A poem
Category: Dreams and the Supernatural

In the night a dreamer comes
Sees, and bees, and then becomes
The man to whom The Night will bow
Though She do it with a scowl
Pissed at being so usurped
The dreamers dreams are like a Burp.

But bow she does, and with good cause
The Dreamers Dreams are like sharp claws
Rending, tearing, making new
All his Wishes coming true
For this man won't be denied
He and Night are side by side
Making more of what was less
Despite Her coy and false duress.

So give wide berth and woe betide
The Fate that struggles to misguide
The Dreamer's will to make in life
What up to now has been but strife.

For He will make what 'er before
Was but the smoke of semaphore
And create: though She may rue-
What He desires, She desires, too.

And Night then Feels that true desire
Once denied, is now A Pyre
And as She yields to consuming Fire
The Dreamer smiles, and takes her Higher.

5:32 PM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Rainy Weather, The Blahs, and the Personal Ghosts of Autumn
Current mood: blah
Category: Dreams and the Supernatural

All the rainy weather of late got you in the dumps?

Me too.

We've had an unusual summer. Lots of sunshine and very little rain. Great for being out and about; we're all diurnal (daytime) creatures after all, and the sunlight is good for us. Makes us feel happier.

And that's the problem. All this rain of late, and the ever reducing hours of daytime that occur as we head into winter,  has reduced the amount of available sunlight. That programs the brain into "slow, contemplative mode." Unfortunately, modern men and women aren't much for looking within and meditating on what we find. Western civilization is founded on looking out rather than in. Focusing on the world rather than oneself. So we repress the instinct to look inside ourselves and sweep the crap out of our personal darkness. But, at the same time, our emotions revolt at repression, so we get the blahs.

And here lately we've been given a big break from having to deal with this condition. These blahs. It's been so sunny and dry for so long we've forgotten how to deal with those periods when the world asks us to slow down and take stock. To relax and relate to ourselves more deeply. To embrace the boogeymen of our dreams so we can realize they aren't monsters. To notice those phantoms are just sad, lonely parts of ourselves we have rejected. If we could just slow down and turn around, see them for what they are, embrace those false spooks and tell them they're loved, accepted, they'd dissolve into a joyous kind of renewed strength and energy. Those scary things in our subconscious could become ways to become stronger, better people.

But doing all that looking within is not easy. Our minds tell us to keep all that creepy crap at bay. So we do.

And we get the blahs.

Yet, the desire to turn within is especially strong right now. The veil between the worlds is thinnest in October and November. The season of Samhain (pronounced Sow-ehn). This is where the concept of Halloween comes from. That means right now it's easier to sense our dark half than any other time of year. And no, "dark" doesn't mean frightening or wrong, just hidden. At this season of the year, the things we keep hidden from ourselves and others strain to come into the light. This is the time of year we are motivated to heal ourselves by processing the parts of ourselves we most want to deny.

But we refuse, and get the blahs.

What's all this mean?

It means:

We're at maximum BLAH potential right now.

So what do we do about it?

Well, the shrinks call this Seasonal Affective Disorder. They recommend that you spend more time in the sunlight. Go for a long walk, take your glasses off (they block UV rays) and let your eyes soak up more sunshine.

They say get more physical exercise. Listen to music that makes you feel good. Do something that makes you feel productive like clean out the garage or repaint the den.

Find someone you love and spend time with them. Intimate time. Spend time talking about how run down and unhappy you feel. Take them on your walk in the sunlight and hold their hand (you'll need someone to hold your hand if you go for a walk without your glasses and are as blind as I). Go out and socialize in general. We're pack animals by nature and we have a deeply programmed need to be around other people

The shrinks also say to eat well, get proper rest and spend time relaxing. Maybe indulge a hobby you enjoy. Take a long bath. Make love to someone you feel good about. Anything that reduces your stress.

Take a trip. Go someplace sunny for a day or two. A change of scenery is always useful to a troubled mind.

And the psychologists aren't wrong. All the stuff I just mentioned WILL make you feel better.

But aren't we missing an opportunity? A rare chance to heal deep divisions within ourselves and become more whole? Could we be missing the point by continuing to run from the things we think are wrong with us? After all, the universe wants to help us heal ourselves this time of year. It's why the ancients celebrated this season of the year. The time of Samhain was when  the parts of ourselves that were no longer helpful, but still active, could most easily be purged. It's why Halloween is so concerned with the undead. It's a metaphor for psychological aspects of ourselves that no longer are useful. Old beliefs or ways of behaving that no longer have a purpose, but which we keep alive anyway. The zombies lurking in the shadows of our souls.

So I'll go the head shrinkers one better. Use this time to peek into yourself a little. To look a bit at the things that are holding you down.

First, note whenever something or someone makes you mad or uncomfortable. This is a sure sign of something about yourself you're unhappy with. Something about yourself you are keeping in the dark. Make a list of those things. A "personal spook" sheet.

Buy yourself a meditation CD. Make sure it's one that uses binaural beat or hemisync technology. These amazing recordings will put you in a deeply meditative state. Each time you listen, choose something on your spook sheet and think about it. Do this until it no longer bothers you. Then move on to the next item on your list.

When you go to bed, ask yourself to dream about one particular item on your list. Ask yourself to remember the dream. Keep a pad by your bed and write the dream down first thing the next morning. Look at the dream you wrote down when you are relaxing and think about what it might mean. Just thinking about it will make the issue conscious and help to heal it. You don't have to figure out what the dream means. Just wonder about what it means.

If you find an issue on your "spook sheet" that is particularly hard to deal with, sit down and write three pages in long hand about it. Doesn't matter WHAT you write. The point is just to let the ideas and thoughts flow onto the page, whatever they are. Jot down whatever comes into your head. This is powerful stuff.

If you're still a bit uneasy or sensitive about what you've discovered about yourself, go share it with someone you love and trust. Be brave. And start small. This is scary. And it's scary for a reason. It's powerful medicine. And it will change you for the better. But we tend to dislike change, even for the better. That's why we get scared. But sharing yourself deeply with someone you love and trust not only heals, it deepens your mutual bond. Makes you closer. More real to one another. And it is the most effective way of turning your personal spooks into your personal power. The most effective way to dissolve your personal phantoms is in the sunshine of another's love. Shakespeare said ,"Love conquers all." And it does.

So give it a try. Beats feeling mopey and lonely on a rainy day. Or all through the dark winter months.

And it just might transform you into the amazing person you secretly know yourself to be.

What could be better?

Think I'll go for a walk now, myself. Wanna come?

Let's hold hands.

Currently listening : The Very Best Of Nat King Cole By Nat King Cole Release date: 02 May, 2006

12:29 PM - 7 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

Advice from the mirror

A good friend sent me a note the other day expressing a general dissapointment with humanity. It was also mentioned how difficult romance could be.

As is often the case, the advice I sent back wound up being a reflection of thoughts I've had about my own shortcomings.

Here it is:



What nonsense. There's nothing wrong with the species. Jealousy is natural among all but those who are content. And people don't go to bars because they're content.

You seem like a kind, gentle man. Are you not? Are you perhaps a bit selfish? I know my altruistic nature is not as developed as I'd like. Selfishness leads to loneliness. We can keep others at too great a distance to love and be loved when we are not sufficiently giving.

"Martin Chuzzlewit" one of Dickens' books, is a study in selfishness. Old Martin, at the end has learned better, become more open and loving, and gives this warning to those selfish relatives around him:

"There is a kind of selfishness, said Martin: I have learned it in my own experience of my own breast: which is constantly upon the watch for selfishness in others; and holding others at a distance, by suspicions and distrusts, wonders why they don't approach, and don't confide, and calls that selfishness in them."

I find myself wondering occasionally why such a handsome, gentle man as yourself isn't married and content. You seem like a catch. Could it be that your heart is too closed to let someone in? That you cannot believe in another sufficiently to let that be enough?

Great love requires both trust and discipline. And while it can be argued that a young man finds it difficult to be true, biology and hormones being what they are, a man of sufficient years to have calmer blood has no excuses. A man beyond the age of 35 has a mind no longer controlled purely by biological imperative. He is sufficiently able to make choices based on more than a need to reproduce. So it can't be just the need to sew seed. Not at our age.

We therefore have what we need to make a long-term relationship work. It is simply a matter of changing old habits (such as, "I play the field because I can") and realizing that, if we want something more than what we've had, we must be willing to give more than we are now.

That can be hard to do. the mind develops grooves of thought that can seem difficult to break. I have started to read books on the subject, try to practice random acts of kindness, and watch for kindly, altruistic people in an effort to both emulate their behavior and find a mentor.

Abundance does not come to a mind not prepared to receive it. And it seems to me that the way to prepare is to realize you have much more to give. That giving without expectation or hope of reward eases the heart and convinces the mind that abundance does exist. And, by making said realization, one must go out and be solely at the service of others; self must become a permanent secondary consideration. Love must become an export business.

In this way lies not only contentment, but the love we feel shorted. Or so I believe.

Currently listening : Self Portrait By Artie Shaw Release date: 23 October, 2001

2:17 AM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

A gift from a Friend

Maria wrote this for my birthday. Loved it so much I had to share.

On Dennis Day

June tenth. The early sunlight's play
Pulls you from your bed today.
Little knowing what's in store,
You go to open your front door
In robe and slippers, mug in hand,
To fetch the paper – why, My Land!

Today the rosy-fingered dawn
Illuminates a changéd lawn
As you step out onto a mound
Of petals strewn along the ground.
(Maenads worked 'til early morn,
Pruning every tiny thorn.)

The trail leads to your golden chaise
Where Graces lose a little grace
As they jostle for a site
Nearer the Moon of their Delight.
You settle on the cushioned chair
Four glossy porters soon will bear.

They'll carry you in pomp and state
To an Elysian birthday fete
With courses long, but speeches short
(To leave sufficient time for sport).
The smooth and slender Ganymede,
Attendant on your every need,
Keeps your sparkling chalice filled
With Gallic vintage dry and chilled.

Ahead, along your royal route,
Heralds honk and subjects shout,
"All hail! Our Hero's on his way
To celebrate his natal day!"
The bells will ring, the horns will toot
As you take the air in your birthday suit.

And when the sun begins to sink,
You'll return refreshed, if a trifle pink
And pleasantly tired, from Olympus above,
Laden with shoals of Birthday Love.

2:12 PM - 2 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

This advice tastes like chicken (and could use more sage)

A myspace friend sent out a message concerning how they felt as though they weren't really being understood in a meaningfiul way. As a person.

It touched me, so I sent back some advice.

Here it is:


 

By sending this out, it's seems you're trying to change those around you. The Buddhist philosophy says this isn't possible. They say change is entirely personal. We can only change from within. Therefore trying to upgrade your current friends isn't practical. They must need to change.

At the same time, your bulletin touches others, ones you don't know, who understand what you mean. There are many of us out here who know what it is to under appreciate and be under appreciated. We've learned to see more deeply, both into ourselves and others.

The question then becomes, are you really ready for something more complex? Ready to delve deeply into others? It can't be a one way street. If you want to be known, you must take enough interest in others to truly know them.

I was an agent for years. I know from experience how difficult it can be for unusually attractive people to make the deeper connections with others necessary for a fulfilling life. I used to council them to act blindly, to listen to others rather than see them. It was my experience that models and actors tended to be drawn almost exclusively to their own kind, looks wise. In the process they missed more complex people who would appreciate them more. That's why I counseled listening over seeing. Instinct over the media induced training of what sort of people are "right". I tried to get them away from the automatic, "people like us", thinking.

Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. As I say change must come from within. Any outside influence is, at best, a signpost saying "head this way."

But, those that learned to appreciate others for who they were rather than how they looked were rewarded in kind.

So that's my advice. If you want to be noticed for who you are rather than how you look, go do that for others.

Like love, the more you give away the more you get back.

4:04 PM - 3 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

5 Records That Changed My Life

Klaatu: 3:47 EST- This group amazed me in high school and continues to amaze me to this day. A studio group from Canada, they were so inventive and upbeat that for a while it was rumored they were the Beatles, masquerading as this new group.Tenderhooks sometimes reminds me of this group. I love all 4 of Klaatu's albums, particularly the first two. 3:47 EST was the first. Introduced to me by a friend when I was 15.



K-Tel's Goofy Greats- a Compilation album from the Early 1970's. Full of Novelty tunes from the last few decades.Ones like "Gitarzan", "Little Green Bag" and "Chewy Chewy". The stuff wasn't just funny, there was a lot of whacked out psychedelia here. I think it was given to me when I was 7. Expanded my mind, man.



Glenn Miller: 20 Greatest Hits (sorry, no album cover available)- One of hundreds of re-issue albums of the quintessential swing era great. While not the king of swing ( I reserve that title for Cab Calloway), it never the less introduced me both to the roots of modern pop and jazz. Think I was 14 when I bought this.



Isao Tommita: Firebird- This man made classical music accessible to me. A true genius of electronica, these classical pieces came to life for me for the first time on this album. Haunting, powerful, funny. And all with electronic instruments. In 1976. My love of both classical music and heavily electronic 80's alternative comes from this one album. Purchased when I was 16.



Nat King Cole ( A Reader's Digest Compilation of his work. Can't remember the title, much less find a picture of it)- My parent's had a 6 album set of Nat King Cole's work when I was a kid. I often pulled it off the shelf in their bedroom to listen. I learned to sing listening to the man. Any time someone compliments my singing, I thank Nat. The smoothest and most resonant of the male standards singers. I can't get enough of standards now. They're more complex than most pop, from a singer's standpoint. And they have more emotional depth, lyrically. Started listening to these albums when I was about 10. Began singing to them when I was about 14.

12:26 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Sensual Massage Tips

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Body:	1. What is a question that people ask you that always gets on your nerves? "Where are my panties/boxers?" Followed by, "Can I stay?" 2. Name something you have in common with all your sibling(s): cunning like Machiavelli, charm like Disraeli, charisma like Svengali, humility like Buddha 3. What is the greatest amount of physical pain you have ever endured? Nerve conduction tests. Remember the needles in the arms with electricity in "The Right Stuff"? Turns me on just thinking about it. Pardon the pun. 4. What number of drinks constitutes your limit? When my cousin looks doable. 5. Do you fold your underwear? With the autographs facing up, yes. 6. Who is the last person you wrote a letter to on paper? One of my fan clubs. The one in Bohemia, I think. 7. Have you fired a gun before? Fired, then hired, then fired again. He was sloppy. 8. Name someone you consider a genius. Ron Jeremy 9. What was your favorite childhood toy? The laboratory in my Grandfather's basement. 10. Name a sound that disturbs you Whining when they're in the inversion boots. 11. Name something random that you would never do. Stop flirting. 12. Name a person whose diary you would love to read. Mad Ludwig 13. Have you ever had the same dream more than once? No. Well, not technically. The Pope always appears in a different dress when he asks me to marry him. 14. Name a song that makes you happy. I Like Big Butts 15. Name something that made you laugh this week. When my cousin fell off the wagon and told everyone he was Jesus. The magic tricks were great, so we didn't correct him. A "needed the eggs" sort of thing. 16. If you were in an emergency situation and you had to deliver a baby, could you do it? I'd just call Domino's. 17. What do you like about being in a committed relationship? Jealousy, fighting, tears, angry sex. 18. What do you dislike about being in a committed relationship? Walks in the park, kissing in the rain, playing with puppies. 19. If you were famous, what would you be famous for? List exceeds myspace storage capacity 20. Name something you dislike about your mother? She's been a terrible housekeeper the last four years. And her cooking has been nonexistent. Gonna have to go out to the cemetery and bitch her ass out. 21. Name something you dislike about your father. When he was cremated, he asked for his ashes to be buried in the tacky cardboard box that they were shipped in. He always had the worst taste. 22. What is on your refrigerator door?: The three theatre rules. The 41 laws of power. The 21 commandments of world domination. A picture of me playing with puppies. 23. Name the closest thing to you that is green. One of my stun guns. From the new Oprah Winfrey Designer Collection. "Incapacitate in Style" it says on the box. Oprah looks fierce. Eek. Gotta throw this box away. 25. Name something you have to do tomorrow. Put a restraining order on Kissinger. He's stalking me again. He hates that I don't talk to him at the Bilderberger meetings anymore. Sentimental sap. 26. Name a movie you are looking forward to watching? "Hairy Palmer and the Sorcerer's Bone" 27. Have you ever called 911? Only to flirt. 28. If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be? Less libido, more bandito 29. If you could be anyone in the world who would it be? Dr. Phil's executioner 30. Favorite game? Will it fit 31. Name something dangerous you'd like to do Flirt with bikers in front of their girlfriends. 32. If you could bring someone back from the dead and interview them, who would it be? Casanova and DeSade. I have a few questions concerning feasibility and scar reduction... 33. What makes you happy? big bubble butts, vivisection, front closing bras, drunk muscle boys, taxidermy, retarded kids when they embarrass the straights, long legs in high heels, my unlicensed particle accelerator, shaven and well muscled thighs, discussing Sartre with used car salesman, long hair meticulously groomed, the "World Domination Page a Day Calendar", playing with puppies

12:05 AM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Reality, Check Please
Current mood: lonely

I've been musing of late.

I know, I know. I'm ALWAYS musing.

This is different. It has a certain coherence to which I'm unaccustomed.

It's this:

Much of my life is spent in the daydream world. My mental adventures are exciting. Riveting. Orgasmic. Content. The scope and depth amazes me sometimes.

But almost none of it exists. When one of my dreams does manifest in reality, it's usually while connected to the god. The particular god of creation. The quiet one that comes through at moments when the mind is absent. For example,  a while back I was playing one of the leads in the musical "Bye, Bye Birdy", I was having trouble getting a line to work. I daydreamed doing a noise that sounded like the eerie organ theme from the old radio show, "The Shadow." I was able to do it on stage just as I imagined. It worked. Huge laugh. So when it comes to art, my daydreams can made manifest.

But not so it seems, in the rest of life. The life that deals more with things like work, love, friendship, community, home and the rest.

Work is disjointed. Not really what I ever imagine. It's good some days, entirely without merit some days, and just a way to spend the day on others. Nothing like my dreams.

Love. Here's the rub. If I can reach a point of intimacy, true deep intimacy, the god comes to the rescue. My mind steps aside and the soul takes over. Glorious. But I'm sceptical and guarded by nature in matters of love, usually contenting myself with friction and mutual satisfaction. No god in that. It's also rare to meet someone who inspires real love. Most of it is just longing for companionship and a break from the rigors of the rest of life.

As to friendship, it's my anchor. What keeps things going. But the same thing occurs. Reaching a point where it's not negotiated, where we are both content simply to let our connection simply exist, is rare. The god doesn't seem to care for friendship.

And the rest is the same. The lying , survival oriented mind is constantly in the way. Keeping my fantasies from fruition. Insisting things be a certain way. The small voice shouted down by commands to follow duty, propriety and convention.

I suspect there is a better way. Some way to engage the god all the time. To be an engine of creation. A way to bring the daydreamer's great constructs into the present. Into this waking illusion we mistake as real.

How?

Fuck if I know.

The answer lingers just outside my grasp, the god giggling as he moves the answer aside every time I look.

Mind and soul at war.

Film at 11.

Currently listening : Nat King Cole - The Greatest Hits [Capitol] By Nat King Cole Release date: 18 October, 1994

8:47 AM - 5 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

2006 RIP

It's been an extraordinary year.

The year started on a sour phrase that seemed as though it would never resolve to a major chord. I was working as the doorman at 4620 as it shuffleded it's way toward the abyss. Lot's of drunk coeds with no decorum. Lot's of my best "Father Knows Best" stern aura of command to keep them all in line. But to what end? They were a bunch of media-narcotized, pill popping, coke sniffing, wastrels lost in a sea of confusion. They still are.

But I got out. Quit for many reasons. Chief being I could no longer stand to see good ideas (4620 had good ideas) drowned by a redneck like so many kittens in a rainbarrel..

Then panic set in. No money. No prospects. Just lots of charm and enough Charisma to keep me in the "in" crowd. Like that's of value.

But I had friends. And I always seemed to find some young person who was both lovely enough and lonely enough for me to do some good. And for them to do me some good. Remind me I was still alive. Still Valuable. Still of use to others. Lots of late nights, tears, and pleasure.

And I got some distance. Got to see a little better who I was. And eventually found a job that fit who I was, rather than what  I thought I needed.

That was in May. Suddenly I had money again. More than I had ever had. And free time. And confidence. And contentment. Even with a corporate job. The phrase "on one's own terms" springs to mind.

Suddenly, the people who came into my life were no longer the needy wastrels of yore. They were now more complex. More in tune. Just as lost, but more willing to connect. In the deep, visceral way that leads to true bonds.

So I began to make some new friends. True friends. The kind that only really respond to truth. The kind that ignore the chit-chat and the social niceties. Ahh.

I hate cocktail conversation.

And it just continues. I find more and more of the relevant in what is billed an irrelevant world. More beauty. More passion. More vitality.

And all this in a culture that sees itself as ir·revo·ca·bly damaged. Maybe that's what's wrong. Perhaps we aren't damaged at all.

Maybe, jut maybe, we're all fine.

And all this thought of being "on the outside looking in", to borrow a phrase from Boingo, is just a lie the brain tells. One born of a survival mechanism that already has everything it needs to survive. A lie of the mind.

Maybe that's why the old faiths (Hinduism, Shintoism, etc) developed meditation. As a way past the lies of the brain and into the truth speaking quietly in the body. They were the first modern civilizations, after all. The first to get past the need to merely survive.

Perhaps that's where the truth lies. Not on TV, or in the mind, but in the body. In the ancient brain. In the Entreric Nervous System. The source of knowledge that is only touched and understood in meditation. The truth of the heart.

I've often said, "The mind lies, the body doesn't".

Think I'll go meditate.

8:50 PM - 6 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

A musician's lot is not a happy one
Category: Music

Last Friday I appeared with Christabel and the Jons and Tommy Batememan and the Thunder Thieves at Preservation Pub.

The whole idea was to present the bands ala an old radio show. So I wrote some intros, commercials, station IDs, etc.

We were all dressing up. I put on my new tuxedo and headed down to the pub around 9pm.

We had a good guy doing sound. I had brought in my genuine 1950's era Shure 55SW mike to give the sound an authentic air. The sound guy fussed around and got us all connected. Then went through the painstaking process of getting all the sound balanced and properly amped. It took a while.

The pub was busy. Lots of people with the Christmas doledrums looking for a place to have a good time I guess.

Some friends of mine showed up. I spent a while gabbing while  the sound got working. But I was a bit distracted. I'd never done a show off the cuff like this, and was nervous. So I kept looking at my radio scripts and trying to calm down. And neglecting my friends. Hope they understood.

When It came time to start, I walked from my place at the bar up to the mike and said:

"{INTRO}


When you hear the tone, it will be time for another drink.

(sound)

You are listening to the Fair to Middlin Radio Arts Network.

(music begins)

And now live from Preservation Pub in  Knoxville, TN, the Fair to Middlin Radio Arts Network proudly presents:

Christa-mass! Starring Christabel and the Jons!"

The drink gag got a fair laugh. An the band's intro got them a good round of applause.

I stepped off the stage and went baack to my spot at the bar. Started looking at the first ad I was going to read. The place was jam packed by then. Had trouble just getting back to my seat. And, despite how well the intro had gone, and how well the band was doing, most people were just standing around talking at the top of their lungs. Paying no attention whatsoever. Sigh.

The band had learned all new tunes, all Christmas ones, for this show. They  played them really well. They played a few. Then it was time for me to do the first ad. I Bullied my way through the crowd, stepped up to my mike and said:

"And now for a word from our sponsor.


During this  festive holiday season, the Christmas blahs can get you down. But not with a Nutty as a fruitcake Fruitcake. Nutty as a Fruitcake uses the most wholesome natural and pharmaceutical ingredients for a fruitcake that is as uplifting as it is nutritious. Try Our Blue Christmas fruitcake. Made with the best aphrodisiacs on the market, and sure to arouse the true spirit of the season in any man (girlfriend not included). Or pick up a Mocha Marble Morphine fruitcake, sure to get you as relaxed as Bela Lugosi after a hard day. (Detox clinic not included) Or try our all new Ganja Brick fruitcake in a lovely holiday green. One bite and you'll relax right into the holiday spirit (cartoons not included).


Nutty as a fruitcake. If you're not eating our fruitcake, you're… INSANE."

It got some laughs. And a round of applause. That was nice, but still, it was frustrating doing these funny things in a funny way (I do a pretty good period announcer voice) and to look out and see most of the bar paying no attention whatsoever. It occurred to me then that actors are lucky. We perform in a space where the crowd making noise or not paying attention is considered wrong. Makes it easy. Bars are the opposite. They are social places. Places of interaction. A band is simply background music. I began to understand how hard it must be to practise for weeks or months with a band and then have people ignore all your work.

As I headed back to my seat again, though. Something interesting happened. People began coming up to me and telling me how great the show and  I were. I  noticed after I sat back down that some of these people were coming from way back in the bar, fighting the throng to tell me this. And they were hitting on me. Big time. Men and women, fair and foul. Hmm.

After a few more well played songs from Christa and the boys, I walked up and read this one:

"More of our Holiday special from the fair to middlin radio arts network, right after this.

Billy was a kind and sensitive young man. He worked as an office boy at the big law firm on the main street. He had always had trouble with girls, and was far more content making macramé and preparing fine quisine. At the office Christmas party, Billy was feeling good. He'd had a few glasses of holiday cheer when the commanding and strangely hypnotic Mr. Madison led him into the broom closet. But what happened in the closet was more than Billy bargained for. Billy should have used Homo NoMo. Homo Nomo is made with essence of sporting event, a scent sure to make a man of anyone who wears it. Homo NoMo fills the mind with manly thoughts. Thoughts like beer, football, and the softness of women. Homo Nomo. It's what sensitive boys need to become… men."

By this point the laughs were only really coming from a clot of people standing right in front of the bandstand. I was beginning to feel like all the work I'd put into these ads was a waste of time. But there was still applause after each ad, and lots of back slapping as I walked back to the bar.

A word now on the nature of these fake ads.

A few weeks earlier we'd been throwing around ideas about what I'd be doing for the show. Christa and the guys suggested things like ads for old Christmas toys. And I suggested a skit. Christa said it should be raunchy, since this is a bar crowd.

When I got home and sarted thinking about it though, I decided a skit was a bad idea. We wouldn't have much time  to rehearse. And the ads for existing products seemed like a creative dead end.

That's when I came up with the idea of using the old style format of radio ads read by an announcer with thinly-veiled dirty products, all of them ficticious, of course. I laughed a lot writing them; the bands laughed quite a bit when I read them at a rehearsal just a few days before we did the show.

But  that night, the farther we got into the show, the less the crowd seemed to notice.

I got back up to read the "Yes, Virginia There is a Santa Claus" article over the band doing "Holly Jolly Christmas". It went nicely and there was even some applause still, which surprised me.

Then I did this ad:

"Suzy had a problem. She liked Billy, especially the way he smelled. But something was…well…missing. She never felt quite… satisfied. Then a girlfriend told her about Sam Smutman's House of Marital Machines. At Sam Smutman's House of Marital Machines Suzy found the answer to her problems. Billy might be cute, but the marital machine from Sam Smutman's satisfied her in a way Billy never could. She now felt happy. Relaxed. She felt warm and content. Her nights with Sam's machine allowed her to face her days with REAL satisfaction. Sam Smutman's House of Marital Machines. Providing the bliss no man can live up to."

A few more well played tunes and it was time to take a break and allow the other band to set up.

I said:

{Act Break}


"We will return to more of Christa-mass, starring Tommy Bateman and the thunder thieves, right after this brief but inebriating intermission."

It took about 40 minutes for Tommy's band to get all set up. During the break I relaxed (I'd been high strung all during the first half. Worried I'd screw something up. Worried about what came next, etc.) Had another glass of wine and just sat at the bar. But people kept coming up. All through the break. Telling me what fun it was, how much they were enjoying, on and on. And, no joke, flirting and just downright calling me out (in the amourous sense). I exxplained at least 3 separate times that I still had more show to do. Every time they said they'd wait.

Decided then and there: who cared if anyone listened or not? Actors never get hit on to this extent. the idea that I needed a band of my own was looking more and more like a good one.

I kept telling people I was waiting for someone. It wasn't that these people who were so forward weren't my type. I really was waiting for someone. A person I met long ago and have recently become interested in. In fact, that's where some of my nervousness came from. I was both nervous that this person would and Wouldn't show. I don't often take more than the most casual interest in others, guess that's why I was so antsy.

When the seond half began, I introduced it this way:

{Intro  2}


"We now return you to our regular program, already in alcoholic progression.

Welcome back to Christa-mass here on the Fair to Middlin Radio Arts Network."

(music begins)

"And Now, live from the Preservation Pub on Market Square in Beautiful downtown Knoxille,  the soothing holiday sounds of Tommy Batemen and the Thunder thieves."

Tommy's band is mostly brass. they played this fanfare just before the "and now, live" bit. It sounded very period, which  tickled me.

They played a few tunes and I did my most clever ad, turn-of-phrase wise.

The boys who run the band are named Bateman:

"We'll be back with more Christmas music, right after this message.

Are you lonely? Do you find yourself staring wistfully at the underwear ads in the Sear's Catalogue? Driving past the high school just as class is adjourning? Well then, your prayers have been answered. Just make a visit to Jailbateman's Escorts and discover the real reason for giving (as well as receiving). Jailbatemen's escorts provides comfort and solace on those lonely winter nights, giving you unbridled joy at popular prices. Ask about "the around the world" special for only 2.95. Or content yourself with a quickly tossed salad and a sailor's hornpipe for just 75 cents. Jailbatemans Escorts, in the third stall of the bus station during convenient evening hours. Jailbateman's. If you've got the scratch, we've got the itch."

Heeheehee.

Very few paying any real attention for the second half. Which was a shame. The boys had worked hard. I read "The Little Matchstick Girl" over a pretty version of Tommy and the boys playing "Silent Night". Thought no one had heard it at all (I apparently got a bit far from the mike), but this guy came up after and said he loved it. Made him tear up. Wow.

I was really miffed by the indifference of the crowd by the time the next ad was due. So I read this one:

"Our show will return after the following.

Men, are you alone? Do you sit home nights wondering where that special girl might be? Well wonder no longer! Go out today and get yourself some HypnoRaal.  Yes, with HypnoRaal you'll be in the arms of a beautiful girl before you can say "statuatory". HypnoRall contains all the ingredients essential to make the girls bow to your every whim. With HypnoRaal every girl you meet can be yours for the carrying. Be the envy of all your pals. Live out your wildest day dreams. Conscious or unconscious, it beats being alone every time. HypnoRall. The clever pill that turns a friendly drink into a night of enchantment."

Astonishingly, no women threatened to beat me up. Perhaps proof that no on had heard it. And  it was a shame. The read was so good. Actually put a hypnotic tremor in my voice every time I said "HypnoRall". It really was a hoot to do these nasty ads as an over-the-top period radio announcer.


Some more tunes and then I read 2 commercials back to back while both bands got together for Tommy and Christa to sing a duet.

The second one was one of the cleverest to ever come from my two typing fingers:

"We'll return to our program, right after this announcement from our friendly underwriters.

If you feel less than jolly this holiday season, you're not alone. Many people chafe under the yoke of family oppression at this time of year, smothered by familial responsibility and ennui. But Don's Deadly Depot has the answer. Introducing the all new Family Xmas Ax. The Family Xmas Ax from Don's Deadly Depot is just what you need to relieve yourself of the burden of kindred. Simply put the Xmas Ax to work this Christmas and kiss all those nagging voices in your head goodbye. The all new Xmas Ax  from Don's Deadly Depot. Wholesale slaughter at wholesale prices."

"We will return to Christa-mass right after this important commercial message.

During these long winter evenings a couple can become bored. Listless. As though the old spark has gone right out of their conjugal meetings. That need no longer be true. A new book, by the world-renowned Intimacy expert Dr. Getmore Buttz, provides just the thing for a couple fishing for the blues. Entitled "Rear Entry" this titillating tome recounts how a couple may experience even greater heights of physical connection through Dr. Buttz patented process. This fascinating and enlightening book explores what Dr. Buttz refers to as  The "We've all got One" school of thought. In it, couples are instructed to look beyond the bounds of every day intimacy and to discover the raptures to be found just next door. (quickly) Chapters include: "How to make clean up quick and easy", "Slow and Steady gets you In", "If it's not dirty, why bother" and the most popular chapter, "What's good for the goose is good for the Gander". Don't delay. Rush out and get your copy of Rear Enders. It'll bring a whole new meaning to "taking it like a man".

The bands played a duet together and it was time to close.

Here's the outro I read:

"{Outro}


(music begins)

Well, the old clock on the wall says that it's time for us to go. We'd stay longer, but the cute boy with the long hair sitting in the back is giving me a look that says "right now", so it's time for us to say good night.

We hope you've enjoyed our humble holiday offering. We wish all of you a  most indulgent Yuletide .

Join us here next time on the Fair to Middlin radio Arts Network.

Until then this is Madison, the Baron Von Wasteland saying, should we find ourselves in a quiet, secluded spot in a little while, remember the golden rule of the holiday season:

It is far more blessed to GIVE than to to RECEIVE.

Good night."

We actually got a little applause after that.

Well, the show was over. This person who I was looking to show didn't.

So. Had a couple of drinks. Gabbed a bit. Gathered up my microphone. Headed over to the house of my no show. Not at home. Dang. I  looked fab in that new tux.

Headed home. All the while thinking how lucky I was to have gotten to experience what it was like to be a musician playing in a bar. The good and the bad.

I'm tempted to start thinking up band names. What about Dennis DeWinter and the Discontents?

Currently listening : Self Portrait By Artie Shaw Release date: 23 October, 2001

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