Music and SQL

Saw and interesting bit over at the Reverse Cowgirl:

Interesting post you wrote about writing and money. I made my living as a writer during those wonderful late 1990 and early 2000 days you mentioned in your first post. 45 cents a word for practically anything I wanted to do. Great time to be doing that, free money and easy work. I also made my rent money as a guitar player for a few years of my life. Obviously I didn't get rich, but I know what it's like to get paid for one's 'art' and to compromise it. It got depressing after a while, but the lifestyle was great and there were still the cool, great gigs I could enjoy. Call it turning tricks or whatever, I just used the phrase, 'You take the king's shilling, you play the king's tune.'

I spent the weekend in NYC doing a two day music workshop where I got to meet one of my musical heroes, and not just meet him but play with him. It was amazing, and reminded me of why I started music in the first place. There were probably 75 other people there, all or nearly all of them many years younger than I. They were almost universally talented, optimistic, and hell bent as making it in music on their own terms. They were the antithesis of the stereotype of the lazy musician, they already had indie labels they started, they were gigging anywhere they could get, and they were sure it was just a matter of time until it was their turn to get on the ride. I wanted to tell them, 'Just so ya know, it ain't gonna happen. That doesn't mean you shouldn't try, because you'll hate yourself if you don't, but just because you think you're choosing failure or death doesn't mean you won't wind up with both.' I wanted to tell them about my most accomplished guitar teacher, a guy I took lessons from when I was about twenty. He was a legitimately well-known jazz player who had seen so much failure, including losing two wives mostly because he refused to give up music as his living, that he actually had come to hate music. Not hate drummers who are late and singers who can't come in on cue and staying in awful motels to make $150 at 2 AM. We all hated that shit, but he hated music itself, for what it had done to him and what it had refused to do for him. I vowed that whenever I got close to that I'd find something else to do so I at least would still love music.

And I did. After washing out of both the music and writing rackets I program databases now. I still make my own music, people still seem to like it on the rare occasion it's heard, and I still write. In fact, I write for a blog run by some of my favorite writers in the world and I do it for free, because I know they're broke and need the money and I don't. So by scything my 'art' off from my money I've kept my art pure, and it's still fun when I do it.

On the other hand, my money is what's impure now. It comes from prostituting my brain to do something 8-12 hours per day that I don't care about. Financial reporting does not speak to my heart, I do not pine for more hours in which I can write SQL code. I use a mind capable of producing decent music and better than decent prose for digital greasemonkey work. So, I guess the moral of the story is that you're fucked either way, there just isn't a lot of purity to go around.

The Happy Rock

"If now and again we encounter pages that explode, pages that wound and sear,
that wring groans and tears and curses, know that they come from a man with his
back up, a man whose only defenses left are his words and his words are always
stronger than the lying, crushing weight of the world, stronger than all the racks
and wheels which the cowardly invent to crush out the miracle of personality."

- H. Valentine Miller

Tip on Obtaining Picture Frames

"Keep an eye out for ugly pics in nice frames at Goodwill yard sales etc. Most peeps dont even consider the frame they price the pic. Also lots of times religious pics go really cheap. Sorry but they do. All except for angels and cherubs."

My Beer-Drenched Soul is Sadder Than All the Dead Christmas Trees in the World

Posted by anonymous underneath a bukowski youtube clip:

"Having read his writing, I pictured him more intellectual and observant, but now I see that he's just a rat, like the rest of them."

Ginn Hits The Coast

Gregg Ginn and the Texas Corrugators put on a show in Los Angeles at the Fais Do Do.

Good show.. the Corrugators had a new member -- guitar player looked to be about 22 yrs old. He was good, but his thing was that he constantly fiddled with the knobs on the guitar, played the strings on the headstock, plink-a-plinked them on the pickups, bent the neck a bit, etc. He also kept ducking over to his amp to fuck with knobs there too.. annoyed the shit out of me to where I couldn't just focus on his playing..

Ginn on bass was cooler than I expected.

The electric mandolin player was a hell of a player. Dude rocked it.

During the intermission between the Corrugators and Jambang, I bought a CD from the opening band and the latest Corrugators disc. $5 each -- and every dime went right into the bands' pockets. Perfect.

Jambang was a little disappointing.. Ginn picked up the guitar and I was expecting quite a treat -- never seen him playing guitar live. Unfortunately, the guitar was so washed out and he played so little lead that it was a bit anti-climactic... The trance-y effect of the jambang sound was cool, but I was a little let down by the wash-out.. his guitar was essentially lost in the mix with the keyboards (played by the new guy) and the sequenced bass emanating from the box of rack-mounted effects he was playing thru.

Still, it was nice to watch then man himself play right in front of me in what was effectively a private show. Literally about 25 people, total, were there by the time Jambang played -- and that included the opening band, Are You a Cop? (who put on a great show to open the evening!)

As they left the stage, I told Ginn, "Great show, man," to which he replied, "Thanks, I appreciate it!"

And I got the feeling that he actually did.

Ponderance

"No man is an island but why are so many flecks of dirt?"

---CB

From Intolerance to Mere Dislike

"I keep a bag of the Jelly Belly mixed jelly beans at my desk at work for a quick candy snack. I usually throw out the black beans because I usually dislike the combination of sugar and anise. Every once in a while I will pop one in my mouth to expand my palate. Through this effort I have moved from intolerance to mere dislike."

- Anonymous Food Freak

Party Time in Party Town

"The hurricane party is
winding down and we're
all waiting for the end.
Hell, I don't want another
drink, I only want that
last one again..."

- J. Mcmurtry

Destruction

"People who don't understand destruction
should be DESTROYED!"

Burn the Flame...

"IF
YOU
LET
THEM
KILL
YOU,
THEY
WILL."

Black Kettles

"Every store in America should have a black kettle filled with hot cracklin waiting for their customers when they walk in the door..."

A Good Night's Musing

" we all die, that's no big trick, but the miracle never quits; therefore we must not until it finally closes in."

- Charles B., from a correspondence


- PiGbOyFaCe

Bean Wars

"I love pintos, black beans look like poo on toilet paper, when spread on a flour tortilla!"

- from a heated debate on a foodie message board regarding the relevance of pinto vs. black beans

The Weirdness

"England and France
Those cultures are old
The cheese is stinky
And the beer ain't cold"

Iggy Pop, Stooges - Free and Freaky in the USA

Curmudgeon

"Take it from me, life's not worth living."

- Louis-Ferdinand Celine', Voyage a bout de la nuit

Pretzel Logic

"As long as the flame of life burns, anything can be rectified."

-- Unknown

Who's "The Man"?

"The price of paradise is stained with blood
Young men die for what?"
--Dennes Dale Boon

One-Percenter

"Women. Old Ladies. Babes. Chicks. Can't live without them, can't use their bones for soup."

--Sonny Barger, Hell's Angel

Politics

"Politics is like trying to screw a cat in the ass."
--Charles Bukowski

Resignation

"A human being must love someone , otherwise he or she goes out like a candle. Well, so I am their victim.” - Isaac Bashevis Singer, Meshugah


- PiGbOyFaCe