginary stuff I came up with  was nonsense.  I even had an imaginary friend named Tootie who lived in my knee.  She was very cool and I'm sure had she lasted into college with me, we would have gone out drinking together a lot!  (Thank God, she didn't though because that would have made me really weird.)

In elementary school I had friends, but I was always just an "odd duck," as my grandma called it.

Image from "Blondie's Lounge"

On the playground, I preferred to make up games on the slide by myself or talk to the teacher instead.  When Cabbage Patch dolls were all the rage, I was so excited to finally get one and took it to school to play "mommies" with all of the other girls at recess.  But alas, my mother was fiscally responsible and refused to buy new diapers for my Cabbage Patch doll when the original diaper Tessa Kendra (she was a redhead) came with fell off.  The other girls said I was a bad mommy and that my baby had a poopy butt.  I told them she was potty-trained (as my mother had instructed me) but it didn't go over well.  So I went back to playing by myself.

By third grade I was a legitimate weirdo.  I liked the old Star Trek television series (I wanted Mr. Spock to be my dad, though looking back, my own father had a certain nerd-ish quality that probably made me think he was Mr. Spock.) and Garbage Pail Kids

From www.imisstheoldschool.com

 and of course, when Pee Wee's Big Adventure and Pee Wee's Playhouse came out I was a sunk ship!

From www.geekshow.us

All of that being said, I wasn't as bad as some kids.  I didn't eat glue (although I did like to spread it on my hands, let it dry and then peel it off, making an enormous "glue ball") or suck my jello through a straw or use grotesque amounts of ketchup on my french fries at lunch (incidentally, for any of you who went to the old Epworth Elementary school in the late '80's up until just a few years ago there were still ketchup stains on the ceiling from that time that kid pounded the ketchup bottle on the table and splattered it up there).  My mom always bought me great clothes, including a Spudds McKenzie sweatshirt,

from www.askgoogle.com

bubble skirts, ESPRIT sweatshirts (and the real ones, not knockoffs), and one or two pairs of GUESS jeans.  I had an AWESOME jean jacket with wool lining, which at the time I thought looked like a pilot's bomber jacket (I was a big Top Gun fan too) but looking back I realize was more cowgirl, which is pretty cool too.  I even had a pair of short fringed cowboy boots with conchos that were all the rage when Bon Jovi put out "Wanted: Dead or Alive."  As for other cool stuff, I had lots of Hello Kitty swag, Barbie Dolls, Snorks and Smurfs gear, and a prized collection of "Sweet Valley Twins" books.  Just saying . . .

But one can only live in a world of her own fantasy for so long before adolescence slowly creeps in.  And if you can't roll your blue jeans cuffs like Theo and Denise Huxtible from the Cosby Show or jack your bangs up really high (with your portable curling iron that ran on butane and probably blew up more than one junior high school locker) you are in it for it:

 From http://theclassic80s.com/80s-hairstyles.html  (this is not me, Mom, though undoubtedly you will think it because you are like this)

This is the part where me actually being cool comes in because I never really fell for any of that shit.  When my jeans wouldn't roll up I said f-that and when the White Rain hairspray didn't work I just quit and went au natural. Others didn't like it because I was the lone wolf separating from the pack, but I survived.  The coolest part about this is that if you go through my high school yearbooks, I don't have any years that I look back on and go, OH MY GOD HOW EMBARRASSING!  (Which I never look through anyway, because I threw my junior high yearbooks out and can't find my high school ones). 

Actually, without knowing it, I was somewhat of a trendsetter and I like to think I was kind of Bette Davis cool (although this is probably a bit of an exaggeration). My sister and I wore our hair in scrunchies and buns much to the taunting other kids on the bus, only to find that two years later all of the girls were doing this.  I wore vintage courdoroys from Ragstock in Iowa City because I just liked them.  Two years later, in college, they were extremely popular.  I listened to jazz.  I read Harper's Bazaar.  I knew who designers like Marc Jacobs and Anna Sui were - not bad for a girl in a town of 1,500 people.  I even wore a Mod-Squad style 1960s mini-dress under my graduation gown, though, looking back I just wish I had been confident enough to really pull it off.

Thankfully, I was never really "picked on" in high school.  I was kind of nerdy because I was smart, but I was like a sexy, witty smart.  I didn't do well at math, which made my friends tell me I wasn't smart, but I was also smart enough not to get really wrapped up in cats (like books and stickers and stuff, ew) and those Vampire books by Anne Rice (not so cool, in my opinion).  I had some close friends but they were quick to turn (not just on me, anyone) and that was pretty much the definition of the social stratus of high school. It was actually more fun to kind of be-bop around from group to group when I could by with it. And those times when my friends would oust me? Looking back I might have deserved (some of) it.  Being secretly cool comes with a price - it can make a person a little arrogant.  I was "cultured" to the point of probably asserting my opinions on people a little more than I needed to, but I was just trying to make them see that there was a life outside of our sleepy Iowa community.  Some did, some never will - and that's okay. 

It's no wonder that I ended up away from there, though.  I just wasn't exactly meant to stay.  And it's not like I hopped on board the Greyhound as fast as I could.  It was a slow transition.  All that being said, being an original has been good for me.  It works out well in Los Angeles where I feel like I fit in by being different.  What passes for "different" in my hometown (wearing a skirt for example) is NOTHING here (a gigantic black man in a Playboy bunny suit, for example).  Being "different" and shunned on occasion made me expand my horizons and get to know people who were not necessarily the first people I would gravitate to.  This works out well in my singing career because you are always meeting new people - and if you give them a chance you almost always find you have something in common with them anyway.

So, Western Dubuque High School class reunioners, have fun!  I mean that in all sincerity.  By now, we should have forgiven each other for the TP'd houses and the soaped windshields and the jeering and mocking.  If you are still doing this to people, you are "so high school, like, really, and totally need to, like, grow up!" (I can talk that way, now, by the way because I live near "The Valley" and that kind of makes me a Valley Girl.)

I am considering being "different' yet again and hosting my own class reunion should I go home for Christmas. If you are interested in joining me in the Alternative Class Reunion because you live out of town and couldn't make it to this one, even if you didn't go to my high school and want to be part of the Alternative Class Reunion, please e-mail me at melaniedevaney@gmail.com.  Also, be sure to check out my music at www.reverbnation.com/MelanieDevaney and please, please please like TOTALLY be my friend on Facebook if you aren't already.

Busking

So this morning, while I was at the gym I saw the weather forecast and it predicted a 99-degrees Farhenheit day in the city of Los Angeles.  I made the executive decision not to play out today - i.e. busk.  Most people who know me and my music would counter that I am beyond busking, but I must iterate that I live in Los Angeles, California and that it a) it is expensive to live here so every dollar counts and b) challenging to make a living as an artist here (at least in my experience to date).  Besides, I kind of like it.

Some of my favorite people have been buskers. These include my friend David Whitley and Banjo Dave, both of Arizona lore.  According to Road Junky Guide, among famous people who once busked are: Billy Bragg, Bob Dylan, Damien Rice, Bob Hope, Sheryl Crow, and Jewel (the last two being somewhat of role models for me so I feel less degraded by it now!). For me, I believe busking keeps me real and to a certain degree, modest.  On days when I don't have a paid show, I can at least get out and play and promote my music to real, living people.  I won't deny that it has run its risk of strange encounters of the crazy kind (homeless people, mental facility patients and that druggy who offered me all of his "real silver" pesos), but I have met some cool people by putting my music out to the Universe.  I've also pulled in a couple of high-paying house concerts and even a kid's birthday party.  It certainly isn't romantic as I thought the movie "Once" kind of portrayed it (I couldn't get through the whole movie, to be honest) and the chances of Bruce Springsteen busking with me are slim (see BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN: BEHIND THE BUSKING), but if you give it a go, it can be worth it - at least in the interim of getting some "real" gigs.

Here's a few recommendations I have based on my experience.  There are actually a lot of websites devoted to this topic and they may be more "qualified" with really great ideas, but I thought I'd share all the same because you never know when you're going to wind up somewhere with your only resource being your guitar and your voice.  These are in no particular order and I can't even say that I always follow them - being an artist, I'm not the most organized or consistent creature on the planet - but here they are:

1) Smile at strangers and make eye contact (unless the person is creepy and has shifty eyes - trust me on this one!)  Granted, this is the antithesis of what your Mom told you to do when you were three years old, but trust me, smiling makes people feel warm and fuzzy, especially if you are playing during a business day and they are heading back to their corporate offices after work.  It helps if you are pretty and a female, especially if you are smiling at old men and children.  I heard somewhere that music is a form of communication that lies somewhere between words and intuition - smiling makes people aware (trust me, there are some very "comatose" people out there) that there is music and once they know it is going on, they will probably pay attention and even (gasp!) tip you.

2) Say thank you.  Learn your songs so well that you can talk instead of singing one or two of the lyrics without stopping playing and acknowledge people's gift to you.  It makes them feel appreciated and that you recognize their contribution.  I go so far as to wish them a good day.  Think of all of these people who go through their days with no one paying attention to them - just saying thank you and have a nice day could reverse the course of the universe. (What if someone had said thank you and have a nice day to Moammar Quadaffi, for example, at an impressionable time in his youth?)

3) Don't wallow.  What I mean by that, is play up-beat songs for the most part.  This should be a no-brainer and, in my opinion, should go for all performances.  People will literally ignore you if you are bringing them down with songs about how your heart has turn to ashes from being burnt or something philosophical.  There's nothing wrong with playing a slow, beautiful, meaningful, heartfelt song amongst more vibrant ones, but people will tune you if all you play are songs that are either a) sad or b) angry.  Think about it - if you are playing in a public place, the people who are walking by are probably on their way to a dinner with friends, family or a new date; going to the movies; or going shopping.  These are HAPPY things.  The last thing they want to hear is an 8-minute tune about everything that is wrong with society -- good luck getting tips on that.

4) Cover songs are GOOD!  As a songwriter myself, I am obviously an advocate of playing original music, but I have discovered that people will pay attention if they know a song.  So it's important to play covers - if you want to put your own spin on them, that's cool.  In fact, it's probably even better.  A lot of people imitate other artists to little advantage, i.e. singing through your nose trying to be Willie Nelson doing "On the Road Again."

5) Be a pro.  Okay - so you're busking. You can consider yourself a beggar or you can consider yourself a rock star - depending on how you look at it.  When I first started doing this, I sometimes thought people looked at me like a bum.  Then I changed my perspective - lacking another place in Hollywood (at the current time) to share my talents without having to beg my friends to come see me for $10 a ticket I took to the streets (not like that, either).  The way I see it, if this is an avenue to get my music out to a mass public and thereby get some connections, collect some fan e-mail addresses, pass out some business cards so be it.  It's best to  make the most  of it.  That means playing well and being properly amplified (I have tracked my own success with and without amplification and having a  little extra sound does help to get people to notice and save on the vocal cords);  It also means looking good. You might think that it benefits you to not shower, wear a beat-up flannel shirt and use 3-year old strings on your guitar with a hole it.  You may think people will feel sorry for you as a struggling artist  and tip you - but they probably won't.  They will see you as pathetic and think, why should I give that loser my money.  If you offer them a quality performance that is enjoyable and look good doing it, you are more likely to make the busking worth it.  That being said, take advantage of the opportunity and have business cards, CDs, flyers, e-mail sign up sheets - whatever will get you in contact with those people who hear you and like you - available for people (Note to self: DO THIS every time you go play!!!!)

6) Don't sell yourself short.  What I'm referring to here is CD sales.  Many artists I know won't sell their CDs on the street for more than $10 because they say no one will buy them at that price.  Some even sell their full length CDs for $5!!  The cost of my current CD was pretty high and I want to at least make some kind of profit on sales, so for a while I tried offering download cards for $5.  People mistake them for business cards (despite the sign) and I actually ending up giving away some free CDs.  At shows I offer my CDs for $15.  The way I see it, busking is not the same as an in-venue performance - by that I mean there are distractions, people can't sit down and listen - so I offer them for $12.  To date, I have actually sold more than when I was selling my EP for $5.  If people really like your music and want to take your music home with them they will pay the extra price - and they will want more of it; hence, the full-length album. 

7)  Share the love, share the space. Inevitably, if you find a good place to busk, someone else has found it before you or is going to.  I've been known to be kind of bitchy about the space and inconsiderate of other players at times, but there's no need to.  If you adhere to the adage that the universe has enough for everyone you will survive.  My recommendations to handle other players are as follows:

• If someone is there when you show up, ask how long they will be there.  If they don't know, simply ask if they'd be willing to let you start at such and such a time.  A lot of times they will - who honestly can play for more than 3 hours straight???  You might get a crappy time slot at first, but this guy is likely to move on - start getting better gigs, a record deal, etc. and then you can have his prime real estate and time slot. 

• See if this person has a regular time slot and then arrange around it - if you can, get his phone number and text or call before you head to your busking spot to find out if he's there.  If he's not - go for it.

• Find a busking partner.  Some places - like pedestrian malls and gallerias - require you have a permit to play.  They can also require that you move every two hours.  I've never tried this myself, but it might behoove a person to get a busking partner who will "hold the spot" in the interim - you never know.  Sometimes, though, my boyfriend comes along when I busk and we take turns trading off every hour.  This gives one person a chance to rest while the other one plays, saves on vocal cords and the person not playing can help with CD sales, e-mail signups and getting water (though I tend to go look-shopping at the mall when he's playing - BAD ME!!!!).  We have agreed to split the tips (not CD sales) evenly to avoid any bickering over who tipped (ex. you could have just traded spots when someone gives a tip who has been listening to the first performer for much longer) who and who got the better slot with more people passing by. It also helps to have an extra hand for carrying gear if you've got it.  AND we personally use a lot of this money to buy groceries, so since we both made the money we can both share in what we eat!!

8)  Don't ruin it for everyone else.  This should go without saying, but there are people who actually harrass passers-by for tips and who bang on drums in urban centers that include residential dwellings after 10 p.m.  There are buskers who crank their stuff up way too loud or make complete asses of themselves. Bear this in mind:   not everyone is going to tip you.  Some people are going to listen and request songs and not leave you so much as a compliment. Some are going to tell you you suck or to get a real job.  Some are going to give you stink eye as they slink by like minxes.  BUT if you act like a jerk back to them that other guy who was listening across the way is not going to leave you a penny, much less the $20 he was considering giving you. As for noise violations - if you do this, the cops will get called.  They will ask you to leave.  Buskers will be outlawed.  And there goes your chance to make a little (forget that, a LOT) of cash and jump on that opportunity that could be waiting around the corner.  Don't be that guy!

9) If you want to be an established singer/songwriter or musician, don't quit the other stuff. Some buskers really, truly are buskers - I mean, this is what they do for a living and many make a good living at it (probably because they have figured out better advice than mine).  For now, I am happy doing this to supplement the income while I am establishing myself in paying venues.  So, I encourage anyone who is pursuing publishing or performing goals not to give up on them.  Someone once gave me an easy but valid piece of advice: to do three things toward your career every day no matter what.  It could be making a phone call, designing a poster, e-mailing a long lost fan.  Anything.  In my experience, you will start to get burnt out busking - especially on days when people are miserable.  They're are a myriad of reasons why people get this way that you'll never figure out.  It can get you down, but if you are also working toward paid gigs and industry connections - if that's what your heart truly desires - the knowledge that you are working for it is like an antidote to the grumpy pants's of the world.

10) It's really not about that money.  Sure, you headed out to that street corner to make some money - rent is due in five days and you don't know what else to do short of selling a kidney.  But I'm telling you right now, if you start to worry about how much or how little you are making you are putting scarcity on your potential earnings and you won't make anything.  I've had days where I've played for 20 or 30 minutes and not made anything.  Then I realized what I was doing, let go, put the music out there to the Universe - for the sheer joy of creating it - and gone home with $70 - $100 in my pocket - in 2 hours!! It's important to remember why you started making music in the first place.  Even if you're not making much, look at it as a chance to rehearse and (if it's sucking anyway, why not?) try out new songs.  (This piece of advice, personally, applies to all aspects of an artist's career, but I'll save that for another blog.)

So there you have it - my little bits of advice.  Time to don the sunhat, open the guitar case and give it whirl.  We'll see what the weather does tomorrow - if it's down to 95 I might give it a go and even try out my own advice for a change!!!

If you have any additional ideas to add, please feel free to comment.  I can also be reached via e-mail at melaniedevaney@gmail.com.  To hear my music go to: www.reverbnation.com/MelanieDevaney AND be sure to like my  Facebook page.  Thank you and have a great day!

A Recent Journal Entry - welcome to my mind . . .

I don't date my journal entries anymore, but I thoughts I'd share this one with the world . . .

One half of the first cup of coffee.  Two hummingbirds chase each other in flight in pre-coital foreplay bliss.  Richard says I had a dream last night - probably a sex dream as I was moaning and groaning, but I don't remember it.  The landlady has left for Home Depot with her Hispanic workers.  The world is relatively quiet but for the whine of a distant weed whacker.  Sunday morning is no longer sacred.  I'm not talking about pers and altars and First Communion.  I'm talking about the decency to let people sleep in - to some that is a religion in itself. 

Since I've been back from Wyoming, the city seems less abrasive - not completely void of it, just less annoying.  Maybe it's because I've lived here long enough to see through the facade or maybe it's because I came back with something from the North - the desire to spend more time outdoors, to support the locals (farmers' markets), to sit still and look, not to be so ridiculously concerned with appearances.  Whatever it was, it was good for me, I know that. 

The weed whacker encroaches on my territory. In a city, everything must be so well-manicured, from its fauna, to its women, to its vehicles, to its billboards.  I will never really fit in - I know this, but I puppet along for the metropolitan adventure of it.

Sunday Funday

Yesterday, Richard and I confirmed our lack of desire to go play on the street and try to make money.  It was blistering hot - here in California, while the rest of the Northern Hemisphere steadily inches into fall, we are going into the hot season.  It scorches like the wickedness of sin . . . and so, we decided to have a Sunday Funday.  It started with a small lunch at one of our favorite diners.  Here is Richard looking at the menu:

After a nice lunch, we went to the movie theater in Los Feliz where we saw The Rise of the Planet of the Apes.  It wasn't my first choice of a movie as I am just dying to see a romantic comedy or a chick-flick, but I love my man and I let him see "Rise of the Planet of the Apes."  I liked it overall and it has made me look at animals differently - for instance, when the neighbors' visiting pack of dogs all started barking at me, I was certain they were uprising and going to overtake the planet for a short while.  Sometimes I have a hard time watching CG animation, but in this film it wasn't too bad.  I also liked the part where the guy bled from the ears - you can't go wrong with bleeding ears.



On our way back from the movie, we window-shopped. The first place we went was Skylight Books, where I bought nothing, but am thinking about buying a guidebook to Los Angeles.

Even though I have lived here two years, there is STILL so much stuff to do in this city and you never do it unless someone is visiting, so I am going to start treating myself like a visitor and do all of these things.  I think it will also make me feel more at home here and stop missing faraway places like Jerome, Arizona where there is much LESS to do than in L.A., but you do because you are visiting.  Does that make sense?

We also passed the half-off clothing store in Los Feliz that I like even though I never buy anything there.  This shirt was in one of the windows and I thought of several of my girlfriends when I saw it:

I also like the Wonder Woman t-shirt next to it.  Wonder Woman was definitely one of my heroes and I have to thank my mom for buying me that picture book with the tape when I was little and for not stuffing Cinderella and Snow White down my throat, cause those girls were weaklings, but Wonder Woman was strong and thanks to the influence of Wonder Woman in my life I am strong too.

Lastly, I convinced Richard to go to Goodwill with me.  After sitting at a temp job all day on Thursday and Friday and looking at Etsy.com for hours on end I was in the mood to treasure hunt.   In the midst of my treasure hunt, I did get a little nostalgic and felt sorry for all of the CD players that have been abandoned to the shelves of Goodwill:

And the computer monitors . . . 

Richard found a book about Hollywood and I found this kickass 1972 kindergarten music book with AWESOME illustrations by a guy named Jerry Pinkney:

  Does anyone else remember this book?  I had bought a different copy once at the St. Vincenet De Paul in Prescott, Arizona, but I cut it up to use the illustrations for little cards and things.  This time I want to try to learn some of the folk songs for a kid's birthday party I have coming up next month. . . 

So that was my Sunday Funday.  Today it is back on task with work and bookings and playing and rehearsing and etc. etc.  but I have resolved that I am not working on Sundays again EVER, unless it is for a real, paid gig.  Besides, I think it makes Jesus happy when I go out to eat, go to movies and treasure hunt on the Day of Rest. . .

Stuff I've made . . .

In my blog on Friday, I mentioned how in high school, I used to make stuff.  I made it sound like I don't do that anymore, but actually I still do.  The problem with it is that it can become obsessive and then I spend more time making stuff than I do on stuff that I should be working on - like booking gigs, rehearsing, studying, etc. etc.  Sometimes I give this stuff away as gifts, but mostly I just keep it myself and use it or when I move, I just set it out on the curb for someone.  I tried Etsy last summer, but no one bought anything (I didn't try that hard, I admit) so I gave up on that. 

But I want to share some of the stuff I've made with everyone and get comments.  I'm going to make more - it's part of my high school revitalization, so stay tuned.

1. Magnet:

  This is a magnet I made using one of those glass bead-like gems that you put in flower arrangements.  I had bought a bag of them to make decoupage magnets with, but they didn't really work with printed images because the glass had chips and stuff on it.  So I covered it with fabric instead and glued a magnet on.  I really liked the fabric - that's the foremost reason - and couldn't bare to throw away the scraps I had, so I thought this was putting it to a good use.

2. Horse cards

These are a series of four greeting cards that are made with craft paper I found at Michael's several months ago.  I told myself I wouldn't buy anymore craft crap, but there were like 120 AWESOME papers on sale for $5 a piece and I couldn't resist because they were so hip and modern.  I traced these horse magnets I found (I can't draw this well, honestly) and came up with the template.  They are happy and fun and not so "western-y" like other horse stuff you see.  I still like "Western-y" stuff, just wanted to put my own Devaney spin on it.

These are just two examples of stuff I make to keep myself busy.  Someone once asked me after I sent him a card with a picture of Ralph S. Mouse crashing his motorcycle complete with silver thread (going for a bike theme) where I get the time to do this.  I should tell you that I don't have a television.  So you will never read a blog in which I go on about "Glee" or "The Bachelor" or "American Idol."  I also find that doing silly little crafty projects has helped me to quit smoking and that it somehow stimulates my mind - I do a lot of thinking while I am doing stuff like this.  Eventually, I get to paper and write these ideas down, but it's still creative and I like making things that can be used. . .

San Diego - Yay

Last night I had a gig at Cosmos Coffeehouse in San Diego.  Richard and David came along . . . we got so excited about the road tip - stopped at the Mobil station and got like $20 in snack and soda even though we are probably way too old to get this nuts about driving for three or four hours in the car.  On the way down we laughed so hard and it had this great hippie adventure-feeling - I told the guys that I really want a van, but for now my Chevy Malibu will have to do . . . plus it gets way better gas mileage.  We also drove past the San Onofre power plant.  We've driven by it countless times, but David pointed out how it looked like two boobs sticking up out of the ground . . . see . . .

And at night - the lights at the top blink - it's something special!!!  This is also in one of the Naked Gun movies in case it looks familiar to you . . .

My show was in an area East of San Diego called La Mesa.  It kind of reminded me of Dyersville, Iowa - very clean and quiet and sort of growing but sort of not - plus it had a Good Neighbor Pharmacy, which you rarely see.  David saw this store called "All Things Bright and British" and because he has never been overseas decided that he wanted to go in there.  We walked by it once and then he went back in.  I guess he felt bad about bothering the shop owner, and also felt bad that there weren't any customers in there (though they did have some pretty wicked William and Kate coffee mugs) and so he bougt this bag of chocolates:

They were Cadbury Milk Chocolate Buttons - I'm not sure why they had a pig on the cover - except that maybe if you eat too many of them you will eventually look like that . . .

 Eventually, we ate dinner.  This is a picture of us at this cool restaurant.  I put my camera on the '70's setting so that it looked cool.  The shots were taken in a quick succession and I thought they looked sort of panoramic.  I made a panorama on Photoshop, but I fogot to save it and now I'm too lazy to go back and re-do it.

This is me looking at Richard.  I was having a Bo-Ho (not the oboe - but that's a different story for a different blog) day so I'm wearing this $6 thrift store dress, a $2 green bandana I bought at Hobby Lobby in Dubuque, Iowa and this wicked native-looking wooden necklace I bought at a store next to the Frog 'N Peach Pub in San Luis Obispo.  It really doesn't match that well, but I didn't really care.

 This is David looking at a pine tree and drinking iced tea.  He wasn't happy that there were pine needles everywhere on the ground.  He flirted with the waitreess and she thought he was very funny - he kept telling her he wasn't old enough to drink when she tried to upsell us on alcohol.  He was going to leave her the chocolate buttons, but thought better of it.  David was upset when Richard failed to get her number for him.  Richard and I ended up eating the Chocolate Buttons on the way home, though Richard ate more than I did . . .

This is Richard looking at David looking at the pine trees.  He is drinking Coke.  That Richard sure loves his Coke.  I like this picture because it has a very cinematagrophic feel to it.  It wasn't taken with an impressive camera at all- but my video camera does have that '70's setting that makes everything brown so I like how the brown of the Coke goes with the black of his shirt and the tan of his skin and the rocks on the fountain int he background.

Now . . . the service was slow at the restaurant and I was running late to the gig - shame on me.  I got there to find out that I was supposed to start an hour earlier!!! BOOO!!!! But when I got home and checked my records, I did have 8:00 on my schedule AND I looked back through e-mails and don't think I ever got notification of what time I actually was SUPPOSED to start because the guy who booked me was on vacation at the same time I was on tour.  8:00 is always the default time I put on a gig if I don't know the time.  I need to change this habit and leave it TBA so I know to check back in with the owner, but then again, this is why I am a struggling independent artist and not traveling on a tour bus - NOTE TO SELF . . .

So I plugged into the coffeeshop's P.A. and had a pretty good 50-minute set considering that my strings were as dead as a doornail and I didn't expect to get paid anything and there were maybe 4 people in the whole place when I started (it filled in).  It was a really small stage and a small venue so it was definitely better for a solo gig and not a band gig.  I ended up selling some CDs and making a little dough.

On the drive home, David and Richard spent a lot of time talking about the Beatles and nuclear energy.  I was getting really tired, and trying to stay awake so I worked on my rapping (note both P's) skills.  Earlier in the day I had been watching some stuff about Wheelchair Sports Camp and I thought, surely I can do that (someday). Turns out I can't - I don't have any flow - and Richard was really annoyed with me - he told me to stop.  I said, "how am I ever going to get better at my flow if you don't let me practice."  He said "I don't care.  Stop it."  So then he and David got in an argument about Weird Al Yankovic (I was sorry I brought it up).  David thinks he is a genius.  Richard said he would've faded into oblivion if it hadn't been for "Eat It."  While they were arguing, I missed the exit to the 101

so we had to take the 5 all the way to Los Feliz Blvd.  I think I may have missed it way eariler than I thought I needed to take it, but all the same it depressed me because I like to think I am a good L.A. driver . . . We got home relatively early owing to the fact that I had the time of my gig all messed up.  It was irritating that someone that doesn't live in our place but is just visiting had taken a parking space in the new safely secured gated driveway, but I was able to snag David's parking spot when he left and we all parted on good terms with a wonderful, great experience to San Diego.  YAY!!!