Sketch

Sketch: noun a rough or unfinished drawing or painting, often made to assist in making a more finished picture.

Or my prefered definition of the comedic variety of a sketch (skip to the 4:51 mark if it doesn’t do it for you automatically).

Although these are both excellent definitions of the respective variations of a sketch, I’d like to create one of my own.

I haven’t come up with a catchy title, but I’m envisioning a written version to add to the above two types.

I don’t write fiction often, but when I do I get a clear single image or images in my head and write in great detail about that scene. I have no idea where this image comes from or where this ‘written sketch’ is going. I make no plans, no outlines, just feverishly describe with great detail what I see. I get the feeling that in the unlikely event I should ever finish a short story, the reader would drown in Chekhov's guns. I sort of delite in the idea, not in drowning readers but in breaking rules and restraints on how and what I should write.

In order to rebel fully though, you must actually finish something. Yet this is not the case. I invariably walk away from the keyboard with the full intent to continue on whatever sketch I just created later, but I almost never do. What is left is a written version of a few buildings, a lake or peninsula with mountains in the background and so forth.

The sketch gets filed away in its own folder and forgotten about. I daydream about continuing this sketch or that sketch but nothing ever comes of these thoughts.

So I’ve amassed a written sketchbook over the years. I can only think of one short story I’ve finished. The rest are just “rough” and “unfinished” chunks of texts taking up space on the google cloud. Some are only a few words long hinting at bizarre dreams from the night prior.

This used to bother me. It used to even make me angry or depressed. To the point where I would start thinking of these sketches, or have a flash and WANT to write out what I see but can’t at the moment. Instead I write a prompt and file it away. These thoughts angered me because I thought “what is the point?” I might sketch them, I might not. Even if I do it won’t amount to a completed work so stop thinking about it.

I usually can’t though, adding to the frustration.

I’m not sure when it happened or why, but I just came to accept them for what they are, vague, rough images used to quell whatever need to write I felt at the time. Yes, I suck at finishing things, especially written, fictional things, but at least some internal purpose was served and in the unlikely event I feel the need to revisit that scene, I know just where my sketchbook is.

In the spirit of sketches I thought I’d share one that is particularly fitting. I didn’t realize how fitting until I reread for the first time in a very long time. The very first line was the flash that got me going. Everything else was leading up to that line and made on the spot (during the feverish stage I mentioned above). In the story the main character laments the lack of desire to write even though he spends most of his workday wanting to. So I figured, right on topic for this particular blog.

“Maybe part of the motivation is that you’re NOT supposed to be doing it.” She questioned taking another long drag from her cigarette, staring off into the distance deep in thought.

I had never really considered myself the rebellious type but that could indeed be part of my problem. Still, it didn’t quite fit. I wanted it to fit, needed it to fit, but yet somehow, like the missing ingredient in the family recipe, something was just not quite right during the taste test.

“Nah” I said, “I don’t think that’s it.”

“Or maybe you’re just fucking lazy.” She scratched her head with her right hand and her left held her cigarette at length while individual strands of blond hairs danced about her face in the early fall breeze. They seemed to have minds of their own, tiny tentacles reaching into the air for microbes to feast on.

I followed the tentacles back to their source, her dark brown roots had covered a lot of area on either side of her part. I’d never seen so much root on anyone else. Was that the ‘in’ thing now? Nah, she wouldn’t be bothered with that crap. Everything about her was so beautifully unplanned and out of control. If it was ‘in’ it would just be an annoying coincidence to her.

Unfortunately that lack of caring seemed to extend to me as well.

Suddenly she snapped back to reality. “Hey! Did you hear me?” she said before adding “I just called you fucking lazy.” Her head tilted to the side as she immediately started lightly laughing while flicking her cigarette.

‘She did didn’t she?’ I thought. And she didn’t care one bit about how I would take it. With her head turned and mouth open in a light laugh I admired her teeth. I couldn’t really describe them to you but they were special, special in a way that growing up with a parent who couldn’t afford to get you braces made teeth special.

I suddenly really hated my teeth. Then I suddenly realized I hadn’t said anything in a really long time.

Quick, say something, my brain urged! But be cool,......pretend you haven’t been Facebook stalking her since 8th grade.

“I….” was all I got out and probably for the better. I don’t know what was to follow but it couldn’t have been great. In fact, it would probably have been an immensely embarrassing bramble of words that would go in my hall of fame of awkward utterances to attractive females.

“Later” she had interrupted unknowingly, while ashing her cigarette right there on the handicap ramp in the back of the building. She didn’t know she interrupted me, which brought me some solace, but I felt like I was in a dream where a monster was chasing me and I couldn’t make a sound.

Instead the monster was up, swirling effortlessly around. Up the ramp it went, no hair flip exposing the neck, no look back at me.

An unbuttoned black and blue plaid shirt flapped uncaring in the wind. Only parts of the plain black shirt underneath could be seen as the plaid was tossed about by the wind. Her jeans were ripped in all the right places and black Converse shoes quickly made their way up the ramp.

And just like that it was over. After a summer where I had just so happened to end up interning at the same place she worked. A crush thought lost then brought back to life with all the subtlety of high voltage resuscitation paddles.

I stood there in a mannequin-like state until the metal door slammed on its own, jolting me back to reality.

In retrospect I should have given myself more credit. I’m surprised I managed to say anything. Then I began the first replay of the events that just happened for the first of what would be many many replays to come. I had been writing at one of the outdoor break area benches.

The voice had hit me like lightning, so fast and bright its source I didn’t immediately register. She had asked in a bored tone “Whatcha’ writtin’?”. After turning though, the sound of the voice resonated in my head. As it did so, I responded on autopilot, again perhaps better that way.

While her two words tried to penetrate my thick skull, the memories of our shared youth clouded the inside of my skull’s thickness. I managed simply, “They’re supposed to look like meeting notes, but everyday day during our morning meeting I write a little bit on a story. I’m not supposed to, but I’m so bored……...I always promise myself I’ll work on it more when I’m not busy or at work but I never do, and I never know why.”

My thoughts coming full circle, I was once again aware of where I was, in a small courtyard at the bottom of our building. At some point I must have stood to face her, although I have no recollection of doing that. I must have taken the elevator back up to the office, but the butterflies in my stomach could have probably gotten me up there just fine.

Favorite Song: Part 3

Almost six months ago I left off with songs that didn’t quite make the final four. This time I PROMISE I’ll wrap things up.

To review, the final four from the last installment are:

1. “Electric Heart” by Sia from “1000 Forms Of Fear”
2. “Slim Pickens Does The Right Thing…..” by The Offspring from “Days Go By”
3. “Heart Is A Drum” by Beck from “Morning Phase”
4. “Wood Chipper” by John Hiatt from “Mystic Pinball”

I remember where I was when I saw a bunch of twelve year old girls’ heads on boxes with wigs on singing while another danced about. I was about to get an MRI or a CAT scan or some other expensive test and Ellen was on mute in about the third waiting room I had been in so far. I remarked to my wife as I watched that I was getting old because I had no idea what I was looking at.

Later the song would come up as recommended in conjunction with a new interest of mine and another “almost made it” Lana Del Ray. I loved the song “Electric Heart”. I’m a sucker for edited chopped vocals. The tune was infectious and I listened to it A LOT. It got a heavy play count and so it made it on my list. Favorite song? Of course not. I led with the song, did you think I would just open up with the winner and then drone on for three pages? Nope. Sorry Dia.

The next song has roots in my first “favorite band”, “The Offspring”. I played my cassette copy of Smash over and over. Countless walkman double “A” batteries were lost. I also went back and purchased their previous albums. For a long period in my life I felt “Ignition” was the perfect album in that their was no filler on album. All the songs were awesome, at least to me at age 14.

Another interesting side note, the lead singer of the band, Dexter Holland, is why I grew my hair out. I wanted braids like his. Then when he lopped his hair off and went with the spiked look with the sunglasses…...you probably never wondered where that look came from but there you go…...

Aside from allowing me to steal heavily from his look, Dexter himself is a very interesting character. In addition to making hits like “Self Esteem”, “Pretty Fly For A White Guy”, “Come Out and Play” and so forth, he graduated as valedictorian of his high school, took a break after the mega hit “Smash” to finish his bachelor's degree in Biology, and get his masters and PhD in molecular biology from USC. He then co-authored scientific papers like “Identification of Human MicroRNA-Like Sequences Embedded within the Protein-Encoding Genes of the Human Immunodeficiency Virus”. In other words, he’s published papers detailing his breakthroughs with HIV/AIDS research.

He also is a registered airline pilot, flight instructor, skydiver, surfer, skateboarder, collector of a very specific set of stamps and he even created his own brand of hot sauce.

So being my first favorite band, influencing my style, cranking out albums that always manage to hook deeply into pop culture and shake it about violently as it should be….is that enough to make my list…(oh yeah and the AIDS stuff too)?

No, not quite. A little bit extra was still needed. Was this ‘extra’ to be found in John Hiatt’s “Wood Chipper”?

I remember just where I was, playing Minecraft and coming down with a cold. I had enough vacation days to take a whole week off every for my birthday at my old job. I was listening to his album “Mystic Pinball” for the first time. I was stopped mid pick axing as I swear I just heard the narrator get shot in the middle of the song. Yep...I sure did.

“One bullet to the head

Before I hit the ground I was dead

I guess I'm tellin' you this before you go fishin' now, Jimmy”

The rest is pure genius.

John Hiatt is like the human equivalent of “Dr. Stranglelove” it’s a movie you’ve probably never heard of, but it’s influence is so deep in pop culture that you know it better than you think you do. Some so ingrained that one clip and you find yourself saying “OH! THAT’S where THAT came from!”

Fun fact: The Offspring nominee? A direct reference to Dr. Strangelove, another reason it made the final four, anyway back John and that woodchipper…….

The story is a classic example of John’s dazzling ability to be relatable yet cut deep with simple yet powerful lyrics.

The grocery list at the end is nothing short of brilliant, almost comically humanizing a sad story so very poignantly yet making your heart ache all at once.

So is this textbook John Hiatt work of art the favorite song we’ve been after for all this time now? Nope.

That leaves just one song, Beck’s “Heart Is A Drum” with the last of the four this surely HAS to be the favorite song after ALL this time right……….

Well not so fast. In the long time I’ve been writing this 21 Pilots put out an album called “Blurry Face” full of painfully relatable songs including “Stressed Out” something that hits just about all my sweet spots. Fear of growing up, stressing out, worrying what others think despite a desire not to, not to mention razor sharp use of double meaning:

But it would remind us of when nothing really mattered

Out of student loans and tree-house homes we all would take the latter

Although I like to think of it like this:

But it would remind us of when nothing really mattered

Out of student loans and tree-house homes we all would take the la(dd)(tt)er

Mmmm….lyrical deliciousness.

Coming along just as I was struggling with my new job, all the stress involved, being an adult and the pressure of “You gotta make money” and this song could have very well snuck in and stole the show,....but did it?

No. Close, but no. If I was to pick an album I could relate to most it might just be “Blurryface” but it still misses that something extra.

Yes, Kayla (Remember her? She’s the one that asked me like a year ago and started all this?) my favorite song of all time is “Heart Like a Drum” by Beck.

It has everything. A narrative about the passage of time, dealing with aging, longing for youth all with a reference to percussion which has long held a special place in my heart. Something my loved ones have always said I had a knack for, drums. Speaking of hearts and drums:

“Your heart is a drum keeping time with everyone

Everyone, if they drown from the undertow

Need to find someone to show me how to play it slow

Or just let it go”

Long have I struggled with the idea of growing old and the desire to go back but being unable to. I remember being very young, in North Platte (so less than five), crying because I didn’t want to be an adult, I didn’t want to die, I didn’t want to stop playing. Yet my heart kept beating like a drum.

I know eyes will roll at this, but I truly believe I went through a midlife crisis at fifteen, when all my anxiety mixed with puberty and the realization that adulthood was less than a decade away. If I was lucky I would find a job and before I knew it….I’d get caught in that undertow. And the fact that I was miserable during this time,....made things worse.

Still, I soldiered on. Now I’m an adult and I hate it, just like I thought i would. The fact that I saw it coming at age less than five doesn’t help and I knew it wouldn’t which made it even harder at the time.

During this same time Beck’s “Odelay” hit’s like “a good drum break” and I loved it. I liked “Loser” too and that’s what ties all this into a big knot.

The video is one of those rare times where it couldn’t have been done any better, the symbolism is there, vague enough to make some lost and see Beck as being “Random” or “What kind of drugs is he on” while others can see through the haze to understand Beck’s classic Kaleidoscopic view of the world, in this case time.

Space men, the grim reaper, Beck peering in on himself, love, death. Beck walking alongside a guy dressed like him from the “Loser” video. The video is full of references to his first smash hit video from 1993. The spacemen make an appearance, this time repurposed to represent the future, Beck from the Loser video complete with stocking cap and dance from “Loser” representing his adolescence. The grim reaper is obvious. Although I didn’t notice until I rewatched “Loser” that even the grim reaper was also in “Loser” if only briefly. The young blonde boy, childhood (I would almost put money on it that “young Beck” is actually his real life son). All of these Becks take turns walking up that road while the drum keeps time. Even the guitar the old man plays and the casket he gets out of in the Loser video make an appearance, although the old man doesn’t. I would venture to guess that that guy is no longer with us as he looked pretty rough even in 1993. Could even his lack of appearance and therefore indication of his death be yet another reminder of our own mortality? Perhaps, or perhaps I’m reading too much into a small part of the video.

In the end they are all walking together, all headed in the same direction, no going back. The fact that they are walking away from the camera is no mistake either. What about the dying woman and the priest? I would go with lost love. Beck’s break up years ago while unfortunate for him made for some great heartbreak music, just a part of life and therefore death. The priest, I suppose representing religion, something all of us use to help deal with that always beating drum of life towards death. Simply, to deal with one's own mortality. The flower handed to the grim reaper, probably acceptance of that ultimate fate.

Stacked on top of all the meaning and deep personal connection to myself is the visual and musical gap of growth of Beck as an artist. The same guy who wrote “Satin Gave Me A Taco” and “Cut in Half Blues” has grown exponentially to “Heart is a drum”. I’ve been there for every album in between and never been disappointed. Each album is so different from the rest, so much fearless musical experimentation, yet never a let down. This juxtaposition, while perhaps not intentional, is just another reminder of how we grow and change as our hearts keeps time.

And the growing and changing doesn’t stop. Just when you think you have Beck figured out he drops “WoW” which harkens back to his Odelay days. Even if the song features what seems like trademark Beck meaning disguised in what appears to be irregular lyrics it’s not without references made by an older, wiser Beck:

“It's my life, your life

Live it once, can't live it twice

So nice, so nice

Smooth like a tidal wave, take you on a getaway

My friends, your friends

Livin' everyday like it's just about to end”

Continues:

“It's your life

You gotta try to get it right

Look around, don't forget where you came from

It's just another perfect night

We're gonna take it around the world”

Yes, around the world and back to that favorite song, that question, so many drum beats ago.

So Kayla, my favorite song…..Beck’s “Heart Is A Drum”. Sorry it took so long to answer kiddo. Enjoy your youth. May someone teach you how to play your drum slow….or….just let it go….

A Very Special Blog

I worked long and hard on this, please enjoy.

Never would have thought a 6 minute video would take so long and be so hard to make,

Never done anything with video before like this and may never again so please forgive my amateurism.

Finally, you may have to pause at times, his talk bubbles don't stay up very long. You'll also need audio.

 I've said too much already!

So CLICK HERE and Enjoy!

Favorite Song. Part 2

When I left off last time I had narrowed the field of potential favorite songs down to the following four which again are in no particular order:

1. “Electric Heart” by Sia from “1000 Forms Of Fear”
2. “Slim Pickens Does The Right Thing…..” by The Offspring from “Days Go By”
3. “Heart Is A Drum” by Beck from “Morning Phase”
4. “Wood Chipper” by John Hiatt from “Mystic Pinball”

Before we determine which of these four is indeed my favorite song I find it essential to first discuss some of the surprising discoveries while delving into the number of plays each song has gotten.

Take for example Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness the epic double album by The Smashing Pumpkins. This album was  released at a pivotal time in my life. It is an album I initially didn't like and I recall telling my mom that and that I never liked any of my albums the first time I listened to them. This is a vivid memory I remember exactly where we were and where we were going. She was very upset because she heard, or I should say misheard, me say that I didn't like any of the music that I bought but what I meant was it in order for an album to have staying power, for an album to stay interesting, to continue to be listened it had to grow on me. This meant that some albums were to left on the shelf for years after an initial “meh” assessment. And then some twist of fate or strange happening or whim caused me to listen again later, sometimes years later. Perhaps I had to grow as a person or grow musically in order for me to fully appreciate the music.

No greater musical growth do I owe more to than Mellon Collie. When I first purchased the album I purchased it as a double cassette and I listen to it so much that I wore out the cassettes and had to buy a second set this was followed by the double CD set which in turn was followed by yet another double CD set after the first got scratched and then the digital purchase when it came time to import my music to Google Play because many of the songs were too scratched to import. So we're talking about an album that I purchased roughly 5 times.This is epic to me in every sense of the word because we’re talking about a double album. So double the price each time. As a 15 year old, my musical budget was not something which I took lightly.

Cost aside, we return to the musical growth aspect, the idea that 15 year old me could be enchanted by an album which begins with a piano solo that features cellos and violins. This is the same kid who bought the album due to the almost heavy metal anger of “Bullet With Butterfly Wings”.

I remember being in awe of the album which itself consisted of enough tracks to make two CDs worth of music. I remember being in even greater awe when I heard that more than 50 songs were recorded for this album. In fact one of the most popular tracks, “1979”, didn't make the cut or almost didn't make the cut. When Billy Corgan heard that the track wasn't going to make the cut he went back to the studio to redo the song which became a single and a big hit.

This epicness, this ability to turn out so many songs and so many good songs, led to many of them being released as B-sides. A concept new to me, and which led me to collect music.  I collected every single cd that I could find.

To this day one of the most prideful trades of my life was trading Garbage’s self-titled album for the single for “Bullet With Butterfly Wings which contained many b-sides, but the single was only available for one week and came with a poster which I believe is still in my attic.

Poor Cameron I can't remember your last name but you were on the receiving end of this lopsided trade and I can remember him begging in vain to undo that trade.

As for Garbage they were still in the “I don’t quite get it yet” phase for me. Years later I would come to adore them and collect all of their albums.

So with all of that musical growth, the onset of my collecting music, my first taste of the B-side concept……..not one of the songs made it on my list.

Part of this could be due to the fact that it is an album in the truest sense of the word album in that all the songs are tied together and together they make their own piece of art instead of a single song that stands out and can be listened to over and over again. To this day I can't hear a song from that album on the radio without hearing in my mind the start of the next song.

Another bigger less interesting reason is that with so many songs on the album, no one song will ever rack up that many listens so to speak, and the album is new to the digital musical environment I am so entrenched in.

On the opposite end of the spectrum and perhaps a little x-rated is that I discovered that I am a bigger fan of the band Orgy than I realized. I purchased a CD of theirs (Vapor Transmission) and I honestly can’t remember if I liked it originally or if it had to wait its turn and grow on me like so many others. When it came time to upload my cds it was just another in the stack, sitting there in the cloud...waiting. Finally, one day I’m sure I dug it enough to buy their first album Candy Ass and didn't think much more of it. Sure I liked them but didn’t realize how much I liked them until I gandered at the numbers.

The Google Play numbers revealed that the two albums I have of theirs are among the most played out of all the albums that I own and that's saying something when I own roughly 3400 songs. This can most typically be attributed to what I call “shuffle mood” where I have no idea what I want to listen to but still have the desire to listen to music. I go to the highest level of my musical hierarchy and hit the shuffle button and when I happen upon a track that I like, it makes me want to listen to an entire album.

So I surmise that I am in the mood for Orgy during shuffle mood more than I realized. After making this discovery I rediscovered a music video of theirs which is even more brilliant now than when it came out (and it was brilliant then too). The band always had a sort of futurist styling to them and the video for “Stitches” was no exception. But watching the video now becomes almost unworldly.

The video is filmed as a sort of museum exhibit for a teenager. He reads the clear glass description. He views the “perfunctory performance”, the labeled band members, written transcripts from the videos planning stage, lampooned by the “youthful image”, “the product” (music contained in a physical form! weird!). The last thing this futuristic museum goer inspects (and it is by far my favorite) the completely unrelated but music video staple, and necessity “The Obligatory Female”. This is done in sarcasm, even the Director isn’t spared with a table of cash labeled “Directors Fee”.

Now though, I can see vividly without much imagination on my part, one of my step kids walking about this music video exhibit actually learning about an art form I adore but is no more, at least not in the way it was consumed during this video’s time in the early 2000s. The meta-ness of all of this is simply delicious to me.

I will allow myself one more “miss” before getting to the candidates. I promised myself this would only be a two parter and I’m beginning to feel a bit like I like to imagine Billy Corgan during the making of those 50 songs for Mellon Collie. “Shit! I’ve already written 50 songs and only 24ish will make the cut, I need to wrap this up”.  In other words he writes music like I write...too much.

With brevity in mind I bring up John Hiatt but spare the story of how his music entered my life in a way that itself necessitates it’s own blog entry. I ask that you remind me to write that blog some day. Deal?

One of his songs DID make the list while another just barely missed it. The near miss was “Nobody Knew His Name”  the haunting tale of a Vietnam vet who lost the love of his life to a railroader and is now relegated to waiting by the tracks and drinking away the pain of both the loss of his woman and I imagine the war itself. All told by John’s raspy voice, like he’s retelling the story to his “boys” years and years later.

It contains one of the most vivid and most power lyrics I think I’ve ever heard. I would dare say it might even be my favorite and that’s saying something.

Red tip of a cigarette glowin'

Windows up against the rain

Night so dark, there was nothing else showin'

But nobody knew his name, boys

Nobody knew his name

The vividness of so few words is so brilliant. Perhaps I’m a little jealous of John’s ability to cram so much into so little type...without needing to say….take up two overly long blogs…..

This is the art of poetry/lyrics and why both are so difficult and why so many people suck at it or just plain don’t get it.

This song inspired me to pursue an entirely different form of blogging where I dissect the songs meaning, at least to me, and then compare it to the real meaning and share the results. Stay tuned for that.

Speaking of staying tuned, I have failed in my promise to myself of keeping this a two parter. Yes, this will have to be a trilogy, hopefully without the 3 month gap between now and the third and hopefully final installment.

Status

I have eleven blog ideas. Some more fleshed out than others, some dating back to early March of 2015.

My point is even though I'm not producing many blogs any more doesn't mean I'm not thinking about it all the time.