The procedure will take place in a few hours so last night the world went all out to fuck with me. It's not clear why it thought that would surprise me but it tried nevertheless.
The first plan for last night was the most basic and is always required: if you are screwed then always show some attitude. For many in Texas, that means to go out and shoot someone but for me it means to do a show.
So I tried that and Cat was pleased as Reis and Aldo are off for the summer anyway so there was a perfectly good gig slot that was obviously looking for some body heat. I wanted a bang to start so that was "Necromancer" ... but he did not bang and Cat reported the volume was low. That made no sense to me as I had sound checked it and it was working ... sputter sputter sputter ... but try it again and continue.
It took a bit to get going as I shouldn't do tunes when I'm just doing them for effect. "The Necromancer" is real as I believe it and I like doing the tune ... but I had been thinking before the set, make it shorter ... the lead goes on too long. I didn't do that but, as Fate with its infinite sense of humor will often do, I would up doing it twice due to trying to fix whatever was wrong the first time.
Then I did "Empire" and that was worthless. This wasn't from some emotional funk as the attitude wasn't something I was faking, I wanted to blow some stuff out ... but ... I even blew a key change and I was fumbling thinking, recover, recover, get on with it ... but my fingers were arguing with my head. The only reason I mention it is that it was so unusual. You make mistakes while you play and that's part of music, those are what teach you not to make mistakes ... but ... blowing the key is different as you know the key, you know the notes ... but your fingers go to the wrong places ... your head hears it is the wrong key but your fingers don't believe it. This has never happened before and I thought you might get a kick out of the weirdness of it.
Laidback Celt was out there and he's one of three conservatives I know who is not an asshole. That means they have one hell of a lot of other conservatives to fix ... but ... that's not my problem ... I'm not a conservative. So Laidback and I talk. He doesn't agree necessarily with what I say but that isn't required and we talk about it. He's a good man and you have to earn it to get into the Lotho category. He plays in SL and he has been doing it for quite a long time so check him out sometime. (Thanks very much for coming, bro. That meant a lot to see you out there.)
I saw Michi Renoir and Janeel, Belethil, Anja, Delphia, Laidback, Roza, Helmut, Karli, Michalis, Paula, Sister Julie, and most of all I saw Cat but I don't know who else was there. Damn tiny little screen! Thank you all!
The show started feeling better as soon as I dumped the back tracks. If you start feeling like you're whipped in a gig, you might as well put the axe down and start telling elephant jokes as that show is over. So it started building and I can't read Chat well but I could see people were enjoying it so it starts becoming a fine display of attitude.
But ...
There had been thunder throughout the show and I knew I should have unplugged but I was damned if I would give up on playing. Unfortunately, playing gave up on me ... KA-BOOM - huge clap of thunder, Second Life crashes, Internet is down. (cough) The End.
This isn't a source of depression but rather it stimulates the idea for a call to Terry Gilliam to ask him, dude, was that really necessary for the story. I love surrealism too but that was fucked-up. I was pissed as Paul was so screwed when he did that Pickle Barrel concert and I admire that shit!
The biggest problem on an Internet drop is letting Cat know that Lockheed Martin didn't explode from whatever hellish things they are making over there (e.g. F-35). After a long period of trying, it was clear the Internet would not be back soon so, in the infinite despair of it all, there's only one thing left: hit the couch and crash.
Fate was not through screwing with me as I slowly brought things back up some time after midnight. That is, I brought up everything except My Duck Soup as the site is down. A ticket has been opened with the ISP but who knows how long it takes. I rarely miss having my tech staff but there are times. Whomever I have on call will answer the phone immediately or we have an office talk in the morning. Same deal with Ron's crew and this was twenty-four hours and seven days. When it's really important to keep computers running, nothing less is acceptable. For bank security reasons I can't show you, even now, what the machine room looked like but I can tell you it was gigantic. You could tuck a two-car garage into a corner of it and never even see it. Between the two of us, there was nothin' we couldn't fix and that's a swell feeling. Unfortunately, it seems kind of an old feeling these days. Four-hour response time ... pfft.
So, um, Great God Mescalito, I see you must have found some cool new reefer but, as I advised Terry Gilliam, this is fucked-up. There are times for Omens such as when you are starting into a romance with someone new and you say, oh, Great Oracle of Love, show me a sign. That's an ok time. Perhaps you are considering a new job and you might inquire of the great Trumpulous of Bluster, Booty & Bullshit how you may fare. That is also an ok time. However, Great God Mescalito, bullshit Omens prior to the hospital do not make an ok time.
I have only one answer, Great God Mescalito: fuck you.
Attitude, it's important.
This may amuse you. I was about to hop off to take a bath and then thought, hmm, screw that. My body has gathered up a happy set of bacteria from wherever the hell it finds bacteria so this is my team, those are the fighters ... why would I wash them off. Uh oh. I just googled it and this is a very bad idea that will get me croaked as fast as an anti-vaxxer. So the bath fills.
In case you're facing this and, judging by all the cigarettes, a good many of you are, they will probe my lung with some device that will remove some or all of the tissue that concerns them. That will go off for biopsy and then on to next steps. One medico said it might not be cancer. I didn't say anything but I thought, yah, maybe it's a winning Lotto ticket, what do you think. I'm not fatalistic about it but I'm not going to bullshit myself either. Just get it the fuck out of there and then we'll see what goes. I'm not particularly concerned about the surgery as pain I can handle but the following treatment nauseates you and makes you sick. That I don't handle well at all. It's likely I will stay pretty far out of reach in that circumstance as the only thing that makes a situation like that worse is feeling like you have to entertain someone.
As to tracking what comes, @yevetteN on Twitter will know but she won't Tweet anything before Cat knows. They will connect via Skype but please don't try to make a Skype connection with either of them unless you ask first. If you follow @yevetteN then you will know almost as soon as Cat. I'm not assuming the worst but rather I am covering possibilities. My assumption is that I will send any update myself. If that is not possible for whatever reason, @yevetteN is how you will know. It would not be a good vibe for the Circus if Cat were posting medical updates on Facebook and I wouldn't want to put that on her anyway.
The first plan for last night was the most basic and is always required: if you are screwed then always show some attitude. For many in Texas, that means to go out and shoot someone but for me it means to do a show.
So I tried that and Cat was pleased as Reis and Aldo are off for the summer anyway so there was a perfectly good gig slot that was obviously looking for some body heat. I wanted a bang to start so that was "Necromancer" ... but he did not bang and Cat reported the volume was low. That made no sense to me as I had sound checked it and it was working ... sputter sputter sputter ... but try it again and continue.
It took a bit to get going as I shouldn't do tunes when I'm just doing them for effect. "The Necromancer" is real as I believe it and I like doing the tune ... but I had been thinking before the set, make it shorter ... the lead goes on too long. I didn't do that but, as Fate with its infinite sense of humor will often do, I would up doing it twice due to trying to fix whatever was wrong the first time.
Then I did "Empire" and that was worthless. This wasn't from some emotional funk as the attitude wasn't something I was faking, I wanted to blow some stuff out ... but ... I even blew a key change and I was fumbling thinking, recover, recover, get on with it ... but my fingers were arguing with my head. The only reason I mention it is that it was so unusual. You make mistakes while you play and that's part of music, those are what teach you not to make mistakes ... but ... blowing the key is different as you know the key, you know the notes ... but your fingers go to the wrong places ... your head hears it is the wrong key but your fingers don't believe it. This has never happened before and I thought you might get a kick out of the weirdness of it.
Laidback Celt was out there and he's one of three conservatives I know who is not an asshole. That means they have one hell of a lot of other conservatives to fix ... but ... that's not my problem ... I'm not a conservative. So Laidback and I talk. He doesn't agree necessarily with what I say but that isn't required and we talk about it. He's a good man and you have to earn it to get into the Lotho category. He plays in SL and he has been doing it for quite a long time so check him out sometime. (Thanks very much for coming, bro. That meant a lot to see you out there.)
I saw Michi Renoir and Janeel, Belethil, Anja, Delphia, Laidback, Roza, Helmut, Karli, Michalis, Paula, Sister Julie, and most of all I saw Cat but I don't know who else was there. Damn tiny little screen! Thank you all!
The show started feeling better as soon as I dumped the back tracks. If you start feeling like you're whipped in a gig, you might as well put the axe down and start telling elephant jokes as that show is over. So it started building and I can't read Chat well but I could see people were enjoying it so it starts becoming a fine display of attitude.
But ...
There had been thunder throughout the show and I knew I should have unplugged but I was damned if I would give up on playing. Unfortunately, playing gave up on me ... KA-BOOM - huge clap of thunder, Second Life crashes, Internet is down. (cough) The End.
This isn't a source of depression but rather it stimulates the idea for a call to Terry Gilliam to ask him, dude, was that really necessary for the story. I love surrealism too but that was fucked-up. I was pissed as Paul was so screwed when he did that Pickle Barrel concert and I admire that shit!
The biggest problem on an Internet drop is letting Cat know that Lockheed Martin didn't explode from whatever hellish things they are making over there (e.g. F-35). After a long period of trying, it was clear the Internet would not be back soon so, in the infinite despair of it all, there's only one thing left: hit the couch and crash.
Fate was not through screwing with me as I slowly brought things back up some time after midnight. That is, I brought up everything except My Duck Soup as the site is down. A ticket has been opened with the ISP but who knows how long it takes. I rarely miss having my tech staff but there are times. Whomever I have on call will answer the phone immediately or we have an office talk in the morning. Same deal with Ron's crew and this was twenty-four hours and seven days. When it's really important to keep computers running, nothing less is acceptable. For bank security reasons I can't show you, even now, what the machine room looked like but I can tell you it was gigantic. You could tuck a two-car garage into a corner of it and never even see it. Between the two of us, there was nothin' we couldn't fix and that's a swell feeling. Unfortunately, it seems kind of an old feeling these days. Four-hour response time ... pfft.
So, um, Great God Mescalito, I see you must have found some cool new reefer but, as I advised Terry Gilliam, this is fucked-up. There are times for Omens such as when you are starting into a romance with someone new and you say, oh, Great Oracle of Love, show me a sign. That's an ok time. Perhaps you are considering a new job and you might inquire of the great Trumpulous of Bluster, Booty & Bullshit how you may fare. That is also an ok time. However, Great God Mescalito, bullshit Omens prior to the hospital do not make an ok time.
I have only one answer, Great God Mescalito: fuck you.
Attitude, it's important.
This may amuse you. I was about to hop off to take a bath and then thought, hmm, screw that. My body has gathered up a happy set of bacteria from wherever the hell it finds bacteria so this is my team, those are the fighters ... why would I wash them off. Uh oh. I just googled it and this is a very bad idea that will get me croaked as fast as an anti-vaxxer. So the bath fills.
In case you're facing this and, judging by all the cigarettes, a good many of you are, they will probe my lung with some device that will remove some or all of the tissue that concerns them. That will go off for biopsy and then on to next steps. One medico said it might not be cancer. I didn't say anything but I thought, yah, maybe it's a winning Lotto ticket, what do you think. I'm not fatalistic about it but I'm not going to bullshit myself either. Just get it the fuck out of there and then we'll see what goes. I'm not particularly concerned about the surgery as pain I can handle but the following treatment nauseates you and makes you sick. That I don't handle well at all. It's likely I will stay pretty far out of reach in that circumstance as the only thing that makes a situation like that worse is feeling like you have to entertain someone.
As to tracking what comes, @yevetteN on Twitter will know but she won't Tweet anything before Cat knows. They will connect via Skype but please don't try to make a Skype connection with either of them unless you ask first. If you follow @yevetteN then you will know almost as soon as Cat. I'm not assuming the worst but rather I am covering possibilities. My assumption is that I will send any update myself. If that is not possible for whatever reason, @yevetteN is how you will know. It would not be a good vibe for the Circus if Cat were posting medical updates on Facebook and I wouldn't want to put that on her anyway.
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