"So Why Do I Do This, Anyway?" or, "A Drummer Under The Influence"

Well, there's the mission statement right there, under the title. But more importantly, why write this blog in the first place? Who or what got you inspired enough to actually write about the inanities of your life and work? Well, I have a few inspiration, and it's actually a pretty diverse group. So here are the people most responsible for inspiring me to actually do something in front of my computer other than play Facebook games and caption pictures of cats:

David Goldstein - Seattle, WA

Goldstein, better known simply as 'Goldy', started his blog Horse's Ass (http://www.horsesass.org/) as an extension of a somewhat less-than-serious jab at the voter-initiative system here in Washington, targeting right-wing activist Tim Eyman with an initiative of his own, the sole purpose of which was to declare Eyman "a horse's ass" to all and sundry - even Eyman's mother. While Goldstein's initiative was shot down by a Secretary of State with no sense of humor whatsoever, it led to the blog which was probably the first one I'd ever read. He takes his shots at people, and takes plenty of shots in return. Goldy's biggest moment so far was when he revealed the utter lack of experience then-FEMA chief Michael Brown had in emergency-management in the wake of Hurricane Katrina. And he continues to annoy righties to this day.

Andrew Sullivan - Washington, DC

I've always been taught to respect both sides of an argument, so long as the people making them are factual in what they say and respectful of others. It drives my old-school liberal parents crazy, but it's part of what makes me who I am. Andrew's blog (andrewsullivan.theatlantic.com) gives hope to me that there's some sanity over on the other side of the argument. Even though many would supposedly think as he does, many on the Right consider him something slightly to the left of Satan hisself. Why, you ask? Well, let's see here - he's not an American (English), he's a Catholic (and deeply critical of the current Pope and his policies), and he's openly gay, HIV-positive, and married. And yes, to another guy.

No wonder Sarah Palin is so scared of him. Which explains why I like the guy, though it's much deeper than that. Having the balls to call out people on (theoretically) his own side for their bullshit takes big brass cojones, and that's something I respect greatly.

Jason Davis - Washington, DC (metro)

The old adage goes "you've got to start somewhere." I met Jason on the comment forums on ESPN's website, talking soccer - more often defending it from dullards who think soccer is gay/retarded/socialist/un-American/whatever - and he was encouraging readers to check out his blog Match Fit USA (http://www.matchfitusa.com/). And in the space of a few years, he's gone from him and thoughts rambling in the middle of the night to running one of the best American soccer blogs on the net, with the awards to prove it.

"Elli" - Vancouver, BC (metro)

Yeah, that's her name. The name she wants you to know. Y'see, she's an independent..... oh, fuck it. She's an internet porn star. Well, she doesn't really like being called a 'porn star', but that's what she does for a living, and doing it pretty much all by herself. I came across her blog (elligirl.livejournal.com - NSFW) very much by accident. Seriously. One day I was just surfing, linking from one blog to another, pretty much at random. I can't even remember the name of the blog I was on when I saw a link that read "The Reluctant Porn Star".

I'm a guy. How the hell am I going to pass that up? Well, I didn't, and while she advertises her adults-only website regularly on her blog, she also talks about things far more normal than her latest videos. To be honest, when I cook ribs, the recipe is hers. I've swiped a couple other recipes from her as well. I've grumbled at her successful gardening. She's a good photographer of things other than herself (her archive of nature pictures on Flickr reminded me a lot of home when I lived in Reno). I've been utterly lost when she talks tech (I wager that she has the skillset to be the IT manager for a fairly large business - though that would probably mean a pay cut for her). But what really made me a fan of her blog was a post where she revealed that most of her family was none too pleased about her career choice, and that this made holidays really uncomfortable for her. I can sympathize with that. A lot. Admitting something like that takes a lot of bravery. And as you may have guessed by now, bravery is something I admire greatly.

Jamie Harvey - Fredericksburg, TX

This is almost an obituary of sorts, though I hope she wouldn't take it that way. She has enough of that on her hands right now as it is. Like Elli, Jamie is quite pretty, formidably intelligent, and very tech-savvy. Unlike Elli though, Jamie is very safe for work. Until recently, she was arguably San Francisco's premier music-scene blogger, known as the Hard Rock Chick (http://www.hardrockchick.com/). She averaged close to 100 shows a year that she attended, mostly in the Bay Area but often venturing far and wide to follow her favorite artists and bands. And her vast knowledge of Nine Inch Nails trivia, lore, and legend even helped settle an argument between Joy and I. Allow me to explain:

Y'see, Joy had told me for some time that her sister-in-law had a nephew who supposedly was Trent Reznor's touring bass player for a while. My sister-in-law is one of the nicest Mormons I've ever met, and while I've known more than a few Mormon black-sheep growing up (Thad Huhn, where are you?), including the one I've been married to for sixteen years. But I just had a hard time believing that my very normal-looking sister-in-law had a nephew like that. Jamie not only confirmed that it was so, but also provided me a link of said nephew trashing the Orlando Hard Rock Cafe during a solo performance.

And Jamie has had the willingness to reveal her darker moments as well. Concert and CD reviews could often be as much about her mood at the moment as it was about the bands she was there to see and hear. A review of Alice In Chains offered glimpses into dark corners of her adolescence that I could seriously identify with. Abusive exes and confused, not necessarily supportive family members (she once wrote that she was asked by a relative if she was gay simply because she lived in San Francisco - she worked for Sega in the videogame biz there) surfaced in reviews of black-metal bands and Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. And she had a geek-out moment with the best of them when she followed NIN last summer for a few weeks, culminating in meeting The Reznor himself at an airport in Southern California when he told her through the NIN iPhone app that he was literally standing right behind her. But she recently left it all behind to return to Texas to care for her seriously-ill mother. We're friends on Facebook nowadays, but I've been hard-pressed to talk to her since she went home - how do you wish the best of luck to someone caring for a gravely, perhaps terminally ill parent?

I guess what all five of these people have in common is a certain kind of perseverance. The ability to be honest with oneself to others, to complete strangers. To hang yourself and your thoughts and opinions out there for all to see, to support or criticize, and to do so without fear. That is something I admire greatly, and aspire to emulate when I write these things out for you, dear reader.

Now if you'll excuse me, there's a chuck roast downstairs that should be thawed out and ready for my attentions. And no, I didn't swipe this recipe from Elli. I got it from Alton Brown.

So there.

Is This Worth It Anymore?

I just don't know. More and more this is just becoming another job to me. And anyone who knows my track record when it comes to employment would know that when I start to consider being the drummer in a band as merely being a job, you just know the shit's gonna hit the fan, and soon. Just being in a band is no longer enough. It's not that I want to run a band, it's that I want to actually contribute to the processes of the band and not merely do what I'm told and otherwise shut the fuck up.

I've also lost a lot of respect for a certain agent. When I'm told from on high that I must go to the Atlantis and prostrate myself at their feet and beg forgiveness for my 'personal problem' without anyone hearing my side of the story (does anyone read this?), only to find that even that opportunity was taken away from me before I'd even had a chance to do so, I have come to the full realization of just how musicians are regarded here. Like week-old shit.

Friends, neighbors and colleagues, this has got to stop. When we get less respect than a burger-flipping miscreant at McDonald's, why is that? When the local media prefers to talk about the days-gone-by of the orchestras that used to do our jobs rather than us, why is that? When any talk of making things better for ourselves is met with cold hostility and threats of blacklisting, why is that? It's because nobody takes us seriously, that's why.

It's up to us to change that. I was actually serious when I said that delivering pizza was beginning to look better than dealing with this, and I know that I've invested way too much time, effort and money into this to just walk away like that. I'm sure that there are things I could do to make myself better, but I also know that we as a group must make changes as well, or else we'll be making even less money and enduring even more shit than we already are now.

So how do we get there from here...............?

A Very Long Night

Last night was pretty weird. I leave for the Atlantis fairly late now, because I have no real reason to be early. I'm not interested in seriously altering the set-up of the Vkit for this last gig (aside from tilting the snare a bit towards me), and I have no other equipment to assemble, arrange and align, so why bother? As long as Robert has a mic set up for my vocals, I'm a (reasonably) happy camper. Yet there's a surprise waiting for me as I go up to the stage. Along side Robert is Atlantis' Entertainment Director, the man in charge of dealing with the cabaret bands, as well as the national-level and international acts that play in the second-floor ballrooms.

We've talked before. A few months back, I talked to him about possibly purchasing the Atlantis' old plexiglass drum screen. He blew smoke politely, and theorized that the price would likely be far higher than I was even remotely interested in paying for. This was a key moment in my decision to move to triggering my drums.

He introduced himself, this being the first time we'd talked face-to-face, and asked me how things were going. I looked him square in the eye that things were okay, aside from being falsely accused of damaging the kick drum, which really didn't matter any more because I was leaving the band at the end of the week, then went back to adjusting the snare stand. He looked at me for several moments, while I ignored him. I think he was trying to place the voice, and comprehend what I'd said. Being the only drummer in the conversation, I could've told him about Cockbreath McPothead's accusation in Klingon, and I doubt he'd have understood any better. He then promptly left. I was rather surprised that he was there, since his usual schedule has him coming into work usually at 6 or 7 in the morning. I wonder who asked him to come by? I'll have to ask Robert that tonight. I'd also cut my hair short the night before (Joy was upset that I didn't leave her a chunk of long hair in a ponytail to play with) so I think they were expecting someone with long hair. I also found out that Joy had lodged a complaint with the Atlantis over Cockbreath McPothead, and found that a majority of my friends amongst the employees thought he was full of shit. Perhaps I'll get what I want.......

But I'm not holding my breath.

The Graceful Departure

It'll be hard to accomplish. The useless cockbreath AV tech, who unchecked jealousy and ego started this, will still be there for the remainder of my employment, albeit only in passing due to shift change. The AV tech that I'll be working with for the rest of the week is a much better tech, and a bigger man than Cockbreath McPothead. He'd also shown some concerns that I'd played too hard, until I'd noticed and shown to him that the TD-20 kick-drum pad had been set up improperly, with the pad's anchoring spurs not set at the same height. It'll take some explaining to him that I won't be coming back to the Atlantis after Sunday. Ever.

So what will I do in the interim? I've removed all my equipment from the stage area. Gone is my $400 wireless headset microphone, my high-tech Easton AHEAD alloy drumsticks, my comfortable drum throne, my pedals, my repair kit, even my monitoring headphones. Why bother with it all? The drums themselves have been turned down to virtually zero, and I walk into the building with only a single pair of cheap generic 7AN sticks. I play so lightly that I doubt anybody can hear anything. With the band's sequences including full drum tracks, the tourists really can't tell the difference. I've even toyed with the idea of simply shutting off the drum controller, and just spend the night tapping pads and hoping I'm not doing permanent damage to my back because of the nice but backrest-free throne. Why bother with the risk of damaging my own equipment? Just the barest necessities will do. Now if I could only find my hair trimmer.....

I will simply do my job for the last five nights, just with the barest minimum of effort. I still have my courier route, and a second part-time job will suffice. I'll find an original band somewhere along the line, and play because I want to rather than playing because I have to just to keep the lights on and the rent paid. And I'll play before audiences that actually want to see me and whatever band I'm in play, rather than some anonymous amalgamation of drunken tourists who keep screaming out requests for songs I've never played before, some I'd never even heard of before.

I think this blog will help me keep my hand in the game as it were, allowing my fellow musicians around the country to gripe, complain, and more importantly, organize. We can only stand up to shitty venues, companies, and people if we stand up together.

Welcome To My World

Have you ever played a gig somewhere, where you just didn't get treated well? Not by the crowd, but by the venue and/or its staff. Whether it's the cost to rent the venue, the friendliness (or lack thereof) of the people who work there, safety issues, etc., there are places out there that take advantage of you and your band, screw you over, treat you like shit...... you know the deal.

Well, here's a place to talk about it, point out those who take advantage of us, expolit and abuse us, and to stand up to the bastards and eventually either get them to change their ways, or run them out of business.

And since my gripe is the germinating seed of this blog, I'll fire the first salvo right now. This is cross-posted from my MySpace blog:

"I stand before you, accused of being myself. Of being a drummer. Of not being willing to suck up to a low-IQ'd AV tech who seems to have it in for me, why I have no idea. Allow me to elaborate.

As you may or may not know, the Atlantis in Reno purchased a Roland TD-20 V-Drum kit about a year and a half ago, because of noise concerns about us noisy, obnoxious drummers, never mind that we had a screen up on the stage for just that reason. About eight motnths ago or so, a drummer of limited brain capacity set up his bass pedal so far-off center that it actually caused damage to the head of the kit's bass-drum pad (NOTE: with V-Kits, you have to be careful to set the beaters of your bass pedals dead center, because that's where the actual contact pad is located). A series of temporary patches has come and gone, with the most recent being a section cut from an old acoustic bass drumhead, taped into place with gaffer tape.

Last week was the first time I'd played there in over two months. And I noticed a small tear in the patch. It was under the right-hand pedal of my double-bass pedal, but after careful analysis, I determined that I couldn't have done it, because the actual point of initial impact of that beater was not on the tear. But I was accused of having done da dirty deed, and then accused of having caused the original damage to the head in the first place by AV tech Steven, who then bragged about how he was going to get me kicked out of the Atlantis, by my 'brother-in-law' no less.

Author's Note: I have only one brother-in-law, and he's a tugboatman in Port Angeles, WA. I think Steven meant my stepdaughter's fiancee Bill, who works in Atlantis' Security department.

Oh, I got pissed off. Who wouldn't, when they're falsely accused? Especially by a person who is utterly clueless when it comes to music, and especially drums and percussion! I debunked every accusation with ease, and then Calvin told me not to worry about it. Tuesday night I was informed that the Atlantis had decided that all the damage was my fault, that it was solely because I hit too hard, and because I use a double-pedal, which I was now barred from using. I chose to punch a wall rather than an AV tech. Calvin chose not to stand up for me, even though I'd showed him how I was right, and they were wrong. I can also name two or three players who are there as often as I am, who play a whole fuck of a lot harder than I do. To be totally honest, that kit is getting close to falling apart, and it's not because of any individual that plays it. It's a group effort, dozens of drummers playing a total of eight hours a night, six nights a week, fifty-two weeks a year. Do the math. That's 2,496 man-hours a year (2,504 if New Year's Eve falls on the regular off-night of Monday), far more than it's designed for, and I'm responsible for about twelve percent of that at best. And I've been made the scapegoat.

I am nobody's fucking scapegoat, now or ever."

Now here's the disclaimer. I have no beef with Atlantis Casino Resort & Spa, or the family that owns the place. They and their employees have been led astray a craven little bastard of an AV tech who wouldn't know a paradiddle from a paddle. I work hard for my pay, and I want justice, pure and simple. Nothing more, nothing less. And I've decided that this week will be my last appearance there until the offending AV tech is fired. Nothing violent, because I know that if I lose my temper someone's going to the hospital, and I'll be going to jail.

What do you think? Do you have a venue, or a person, that's on your shit list? Let me know!