Banter? I just met her...
Once Again Swamped by My Own Muck
Okay, so we are having this party at our house tomorrow night and I have so much to do. My dear friend Tom is moving to Boston and my other dear friend Ezra has just become our new roommate. We are saying bon voyage to Tom and welcome to Ezra, hence the party. I am responsible for the video. I have over a years worth of original stuff and I haven't even begun to edit it. I've got 36 hours to do it. Not to mention setting up the house. I'm sure everything will be fine but I am strapped for time. So I am off to edit. Wish me luck and I hope to see you at the shindig.
Here's a new video by a band called "behavement."
I'm Having a Pity Party and You Aren't Invited
For no apparent reason I'm feeling hollow and worthless as an inhabitant of this worldly realm. The day has actually been hassle free. I woke up got dressed in plenty of time, the bus roared around the corner and actually stopped for me, there was no line at SRO for my lunchtime sammy, and I got to work early. I still feel like...
I feel for the first time in my life I am actually attempting to make a positive impact on society. I am constantly filming, shooting, and editing my own projects. When I am not doing that I am learning guitar, bass, drums, moog, whatever instrument is around. When I take a break from whatever project I am working on I pick up the guitar or write or edit. I am constantly learning, teaching myself. So why do I feel so...crappy? I can't explain it. I have friends who care more about me than themselves. If I could carry myself and my persona half as good as my parents I could be king. If I could exude discipline and a constant drive like my brother I could be a cultural icon. But alas, I am not. Sometimes isolation and keeping to yourself can be a cleansing, self-fulfilling experience, but sometimes choosing isolation can be the death of you, or at least a lifetime of being someone's bitch at San Quentin. Look at Ted Kazinsky.
I think I need to find a girlfriend. I try not to think about it but of course I always think about it. Why is it so hard? I think I am unwilling to give up anything I have for a woman. That is easy to say when you are not sharing yourself with a partner. I was engaged once but it didn't work out and it really messed me up. That was three years ago and I haven't had a girlfriend since. It is hard to open up and share your every thought and feeling with someone when your heart has been broken. It has made me much more selective and raised my standards, not to mention my phobia of opening up to people. That is both a bad and a good thing. I refuse to "settle" for something just to fill a void. That is cowardly and selfish. I refuse to take a vow for life with someone just so I will not "die alone." Too many Americans are so afraid to be alone they do settle and a year later they are paralyzed by debt, divorce, and loss of friendships. I will not do this. I know there is a perfect match for me out there somewhere and if I don't find her until I am fifty so be it.
My life is great. But if I had an soulmate to finish my sentences or put in that dissolve or throw in that hook exactly where it should go, that is the only thing I will settle for. Then again it wouldn't be settling. I know it will be perfect in the true sense of the word once I find that missing piece but I cannot and will not force a square peg into a round hole.
Sorry you missed the party, I'm out of Kleenex.
This is what I did for Thanksgiving in LA.
You may need Quicktime to view the files. Enjoy!
Movie 1 entitled Somebody Else
Movie 2 entitled Bababa01
Movie 3 entitled Powdered Milk
I Gave Thanks
I had the best Thanksgiving I have had in many years. I would like to extend my gratitude and thanks to Mat and Harper for having a perfect Thanksgiving feast. The food was unbelieveable but the love and friendship that was shared from and to all of us was the highlight of the holiday. Thank ya'll.
I would also like to cordially thank Rob, Kailin(?), and Michael for opening their home to us and giving us the opportunity to play music with three extraordinary artists. Thank ya'll; next time we all have to play up here. I have several mp3's for us, hopefully I can get those up today.
It is great to have such unique friendships. I am truly blessed.
Parents Can See the Future
I broke my wrist five seconds after my pop told me I would. You know how some things you have crystal clear images of from your past? Well this is one of those scenes. My mother, father, brother, and myself headed up to the Outer Banks of North Carolina for a family vacation when I was just a tike, maybe 6 or 7 years old. Jay and I were so excited to go to the beach. When we got close to the ocean Jay and I were like the family dog, sticking our heads out the window and chomping on the ocean breeze. We could hardly contain ourselves.
After a never ending drive we finally completed our 8 hour journey and bolted out of the car like a kindergarten kid at recess. We were ecstatic. We immediately started running nowhere in particular and yelling and screaming nothing coherent. We were at the beach for two weeks. No school, no babysitters, no bus rides. Just me, mom, dad, the ocean, the pool, and endless swimming. I was in peewee heaven. Dad finally calmed us down as much as he could and proceeded to check us in to our hotel room. Right outside the lobby was an oversized set of monkey bars. Being there was no other mischief readily available I ran right to the bars and started to reach for the first rung thinking,"I'm going to make it to the end of this thing even if it kills me." About that time I heard pop say to me,"Jeff get off that thing, you're gonna break your wrist." Of course, I didn't listen. The next thing I know I am dangling from one arm, from what looks like ten stories down, and slipping. I plunge to earth, my arm breaks my fall. I scream a primal scream, jump up and run to pop crying as he scoops me in his arms and races me off to the hospital. I broke my wrist.
Pop could have said, "I told you so." But he understood. He knew what it was like to be an excited little boy at the beach. He knew how excited I was to be there, he knew I wouldn't be able to enjoy the beach now, and he also knew he wasn't going to let this ruin his sons vacation. After I calmed down and got my wrist to shoulder cast, I was miserable. Jay was running all over the beach and swimming and building sand castles and playing with the other kids and I was sulking with mom and dad on the sea wall. Little did I know my parents had a trick up their sleeve. They bought three loaves of Roman Meal bread specifically for waterproofoing. They dumped out the bread and triple plied my cast with the plastic and we all went into the ocean. I felt normal again. I forgot about my cast and enjoyed myself. Mom and Pop would not let a broken arm ruin my vacation, and it didn't.
I am so lucky to have mom and pop. They have made me who I am by enstilling in me who they are. They are my two best friends. We continually learn from eachother and accept, which make all three of us unique and strikingly similar at the same time. I consider myself a portion of the precious few who look to their parents for any and all things from advice, to sorrow, to vacation pals, to soulmates. Oh, did I mention they can both see the future?
I Owe it All to the Sable
We got all the way to Oklahoma City before we called our parents. Jim, Craig, and I had been planning our cross country journey for about three months before Craig bailed out at the last minute. It was a girl thing. He called us the night before we left and said he wasn't going, we didn't understand but Jim and I swore we wouldn't tell our parents until we had already left. We didn't want to jeopardize our high-school graduation gift. So Jim and I took off from Atlanta, GA in my mom's new, black Mercury Sable headed for Cali. We called our parents when we got to Oklahoma City and informed them of Craig, they couldn't believe we had gone so far and they thought it funny that we didn't call till Oklahoma City. They viewed it as Craig's loss. We decided to find a hotel for the night but to our chagrin there wasn't a room within 100 miles of Oklahoma city, being high season for traveling and all. So we decided to take turns and roll through the night. We drank several Big Gulps of coke each and listened to every DIO album as loud as it would go until we reached Flagstaff, AZ: a mere 26 hours later. The next day we were in San Diego.
It is very difficult to describe the feelings I had on that trip. I was out on my own for the first time. High-school was over and college would begin in three months. I was free as a bird in a new land and loving every minute of it. From Newport Beach to Chavez Ravine to Santa Cruz to Alcatraz to Yosemite to Bishop, CA to Vegas. We were 18 with wheels in the US with nothing but time. This trip taught me the west is where I should be. I cannot describe one specific instance where I realized this but I think the trip as a whole engrained in me that "the west is the best."
It is funny, my companion on that trip also lives in San Francisco. We were both raised as well to do, suburban kids from the heart of the new south where tradition, family, and football are king. We both went to college in the deep south yet we choose to live our lives in California. Why is that? I don't know but I guess that spark that so many pioneers and gold miners and visionaries felt way back when, ignited us as well. I wouldn't live anywhere else.
Thanks Jim for taking that trip with me, I don't think either of us knew we would be living here 12 years later, but then again I think the moment we saw this place at 18 we knew this would someday be home.
Today I have decided to sacrifice a day for the good of the Minister. Search engines beware:
Brittany Spears and Jennifer Lopez are cool. Brittany Spears drinks Pepsi. President George Bush does not like Osama Bin Laden. Osama Bin Laden is the head of Al Qaeda and the Taliban. Tom Brokaw and NBC News had anthrax sent to them. The New Yok times reported this. The New York Yankees lost the World Series. Randy Johnson won the Cy Young. Curt Schilling did not. Did I mention Brittany Spears is cool? Harry Potter comes out today. Harry Potter will makes lots of money. Harry Potter.
That should help.
Baseball and Losers
How can baseball even consider getting rid of teams that have won the world series. It just doesn't seem right to me. I mean I hate the Twins more than any other team in baseball after what they did to us in '91 but, if anything, that should be more of a reason to not even consider yanking the franchise. It's just not right. Ok, maybe the Marlins I can understand. Win series, yard sale...weak. But a grass roots organization like the Twins? That is just well...unamerican. And the Expos have the coolest uniforms in the league, at least they used to.
Oh yeah, baseball is a business. Damn I'm stupid.
~Schilling you were robbed. That Cy Young belongs to you.~
I puked on some guys' new leather jacket in a bar in Steamboat Springs. He followed me out to the parking lot and punched me in the face. I thanked him and went home. My friends thought it was funny.
Jay and I used to love it when our cousin Doyle would come visit. He lived in Durham, NC and we were in Atlanta. My brother Jay was the oldest, Doyle was a year younger, and I was a year younger than Doyle. So of course I got the brunt of it. Those two picked on me more than would be legal these days but I didn't care because I got to hang out with the older, cooler crowd.
One day when Doyle was in town and mom got sick of us yelling and screaming in the house and neighborhood she promised that, "Since ya'll have been so good during Doyle's stay I am going to take you to Wet Willy's (waterslide/barrel o' fun) tomorrow." We were so ecstatic we just started sceaming nothing in particular, just screaming. To this mom replied,"BE QUIET...SHUT UP!!" "Dammit, you have to be good boys until tomorrow or we won't go." We shut up immediately.
The next day after we got our morning Crunch Berry jolt of hyperactivity we were all about the waterslide. "Mom can we go to Wet Willy's now? Mom can we go now? Can we go now?" "IF YOU ASK ME AGAIN WE WON"T GO !!!" We shut up. "Now go downstairs and be quiet until I tell you it is time to go!" "Yes ma'am" As an important sidenote, Wet Willy's was on Highway 41, commonly known as car dealer alley, mom was about to jockey pop for a new ride. She is no dummy. "Two birds with one stone." she thought.
Jay, Doyle, and I reluctantly head downstairs for the tv room and I get bored very quickly. I go into my room and pick up my sombrero mom and dad got me in Spain several years before. I put the hat on and proceed to walk towards the tv room hoping to get a laugh from Jay and Doyle. "My name is RI-co, I live in CHI-co, I make five dollars a day..." About this time I turn the corner and for a split second I see my big brother with his arm cocked with a tennis ball in his hand. I had no time to react. The next thing I know I am curled up on the floor in the fetal position grasping for what is left of my prepubescent testicles. He hit me dead on in the nuts. I don't know who was louder, me crying or Jay and Doyle laughing. I immediately ran to mommy.
Mom was hot. She was sick of me crying, she was sick of Jay picking on me, and she was sick of driving her piece of shit '65 Volvo. She came tromping down the stairs, me grabbing onto her motherly cape. "JAY SAUNDERS...COME HERE TO ME!!" "yes ma'am." "You are going to be looking at new cars with me today instead of going to the waterslide." I was ecstatic, me, Doyle and no Jay. "But ma..." "I do not want to hear it now let's go!"
The best part of the day though was seeing Jay with mom in the showroom of the Buick dealership while I was next door draped in my waterslide mat and soaking wet and waving. I know he saw me and I knew I would get a huge beating when he finally got me alone. But I won for just one day. Eventhough my nuts were purple for a week.
I Hate the rain
Today it is raining buckets. I don't have an umbrella, my raincoat is so old the gortex has worn off, my jeans are drenched, my shoes and socks are sopping wet and I woke up sick as a dog. Happy Monday!!!
bahhumbug from the b
San Francisco is Bubblin'
Todays count: 1
It is a great time to be in San Francisco. I have had several conversations with different people over the past few days and all independently have commented on the fact that the scene in SF is vibrant with fresh. The dotcom is over and the suits are heading back to dad's business, taking the easy road. Well the cool thing is that the people who are staying are creating. There is an underworld buzz in it's cocoon state and we are all trying to figure out what happens next. My friend Tom compared it to an inhale/ exhale effect. When the net was booming the city was inhaling all this wealth, population, flash, arrogance, did I say money?, power cars, power suits and power people. Now the city is regenerating itself and exhaling all those same people who were here for the quick buck, but the lifeline of the city, the artists, is begining to take hold again.
I think this time will produce completely new and different styles from art, to music, to film, to theater. The arts tend to reflect society and the scenesters here can't wait to show you what this boom time in SF meant to them.
Watch out for the San Francisco Rennaisance...I give HAMoTAM a year till we play the Rose Bowl.
"The Dude abides."~The Big Lebowski
Thanks for the insight Mat and Tom.
Just in time
Editor's Note: You can now comment on Jeff's posts. See the comment link at the bottom of each post. Z
Rite of Passage
I am a little embarrased to write about this but I am also kind of proud of myself. I voted for the first time yesterday.
I walked across the street to the Boys and Girls club last night to vote. I was a nervous wreck. I walked into the room and was excited to see that my name was on the list. JEFFREY ADAIR SAUNDERS. "Sign here please." said the pubescent teenager while her simliarly pubescent cohort chortled,"Do you want a cover envelope for your ballot?" as she handed me my first ballot. "Sure" I said, showing absolutely no sense of confidence or experience at what I was doing. I took my ballot and cover envelope and walked over to the, what seemed, Everest sized voting booths. As soon as I sat my papers in the voting cube I was bombarded by thoughts of Al Gore and Florida and punch holes and "What do I do next? Am I suppossed to line this thing up somewhere so I can puch holes in it? There are no holes on this ballot...what am I doing...I am a complete moron...I am in the 1% who can't read a ballot." I begin to sweat profusely and search frantically for any type of instructions. Is everyone laughing at me? "Look at that idiot, he must be a frst time voter." I then look down and see a black felt tip pen and finally realize there are no punch holes. "Calm down Jeff, calm down." I finnally figure out you just fill in a black line to cast your vote. "Good boy." I begin filling out my ballot, Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes, man this is easy. I then turn to the page where you actually vote for people. Treasurer, Attorney, etc. I am not an informed voter. I was just impressed I made it to the booth. I vote for one person, informed of by Mat, and leave the rest blank. I do not want to vote for someone I know nothing about so I choose to leave several parts blank. I check over my blackening prowess and conclude "my work is done here." I proceed to hand in my ballot and grumpy, ballot box guy tells me to,"Just rip off the top perforations and slide your ballot in the box." "No problem" I say. Page one, smooth as silk. Page two, ALARMS, BELLS, WHISTLES. "Do you know you left some spaces blank?" says teen 1. "Yes I do" I say. "Well do you want to fill them in?" "No" I say with authority. I start to sweat again,"Please God just get me out of here." "It usually goes through the second time" says teen 1 as I reinsert my page two with clammy hands. ALARMS, BELLS, WHISTLES "I am never voting again." I think. "Try it again with both hands this time." says teen 2 with a Thanks-for-breaking-our-government-issue-ballot-box-you-jackass look on her face. "I swear to GOD I am never voting again" I think. Finnally the machine takes my sheet and this overwhelming calm takes over my body. I have done my cicvic duty.
It felt good after I walked outside and told myself I made a difference. Everything has changed. Now I can debate politics with a clear conscience knowing that yes, I do vote. I feel empowered. I beat that dreaded box! I am somebody! I look forward to many more voting experiences and I will walk in on the next voting day and just dare that box to spit out my ballot. I own you ballot box!
I Hope You Feel Better Harper.
Let's all wish Sicky Sickerson a day full of Echinacia dreams and Contact Caviar.
Live music is Expression
Today's count:0 (I'm baiting but no biting)
I went to go see Mike Watt and the Jom and Terry show last night at the Bottom of the Hill
with my friends Mat and Cheryl and, once again had my socks knocked off. I know I said
the same thing after the Dj Shadow show and I have been asking myself why do these
live shows stir up so many emotions inside me? Self-Expression, TIGHT self-
expression. This is what these people do. They create. They have achieved happiness.
They started off doing something they enjoyed doing, a hobby. The music then turned from a
hobby to an obsession, something these people could not live without. Then they get good
enough to make a living out of doing it. It comes from the heart and it all started with a love for
music, a love for making beats, a love for creation, a love of art for arts' sake. When you love
something so blindly that it becomes part of you: that is when you become a genius. Mike Watt
is a genius, Dj Shadow is a genius. The commonalities these two share is not their style, their
instrument, their music, their audience, or their band. They are common only with their love and
obsession with making music which brings them blind happiness. It is a non-compromising desire.
They would literally wilt away and die without it. That is why their music is genius. They don't care
about record contracts and labels and cheesy record execs. They care about getting their rocks off
by becoming their passion. They become the music and when that happens magic is created.
So I advise you all to go out and see live music, theater, film, whatever because these artists are the
smart and lucky one's who have their fingers on the pulse. They are the one's who can bring out your
deepest emotions. They cleanse, anger, excite, energize by wearing their hearts on their sleeves and
showing the audience their deepest concerns and emotions. If it wasn't for people creating for other's this
world would be a sad, boring place.
But still dangerous as hell.
At least that's what I think.
My apologies to Rodney
"So what? So let's dance!" Rodney Dangerfield as Al Czerck in "Caddyshack"
I Guess God Isn't a Yankee
I was so excited last night when Rivera lost the series for the Yanks. Changing of the guard,
suckas! It was a great game though and I am happy for the Dbacks. Not really the team as
a whole but there are some great stories. Bob Brenly is the first rookie manager since 1960
to win a Series; he was a Giants announcer last year you know. Mark Grace and Mike Morgan
win their first series after being in the league for what seems like a quarter century each. All with
crappy teams I might add. Schilling finally wins one and is heralded as the work horse he has
always been. Randy Johnson, I just love the evolution of his mullet.
Although I must say, I never liked the name "Diamondbacks." It just sounds like an arena football
name, not a world series champion.
Just an update, the bridges are both still standing.
"So what? So let's dance!" Kevin Bacon~"Footloose"
Steinbrenner Cut a Deal with God and the Devil
I just cannot believe what happened last night. I think Steinbrenner has bullied Lewis Cipher
and Jesus Christ onto his payroll and told them if they don't win he will banish them to Beantown
to endure a baseball life of horrible trades, nagging injuries, clubhouse strife, and gross
mismanagement. Hell, nobody wants that, especially the princes' of darkness and peace.
These two have finally become friends again and I hold those damn pinstripe uniforms responsible.
Oh yeah, I heard these two were seen last week at Belaggio cavorting with a "unamed" Arizona relief
pitcher who answers to a girls' name. Of course this is all rumor.
One other note. I am so appalled at our Governor, Gray Davis, for telling all of California that one of the
beautiful bridges in our state has been targeted for destruction between November 2-7. I forgot he is a
juggernaut in foreign policy and terrorist activity, he is surely "in the know." Thanks Governor Davis for feeding
the frenzy of mass hysteria in California over "presumptions" and "assumptions" and playing into the terrorists'
hands of making the common person change his daily routine out of fear and fear alone. He is handling this
crisis as well as the summer energy crisis. His parents hit the nail on the head when they named him Gray.
Thanks to all for your responses to my rants, it is really appreciated. I am new to this game so bear with me.
It can't get any worse can it? I better shut up while I am ahead.
"I feel like a poker in someone's fireplace."~The Minutemen-"Double Nickles on the Dime"
Sorry for the late post, I was the late guy today. I really have nothing interesting to report today
so I will just say I hate the Yankees, I love the Braves, I hate the Hawks, I hate NASCAR, I love
The Minutmen, I love Ben and Jerry's Peanut Buttercup, I hate my new roommate Ezra, and I hate
being gramatically correct, I hate stereotypes, I hate hate, I love guitars, I love my friends, I love my
family, and I love myself.
"Peace out to the real and death to the Fakers."~Outkast-"Southernplayalisticadillacmusic"