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The Burlesque Show will be okay, I think. Dress rehearsal today in Laurelhurst Park in Portland, and everybody seemed to know their lines, including me. We’ll do one more dress rehearsal, the afternoon before the show (Sept. 26), and that will be at the Hawthorne Theater itself. Recording was good, too. I continue to be impressed with this band. The songs we were familiar with—i.e., that have been regular inclusions at our gigs—were note-perfect the first time. Even “Rotten Candy,” which I think we’ve only played once, and that back at Garibaldi Days in July, we only had to do twice. Besides “Rotten Candy,” we’ve got “Free-Range Person” and Stan Good’s “Un-Easy Street” in the can. We also played, while we were setting the sound levels, “Armadillo on the Interstate” (which is on the album list and the setlist for the “Rocktoberfest”) and “For Their Own Ends” (which is on the “Rocktoberfest” list—being a rock song, and all). What we did were “scratch tracks” of everything—a live recording against which John wants to re-record all the parts separately—rhythm guitar, bass, drums, vocal, and (when we find one) lead. However, it’s quite possible that the “scratch tracks” may be as good as anything we could do “layered.” It was tight; we knew what we were doing; and the band (and the recording) are good. We still don’t have a lead player (my job to find one, I guess)—or a name. The suggestion was made that they could just (like the old song says) call us Irresponsible. Maybe they should. We are all adults, after all, and probably should know better. The “Favorite Show” was good, too. Problems with the sound system (I’m not sure why that happens everywhere I go—do I make electronic equipment freak out?) made the show start late, so my “pre-rounds” (a square dance term for what happens before the Real Dance) was two songs instead of six. People liked what I did. The other performers in the “Favorite Show” were mostly standup comics (four of them), and two guys did comic videos (one of them also being one of the standup comics). Interesting stuff. I think standup is a really hard gig—what I do is easier, because I have a guitar to hide behind. However, my music is definitely a good fit with this stuff. Interesting, too, that all but one of the standup comics tended to define themselves in terms of what they do for a living. I don’t—of course, it’s not like I’m doing anything for a living right now—but I never have, really. Part of that is a deliberate attempt on my part to keep music separate from work, and part of it is deliberately trying to escape what I once heard called an East Coast tendency to define one’s self by one’s job (and I’m from the East Coast, after all). That’s a tendency to be avoided, I think; if the sociologists are correct, and in the Modern Era a person will change careers a good seven times before retirement, wouldn’t defining one’s self in terms of one’s job give one an awful case of multiple-personality disorder? The Urban Grind East is a beautiful place—a big industrial warehouse space with a lot of seating and intimate as well as public spaces. I’d like to perform there. Everybody kept waiting for the owner to show up (he reportedly normally comes to the “Favorite Show” nights), but he never did. I left a CD with the baristo. (I also presented one of my “Another Thong from Joe” thongs to host Whitney.) UPCOMING: Job interviews Monday (in Eugene, 200 miles away), Tuesday (in Manzanita, 25 miles away—a lot better), and Friday (in Salem—90 miles and a 2-hour drive over bad roads). Tuesday afternoon, I’ve been asked to sit in on speech practice at the high school (where I’ve applied to be assistant speech coach). Music just Friday this week—but we may have the chance to do some more recording a couple of evenings. Burlesque Show Saturday. Time to send out the invites. Joe

Music Friday; Burlesque Show rehearsals Saturday and Sunday; the Urban Grind show Saturday night; band recording Sunday morning; job interviews Monday and Tuesday. I feel like a four-day hole is being ripped out of my generally empty life. That means today and part of tomorrow is the only time I’ve got left to do Empty Life things in. I have the rest of the recording equipment to move out into the garage studio (which is clean, now), the thongs to print, more jobs to apply for, two of April’s songs to record, a Derek Hines song to musicate and record, and the e.e. cummings poem (at least my part of it) to memorize for the Burlesque Show. Considering Mary Travers (of Peter, Paul and Mary) just passed on, it’d probably be good to mention in the Burlesque Show how much sleaziness Mary was able to inject into a children’s song: “Take me… for a ride… in your… car-car.” The studio is an impressively funky little space now, quite comfortable to spend time in. I’ll have to video it. There are (surprisingly) places for everything, including the music computer I’m going to assemble out of the three used hulks I got at the college’s garage sale. Come winter, though, it will be hard to heat—it is uninsulated. And the spate of 90-degree weather we’re scheduled to get through the end of September won’t last. It is going to get cold. Whipped up (it really doesn’t take much time) a draft certificate of appreciation for the local library to give to the businesses who donated to the Summer Reading Program. (And of course it looks good. I used to do this stuff for a living, and made money at it.) I’m doing it for the library for free, asking them to provide only the fancy paper; since these are going out to local businesses (rather a lot of them), I’d like it to bring in some business from them. I offered to do the album covers and liner notes for Sara Charlton’s CD for free, too, for the same reason. (She plans on having it out in the spring.) One breaks in (or back in) to the graphic-design field the same way one does music—you do favors for people, and eventually it comes back. And you hope you don’t starve first. The Portland Songwriters Assn. has become something of a mystery. I tried to join (I consider the $18 a major commitment, considering my lack of income), but my letter with the dues got returned—apparently their P.O. box is closed. No one has answered my e-mail, and I notice the last posts on their message board were back in January. (And of course, the open mike I went to last Sunday night wasn’t happening, either—the bartender at the Spare Room said it had stopped a couple months ago. But it’s still listed on the Portland Songwriters Assn. Website.) I wonder what happened to them? It’s like they’ve disappeared—victims of alien abduction, or something. I do have (from their Website) the edresses of a couple of folks who apparently used to be active in the group, and I’ll see if I get any response from them. I finally did get something from the Neskowin Valley School—not an e-mail, or even a response to my attempts to contact them about the harvest Festival, but just a form-letter thingie announcing that the Harvest Festival is going to be Saturday, 10 October, the same day as the “Rocktoberfest.” That means I can’t do it—but it doesn’t seem like whoever’s in charge of the thing is particularly interested in having me perform there, anyway. The best I can assume is they haven’t contacted me because they’re too disorganized (I noticed they were disorganized last year)—but that assumes a perfection on my part that may not be justified. They may really just not want me back. And I’ll probably never know. Joe

I had a nightmare last night. I dreamed the band was going on stage for the “Rocktoberfest,” and I hadn’t done a setlist—and hadn’t the faintest idea what we were going to play (and the band didn’t, either). I decided to take care of that as soon as I woke up. We’ve got 40 minutes, which is 8 songs. I think we’ll do: Dead Things in the Shower (fast two-step) Armadillo on the Interstate (slow & sleazy) Bluebird on My Windshield (fast bluegrass) For Their Own Ends (folk-rock) Duct Tape (mod. fast two-step) Eatin’ Cornflakes from a Hubcap Blues (mod. slow quasi-blues) Free-Range Person (fast bluegrass) Un-Easy Street (mod. two-step) We have, I notice, started every show we’ve done with “Dead Things.” It’s not what I’d have considered an opening number, but the band likes it, and drops into it real comfortably. And we do “rock it up” good. “For Their Own Ends” is going to make us famous if it doesn’t make Southern Pigfish famous; it is at this point our only rock-‘n’-roll song, and it invariably gets people up dancing. I had asked why people liked it—the lyrics are very obscure, and you can see people looking puzzled even while they’re dancing—and it was suggested it was because I obviously have so much fun singing it. I guess I do. The setlist is mostly high-energy stuff (which the band are good at); starts off with dead animals, and closes on a more serious note. Probably doesn’t offend anybody, though—no bestiality, no pokes at religion, no live-animal sex (well, except for the armadillos—and that’s pointedly Shakespearean, and therefore educational). I assume we’re playing to a generally family crowd. Let the kids who come after us be sleazy. We’ll be adults. I still need to find us a lead player. Last of the Fool’s parts is fleshed out for the Burlesque Show (nothing like waking up from a no-setlist nightmare to get you taking care of business first thing in the morning). The Fool is definitely going to come across as Larry the Cable Guy meets the Oracle at Delphi. (Yes, it’s type-casting—but it’ll be easy to pull off.) Got my three songs picked out; now, I need to practice reciting an e.e. cummings poem about driving a car while I’m playing some halfway sleazy music on the guitar. I’ll need to have the cummings piece memorized, even though I’ll be pretending to read it on stage. FOUR calls for job interviews this morning; hey, this is getting good. Monday 9/21, I get interviewed by State DHS to be an office manager in Eugene (200 miles away); Tuesday 9/22, it’s Nehalem Bay Fire & Rescue, the new fire district here on the Coast, to be their administrative assistant person; and Wednesday, 9/30, I’ll have an all-day round of interviews about being City Recorder in Woodburn, south of Portland. Monday, 10/6, I have a job interview at the fish hatchery in Trail, in southern Oregon, to be their (I think) one-person office. I’ll go down a day ahead of time for that one, and leave the morning after, and play music while I’m in the area. Eugene… I hadn’t expected that one—and with my luck, that’s the one that’ll happen, because I hadn’t thought of it. Second-biggest city in Oregon; a college town (two colleges, in fact), with the second-biggest bookstore in Oregon, a songwriters association (one of only 4 in Oregon), and some nice, funky neighborhoods to live in (that are probably way too expensive on the salary I’ll be getting). I would have to live there, ‘cause it’s much too far from the Coast (200 miles) to commute. And I know a fiddle player who lives there. All the attention feels good (and I have needed that)—but I can’t forget the mantra of Chuck Cushman, head of the National Inholders Assn. (and my boss when I was a lobbyist): “Never confuse Motion with Progress.” Nice to have the activity, but I haven’t accomplished anything yet. Joe

I have a script (finally) for the Burlesque Show—and it’s pretty good. I’ve scripted out one of the Fool’s scenes, and have one more to do. The show will include three of my songs: “Electronic Love,” “The Termite Song” (both in response to Ann Landers-type advice questions), and “Can I Have Your Car When the Rapture Comes” (after a presentation by the Snake-oil Salesman). Rehearsals Saturday and Sunday next weekend; I’ll miss the music session at the Tillamook Library Saturday, but would like to make sure the Sunday rehearsal doesn’t interfere with the band’s recording. Had a couple twin sisters (retirement age) show up at the Friday Night Group; they knew some old bluegrass songs, and were obviously used to performing (they said their dad had had a band). It was nice. They said they’d heard about it in the paper—and as far as I know, the only mention of the Friday Night Group in the paper was in my column. Could people actually be reading it? Tentatively, John, Chris and I will record again Sunday, 9/20. We’ll try to do “base” tracks for 3 or 4 songs—the ones I’d like Jeannette to play fiddle on before she stops visiting the Coast for the winter. I think those should be “Dead Things in the Shower,” “Armadillo on the Interstate,” Un-Easy Street,” and maybe “Rotten Candy.” That last could get by with just a guitar lead if we have to. I can do a decent guitar lead myself on “Un-Easy Street,” and could fake the others—but it’d be nice to have a lead by somebody who was good at it. The jobs I’ve applied for this week are all local, again—but the two interviews I had this week were for jobs in Salem. And I got a letter from State Fish & Wildlife asking if I was still interested in their office-manager job in Trail, in southern Oregon—and I am. Early October, I think, is when they want to do interviews. I may have an excuse to visit folks down there again. Fish & Wildlife’s letter did prompt the question of which I’d rather have, a job in town or one far away, and I really don’t think I have any “druthers.” I would druther simply have a job, period, and whoever gets me first, gets me. (I’ve been saying that since I first became unemployed.) And I won’t regret the decision, whatever it is. I have fantasized about going to live and work in all sorts of weird places over the last year, and—being obsessive about having scripts and following them—know pretty much how I’d approach it, no matter where I went. I also know what I’d do here on the Coast. There are advantages to both (disadvantages, too), but I can’t do both. I have thongs (found two more while I was cleaning out the garage studio.) These things are SMALL—I might be able to get six labels out of a single sheet of T-shirt transfer material. It’d be nice if I could make just the letters print—no background color, in other words; I seem to remember producing a sweatshirt that way (and being surprised at how it came out), but I don’t remember what I did. One of the problems with being a “Renaissance man,” and being able to do a little of everything, is I don’t remember how to do anything very well. I won’t have a chance to work on the thongs until Monday. Monday, too, will be my opportunity to work on April’s songs. Sunday, after Burlesque Show cast meeting, I went to one of the open mikes advertised on the Portland Songwriters Assn.’s Website—at a big bar hight The Spare Room, in northeast Portland—and it wasn’t happening. The bartender told me the open mike had stopped a couple of months ago, because they weren’t getting many musicians. (Too bad—the place has a large, beautiful dance floor.) And they reportedly tried having a DJ, but that apparently just produced police problems. So I left them a CD, and told them I was interested in being their Sunday night music. (Never stop selling.) Next week, I’ll try a different open mike—there’s still two more on the PSA list. I should call first, though. Joe

Here’s the details on the Sept. 19 gig. I’ll be part of something called the “Favorite Show”—a monthly (I think) showcase hosted by Whitney Hampson, one of the ringleaders in and for Life’s SubtleTease, the burlesque troupe. It’s at Urban Grind East, a coffeehouse at 2214 NE Oregon (just north of Sandy Blvd.) in Portland. Saturday, 19 September, when the doors open at 8 p.m., I’ll be playing. When the Official Show starts at 8:30, I’ll be the first act on. It’ll be just a couple of songs; there are, I understand, multiple acts, and it all moves pretty fast. I’ll have a new stack of CDs to sell (I finally broke down and got more made), but they’re the same old CDs. The new one won’t come out until this winter. This is my latest attempt to break into the Portland market—something I’d really like to do, but haven’t had much success at yet. I expect it’s because I haven’t tried hard enough. Here’s a thought: I’m traveling to Portland at least once a week, this month, for Burlesque Show cast meetings every Sunday. There are at least three open mikes in Portland on Sunday nights (and that’s just on the Portland Songwriters Assn.’s calendar—I’m sure there are others). I’ll take the guitar (and CDs, of course). I’m in town, right? It’s an opportunity, too, to promote the Burlesque Show and anything else I’ve got scheduled. Portland is a lot like Nashville, in that there’s an active live-music scene, but a lot of people are chasing very few dollars. (At least, it doesn’t appear to be as much of a closed club as Nashville.) To fully exploit it, one really ought to be living there—but I don’t want to live there. I had my fill of the big city when I was a kid growing up in Syracuse, N.Y. The Operative Question (as Richard Nixon used to call it) is what kind of impact I can have attacking the Portland scene from the outside. It’ll take a while, but I don’t dare begrudge the time. Thing is, it costs a tank of gas to make a trip to Portland. I just need to make sure to play music when I’m already making the gas investment in something else. UPCOMING: Job interview Thursday 9/10, to be a planner for state emergency management (that’s the place that e-mailed me instructions how to get past the guards and locked gates—sounds like an interesting place to work already). While I’m in Salem, I’ll pick up thongs, and stop by the giant bookstore (where I have over $50 worth of credit). Music just Friday this week, at City Hall. They won’t be having music again at the Tillamook Library until Saturday the 19th—the day of my Urban Grind gig. I didn’t get to film Rufus on Labor Day; that’s going to have to wait until Sunday the 13th. Sunday the 13th we should be having another sit-down of the Burlesque Troupe, too. I wrote up (as requested) a “character map” of my stage persona, The Fool (we all adopted Tarot cards as trademarks); I think the purpose is to give the other actors clues as to what you’d do, or how you’d act, in various situations. It’s probably important for a group that operates as much in ad-lib territory as this one does. I envisioned The Fool as a zelig—the Woody Allen character who shows up in all the famous photographs but nobody can figure out why. He’s the guy everybody recognizes, but no one actually knows—he’s always somebody else’s friend. Like me, in other words. If I’m being myself on stage, I at least know how to behave. One of the things I told them was I was obsessive about scripts: Must have a script, and must follow the script. At this point, with the show less than three weeks away, I still haven’t seen a script. And with my fixation on being thoroughly rehearsed, I have to know how I fit in. I’m not even sure what songs to play yet. I get to try musicating a couple of “Nashville April” Johns songs this weekend, too. I’ll give her a just-music track she can record her own (very good) voice to One of them, “Family Portrait,” is one of those heart-rending lost-love songs, but expressed in a slightly unexpected way. It could go somewhere. I’ll see if I can’t give her a vehicle to run with. Joe

I bought a book at a yard sale Saturday. I thought I’d add it to my Music Business Library (it’d be Book #3), but now I’m not so sure. Hight “The Mansion on the Hill,” it purports to be a history of how rock ‘n’ roll lost its soul to the record companies. What I’ve read of it is a history of the marketing guys who seized on rock music as a potentially salable commodity, and proceeded to sell it. I’m not sure “soul” had anything to do with it. It is true that the music business has since passed out of the hands of people who were passionate about music and into the hands of people passionate just about selling—but that is the way of sales organizations, after all. It has passed, too, from an “I can sell this” attitude to an “I can sell anything, so the product doesn’t matter” one. It’s a hubris similar to that which brought down the Big Three automakers (who not many years ago were the Big Four)—at some point, people will figure out a way to buy what they want rather than what you’re selling. That’s happening—that’s why sales of commercial CDs are plummeting. But I don’t think “soul” has anything to do with it. We’re seeing simply the failure of a hubris-based business plan. Myself, I am inclined to ignore the record industry and its problems. They’re concerned about the sale of CDs, because that’s how they make their money. I don’t. What money I make off music is directly related to performance. I’ve sold CDs—sometimes it feels like I’ve sold a lot of them—but every one has been sold at or as a result of a performance. If I want to make money in music, I need to perform. (Of course, I’m not really a performer. I’m a writer. I have simply learned how to be a performer because until I get way more famous, nobody’s going to be performing my material but me. It’s a means to an end, in other words. Can’t forget that.) But I’m not making much off performing. The key there, I think, is I have to get known by more people—enlarge the fan base, in other words. Performing more helps; folks who have heard me once do tend to come back. All the networking stuff helps, too, but it’s got to be tied into performance, I think. I’ll use the Internet as a publicity tool—I don’t see any way I can make money off it, and I don’t think I’ll try. “Butts in chairs,” as one accountant put it, “is the bottom line.” (And that accountant might even have been me. I don’t remember.) I hear a lot of talk these days about a New Business Model, or at least the need for one; what I just described is actually a very old business model. I think it’s still valid. How does that translate into a work program? Well, I wanted to take some classes this fall; one of them ought to be in Website design. The local community college is offering one, and like a lot of classes these days, it’s on line. I haven’t had much luck creating a Joe Website on my own, but I need one—a central location that can link to everything else: the blogs, the music, the videos, the “joelist,” &c. And we go after some gigs—solo and with the band. The band is scheduled to play at the “Rocktoberfest” 10 October (still need a lead player), and I’ve messaged the Neskowin Valley School about their Harvest Festival benefit; I’m trying to get a solo gig at Border’s in Beaverton (and I have the Urban Grind gig Sept. 19 and the Burlesque Show Sept. 26). All (or any) of those will cross-promote each other, and the more I have, the more I can promote. Did I mention jobs? All of the recent job applications have been local—two at the Library (one full-time, one part-time), one at the school district (to be part-time assistant speech coach)—and I’ve got one more to turn in, to be secretary for the new Fire District. I might really get to be a homeboy. (I get to keep my soul, too.) That would be cool. Joe

I got word today that Sharma Kay—dear friend, fellow writer, inveterate encourager, and bass player in our brief Portland band—died, with her dad, in a car accident in California. She was, like, 37. Right now, her Website, www.musesk.com, is being maintained by friends—which she has a lot of. I’m sure it’ll take a little time to sink in; right now, it just feels weird, realizing that no matter what happens, she won’t be around any more. Labor Day weekend is here, but for the unemployed, it’s nothing special; every day’s a non-working day. Music at City Hall with the Friday Night Group went well—nice crowd, with a bunch of out-of-town folks—and there’ll be music Sunday at the Tillamook Forestry Center. Monday afternoon I’ve arranged to video Rufus the dog doing Dog Things for Episode 4 of the “Joe Show”—I want to do “Me and Rufus, and Burnin’ Down the House” for the song. The discussion will—one more time, I think—be about inspiration. It would be nice if I could film something appropriate for background for the discussion, too. The 19 September gig at Urban Grind East will be a short one, so there should be time to attend Mason’s bluegrass thing the same day. I still don’t know if I’m just listening, or if he’d like me to play. I did get an invite to play a Hillsboro coffeehouse, the Insomnia Coffee Co., Saturday night 5 September (their scheduled act apparently bailed on them), but I decided to pass—this time; I would like to do it, but one day is really short notice. I’d like to have enough warning so I can do some serious marketing. And I hope I did the right thing. They haven’t responded to any of my e-mails since I told them “no,” and it’s possible that was my only shot at a gig there Jeannette, our retired concert violinist who’s been playing with the Friday Night Group, said she’ll still be coming out from Portland to visit until the weather turns bad, so I hit her up to play fiddle on a couple of songs on the New Album—and she’s willing and interested. (We did one of the songs tonight at City Hall—“Hey, Little Chicken.”) I have a couple more Friday Night Group musicians I want to tap, too—Wayne on lead guitar, and “Chippewa Bob” on the musical saw. I’ll give them all CDs with “their” songs on ‘em, and then we’ll be on John’s schedule. I want to record a “base” track that’s just rhythm guitar and drums, I think (we’ll include a “scratch” vocal and bass, too, that John can replace later), and then we can layer the lead instruments one by one as the opportunities present themselves. I am assuming that in most cases we’ll be able to record the lead in one or two takes; we’ve been able to do that thus far. Everybody is really good at what they do. I want a “whiny” lead (fiddle, harmonica, or saw) and a “non-whiny” lead (me or Wayne on lead guitar, or Denise on Jews’ harp) on every song this time around, I think. I’ve got the studio to clear out and turn into a computer-repair facility, a computer to build from the parts I got at the college’s yard sale, a DVD drive and extra hard drive to install in “Alice,” house to clean, and classes to register for. And I’ve done none of it. I still need to re-do the Episode 3 video, too, which I’ve been putting off—I like things to be perfect the first time. Still need, too, a lead player—and it pretty much doesn’t matter what instrument—for the “Rocktoberfest” concert on 10 October. I guess that one devolves on me, too, as part of the job of being front man for the band. I am supposed to know people. I wonder if I do… Joe

A firm “no” from Gold Hill—they do not want me as their city manager. I had figured after the interview (which was a short one) they’d already made their minds up, and it wasn’t me, and I was right. (Sometimes I hate being right.) It’s disappointing in part because so many friends in southern Oregon were hoping I would get the job, and be moving back. Oh, well… I’ll send Gold Hill The Letter (haven’t sent it to anyone else thus far), thanking them for interviewing me and wishing them luck with the path they’ve chosen. There’s still one state job in southern Oregon I understand I’m on the short list to be interviewed for, but that’s about it. If I don’t get that—and I’m not feeling awfully hopeful right now—a southern Oregon job is probably just not in the cards. I’ll just have to visit when I get the chances. Continuing to be a city manager is probably not in the cards, either—I’ve been away from it for over a year, and that’s probably too long. I still have a few city-manager applications in the pipeline, but I am getting interviewed for other things now, and expect I will just be re-inventing myself all over again. It was a nice 15-year ride; it financed most of my daughter’s growing up, and even allowed us to be the quintessential Donna Reed Family through most of that period. I can’t complain. I think the way things are going to go is I’ll be here, living on the Coast, in the house I’m still paying for, and I’ll have either a collection of part-time jobs locally, or else one of those state gigs within commuting distance, and I’ll be spending my spare time (and income) in school, getting that degree I’ve wanted for over ten years. And playing music. Got a good band (need a lead player for the next several months, though, while Dick is out of town), and I can supplement that with solo performances—I just need to do a whole lot more marketing to make those gigs (especially the ones in Portland) pay for themselves. And there’s an album to put out, too (I gave bass player/sound engineer John the list of songs today). I want that out by Christmas, and that is easier to accomplish if I’m living here. I got an invite to do a show in Portland Sat. 19 September, at a coffeehouse hight Urban Grind East; no more information yet—the gig is being arranged by Whitney, one of the ringleaders of the Burlesque Show. I’ll milk it for all the publicity I can, telling all the folks I’ve solicited gigs from and also the couple of newspapers that cover Portland entertainment news. Mandolinist Mason Smith is putting on a bluegrass show at a Portland church the same day, and maybe I can attend that, too. (Mason hasn’t said yet if he wants me to play, or just come listen.) The Burlesque Show is the following Saturday, 26 September, at the Hawthorne Theater in Portland. And just two weeks later is the “Rocktoberfest” being organized by music teacher Mike Simpson—at which he wants our band to play. (Did I mention we need a lead player?) I don’t have a date yet for the Harvest Festival, the Neskowin Valley School’s big annual fundraiser; that’s usually in late September or early October, and I told them last year I wanted to help them with publicity this time around (they didn’t do a very good job of it last year). I don’t know yet whether the band will be interested in performing there or whether it’ll be just me. The Harvest Festival benefit concert was usually the close of my summer Concert Season, back when I had a job and worried about being able to travel in bad weather. I don’t have to worry about that now. Joe

Other stuff, for a change… My regular column for the newspaper is starting to get some attention; I hear from people telling me they read it. Folks are starting to get used to my insistence on the Wednesday deadline, and I have subjects for about two columns ahead now. No job yet, but getting lots of interviews does generate feelings that I’m doing something right. In addition to the Gold Hill city manager interview 8/31, I have one for a state planner job 9/10, and I got a letter saying I’m on the short list to be called for another state job—to be a Fish & Wildlife bureaucrat in southern Oregon, of all things. (On the minus side, I found out one city-manager job I applied for had 75 applicants, most from other states—all places where, presumably, the economy is worse even than in Oregon.) Lead guitar tracks are done for “No Good Songs About the War,” and the CD’s off to England for the Dylan-wannabe contest. (I sent them the entry fee ahead of time—in British pounds. The prize is in British pounds, too.) We recorded the lead guitar three times—all on the Strat—and then John decided to use all of them. Since I am mostly hitting the same notes each time, at the same time—I tend to be a pretty precise lead player—when they’re all played together, it sounds like an odd variety of reverb. I think it’ll be all right. The recording has a very “live” sound, even though the harmonica and guitar leads were recorded later. (John re-recorded his bass track later, too.) I had a chance to see John’s software in action—he has Adobe Audition—and it is impressive. I’m going down to southern Oregon a day before the job interview, so I can play music at the Wild Goose in Ashland Sunday night. It’ll be my best shot at seeing a lot of the people I know down there. I should get to play 3 songs (with maybe an encore since I’ve been away so long); what I don’t know is whether I’ll have a band. (“Band” in this case consists of a harmonica player and a bass player. Don’t need anything else, really.) If I have backup musicians available, I’d like to do “Things Are Getting Better Now That Things Are Getting Worse,” the Gene Burnett song about the Depression that’s become a favorite of folks here on the Coast ever since they heard it in the Failed Economy Show. Gene’s never heard it performed by a band (he usually does all his stuff solo), and I think it’d be a treat not just for him, but for the crowd as well. They can also hear “Always Pet the Dogs” (the crowd at Burgerville liked it)—that one really needs to be played with a band, or it ends up feeling too short—and “Hank’s Song,” since it’s getting close to Hank Williams’ birthday (and that’s a song the crowd at the Goose likes to sing along with). “Love Trails of the Zombie Snails” if I get to do an encore. If I’m solo, I can still do “Hank’s Song”—it’s long enough to be done easily solo—but I’ll need to do others that don’t need lead breaks, too. “50 Ways to Cure the Depression” would work—I don’t remember if I ever played that at the Goose—and so would “Love Trails of the Zombie Snails.” I ought to try to play that one anyway; it’s my newest song. I can mention the Burlesque Show up in Portland Sept. 26 (which no one from Ashland is likely to see) and the two half-hour shows on Ashland public television (which people in Ashland are likely to see—I just don’t know when). And I finally did connect with the music teacher, about my proposal to have one of his middle-school rock bands “be” Southern Pigfish for the Southern Pigfish album (and video). He’s interested, and thinks some of the kids might be, too. He won’t have time to work on it until after the “Rocktoberfest” October 9-10 (at which he wants our band to play)—but I’m not in a hurry. Southern Pigfish doesn’t exist. They can wait a little longer. Joe

The Burgerville gig went pretty good. Sparse crowd (Burgerville advertised, but I hadn’t), but people listened, and virtually every person left tips. Even got a nickel from a little girl who had listened raptly to “When They Die, I Put Them in the Cookies” (I had to help her drop it in the Yellow Bucket because she couldn’t reach it). A couple of the people who said they’d visit actually did (thank you). And the staff wants me back (I thought they weren’t listening until they sent somebody over to turn up my volume). Best-received songs were “Dead Things in the Shower” (women like it), “Hey, Little Chicken” (little kids and their parents like it), and TampaStan’s “Un-Easy Street.” That last one’s been a hit everywhere it’s been played. Used the bigger of my two tiny amps for a PA; I’d originally brought it in just as a prop (“See? I’m a Professional Musician—I have an Amp”), but decided to use it so I wouldn’t have to strain my voice. I was able by the second set to get the volume right on the guitar, but I never did get it right on the microphone. The lesson there? Practice with it ahead of time, till I know exactly where the levels should be. I thought I’d need 30 songs, but didn’t—two hours solo works out closer to 13 songs per hour instead of 15. I should do more of these solo gigs. It’s good practice not being dependent on other people, and facing my fears and butterflies on my own. I was scared to death of the thing—I hadn’t played a solo gig for months—but it was all right. I simply dropped into Rock Star Persona and acted like I knew what I was doing (I do know what I’m doing, after all) and did this sort of thing all the time. I set up the stuff (having allowed myself a whole hour to do it in), strategically positioning the CDs, the red notebook with the “joelist,” and the Yellow Bucket that says “Tipping Is Not A City In China,” started precisely on time, and played as if I didn’t care whether anybody was in the room. (And initially, nobody was. But people did start to drift in after a while, and obviously listened, and that was cool.) There is a Border’s Bookstore in Beaverton (about 10-15 miles closer to home) that has started doing live music on Friday nights (daughter Kimberly’s boyfriend Eddie works there), and I’ll see if I can nail myself down a gig there. I got to see their performance space last night, and it is small and intimate—ideal for a one-man acoustic (or teeny amp) show. I’d miss playing with the Friday Night Group, but it’d be okay. And that one, I think I’d publicize the heck out of, and see what showed up. One difficulty I have that most solo performers in these situations don’t is it costs me significant time and money to do this—about 4 hours’ driving time and $25 in gas to “do” the Burgerville gig, for example. I need to generate enough business, in tips and CD sales, to recover at least the cost of the gas. I don’t think anybody’s doing these little gigs over here on the Coast, and it’d be fun to get somebody to try. To my knowledge, there aren’t any of those chain outfits over here, either; in both Lincoln City (an hour’s drive south) and Seaside (an hour notrth) I don’t think there’s a Border’s, or a Burgerville. There is a Denny’s (all-night restaurant) that just opened in Tillamook, though. I wonder if they’d be interested in (say) a “Midnight Show” on Saturday nights, to see if it’d bring customers in? I bet they don’t get a lot of business in the middle of the night. And I wouldn’t care about playing to an empty room if the empty room was only 9 miles away. UPDATES: Trip to southern Oregon is on; I’ll get to play music Sunday night at the Wild Goose, job interview in Gold Hill on Monday, and come back Tuesday after getting new strings on the guitar. I can’t film Rufus at home until next week, but there’s some kind of “Pet Tea Party” going on at the Fairgrounds Saturday, and Sara and Rufus may be there; that could be fun. And I have yet another job interview, this one Sept. 10 with state Emergency Management (I applied to be one of their planners). Good thing I got the suit cleaned when I had time. The job interviews get frustrating after a while. It’s nice to feel wanted—but I wish I was wanted kinda more, y’know? I feel like those proverbial chicks in the tavern—it’s great that all these guys want to take me home, but doesn’t anybody want to marry me? Joe

This just in—another job interview! This one’s in Gold Hill, down in southern Oregon again, and it’s to be their first-ever city manager. Next Monday night; I’ll tentatively go down early and play music while I’m there. (Good time to get new strings again for the guitar. I’ve been playing a lot.) Episode Two of the “Joe Show” is uploaded to YouTube, with links at Facebook and Just Plain Folks. (Still have to add MySpace. There may be other places I can do this, too.) URL is . I still don’t know how well I’m doing with these. There hasn’t been much feedback. Song for this one was “Leavin’ It to Beaver,” which I wrote back when I played with the Dodson Drifters, 30 years and more ago. It doesn’t get played a lot (making the song a good candidate for the show), though people do occasionally request it (and that still surprises me). I don’t encourage it, because the song is long—a lot of words, there—and moves pretty fast, so it entails some pretty strategic breathing. It is a song that works well in “French video,” because all you need is title frames from the umpty-gazillion old TV shows referenced in the song—usually one per line, so it moves pretty fast. The discussion part—just 2-1/2 minutes out of the 8-minute show—was about inspiration. The “Hubris Gone Wild” attempt to compare myself to Shakespeare aside, there’s really not much I can say about inspiration; it’s there, and anybody can take advantage of it, really. I could probably devote another episode or two of the “Joe Show” to it, anyway, even though I’d be repeating myself. If one talks about something from a number of different directions, one can usually get one’s point across. And having finished Episode Two, I am already thinking about Episode Three. I used to do this as a newspaper editor, too; as soon as an issue of the paper was put “to bed,” my assistant editor and I would be sketching out the next one—deciding what were going to be the major stories and where in the paper they’d go, which events we’d assign reporters to and which we’d cover ourselves, and even what regular features like the publisher’s column were going to say. I’d like the next “Joe Show” to be with Rufus, librarian Sara’s English bulldog. I can shoot short bursts of video with the digital camera (I’m just not sure how short—I might have to do it in several increments), and use that as the backdrop for “Me and Rufus, and Burnin’ Down the House,” the song I did about Sara’s house fire. About five minutes of Rufus doing Dog Things would be plenty to work with. Nice thing about using my photo material is I can make mine come out clearer—I have good photo-manipulation software, stuff that isn’t made any more (my program is 13 years old). The burlesque show is finally taking shape (I was getting worried). We have a role for me, that incorporates the music; I’ll function as the Dear Abby type who, when asked for advice, will dispense—in song—something completely unrelated. For which I’ll be thanked profusely, of course, by my supplicants, as if what I’d said were actually meaningful. Rather like the Oracle at Delphi (who also spoke cryptically and in verse), only in overalls and with a severe case of Alzheimer’s. I have a couple of songs that’d probably work for this. They need to be short; burlesque is pretty fast-paced. The upcoming week is shaping up to be pretty fast-paced itself. Gig at the Hawthorne Blvd. Burgerville (solo and unplugged) Tuesday night; trip to Warrenton Wednesday night; I’ll record the lead guitar part (and maybe re-do the vocal) on “No Good Songs About the War” for the Dylan-wannabe contest Thursday night (gotta get that off to England); music Friday night—and I leave for southern Oregon and the job interview Sunday, returning Tuesday. My chance to record Rufus is going to be Saturday after Sara gets off work, I think. Joe

I learned something about the Tascam I didn’t know. If I’m going to record a long 4-track piece all at once—like the soundtrack to the “Joe Show”—it better be less than 7-1/2 minutes. That’s all the Tascam can hold. The first draft of “The Joe Show, Episode Two” was 8-1/2 minutes long, and I couldn’t mix it—and I have to mix it before I transfer it to the computer, because the computer can’t read the unmixed files. (There is probably a way around this problem, but I don’t know what it is.) I had to erase what I had, and re-do it. Making the discussion part of the show shorter was easy, but I still recorded and mixed (and transferred to the computer) the discussion and song parts separately the second time around—I was not going to risk the “memory card full” problem again. I wanted to clear out the Tascam’s memory card anyway, because I had a quick project I wanted to do—the musication of a folk song I ran across, by a British writer, Jon Harrington. It was a classic Scottish ballad—a ghost story, in fact, hight “The Haunting of Harbury Hill.” Like many a Scottish ballad, it’s written in waltz time—but when I played it on the guitar, it came out inadvertently as a two-step (4/4 time, in other words). So that was how it got recorded. The idea of a ghost story you can dance to was perversely attractive—there aren’t many of those, I imagine. And Jon said he liked it, and wanted to perform it, and record it himself, so I sent him the chords. The song has no chorus (doesn’t need one—the hook is in the final line of each of the seven verses), and still came in at 4:45 with a lead break (which it had to have, so I could show off my guitar playing). So I gave the song an “A” part and a “B” part, in alternating verses, like a lot of old fiddle tunes have. The “A” part is a straightforward three chords, all majors. The “B” part, though, starts out acting like it’s a chorus—with more of a rock beat—and then ends on a minor (the only minor chord in the whole song). From which it segues back into the “A” part. It was a lot of fun to do, and I hope I’ll have the chance to do more of this guy’s stuff. Jon re-recorded it himself, using my music, and sent me the result. He did it as a waltz, which is definitely more traditional folk music (it may be only country boys like me that “default” to a two-step), but kept the same tempo—which makes it 25% faster. (I did the math.) One definitely wants to dance to this. And he added an extra line at the end of the “B” part, easing the segue back to the “A” part, and that’s really nice. I have also acquired a big pile of computer equipment. The local community college was having a garage sale (they’re moving to new quarters, and had a lot to dispose of). For five bucks, I got three computers, a monitor, two keyboards, two mice, and cables. The ‘puters are old, but one of them is supposed to have Windows XP and another has a 20GB hard drive. The goal is to assemble a computer for the studio, that I could use exclusively for music and video. It would be nice if the three computers’ RAM chips were compatible—I don’t know that yet, but none of the three has a whole lot of RAM, and music work (especially video) uses a lot of RAM. The next step is to clean the garage studio (which I haven’t been using—I’ve been doing my recording in the house, since I can do it anywhere), and make space to work on and set up the Music Computer. Another thing I’d best do while I’m unemployed and have time. Episode Two of the Joe Show is done; finished today, and it’s 8 minutes long. (And it’s not posted yet, for those who were looking forward to watching it. I have to “devour my young” a few more times first, to mqke sure everything’s all right.) These videos take three scriptings; I have to script out the discussion, the slides, and the overlay text—and they have to be related enough to not be confusing, and different enough to not be boring. A fine line to walk. Joe

Finished the first episode of the ”Joe Show,” and it’s posted on YouTube and MySpace with links to Facebook and Just Plain Folks. The YouTube link is http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8HttdPnrZO8. It was about a 6-hour job, for less than five minutes of video—and I’m not sure future episodes will take any less time, at least until I have better technology. I did it “French style,” ignoring the webcam (since it wasn’t working, and I was tired of investing time to find out why) and instead doing a slide show with audio track and simultaneous on-screen text. Having three things happening at once almost makes it feel like moving pictures. Since there’s no way the thing could “go viral” at this point, I made the video do double duty by having it address the request of Performing Songwriters’ Lorelei Loveridge for thoughts on the current state of the music business. (My thoughts thereon are curmudgeonly, to put it nicely.) For this one, the song was “The Taboo Song”—the one about the list of 15 things you’re not supposed to put in a song. It’s not a song that’s going to get played much in public (though it has been performed once with the Friday Night Group, and may get incorporated into the burlesque show). One of the things the “Joe Show” can do is showcase material that doesn’t have the opportunity to get performed often—provided I can do it in a way that proves a point. I’m definitely going to need a lot more photos if I keep doing it this way. The camera needs to go everywhere I go, with extra batteries, and needs to get used. A lot. There are transition tricks in Windows Movie Maker I haven’t used (but I have seen them used in French videos), and I’ll have to try the less annoying ones. And I think I can make my digital camera take short bursts of video, that can be incorporated into these shows (with text overlays). The first breaking of new ground always establishes a template. Since I like working in a box, one of the first things I do is define the box. What I did in the first video is going to be the box, since I don’t know of any “industry standards” that define what I’m doing; as I run into things, or get constructive feedback (which I hope I’ll get), the dimensions of the box could change. I have watched the video a lot—“devouring my young,” a former editor of mine called it—and I’ve been as harsh a critic as possible on my own. There are some things I’d make sure to do differently next time—but not many. Right now, the box looks like this. The video is going to be a little over 5 minutes long (maximum 10 minutes), with more than half the time taken up by the song. It’ll be “French style” until further notice—I might as well explore what I can do with the genre. I’ll need 6 to 12 slides per minute—that’s a lot of photography—and they’ll not only need to relate to what’s being talked about, they’ll need to be different each time. The discussion (scripted out ahead of time and rehearsed, as always) will be short and punchy; like the songs themselves, there can’t be a single wasted word, because the more time I take, the more photographs I’ll need. (That’s one good thing about “French video.” A lot of the amateurs who make “regular” YouTube videos do tend to ramble on, because they have no incentive to be concise. I do.) The song needs to be able to illustrate a point made in the discussion (and the discussion will be first, according to our template). The song also has to be able to be illustrated with photos—it’s not like we’re just pointing a webcam at me playing the guitar. Some songs come across better in the “French video” format than others. It would be fun to try next “Leavin’ It to Beaver,” a song I wrote over 30 years ago when I was rhythm guitarist for the Dodson Drifters. It’s only been recorded once, on that first, limited-distribution album that had just me and solo guitar. The song does get requested now and then, though, like some other songs the Dodson Drifters made famous. It would be easy to “video-ify”—but it is a long song, over 6 minutes without a lead break. (It’s a fast song, too—requires some very strategic breathing.) Could “Alice” the ‘puter handle something like that? Could I? The discussion, I think, could be about INSPIRATION—where it comes from (like I know where it comes from), and how one can take advantage of it. Like they say on TV, stay tuned. Joe

John says Dick’s harmonica parts on both “No Good Songs About the War” and “For Their own Ends” are perfect. One part down. Still need to record the lead guitar, for which I think I’ll use the Strat—gives the sound engineer (John) better control. He’d like to record the lead guitar four times and then mix and match pieces from the four leads. Him da boss. He said he’ll make sure we have “No Good Songs About the War” done in time to send to England for the Dylan-wannabe contest. (Deadline is the end of August.) I had an idea for the band for the Southern Pigfish album. The new music teacher for the school district had created, over an 8-week period this summer, three middle-school rock bands from scratch; they performed at Garibaldi Days, and were quite good (one band was very good). Would they—or any of them—be interested in “being” Southern Pigfish for the album? I wanted to use total unknowns, and an impromptu band of middle-school rockers is about as unknown as one can get. Figured it was worth asking. (No answer yet.) Said music teacher also happens to have a recording studio. I don’t plan to use it for the Joe Album; John’s got the recording equipment now, and is having too much fun with it (and getting excited about its possibilities). It’s fair game for Southern Pigfish, though—a band that doesn’t exist can record anywhere, right? The important thing is being able to do it for no money. I have no money. What I have for the Southern Pigfish album at present is: For their Own Ends (title cut) Bedpans for Brains (which really needs to be a music video) Vampire Roumanian Babies Love Trails of the Zombie Snails Test Tube Baby (the old Dodson Drifters hit from the 1970s) --and just maybe the Norwegian Black/Death Metal song, “Evil Dead Fairies in My Mobile Home.” “Bedpans for Brains” is the only country music song, and it can be rocked up easily—our band could do it. In a pinch—if it were necessary (or possible) to do the album right away—I could add: When I Jump Off the Cliff I’ll Think of You Rotten Candy Born Again Barbie (if co-writer Scott Rose is willing) “Cliff” has been recorded by a rock ‘n’ roll fellow, and it came out real well (I played lead on the recording); it may have been written as a bluegrass number, but it crosses genres well—it’s even been done as electronica, by Jerry Miller (dba zonemusicinc), and that’s my favorite version. I expect “Rotten Candy” would rock well, too—and I could include that sticker that proclaims “Includes The Song Rejected By American Idol!”. That would fit the whole mystique of Southern Pigfish, I think. The “Barbie” song is rock ‘n’ roll, too (Scott was a rock guitarist), and I’ve scripted that one out as a music video, too—using (what else?) a cast of Barbies. I have a crateful in the garage. That’s nine songs, just barely enough for an album. As time goes on, I’m sure I’ll have more. Southern Pigfish are too good an outlet for the really weird stuff. OTHER STUFF: I haven’t managed to make the webcam record on the laptop, and I don’t know why. I’ll switch it back to “Alice” the desktop, and try some of the things I learned working with the laptop, and see if the change in “venue” makes a difference. Otherwise, I’ll have to write off the webcam as a bad investment, and see if I can do the “Joe Show” a different way. I have a video to do for Performing Songwriters, too. Joe

TWO COMPUTERS running simultaneously! I feel positively 21st century… The laptop (which doesn’t have a name yet) now has the webcam installed, and it appears to be working; I need to do a test before taking it to band practice. I’ve had two computer experts (John here, and Al David in Chicago) tell me the video file from the laptop is transferrable to and useable by “Alice” the desktop. I’ll use the little flash drive for the transferring. The goal is to get some footage of the band—especially of Dick playing harmonica—that would be useable in a music video. I have proposed to Life’s Subtle Tease (the burlesque troupe) using them as the cast for the music video of the Southern Pigfish song, “Bedpans for Brains,” and also raised with John using our band for the music. John’s okay with it. No word from the burlesquers—but I know some of them have been busy all week with a film project. (And they all have jobs. I don’t.) The burlesque troupe are supposed to do a short promotional performance a week from now, as a teaser for the Big Show on 26 September at the Hawthorne Theater—but I’m not clear yet what it is we’re going to perform. These guys and gals may be a lot more improvisational than I am; I don’t go on stage without knowing—and having rehearsed almost to death—exactly what I’m going to sing and to say. “Love Trails of the Zombie Snails” did get performed in public, finally—with the Friday Night Group. It is hard to sing in the key I picked for this, and I might try a different one next time (if there is a next time)—but I need a key that’ll let me keep to a rock ‘n’ roll rhythm, rather than a country one. I don’t know if the song will get requested again—but people in the audience were dancing to it. Fred, one of our Friday Night Group musicians, asked if he could start performing some of my songs—to which the answer is “Of course.” The more exposure the better—and Fred has a good singing voice. His harmonies on “Milepost 43” (the song about Al David’s missing underwear) were sweet. Fred is another resource I could probably call on for the album. (It’d be nice to have some female backup singers, too.) Add him to “Chippewa Bob” on the saw, and Denise on the Jews’ harp, and Wayne on lead guitar. We have, too, one of the best fiddle players I’ve ever met—a retired concert violinist—who’s spending the summer here at the Coast. (She’s been coming to play every Friday night.) It’d be fun to use her, too (though I don’t know how long “summer” is going to last). I don’t want to overload John by maximizing resources—each additional instrument probably adds an hour or so to recording time, and I know he doesn’t have a whole lot of time. I keep thinking of more fun things to do with the webcam—and I haven’t even tried recording anything with it yet. Having mated the webcam up with the laptop, I can take it anywhere. I could record the Friday Night Group doing one of my songs, for instance. I’d be dependent on whatever the webcam’s little microphone picked up (unless I hooked up a remote mike), but the Friday Night Group’s PA system is pretty good—there’d be pretty good sound to pick up. I could do the same with the Saturday afternoon performers at the Tillamook Library, when they start playing again in September. The library has an excellent sound system, with speakers in the ceiling. I still don’t know what we’re going to do for a lead player for the concerts in October. We may have access to a piano/keyboard player (husband of John’s assistant at City Hall), but he lives an hour’s drive away from here. That could be a little problematic—but we can try him out playing lead on some of the tunes we want to record for the album, and see how it fits. UPDATES: More rejection letters in the mail (I’ve stopped trying to file them—the stack is getting so tall it’s discouraging). No word from the last three jobs I was interviewed for. No word, either, from the Jade Lounge in Portland, where I’d applied (as with the Airway Café) to be solo entertainment; I have to assume they are simply not interested. Sometimes I wonder if there’s any point—and then I wonder if my lack of success is simply because I haven’t been pushing hard enough. Joe

I have a webcam—cute li’l thing, looks like a miniature R2D2 on a tripod. (For the same $15 price, I could’ve got a “Hello Kitty” one, but I decided there were limits to how much cuteness I could tolerate.) I have installed the software, but not—yet—the camera itself. For a computer programmer, I am awfully paranoid about technology. I have scripted out the first episode of “The Joe Show,” and we’ll see how the recording comes out. I don’t know how much time the “speech” part will take; I used to know this stuff back when I was a lobbyist, and was delivering sound bites to TV cameras and testimony to Congressional committees, but I no longer remember—it’s been too long. I might have sufficient “speech” in what I’ve written for several episodes, for all I know. I don’t want the “speech” to take up more time than the song; the song, after all, is going to be the focus of these videoblogs. So that limits me to a 3.5-to-5-miunute “speech.” Preferably shorter. I have seen (thanks, Lorelei) rather competently produced videoblogs showing off the details of producing an album. It’s a nice idea, but I don’t know if I could pull something like that off. On the other hand, I do have the laptop (Windows Vista and all), and I could install the webcam on that, too, and it could go places. It might not be too hard to film the band recording—or even the Friday Night Group, for that matter. The point of exercises like that, I think, is the interactivity with The Folks Out There. We’re de-mystifying life. An album isn’t this mysterious thing that sprung full-grown from someone’s forehead; it’s real work by real people over a period of time. Would the album be a more attractive acquisition if people knew more about what went into it? What if one encouraged feedback? Release (well, it’s on Soundclick) of “Love Trails of the Zombie Snails” prompted the inevitable round of “where do you come up with this stuff?” questions. It’s tempting to say I don’t know, but that’s not precisely true. I do have an idea how the mind (mine, anyway) works. Music reflects life. That means that what I wrote, no matter how strange, is attempting to reflect something going on in my private life. It’ll tend to be strange because my reflections are rather, well, murky. So what’s going on? Well, I can’t be sure, but I’d hazard a guess that I’m being bothered by being unemployed a long time, being just about out of money, not having really made it as a musician, and being 59 years old. I want to do something meaningful with my life, something important—even if it’s (say) taking my girlfriend to Antarctica to rescue trapped scientists from the feared zombie snails. I am again confronted with the connection between Inspiration and Pain. If life were too comfortable—if I were too happy—I wouldn’t be thinking up this stuff. There is reason, I think, even for the “window-dressing” details. Antarctica? Well, it does roll trippingly off the tongue—but I’m also a relatively inoffensive person, and Antarctica is one place you can talk about without offending anyone. Antarctica is like the Internet—it’s owned by no one, controlled by no one, and there’s no one really there. Snails? Well, one usually doesn’t connect snails with Antarctica, because snails are cold-blooded. That just underscores that what’s being discussed here is pure fantasy. (That, of course, was before I learned about the “snow snails.” There really are such things, apparently; they have been known to appear right before avalanches. They’ve even been photographed. That means there are probably snow snails in Antarctica, too—the place being, well, snowy and all. Who’d have thunk?) UPDATES: The job interview went well—but there are over 30 people applying for just 3 jobs. I don’t know if I’ll be one of the winners. Music Friday and Saturday this week, and recording—I hope—on Sunday. Just two weeks to get that Dylan contest entry to England. Joe

Wife Sandee and a girlfriend are on vacation this week, hitting the square dance circuit, and the dog and I are, well, doing whatever it’s possible to do with lots of time and no money. Burlesque show cast meeting tonight, job interview Tuesday, “Love Trails of the Zombie Snails” to record, a video to script out, and a webcam and flash drive to score if I can find ‘em cheap. I’ll be busy. Latest spate of mail (which included only one rejection letter) reminded me that for over a year, I’ve been on other people’s schedules—avoiding or postponing doing things because I’ve been waiting to see what somebody else (usually somebody I’ve applied for a job with) is going to do. It’s time to stop that. I should simply pick out what I want to do, and do it. To do otherwise is to waste time—and I consider wasting time an Unforgivable Sin. I had more control of my life when I was working for somebody else. I’ll have to press and prod (because my band members have less time than I do), but I want the new album done before Christmas. It consists of 12 songs: Dead Things in the Shower (mod. fast two-step) Armadillo on the Interstate (slow & sleazy) The Termite Song (fast bluegrass) Tillamook Railroad Blues (slow, deliberate blues) Free-Range Person (fast bluegrass) No Good Songs About the War (mod. slow two-step) Rotten Candy (fast bluegrass, with a Gospel beat) Hey, Little Chicken (mod. slow almost blues) Doing Battle with the Lawn (fast bluegrass) Eatin’ Cornflakes from a Hubcap Blues (slow & sleazy) Un-Easy Street (mod. slow two-step) Naked Space Hamsters in Love (fast bluegrass) One blues, a couple almost-blues, some bluegrass, some country, one that’d be Gospel if it weren’t talking about one’s girlfriend leaving. Some dead animals, and some live aliens. None of the songs is really serious, but a couple sound serious. There’s a couple of co-writes that fit in well with my own material. (I’ll have to pay copyright royalties.) A smidgen of continuity—there’s one song from the last album, and one from the first album, six years ago. (People are still requesting it—a lot. My stuff tends to remain popular, I guess.) The band does all of the songs real well, and they have a lot of fun doing it. They tend to rock the songs up (hardly a surprise—the bass player and drummer are both from heavy-metal backgrounds), but It sounds good when they do it. John will do the recording. (He’s got some nice equipment now.) We’ll do a live “base” track—drums, bass, rhythm guitar, and my vocal—overlay lead instruments, and then John will do the mixing. We can’t have Dick’s blues harp lead on everything, because we won’t be able to record every song before he and wife Carol go on their big trip. We’ll be limited to just what we can get done in the next two weeks. I’d pick “No Good Songs About the War” (which we want to enter in the English Dylan contest), “Tillamook Railroad Blues” and “Armadillo on the Interstate”; we’ll fudge for the rest. Though I seem to know quite a few musicians—guitar, gbanjo (6-string banjo), fiddle, accordion, musical saw, and Jews’ harp, and they all live in Garibaldi—I want to keep things simple. One “whiny” lead and one “non-whiny” lead on each song is enough. Chippewa Bob’s saw can substitute for the harmonica on some of the songs, and the Jews’ harp would be a nice addition to some of the bluegrass ones; both can be done with some special effects. I can use Wayne’s country-barroom guitar lead on some of the songs, and do lead myself on the rest. It’ll be enough. Simultaneously, I can’t stop pressing and prodding for gigs. When the album comes out, I want to be well-known enough so a lot of people will immediately be buying a lot of copies. Performing is about the only way to do it. Joe

Saw my second “Lorelei Loveridge—World Traveling Songwriter” video yesterday, and it did generate some ideas. Roughly the first half was just talk, interspersed with photos of her trip to Spain; second half was a song, just her on solo guitar. The photography work was simple but nice and clear. (Good webcam.) Could I do something like this? Probably; it wouldn’t take a huge investment in technology—I had a cheap-but-good webcam once, and bet I could find another. Windows Movie Maker is nothing-special software, but I have it, and I know how to use it. And interspersing slides with video might even be a bit simpler than simultaneously coordinating slides, soundtrack, and text overlays. A lot of folks are doing “vlogs” now. There’s a chance that vlogs could get more attention than the standard written blog, because we have become such a visual society. “The Writer’s Blog” these days takes just a short session at the word processor, but a vlog would involve substantially more effort and time. I’d still have to write it—I have to work from a script—then rehearse the script until I have it memorized (just like the Raps I do at performances), film myself, insert photos and add text as needed. A potentially important use of the vlog would be to showcase songs. New songs especially; people don’t get to hear my new songs unless they go to a concert, or check my Soundclick page, and people don’t do that often or right away. Even the Friday Night Group don’t get to hear new songs very often, because too many people are requesting too many of the old ones. I could get additional exposure because the inclusion of songs would appeal to fans, who would tune in for the music—right now, they’re mostly not reading the written blog every week. The “Joe Show” vlog would need to be weekly; the same rule applies as with blogs and Websites—you need to give people something new every week, so they keep coming back. Now, I don’t usually have a good new song every week, and I don’t plan on forcing myself to write one every week; if I average one good song a month, I’m satisfied. That means about ¾ of the time, the “Joe Show” would be showcasing old material. That would be okay, too. People don’t get to hear the old stuff often enough. Would I still be doing the written “Writer’s Blog”? Yes. The “Joe Show,” because of the inclusion of songs, would have to be organized differently. I think what I’d do is pick a song, and in the narrative part—just a couple of minutes, so we don’t get boring—talk about some aspect of writing that ties into the song. That’s possible to do—when I both performed and taught a songwriting seminar at the “Moograss” Bluegrass Festival, every song in my performance setlist illustrated a point I’d brought out in the class. The garage studio strikes me as the perfect place to do this; it’s comfy, if small, and an interestingly funky space with its open-beam walls and decorative vase of obviously plastic flowers. Better than the computer room in the house, where I’ve been doing most of my recording the past year. I’d have to rig up a separate computer in the garage studio (but—surprise! I happen to have one), and it wouldn’t be on line—Internet in the house is too far away. However, I could dump the video to a flash drive (add that to the purchase list) for posting online. It might not be too hard. Something else I could do with the vlog—another idea picked up online—is invite people to do their own artistic things to those songs. I don’t care (I’d like to see what they do, though)—like Woody Guthrie said once, what I cared about was writin’ ‘em, and since I’m a writer, I’m going to write more. Sure, some of those songs I’ll record professionally with a band and put on a record, and I’ll be trying to sell the record—but a vlog recording of me and solo guitar? Go have at it, and see what you can do with it. Okay, so on my way back from the job interview in Salem Tuesday (yes! another one), I’ll stop by an electronics wholesaler I know and see if it’s possible to get a webcam and flash drive. They’d have to be cheap—but they might be. Joe

Today I am pitching songs to a Nashville publisher—or seeing if I can. I got the invitation a couple of days ago. It’s not a big thing—I noticed a couple dozen other people got the same e-mail—but it’s not often one gets invited over to the bigger kids’ sandbox, so I’ll try to play. The publisher says he’s looking for material to pitch to 21 different artists who are lining out albums. Only four of them are names I recognize, but that’s not surprising. One is brand-new—an Indiana kid who just got signed to a major label (the hometown newspaper did a front-page article). One by one, I am going through their Websites or MySpace pages (some have both), to see what they sound like, what kinds of subjects they sing about, their styles, and the general attitudes they convey. All those things are presumably important. A guy who has done exclusively sappy love songs (or sappy praise songs) is probably not going to cover “Dirty Deeds We Done to Sheep,” for instance. I’m listening only to the uptempo stuff. Nashville, I’ve been told, is not interested in any more “power ballads.” Everybody’s got dozens of them. Now, one can’t expect a whole lot out of this exercise. It’s like those old million-dollar Publishers Clearing House checks from the late Ed McMahon—looks neat, but it’s not a good idea to go buy stuff with it. Most of these 21 artists probably write or co-write nearly all of their own material—that’s the fashion these days, even in country music. What the publisher wants to do is tell the artist, “Dude! Check this out—this sounds JUST LIKE YOU!” If the song is really, really good, the artist may use it on the album instead of one of his own. The song needs to be good enough so the artist will want it on his album so it doesn’t get on somebody else’s. And of course, there are dozens of publishers besides this one, all doing the same thing to these 21 artists. And the writers they’re pitching mostly live in Nashville, and have some Connections. I don’t. I have envisioned each of the artists performing my songs, with the backup band he or she has (in some cases, the artist is a band, and the song needs to be able to accommodate all the instruments in the band). I can’t imagine these guys, girls or bands doing a lot of my songs. Dead animals just ain’t their style. Neither is the quirky stuff. (Modern country artists are awfully conventional.) Still, there are some pitchable ones. “Duct Tape” and “Bluebird on My Windshield” would work for the guys who sing about country themes (yes, folks are still writing about Mother, trucks, trains, farms, prison, and so on). The love-in-a-barroom folks could be interested in “Cuddle in the Darkness.” There’s even a few on the list I could see doing “When I Jump Off the Cliff I’ll Think of You.” And “Rotten Candy,” of course—that was written to be commercial, and would fit a lot of these folks. The publisher will be the one deciding whom to pitch what (if any) songs to. I send my stuff to the publisher. I’m not sure if I should make any suggestions or not; the publisher presumably knows all these people way better’n me. Some of the songs need to be dressed up a bit for pitching. No “worktapes”—we need demos. Songs from the last album would work as demos—but I may want to re-record some of them anyway. That album was done with a bluegrass band, and most of these 21 artists do “modern country,” a lot closer to rock ‘n’ roll. I can see them saying, “But I don’t do bluegrass music.” (So little imagination these days among supposedly creative people.) But I can re-do the songs with a country band—I just happen to be playing with one, and we have the ability to record. So while we’re recording the new album, I want to also record the songs abovementioned. I do have one I can fire off right away: “Cuddle in the Darkness.” That was done with just rhythm guitar (me), fiddle and standup bass, and the arrangement would work well in a wide range of genres. It doesn’t need to be changed. It’s not too slow (most of my stuff is not slow), and you can dance to it. The rest of the pitchables will take a little time to re-do, but at least I’ve got something I can send immediately. I doubt I’d have gotten that e-mail if the publisher didn’t want the stuff right away. (And the lesson there? Always be ready. Like lobbyist Bruce Vincent used to say, “The world is run by those who show up.”) Joe

The 22 August concert in Central Point has been cancelled. I guess it’s a good thing I hadn’t sent out notices yet. Hard not to be bummed about it. There is a plus side: I won’t be gone for five or so days, I will save the money I’d have spent on the trip, and I can do something else. However, I am going to miss everybody. My only excuses for visiting southern Oregon this summer have been job interviews. Unless the City of Gold Hill calls me for a city-manager interview (and I am not expecting them to), I won’t be going down again for a while. Whatever will I do? Oh, there’s plenty. A quick work list: The band needs a lead player before we can do any more shows. Dick will be gone several months, he thinks. FIND ONE. That’s an opportunity to go visit some other venues, local festivals, and open mikes, and see what might be available. We have two performances possible in October, I think—the Neskowin Harvest Festival (a benefit) and that local-musicians thing the music teacher is organizing—but we can’t do it as a trio. There’s the Dylan-wannabe contest in England to get the entry done for; deadline is the end of August, and I don’t know how long it takes to get something to England in the mail. We have the “base track” (rhythm guitar, vocal, bass and drums) done, I think, though I haven’t heard John’s final copy; need to overlay Dick’s blues harp (before he leaves town) and my guitar leads. Could probably be done in a day. And there’s THE ALBUM. I’m not sure how interested the band are in recording—they are really interested in performing. I think the argument I’d use is we need some recorded material—at least an EP’s worth—to give people we want to hit up for gigs. (And if we do that, we might as well do a round dozen of songs and have an album we can sell at those gigs.) All we need are the “base” tracks (leads can be added later)—and the band is tight enough now so if the levels are set right, those “base” tracks can be recorded in one or two takes. I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole thing could be done in two days. I can play lead guitar on some of the tracks; we’ll have Dick’s blues harp on at least one of the songs (“No Good Songs About the War,” which is going to the Dylan-wannabe contest); and I can round up “guest leads” for the rest, I guess. I wonder if that could be used as a way to try out different lead players? And I can solicit solo gigs. I really haven’t done that at all since moving back to the Coast. But I drive past a couple of venues almost every day that I know could use me in a solo set, and I have to stop in and talk to them, and leave a CD (as soon as I have more). John and Chris both have jobs: I don’t—and could use the business. It was neat selling five CDs over last weekend—I’d like to be doing that a lot—but I don’t sell CDs unless I’m performing, and I know from experience that the more I’m playing, the better I get. I’m still going to make the Joe Thongs (I got the supplies). I don’t at this point have a crowd to toss them into, but I’ll send a couple down south as souvenirs. The job interview in Salem went well. (A bunch of folks have asked.) It was interesting to see how a huge bureaucracy does interviews; they had a 3-person team of (I think) underlings doing it, about one per hour over I know not how many hours, and they said they’d be at it all week. The state Dept. of Revenue has 8 of these “revenue agent” positions to fill, but I don’t know how many people they’re interviewing. To speed things up, they issued candidates the questions they were going to ask ahead of time, and gave us half an hour to think about our answers—nice tactic, and I’ll use it if I ever have the chance. They were nice people, and I don’t think I scared them away. I’ll know in a couple of weeks. I refuse to be hopeful. I sent off my (awfully detailed) thoughts on an opening for the burlesque show, but the only comment I’ve got back thus far from any of the troupe is a noncommital one. Maybe I’ll know more when we get together next Sunday. I had an idea, too, for a project the burlesque troupe would be perfect for—if they’re interested, and have the time (I don’t want to take time away from the show). There’s a Southern Pigfish song intended for a music video--”Bedpans for Brains,” which had each verse being sung by a different cast member from The Wizard of Oz. These guys and gals would be perfect for it. And one of ‘em is a director, with film experience. I’ll have to find out if they can do it. Joe

As this is written, the Busy Weekend is not yet over. I still have a job interview tomorrow in Salem, a 2-hour drive away, and errands to run. I need to get slimline CD cases, and T-shirt transfers and stickers for the Joe Thongs I want to have for the 22 August concert in Central Point. The Garibaldi Museum concert was a success. We had a very small crowd, but they were appreciative. We were competing with at least (1) the Jews’ Harp Festival, (2) the 100th anniversary of the Tillamook Cheese factory, and (3) a music festival in south Tillamook County; I understand there were a couple of other Big Events further south, too. I suppose we should consider ourselves lucky anyone came at all. I think the Museum owners were disappointed at the turnout, but are also convinced it wasn’t because we weren’t good—they liked us (nice validation, there), and they want to have us back. The band was tight—practice helps—and they’re confident now they can do anything. We do have a good three hours worth of performable material now. Best songs were “I’m Giving Mom a Dead Dog for Christmas” and Gene Burnett’s “Things Are Getting Better Now That Things Are Getting Worse.” I noticed people looking puzzled as they listened carefully to the Southern Pigfish song, “For Their Own Ends,” trying to figure out what it meant—but their toes were tapping anyway. Friday night, the music teacher came (with wife and kids) to see the Friday Night Group. He wants me and the band (Dick, Chris and John) for a festival of local musicians he wants to put on in early October. (He bought a CD, too. Always have CDs with you.) He can have Chris, John and me, but not Dick—Dick and Carol will still be on their cross-country trip. We will need a different lead player. I did a little lead-player hunting at the Jews’ Harp Festival Friday and Saturday, but there wasn’t a lot to pick from; most of these folks are percussionists, and it’s almost impossible to do a percussion lead. There were just two or three guitarists there besides me (only one of them local, and I’ve never seen him play lead). I did solicit his wife to play lead Jews’ harp when I record “Love Trails of the Zombie Snails”; that would work, I think, because I can add different special effects when recording. Performing is different—your instruments are all “unenhanced.” I saw one fellow at the Jews’ Harp Festival who had managed to do Pink Floyd-style recordings with his Jews’ harp. I could do the same thing. My little Tascam allows a guitar to “emulate” 40 different electric guitars and half a dozen basses (later models of the Tascam could not do this); if I miked the Jews’ harp and ran it through the “guitar” input of the Tascam, could I come up with (for example) a Heavy Metal Jews’ Harp? I’ll have to try it. I could do the same with Bob Lichner’s musical saw (which he’s getting quite good at). Today was the monthly jam at the Forestry Center; five musicians there instead of the usual three, and they kept expecting me to play lead—and I could (having played a lot of music the two previous days helped). Sold four CDs there. And one of the guitarists, who plays a lot of open mikes and jams around the Portland area, asked permission to do some of my songs. (Permission granted, of course.) And the burlesque troupe are interesting. Most of the seven I met Sunday night are writers of one sort or another; two also do interpretive dance; one is a director (with a film education). I think the show we’re sketching out is going to be a lot like the Malheur Miners’ Wild West Shows I was a part of when I lived in Vale—sketch comedy interpolated with music. There is supposedly another musician in the troupe, but he wasn’t at the meeting. My function, I think, is going to be to serve as a sort of Greek chorus—commenting musically (and not necessarily relevantly) on what’s happened, or happening. I did have an idea on the way home how to introduce the group—just a variation on how the Malheur Miners did it. (This being Portland, and not Eastern Oregon, we won’t be doing a gunfight.) Joe

The North American Jews Harp Festival is this Friday and Saturday, in Bay City—5 miles away; I’ll be trying to be there as much as possible, around prior commitments: playing with the Friday Night Group in Garibaldi, and the Garibaldi Museum concert Saturday night. I’d like to invite the folks from the Jews Harp Festival to the concert, but I won’t—they have events of their own going on at the same time, and I don’t want to steal their thunder. I’ll just mention that we’ll miss them, and encourage them to scrape up a venue they can hear us at. Posters for the Museum concert are up all over town, and the Museum owners did a promo on the radio, too. There is a chance we could get a good crowd. We will practice tonight, mostly to reassure me; I know we’re good, but I want the confidence that when we go on stage, absolutely everything is perfect. The band still does not have a name, but the moniker “The Floating Heads” is circulating around since I mentioned it, and some people are referring to us that way. We’ll see if the name catches on. I have a nice photo of the Port of Garibaldi’s floating restroom (officially chartered as a vessel--the S.S. Head) we could use on posters if that’s the way we end up going. Friday night, I’m pretty sure Sara the librarian is going to request the snail song (tentatively hight “Love Trails of the Zombie Snails”), and I do want to be ready. I can hear the rock ‘n’ roll beat I want to give it, but am not sure I can play it. But I need to be able to lead it, in order for the Friday Night Group to follow. If it comes out country, that’s what they’ll play—they’re good followers. Considering the subject matter (and the generally strange and obscurantist lyrics), this would be a great Southern Pigfish song—particularly if it can be done as rock ‘n’ roll. Another one for the Pigfish album, I guess. We already have “For Their Own Ends” (the title cut) and “Vampire Roumanian Babies.” There’s “Bedpans for Brains,” too, but that one really needs to be a music video, because each verse is sung by a different character from The Wizard of Oz. Still not recorded—and it needs to be, while I’ve got these heavy-metal band members around—is the Norwegian Black/Death Metal song, “Evil Dead Fairies in My Mobile Home.” That one shouts “Southern Pigfish!” too. There are songs by other people that would work on a Southern Pigfish album—some of Scott Garriott’s come immediately to mind—but it might be safer to use all my stuff. Real experimental stuff, here, creating a “buzz” and a persona for a band that is probably never going to play a concert (hard to do when you don’t exist), but is going to have—and sell—a record. (Their songs will get covered, too, if only by us. I always make sure to identify “For Their own Ends” as a Southern Pigfish song when we perform it. And we’ve been performing it every show, because people like it.) On the promotional end, I can get blank thongs for roughly $1.00 apiece from Kimberly; I can do the message as either an iron-on transfer (if it won’t scorch the fabric) or a sticker, and I’ll pick up supplies for both when I’m in Salem Monday. Both the iron-on transfers and the stickers will make the thongs a little stiff to wear, but I don’t think anybody’s going to be wearing them. (If they do, I want a picture.) There do not appear to be any retailers that still sell the clear “slimline” CD cases, but I can get them in quantity on line. I’m starting to see little jump drives available in quantity, too; I haven’t looked at the price—I’m not ready yet. I still think a jump drive with video (even if it’s only “French video,” that species of fast-moving slide show with text overlays) is the way to go with the Southern Pigfish album. If one is going to be experimental, one might as well go all the way. I got to listen to Scott Garriott’s song “Marilee” (the one I played lead guitar on); it’s got a fiddle and backup singers on it now, and sounds real good. I tried an experiment—dumped the recording into the Audacity program and sped up the tempo a little over 10%, and it became a very fast-moving (and rather compelling) bluegrass number. I’ll send it back and see what Scott thinks. Joe

Imprinted thongs are NOT cheap. $7.17 each from the outfit that advertises on MySpace, minimum order of 24 (that’s a whopping $172.08, way too rich for my blood). I probably have to do something different. How about a sticker (maybe a 4-inch circle) that could be pasted on a generic thong? I could maybe get thongs in quantity through my daughter, who’s working at Ross’ Dress for Less. Could get the stickers when I’m in Salem next Monday for the job interview (yes, I have one of those, too—State Dept. of Revenue). It would be fun to have thongs for the 22 August concert in Central Point. Could toss some out into the crowd, and donate a couple for the Southern Oregon Songwriters raffle. I need to get more CDs pressed before then, too. Biggest need is for those “slim-line” cases, which the big retailers seem to not be carrying any more. I like to package the CDs in those so I don’t have to print a cover—just the label. Another song this morning—just a throwaway, I think, for one of those online contests. They wanted a hook consisting of two words that rhyme; somebody had to suggest I do “flat cat,” of course (I seem to have a Reputation), but I did “snails’ trails” instead. I’d been wanting to do something about the Antarctican zombie snails ever since I suggested them for a song title (I hadn’t “done” snails yet, and it felt like it was time). So now we have, for what it’s worth, “The Antarctic Trails of the Zombie Snails: A Love Song.” The music is trying to come out somewhere between “Me & Rufus and Burning Down the House” and the Southern Pigfish classic, “Bedpans for Brains,” and I’d like it to not be too similar. Maybe if I did it in a different key? Forcing myself to play in a different key without using a capo makes the fingering/strumming come out a lot different sometimes. Alternatively, I wonder if it’d be possible to do it in a minor key? I don’t do minors very often. I have had one suggestion that I keep to the original idea of the zombie snails as something evil and haunting, rather than focusing on their sex lives, and that’s doable; if I did that, I’d want the music upbeat and happier-sounding, for contrast. It could still be in a minor key. It’d almost be a Jewish folk dance if I did that. Does the setlist for the Museum concert need to be revised? Based on what went over well at Garibaldi Days, I think I’d like to do: Dead Things in the Shower (fast two-step, in C) Armadillo on the Interstate (slow & sleazy, in C) Bluebird on My Windshield (fast bluegrass, in C) Tillamook Railroad Blues (deliberate blues, in D) Things Are Getting Better Now That Things Are Getting Worse (mod. fast two-step, in C) No Good Songs About the War (slow two-step, in C) For Their Own Ends (folk-rock, in E) Eatin’ Cornflakes from a Hubcap Blues (mod. slow quasi-blues, in C) Welcome to Hebo Waltz (fast waltz, in C) The Frog Next Door (deliberate blues, in D) I’m Giving Mom a Dead Dog for Christmas (slow & sleazy, in C) Duct Tape (mod. fast two-step, in C) Nothing that we haven’t practiced, in other words—and all of them things we played last Saturday, and that were well-received by the audience. If we’re lucky, we’ll have one chance to practice this week—and we might not be lucky. This weekend is the North American Jews’ Harp Festival, too, in Bay City, and I’ll try to attend as much of their stuff as I can. First priority is the Museum gig Saturday night. There’s music Friday night at City Hall, but the Jews’ Harp Festival is scheduling a jam session later the same evening, and I’d like to go. Music at the Forestry Center Sunday. It’s shaping up to be a busy week. Joe

The Garibaldi Days gig went good. We had an appreciative audience, and the band enjoyed themselves. The top three songs were, in order, Southern Pigfish’s “For Their Own Ends,” Gene Burnett’s “Things Are Getting Better Now That Things Are Getting Worse,” and Stan Good’s “Un-Easy Street.” The Pigfish song continues to be a surprise. People like rock ‘n’ roll, I guess. We should do more of it. One of mine we’ve never attempted is “Test Tube Baby,” a generally 12-bar blues which was an old Dodson Drifters hit, and we should try it. I think people like Gene’s song because it’s more uptempo than the average two-step—it’s just something that demands to be danced to—and it is unfailingly upbeat. Like Gene himself. Stan’s song, by contrast, we do very deliberately; people aren’t dancing to that one, they’re listening—and nodding. Every word of it hits home. Other songs that got a good response were “Dead Things in the Shower,” “The Frog Next Door,” “Duct Tape,” “Tillamook Railroad Blues,” and of course “I’m Giving Mom a Dead Dog for Christmas.” The band likes to “rock up” all of these, and it sounds good when they do it. I still need to work on my timing for “Bluebird on My Windshield,” “The Termite Song,” and a few others. My problem, not the band’s; the band have learned how to deal with me—they let me set the tempo with my standard first-few-bars intro, and then they follow, keeping whatever time that was. That means my timing has to be perfect at the outset. The only way I’ll get that is practice. The other thing I need to practice is being fancier on the guitar. The band is gelling easily into a 4-piece combo, with Dick’s blues harp as the lead instrument. That means I need to make up for the absence of a lead guitar. I don’t need to go the Deke Dickerson/Buddy Holly route, and play lead and rhythm at the same time (I never liked how that sounded anyway)—but I do need to return to the tactic I used to use when I was playing solo, of including marginally fancier riffs in the spaces when I’m not singing. Again, the only way I’ll get there is practice. Practice on my own—which I don’t do enough. A couple of notes on the sound, because we did get the sound right this time, I think. We miked my guitar rather than using the pickup; since I tend to be stock-still and deadpan anyway when singing, a stationary mike works fine. It does give the guitar a fuller sound. My singing mike for the vocals, John’s instrument mike for the guitar, one of Dick’s wireless mikes for his blues harp—and the other mounted overhead of the drums, to pick up the “treble” sounds (cymbals and snares). Everything except John’s bass was run through the PA, and we used two little amps (his and mine) for monitors. It took just about an hour to get everything set up; since John had tested everything the night before in his living room, levels didn’t have to be messed with. And people said everything sounded clear and mixed just right. We’ll use the same setup at the Museum gig next Saturday. I could have sold one CD, but I don’t have any left—I gave every one I had to the music store in Tillamook, and I had to send the requesters there. In retrospect, that’s not bad—if they do go there. If somebody actually goes to the Tillamook music store and specifically asks for my record, that sends a message I bet the music store doesn’t often get. Dick’s and my appearance at the “Garibaldi’s Got Talent!” show was good, too; we were easily better (and definitely more professional) than any of the other acts. Had people clapping along to the “Tillamook Railroad Blues,” too. I met the fellow with the Rockaway recording studio, too—turns out he’s the new music teacher for the school district. Got him excited about recording the next album; he understood immediately what “Patsy Cline style” meant, without explanation, and told me he’s got a big room we could do it in. I told him I wanted to hear what he’d done for other folks before I committed to anything, but he’s definitely an option—if I ever have the money, of course. Joe