Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Sunday, February 14, 2010
i'm taking lessons again
First, before explaining why I'm taking lessons again, here's a shout out for my teacher, Arlyn Anderson - http://www.arlynanderson.com - check his website out and make sure you go see him play. Not only is he a great player, he's a super nice guy.
Arlyn is the 5th person I've taken lessons from in the almost 35 years that I've been playing guitar.
I started playing guitar when I was 14. I had played Bb clarinet starting in 4rd grade or so - that choice being influenced by my mother, who every summer would go watch her Dad, Nevin Barclay, play in Chicago where he was a local jazz musician.
His main instrument was piano, but "Pops" also played guitar and banjo, and a lot of Dixieland jazz. Mom loved Dixieland jazz, so she thought that if I wanted to play an instrument, the greatest idea in the world would be for me to play clarinet.
I got good enough on clarinet to be 1st chair in junior high concert band. Then an odd thing happened - puberty! I starting growing a lot and my armature changed, and my beautiful clarinet tone just went kaput. I figured I needed a cooler instrument, because 3rd chair clarinet sucked when you *used* to be 1st chair clarinet. Later on, after I started playing guitar, I switched to bass clarinet for concert band and orchestra in high school.
I was listening to ELP a lot when I was 14, and I bugged my parents, without success, for a Moog synthesizer and then a set of drums. Finally, I moved "down" to guitar. For Christmas 1975, I got a Yamaha acoustic folk guitar that Dad paid $200 for. I already knew how to read music (and that has been a vital skill that I encourage all young musicians to learn before anything else, regardless of what instrument you play - the more you know about reading music, the better of a musician you will become, and faster).
It didn't take me long over that Christmas break to rip though the instructional booklet that came with the guitar, so Dad found a teacher for me, a local jazz guy named Ben Harrison.
Ben was the guy I studied with the longest - almost two years or so - and he was a straight ahead jazz player who taught me all the basic chord forms. He was impressed by how quickly I picked up and played the various chord forms well. He noted that in 20+ years of teaching, he'd only had a few students that mastered chords so quickly. It certainly helped that I would practice for hours and hours until my fingers were too sore to practice anymore.
Ben taught me enough that I was able to win a spot in my junior high jazz band. For a while, I borrowed an amp from one of the other kids at school and I was a member of a basement band called The Echoes that played two gigs at Franklin Junior High - a mixer and a talent show.
Shortly after that, the amp was no longer available, and Dad took out a loan for $600 to get me a Fender Stratocaster and a Peavey amp at probably 17-18 percent interest (it was the 70s and welcome to hyperinflation). The junior high band director went onto to become the band director at my high school, and I made it into the Roosevelt High School jazz band because I could sight read and actually play chord charts.
That was three fun years! Jazz festivals, kicking butt, and I learned to solo well enough (but hey, it was Iowa, and I was a big fish in a very small pond of jazz guitar players) to pick up 15 solo awards in 3 years. I later bought a Gibson ES-335 and I was one of the first guitarists in Iowa to drag two guitars on stage. Shortly after the first couple of festivals my senior year, *other* guitarists started dragging out two at a time. Ah, to be a trendsetter.
At that time, since I needed to read single lines on guitar better - a lot of our big band charts had a ton of single lines you needed to be able to play on guitar - I started taking lessons from Bill Swick, who was the director of jazz studies at Drake University in Des Moines. Bill taught me to read on the guitar... but that was about all I got out of him, the guy had a terribly abrasive ego, as did another guy I took two lessons from - Don Archer. I also took a couple of lessons from a local rock guitarist whose name I cannot recall.
But I learned enough in 3 years of intensive study to play in a decent high school jazz band that's still considered one of the best from 77-81 in Iowa high school festival history, and I was good enough to play in Jazz II at Northern Iowa and the University of Iowa.
Fast forward past graduate school and two marriages, where, other than some gigs with the Jerry Tolson's quintet during summer 1985 - the highlight of which was playing Seniom Sed at Nollen Plaza in downtown Des Moines - I spent the next 25 years playing for the Four Walls band at home.
In December 2008, I discovered the Tuesday night jam sessions run by Sac State students at Capitol Garage in downtown Sacramento, and I've not missed many Tuesdays since then. I've taken my 8 year old daughter with me to watch Dad play twice, and I've made a lot of great friends. Arlyn is the house band guitarist (when he's not gigging elsewhere) on Tuesday. I'm really jacked about taking lessons from him, he's got a lot of great guitar knowledge to share... and I just simply want to get better!
Arlyn is the 5th person I've taken lessons from in the almost 35 years that I've been playing guitar.
I started playing guitar when I was 14. I had played Bb clarinet starting in 4rd grade or so - that choice being influenced by my mother, who every summer would go watch her Dad, Nevin Barclay, play in Chicago where he was a local jazz musician.
His main instrument was piano, but "Pops" also played guitar and banjo, and a lot of Dixieland jazz. Mom loved Dixieland jazz, so she thought that if I wanted to play an instrument, the greatest idea in the world would be for me to play clarinet.
I got good enough on clarinet to be 1st chair in junior high concert band. Then an odd thing happened - puberty! I starting growing a lot and my armature changed, and my beautiful clarinet tone just went kaput. I figured I needed a cooler instrument, because 3rd chair clarinet sucked when you *used* to be 1st chair clarinet. Later on, after I started playing guitar, I switched to bass clarinet for concert band and orchestra in high school.
I was listening to ELP a lot when I was 14, and I bugged my parents, without success, for a Moog synthesizer and then a set of drums. Finally, I moved "down" to guitar. For Christmas 1975, I got a Yamaha acoustic folk guitar that Dad paid $200 for. I already knew how to read music (and that has been a vital skill that I encourage all young musicians to learn before anything else, regardless of what instrument you play - the more you know about reading music, the better of a musician you will become, and faster).
It didn't take me long over that Christmas break to rip though the instructional booklet that came with the guitar, so Dad found a teacher for me, a local jazz guy named Ben Harrison.
Ben was the guy I studied with the longest - almost two years or so - and he was a straight ahead jazz player who taught me all the basic chord forms. He was impressed by how quickly I picked up and played the various chord forms well. He noted that in 20+ years of teaching, he'd only had a few students that mastered chords so quickly. It certainly helped that I would practice for hours and hours until my fingers were too sore to practice anymore.
Ben taught me enough that I was able to win a spot in my junior high jazz band. For a while, I borrowed an amp from one of the other kids at school and I was a member of a basement band called The Echoes that played two gigs at Franklin Junior High - a mixer and a talent show.
Shortly after that, the amp was no longer available, and Dad took out a loan for $600 to get me a Fender Stratocaster and a Peavey amp at probably 17-18 percent interest (it was the 70s and welcome to hyperinflation). The junior high band director went onto to become the band director at my high school, and I made it into the Roosevelt High School jazz band because I could sight read and actually play chord charts.
That was three fun years! Jazz festivals, kicking butt, and I learned to solo well enough (but hey, it was Iowa, and I was a big fish in a very small pond of jazz guitar players) to pick up 15 solo awards in 3 years. I later bought a Gibson ES-335 and I was one of the first guitarists in Iowa to drag two guitars on stage. Shortly after the first couple of festivals my senior year, *other* guitarists started dragging out two at a time. Ah, to be a trendsetter.
At that time, since I needed to read single lines on guitar better - a lot of our big band charts had a ton of single lines you needed to be able to play on guitar - I started taking lessons from Bill Swick, who was the director of jazz studies at Drake University in Des Moines. Bill taught me to read on the guitar... but that was about all I got out of him, the guy had a terribly abrasive ego, as did another guy I took two lessons from - Don Archer. I also took a couple of lessons from a local rock guitarist whose name I cannot recall.
But I learned enough in 3 years of intensive study to play in a decent high school jazz band that's still considered one of the best from 77-81 in Iowa high school festival history, and I was good enough to play in Jazz II at Northern Iowa and the University of Iowa.
Fast forward past graduate school and two marriages, where, other than some gigs with the Jerry Tolson's quintet during summer 1985 - the highlight of which was playing Seniom Sed at Nollen Plaza in downtown Des Moines - I spent the next 25 years playing for the Four Walls band at home.
In December 2008, I discovered the Tuesday night jam sessions run by Sac State students at Capitol Garage in downtown Sacramento, and I've not missed many Tuesdays since then. I've taken my 8 year old daughter with me to watch Dad play twice, and I've made a lot of great friends. Arlyn is the house band guitarist (when he's not gigging elsewhere) on Tuesday. I'm really jacked about taking lessons from him, he's got a lot of great guitar knowledge to share... and I just simply want to get better!
Monday, February 8, 2010
weekend awesomeness
Well, it wasn't THAT awesome, but I splurged for a pair of pink Chuck hi-tops... I'm either improving my coolness or dorkiness factors (or perhaps both! A two-fer).
For my East Coast sportsfans... and of course, you can find more on You Tube...
Of course, C4 might be more fun. But harder to obtain.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
we have some issues here
Jack Burton: I'm a reasonable guy. But, I've just experienced some very unreasonable things.
Jack Burton: Feel pretty good. I'm not, uh, I'm not scared at all. I just feel kind of... feel kind of invincible.
Wang Chi: Me, too. I got a very positive attitude about this.
Jack Burton: Good, me too.
Wang Chi: Yeah!
[pause]
Jack Burton: Is it getting hot in here, or is it just me?
Jack Burton: Ol' Jack always says... what the hell?
Jack Burton: When some wild-eyed, eight-foot-tall maniac grabs your neck, taps the back of your favorite head up against the barroom wall, and he looks you crooked in the eye and he asks you if ya paid your dues, you just stare that big sucker right back in the eye, and you remember what ol' Jack Burton always says at a time like that: "Have ya paid your dues, Jack?" "Yessir, the check is in the mail."
Jack Burton: You know what ol' Jack Burton always says at a time like this?
Thunder: Who?
Jack Burton: Jack Burton. *Me*!
Jack Burton: Like I told my last wife, I says, "Honey, I never drive faster than I can see. Besides that, it's all in the reflexes."
Jack Burton: Well, ya see, I'm not saying that I've been everywhere and I've done everything, but I do know it's a pretty amazing planet we live on here, and a man would have to be some kind of FOOL to think we're alone in THIS universe.
Jack Burton: Everybody relax, I'm here.
Jack Burton: Tall guy, weird clothes. First you see him, then you don't.
Jack Burton: This is gonna take crackerjack timing, Wang.
Jack Burton: Would you stop rubbing your body up against mine, because I can't concentrate when you do that.
Jack Burton: That is not water.
Egg Shen: Black blood of the earth.
Jack Burton: Do you mean oil?
Egg Shen: I mean black blood of the earth.
Jack Burton: Okay. You people sit tight, hold the fort and keep the home fires burning. And if we're not back by dawn... call the president.
Wang Chi: Here's to the Army and Navy and the battles they have won; here's to America's colors, the colors that never run.
Jack Burton: May the wings of liberty never lose a feather.
Gracie: I'd go with you but...
Jack Burton: I know, there's a problem with your face.
Jack Burton: [tapping on the walls] Two, three feet thick, I'll bet. Probably welded shut from the outside, and covered with brick by now!
Wang Chi: Don't give up, Jack!
Jack Burton: Oh, okay, I won't, Wang! Let's just *chew* our way outta here.
[last lines]
Jack Burton: Just remember what ol' Jack Burton does when the earth quakes, and the poison arrows fall from the sky, and the pillars of Heaven shake. Yeah, Jack Burton just looks that big ol' storm right square in the eye and he says, "Give me your best shot, pal. I can take it."
Wang Chi: You ready, Jack?
Jack Burton: I was born ready.
Wang Chi: Nothin' or double, Jack.
Jack Burton: All I know is, this Lo Pan character comes out of thin air in the middle of a goddamn alley while his buddies are flying around on wires cutting everybody to shreds, and he just stands there waiting for me to drive my truck straight through him with *light* coming out of his mouth!
Jack Burton: We really shook the pillars of heaven, didn't we, Wang?
Jack Burton: What's in the flask, Egg? Magic potion?
Egg Shen: Yeah.
Jack Burton: Thought so, good. What do we do, drink it?
Egg Shen: Yeah!
Jack Burton: Good! Thought so.
Jack Burton: [pointing to Chinese writing on elevator] What does that say?
Wang Chi: [speaks Chinese] Hell of Boiling Oil.
Jack Burton: You're kidding.
Wang Chi: Yeah, I am. It says Keep Out.
Egg Shen: It will come out no more!
Jack Burton: What? Huh? What'll come out no more?
Egg Shen: Come on.
Jack Burton: Dammit!
Jack Burton: You can go off and rule the universe from beyond the grave.
Lo Pan: Indeed!
Jack Burton: Or check into a psycho ward, which ever comes first, huh?
Jack Burton: Son of a bitch must pay!
Wang Chi: That's why the bottle didn't slice. My mind and my spirit are goin' north and south.
Eddie: Well sure it was a war. And anybody that showed up was gonna join Lem Lee in the Hell of Being Cut to Pieces.
Jack Burton: Hell of being what?
Eddie: Chinese have a lot of Hells.
Uncle Chu: What the hell is Gracie Law doing here?
Jack Burton: She can't get enough of me.
Gracie: Hah! He wishes.
Jack Burton: I don't get this at all. I thought Lo Pan...
Lo Pan: Shut up, Mr. Burton! You are not brought upon this world to get it!
[Jack points to the wall]
Jack Burton: Hollow?
Wang Chi: Hollow.
Jack Burton: Fuck it.
[Jack wacks open the hollow wall with his knife]
Jack Burton: This is Jack Burton in the Pork Chop Express, and I'm talkin' to whoever's listenin' out there.
[in a whore house]
Jack Burton: Henry Swanson's my name, and excitement's my game.
White Tiger: Cash or charge?
Jack Burton: Oh gosh, cash, I guess. I mean it's not deductible, is it.
Jack Burton: Oh, my god, no. Please! What is that? Don't tell me!
Egg Shen: A guardian. What it sees, Lo Pan knows!
Miao Yin: I don't belong to you.
Lo Pan: You don't. You belong to Ching Dai. I must sacrifice you. But I love you and I need you.
Miao Yin: No!
Lo Pan: Here take her. Take the bitch!
Jack Burton: Wang, these guys, these Sing Dings...
Wang Chi: Chang Sings.
Jack Burton: They got enemies?
Wang Chi: Wing Kong.
Jack Burton: Who wear red turbans?
Wang Chi: [sees they're now surrounded by Wing Kong warriors] Holy SHIT! These guys are animals, Jack!
[on phone to insurance company]
Jack Burton: I'm gonna tell you about an accident, and I don't wanna hear "act of God"!
Jack Burton: What does that mean? Huh? "China is here." I don't even know what the hell that means.
Margo: This is just so shocking. I mean I must just be so monumentally naive.
Eddie: You are.
Lo Pan: And now, my beloved disciples. The moment of truth... the needle of love.
Lo Pan: What does it mean? Two girls with green eyes. After all these years.
Gracie: You bastards, unchain me. You're not gonna get away with this. Where's Lo Pan?
Lo Pan: [speaks Chinese] This one has fire as well!
Thunder: Play your cards right... you live to talk about it!
Jack Burton: Which Lo Pan? Little old basket case on wheels or the ten foot tall roadblock?
Egg Shen: Can see things no one else can see. Do things no one else can do.
Jack Burton: Real things?
Egg Shen: As real as Lo Pan!
Jack Burton: Hey, what more can a guy ask for?
Egg Shen: Oh, the six-demon bag!
Jack Burton: Terrific, a six-demon bag. Sensational. What's in it, Egg?
Egg Shen: Wind, fire, all that kind of thing!
Pinstripe lawyer: Okay. But if I'm gonna be your attorney, there are a few things that I have to know that, uh, still don't make any sense to me. Like, um, you really believe in magic?
Egg Shen: You mean Chinese black magic?
Pinstripe lawyer: Yes.
Egg Shen: Oh, absolutely.
Pinstripe lawyer: Are you still serious about this? And, uh, monsters and ghosts as well, I suppose?
Egg Shen: Oh, sure. And sorcery.
Pinstripe lawyer: And I suppose that, uh, you expect me to believe in sorcery as well?
Egg Shen: Of course!
Pinstripe lawyer: Why?
Egg Shen: Because it's real.
Pinstripe lawyer: How can I know that, Mr. Shen?
Egg Shen: How?
Pinstripe lawyer: Yes, how? Help me out here. Please, how?
[Shen raises his hands, and a small bolt of lightning jumps between his palms. The lawyer stares, open-mouthed]
Egg Shen: See? That was nothing. But that's how it always begins. Very small.
Margo: God, aren't you even gonna kiss her goodbye?
Jack Burton: Nope.
Jack Burton: [speaking to Lo Pan] Are you crazy... Is that your problem?
Gracie: [Jack starts up the Pork Chop Express] What was that?
Jack Burton: 6.9 on the Richter scale!
Lo Pan: [spots Gracie, Margo and Eddie on a security monitor] Who are these people? Friends of yours, huh? Now this really pisses me off to no end!
Jack Burton: We made it. Holy shit, we made it!
Jack Burton: I took something. I can see things no one else can see. Why're you dressed like that?
Wang Chi: They got this sorta clubhouse thing, you know, where they all hang out.
Jack Burton: Sharpen their knives, huh?
Wang Chi: I can't ask you to...
Jack Burton: Where is it?
Wang Chi: Thank you, Jack.
Jack Burton: You got a tongue, Dave. Ask her yourself.
Lo Pan: There have been others, to be sure. There are always others, are there not? You seem to be one who knows the difficulties between men and women. How seldom it works out.
Lo Pan: They have returned. And this time they are not alone. Egg Shen is with them. Little bastard sorcerer has brought them through the Bog of the Dead Trees.
[calling to him telepathically]
Lo Pan: Egg Shen... EGG SHEN! You have come a long ways to find me. But it is too late. There are two girls with green eyes, and I will marry them both. And then I will sacrifice Gracie Law to appease my emperor and live out my earthly pleasures with MiaoYin.
[cackles]
Lo Pan: That's right, Egg Shen. The best of two worlds!
Gracie: [on their way to confront Lo Pan] Do you have a gun, I hope?
Jack Burton: I have a knife.
Gracie: A knife? This guy's twelve feet tall!
Jack Burton: Seven. Hey, don't worry, I can handle him.
Lo Pan: You never could beat me, Egg Shen.
Egg Shen: Lo Pan is down there.
Jack Burton: Down where?
Egg Shen: Where is the universe?
Jack Burton: Abandoned like hell!
[walking outside in the rain, Jack and Egg fight for control of the umbrella]
Wang Chi: A brave man likes the feel of nature on his face, Jack.
Egg Shen: Yeah, and a wise man has enough sense to get in out of the rain!
Jack Burton: Is this gonna get ugly, now? Huh? I hope not. Because I thought what we were here, racial differences notwithstanding, was just a couple of old friends. You know, just both of us Californians.
Wang Chi: Jack, first I gotta go somewhere, Jack.
Jack Burton: No, you don't.
Wang Chi: Yeah, I do. So how 'bout we meet at my restaurant in a few hours, you know? I pay the money then.
Jack Burton: Pay the money now! Where you gotta go?
Wang Chi: The airport.
Jack Burton: Yeah, right. Over my dead body.
Wang Chi: If need be.
Gracie: Don't panic, it's only me, Gracie Law!
Wang Chi: Jack, listen, I need more of your help. I can't pay you today, okay?
Jack Burton: Oh, shit.
Wang Chi: How can I? I need all my cash for Miao Yin.
Eddie: And it's gonna cost. She's got green eyes.
Gracie: Oh no, seriously? Oh, that's an extra to these people. It's like leather bucket seats, it's double the price.
[first lines]
Pinstripe lawyer: What I'd like to do today is get your version of what happened.
Egg Shen: Oh, you mean the truth.
Pinstripe lawyer: Of course. First, just state your name and your occupation for the record.
Egg Shen: Oh, Egg Shen. Bus driver.
Jack Burton: Mutual Fidelity Insureres of Sacramento... well there's gotta be a listing honey, cause I pay 'um 6 g's a year in premiums.
Uncle Chu: China is here Mr. Burton. The Chang Sing, The Wing Kong, they've been fighting for centuries.
Jack Burton: What the hell does that mean? huh? China is here, I don't even know what the hell that means, all I know is this "Lo Pan" character comes out of thin air in the middle of a goddamn alley while his buddies are flying around on wires cutting everybody to shreds, and he just stands there waiting for me to drive my truck straight through him, with light coming out of his mouth!
Wang Chi: Jack please...
[lightning strikes and Wang becomes silent]
Uncle Chu: WHAT HAPPENED!
Wang Chi: He didnt uncle Chu, not like he says.
Jack Burton: [diverting from his phone call] Sure did uncle Chu, 2 hours ago, Tall guy Weird clothes, first you see him then you don't.
[back to his call]
Jack Burton: yeah, is this just a switch board or something...
Uncle Chu: Lo Pan appeared on the street? Wang Chi why didn't you tell me?
Wang Chi: We didn't want to alarm you uncle.
Jack Burton: [on his phone call] I'm gonna tell you about an accident and I dont want to hear an act of god alright.
[enter Eddie]
Eddie: Good Afternoon Mr. Wong
Wang Chi: Eddie, meet my dear friend Jack Burton. Jack, Eddie is the new maitre'd here at the Black Pool.
Uncle Chu: And a whole lot more.
Jack Burton: [on his phone call] I don't know my policy number, it's in the glove compartment, just look under B.U.R.T.O.N. alright.
Uncle Chu: Jack Burton?
[Jack turns to his name being called]
Uncle Chu: Wow, the guy you always told me about huh? So that was your abandon truck.
Jack Burton: Yeah, abandon like hell.
[to the phone]
Jack Burton: Hey! Hello! Hello! AAHHH Christ.
Eddie: Bad news. The Lords of Death stole it after you ran away.
Jack Burton: They stole my truck?
Wang Chi: It's ok Jack, you're with friend, we'll find it for you.
Jack Burton: You're Goddamn right your gonna help me find it, and my money, and time is money to a guy lik me...
[points to uncle Chu]
Jack Burton: ... and your phone is dead by the way.
Lo Pan: And when I find her, I will marry her...
Wang Chi: Never!
Lo Pan: Ching Dai will be appeased, my curse will be lifted!
Jack Burton: And you can go on to rule the universe from beyond the grave.
Lo Pan: Indeed!
Jack Burton: Or check into a psycho ward, whichever comes first, right?
Wang Chi: Jack, will you...?
Jack Burton: "Jack" what? I'm supposed to buy this shit? 2000 years, he can't find one broad to fit the bill? Come on, Dave, you must be doing something seriously wrong!
Lo Pan: There have been others, to be sure. There are always others. But you know, Mr. Burton, the difficulties between men and women. How seldom it works out? Yet we all keep trying, like fools.
Monday, February 1, 2010
universal love baby
Its a Facebook Status of the moment, but it was too good to pass up and not blog it...
You know, everybody except his sycophants *hated* Jabba the Hut, and, of course, he got taken out by his Bikini Girl. The Pillsbury Dough Boy, OTOH, is universally loved, cuddly and probably has an awesome beach pad with lots of hot (and unarmed) Bikini Girls.
the entourage
It appears that I may have some fans. That are actually going to show up and watch me play tomorrow night. This is way cool. I suppose at the end of my face melting solos I should rip off my sweat soaked tight t-shirt and throw it to the audience of screaming depraved hotties who have had a few too many margaritas, and show 'em my sinewy six-pack.
And if you believe that...
At least the part about playing tomorrow night is, um, true.
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