‘If you don’t have anything nice to say, come and sit next to me” ~Dorothy Parker
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
This Was Just a Nightmare. Any resemblance to persons dead or living is strickly a coincidence
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Trust Me On This...It Could Always Be Worse
No matter how bad or how stupid any situation gets, I need to be able to think of the counter balance. The thing that, in comparison, pales my travails.
Depending on the size of my discomfort, I can fill in the blank with the appropriately horrible event from any time in history. It gives me a lot to work with, and I find that being morbid doesn't bother me at all.
For instance:
"Damn, traffic sucks, and I'm gonna be late for work and get the stink eye from my manager." (I used to refer to him as my "boss" until I realized that ain't nobody the boss of me.)
It could be worse: "We could be in the wreck that caused the traffic, be dead, and not make it to work at all."
Sometimes, I'm quite virtuous in my rationalizations:
"Oh shit, I left my purse on top of the car and it didn't fall off until I hit 65 on the highway. Too bad I took that 300 dollars out of the ATM in case the electric grid died at the stroke of the new millennium."
It could be worse: "I could be one of the homeless people living under the bridge that will find that cash, and it will be like magic at their darkest moment and change their lives forever."
Other times, I have to reach really, really deep, which generally leads to some really, really ugly stuff.:
"Oh hell no, I did not just break both my feet while on vacation!!"
It could be worse: "I could be living in Cambodia, farming a rice paddie, too poor to even dream of a vacation, step on a land mine, get both my feet blown off, and have no access to prosthetics."
Which reminds me, I love me some foreign country, third world, kind of comparisons:
"WTF, who turned the lights out? Is it getting colder in here? Hey, I thought they didn't cut that shit off in the middle of February anymore."
It could be worse: "If we lived in Siberia, we'd always be cold, and have icicles running down our moustaches like in that movie Dr. Zhivago, and have nothing to eat but nasty shit like left over rotten produce we found in the garbage."
" No, the bank did not just charge me a big fat service charge for the favor of bouncing my mortgage payment because I was 79 cents short?"
It could be worse: "Well, I guess we could be starving to death in Ethiopia."
I find the middle east especially helpful when it comes to women's issue's:
"I'm just as smart as any man I've ever met. So why does he earn so much more money for doing the same job?"
It could be worse: "If I lived in the middle east, they would stone me to death in the courtyard."
My mothers personal favorite is Germany, because it covers so much ground:
You can fill in the blank on this one, no matter the how small or large the hardship.
It could be worse: "We could be living in Nazi Germany, poo-poo-poo."
"Mom, does he have to do the entire service in Hebrew, and hasn't he been talking for like 12,000 hours now? I can't feel my legs anymore."
It could be worse: "Be quiet, you could be in a concentration camp."
In closing, I'd like to share with you my current favorite, which is just plain stupid:
"Oh crap, I'm the same age as Susan Boyle!"
It could be worse: "Well, at least I'm not a virgin."
Go ahead, try me. Tell me anything and I'll tell you how it could be worse. So there you have it.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Does Anybody Remember when Alex Chilton Played The Dugout?
To learn more about Alex, go to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CNVSjBRaJss
It's a great story, so I invited Joe to be my first guest blogger ever. Being a gentleman and a scholar, he agreed. He asked me to mention that the story took place 20 years ago.
Does anybody remember when Alex Chilton played The Dugout?
I was the soundman that night and I'd heard nothing but horror stories about how he loved to dress down sound guys from the stage. I was a little nervous as I was still kind of new to Atlanta and we had a more or less thrown together a PA, elements borrowed from here and there.
I did a little research and found out that Alex liked to smoke a little weed. He walked in the club, which was mostly still a sports bar in spite of the new stage and modest lighting rig, with a bit of a skeptical look on his face.
They showed him downstairs, to what would function as his dressing room, and (I'm guessing) offered him some food. I went down and introduced myself,
"Hi, I'm Joe. I'll be your soundman tonight. I have this for you." and handed him a big old hog leg of a doobie.
"I've heard you can be pretty particular about how you like your monitors to sound. I hope we can get them the way you like 'em."
Alex looked at that big fat joint and simply said, "Me, too." ...
About an hour and a half later, Alex and the band got on stage and we had (I'm told) one of the smoothest and quickest sound checks anyone had ever seen Alex have followed by a really terrific set. He even shook my hand afterward.
A few years later I mixed him at the Point. We had a similar pre-show meeting,
"Hey, Mr. Chilton, remember me? I gave you one of these last time."
"Oh, yeah! Good to see you again!" and another smooth show. I just wish I could find the recording I made that night. Oh, well.