oldgroupiesneverdie's Blog

On account of the fact that I've hit a brick wall today, and I still have a whole heap of work to do (despite wanting to have Sunday off), I'm going to keep today's blog nice and short.

One thing I did want to share though is a video from a very weird Kiwi "band" known as The Trons.  The Trons are an all-robot ensemble, and yes: they really do play gigs.  Last year they were at the Big Day Out!  :D  The guy who created them is from Hamilton... so we'll have to forgive him.  I'm sure he had a lot of free time on his hands.

Don't say that I never promote Kiwi music on my blog. ;P

Work work workworkworkworkwork!!!

I started today with a to-do list that covered two whole pages!  And that was just the stuff I had to do TODAY!  This new show is one doozy of an undertaking, and it's all still in the planning stage.  Quoting, plotting, booking, running layouts, price comparisons...  I've hardly left my desk since 8 this morning... and it's now past 3am.

At least I remembered to eat though.  I tend to forget about eating when I'm busy, and often there simply isn't time.  There have been a couple of show seasons where I've lived off nothing but energy drinks for about three days straight.  You don't notice the problem while the show's on, but boy do you feel like crap the moment you stop moving!  Adrenaline, fatigue and caffeine withdrawal compete for "who can make you my bitch the fastest?"!  It's actually a bloody dangerous way to be, especially when you're hanging around a stage (where there are multiple things that can kill you), but bad planning and unethical promoters still dog this industry a bit.

In any case, I actually made a point to get away from my desk to make lunch... and to watch Law & Order, so that I could give my brain a bit of a rest for a while.  This, of course, simply inspires the cat to join me.  "No, Viggo, it doesn't matter how much you howl and how often you try to trip me up.  You don't eat felafel so you're really just wasting both your time and mine..."  If I turn my back for a second, he'll be climbing my leg like that kitten in the traffic cop video. :)  He loves his momma...

My workload for tomorrow looks to be about equal to today - especially if I want to have Sunday off to have a life.  There are all those other boring things to deal with, like laundry and housework.  Yet more stuff that I push out of mind when I'm really busy.  Then it's back to meetings on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday...  I think Sunday really will be my only chance to get the towels folded and lay down some mulch for the garden.  Forget about having a social life for a while...

But still...  I can sit and ponder the future for a bit.  I can have my imaginary conversations...  And think about those arty black & white dreams that never were...

Yawn...  Despite the frantic pace of my day, there's really very little to report.  Things are gradually coming together for my next show.  The weather has been okay.  The new law banning cellphones while driving is a real drag.  How am I ever meant to get any work done?

One thing that was on my calendar for today was that I needed to get new tires for my truck.  The ones that it came with are showing signs of perishing from too much sunlight (New Zealand has very little ozone layer... stupid radiation!).  The first two mechanical checks didn't pick it up, but the guy at the Warrant of Fitness station did.  Someone (the previous owner no doubt) had turned the tires around in order to hide the little cracks on the inside.  Needless to say, they failed the Warrant inspection and I had to go order a new pair of tires.

The tires arrived three days ago, but I haven't had the time to get into Firestone to get them fitted.  It's been on my calendar for three days and every day it's been deferred.  As it happened though, I had a meeting finish earlier than expected this afternoon, so I got my spare 30 mins to go get my new tires.

Thanks to the new "no cellphones" law, I had a few messages to check and a few calls to make - so while the guys worked on my truck, I took the opportunity to wander outside and made some calls.  When I returned into the little reception/waiting room, three teenage girls were sitting on the sofa together, obviously also waiting for a vehicle of their own.  I strolled over, bent down to pick up a magazine, and watched one of the girls lean across to her friend and whisper something.  They both then looked at me and giggled.  You could smell the judgment coming off them.

Now, when I was fourteen, that well-placed piece of shrapnel would have sent me into a tailspin - and I guess that's the intention.  Girls make nasty comments about one another.  It seems to be genetic.  Girls (especially teenage girls) also make nasty comments about others in such a way as to be seen doing it.  It's designed to make the other person feel inferior.  I know that a lot of people will rally against backstabbing (and rightly so), but there's a difference between calling someone names when they're not in the room, and calling them names in such a way that they can see you do it but not hear you.  The latter is decidedly more aggressive...  It's also completely lacking in class.

The interesting thing is: I simply don't care anymore.  These girls obviously consider their opinions to be important - at least important enough that they should use them as a hidden weapon to try to make me feel bad about myself.  But the fact is, I don't think their opinions are important.  Part of that is to do with their age and their relative lack of power over my life.  Part of it is to do with the fact that they were obviously still childish and self-absorbed enough to do the old "whisper and giggle" in the first place.  Part if it, no doubt, is also to do with the fact that they were all slightly dumpy, and all dressed identically badly.  They thought they were cool.  I thought that they needed to understand the importance of tailoring.  We both clearly felt superior to one another.

And it's little things like that which reconfirm my opinion that females, in general, suck.  It is in our DNA.  I suck as much as the rest of them...  But at least I don't look like an over-fed 'Twilight' clone.  *giggle*

Checklist:

- Foam rubber (1m thick)

- Kites

- Custom projection prism

- Plinths (lycra?)

- Vikuiti film

- Temporary vinyls

- LED battens

- Tri-truss

- Coffee

- Stress ball...

Yep, it's gotta be show time again!

I've had a hectic few days, and it looks like it won't be stopping anytime soon.  Here I was, moaning to myself last week about a lack of work on the calendar - only to have a huge gig thrown at me just two weeks out from kick-off!  This is a custom build from the ground up, and it hasn't even got a whiff of a design plan yet.  They've got a venue, and pretty much nothing else... and the tickets have already been sent out!  The clock is ticking.  I'm going to be pulling flying monkeys out of my ass to give them the production quality that they want in such a short timeframe.  The next fortnight may be very painful indeed...

It's good though - I actually like these "sink or swim" scenarios....  Well, okay, I'm no so keen on them at the time that I'm going THROUGH them (and there will no doubt be a bit of grumbling on my part about poor planning and leaving everything to the last minute), but the challenge still excites me.  It's a chance to show off and build more business - if I get it right.

If it works, then it will be something that I can look back on with pride.  And a bit of pride is what I need right now.  I need that opportunity to remember why I like the work I do, and why I deserve to get more of it.  Summer was starting to look like a bit of a bugger, but this has cheered me right up... and scared the crap out of me at the same time.

It's a funny old business really...

Last night, I dreamed of T.  When I woke up, it was as if I could still smell him...

It's odd, because I rarely remember my dreams, and (when I do) I almost never dream of him.  He is rightly and thankfully out of my life.  I wouldn't piss on him if he was on fire...

However, it was actually a phone call that awoke me (and probably caused me to remember my dream in the first place).  A conference company was in a mad panic, looking to source a length of tab track for a gig this afternoon.  Tab track is the heavy-duty curtain track for large theater drapes.  It's usually attached to the theater, and so it can be hard to find when you need it.  Apparently someone else was meant to organize some for an event tonight and didn't, and now the conference company were left with just a few hours to find some, have it delivered, and set it up.  The first company they called suggested that they call me.  I said "no problem", and then hung up the phone wondering where the heck I could get tab track from at such short notice.  I spent the next three hours on the phone, bouncing from place to place, trying to get a solution for a reasonable price.  I eventually found it, but couldn't get it delivered to me on time.  The track was too long to fit in a courier van, and the deadline was too short for a freight company.  After a few more phone calls I said "fuck it" and jumped in my truck to drive out and collect the track myself.  This is not what I expected to be doing today.

As I drove out there, I found myself on a road that I haven't used in easy two years.  I still know the road fairly well, but there have been a few changes here and there.  One of the first changes I noticed was a new workshop with an oddly familiar sign...

Now, I'd vaguely heard that T had moved premises, but I didn't know exactly where to (and I didn't care to know either).  Only, suddenly, as I plowed past on my way to pick up an absurdly-priced length of aluminum track... there he was.  The workshop doors were open, to take advantage of the changeable weather, a car was up on the hoist, and a very familiar silhouette was buried elbow-deep in the suspension above him.  The same overalls.  The same bald spot.  The same great galumphing size 12 feet...

I hate that strange psychic feeling.  It's like God saying: "Just wanted to remind you of this.  Have I got your attention yet?"  Why throw up the past again?  Anyone would think that He was just trying to piss me off...  But I'm sure that God has often enjoyed His little practical jokes on me.  Me and Him: we have a bit of a competition going...

I'm glad that T didn't turn around - and he wouldn't have known my new vehicle if he had.  So I got to sail past, keeping a secret that he didn't know...  Perhaps it is better that way.  Sour grapes profit no one.

New Zealand got to see the final episode of Rock of Love Bus tonight (well, apart from the reunion show, which is on next Monday), and I must admit: I'm a bit disappointed.  Part of the disappointment is no doubt because I'll soon have to go back to only one night of Bret Michaels on my TV.  But the other side of it is that I just didn't see the spark between them that I was hoping to see.  I already knew that Taya won, and I'd presumed from that that she was the best fit for him, and yet... I didn't feel the chemistry like I had on previous seasons.  I'm kinda hoping that there isn't a season four (although I'll miss seeing so much of him).  I want him to find a real someone, not a TV girlfriend - someone to make him happy...

All up it's actually been one of those real ennui days.  I sat on the harbor bridge this afternoon, stuck in the traffic as usual, and studied the big gray bolt heads against the big gray steelwork.  The light gave everything an extra sharpness...  And that's been the mood as a whole.  Over-exposed yet completely lifeless.  "A lot of sound and fury, signifying nothing"...

I've been yearning for something deep in my soul.  A new adventure, or at least something more to do.  A passion...  This is starting to feel like one of those times when you pick up your life and just carry it off in a completely new direction.  A time when things (and people) change...

It had better be a change that's cheap or free - that's all I can say...

Okay: lots of writing done (yay!), and a bit of rain (boo!)...  It must still be Spring.

Sadly, after hours and hours at the computer, I now kinda feel like I'm all written out for the day... and yet the daily blog awaits.  I'm sure people can tell when I'm really enjoying writing my blog and when it's a real chore.  I wish I could just cut and paste off my novella, in order to show what I've been doing all day, but I do need to keep some things to myself.  A girl's entitled to a private life after all. :)

However, I have noticed that when I'm struggling for the right emotional mood in my writing (as I have been recently), I go on the hunt for music.  The right song can put my heart and brain in just the right place, and pull the words right outta me...  I'm yet to find the right song for this story.  It's in a different (as yet silent) world.  Maybe I'm looking in the wrong place.  It might yet be an opera...

One song that I did rediscover during my hunt was Aerosmith's 'Dream On'.  This song is connected to a completely different story, at least in my head, but that was really what got me thinking about the emotional context that we lend to music sometimes.  I'm sure that this song triggers something very unique in me.  It's a rallying cry against fate...  At least it is to me.

And speaking of fate, the good news is that Steven Tyler has announced that he's not leaving Aerosmith after all - which is awesome.  From a completely selfish perspective, I would hate to lose any potential future songs like this one...

Get out your lighters, people... 

Even with the pack out, I still got some writing done today.  So I'm feeling pretty good. :)

The most frustrating thing is that I've "gone off the boil" a bit with my ideas (as I said would happen), but at least I still made a few notes out of the shadows that remain in my head.  However, the real joy was simply in revisiting the old novella that I wrote a couple of years ago.  I had to re-immerse myself by reading it through again, in order to pick up the same sort of cadence that I'd started with.  It's my baby, and I've been sitting on it (and randomly polishing it) for quite some time.  I've always been happy with how it came together, and it's still a story that I enjoy reading - even after about a hundred times.  If I'm going to try to publish anything in the coming year, this is probably it.

One of the best things that came out of the last few days is that I've had ideas for a couple of new scenes which will take the narrative in a completely different direction, as well as helping me to fix up a couple of other scenes that I'd always felt were a bit clunky.  It's a rare piece for me, in that it started out with the potential to be larger and more widely-drawn than I initially made it.  Usually my writing goes the other way: it gets smaller as I re-draft it, because I cut out the fat.  But this one offers a lot of side-avenues and a lot of potential to view events through different characters - and that's a big part of what I like about it.  It has a whole world of its own that I'm only gradually peeling back and revealing.

Of course, all of this prattle is undoubtedly very boring to most people, and I wish I could be a little more specific about the story itself... but I'm not going to be.  Suffice to say that the whole concept came to me in a dream - and it was as if I was just an observer watching a movie.  I wasn't in the movie, I was just watching.  When I woke up, I wrote down what happened, and what was going to happen next... and that's pretty much all I've done all along.  I still feel like I am just watching the story play out and writing it down as it does.  It doesn't feel like something I've had to create - it's just something that happened.  I respond to it emotionally in much the same way as I'd hope any reader would.

The next, as yet unanswered, question is: will anybody else want to read it?  I've had good feedback from the few friends who have read it, but one must always take friends with a grain of salt when it comes to these things.  I've never tested whether or not there a market for this tale.

Maybe.  One day.  Eventually...  I guess there's no point in writing it if it's not meant to be read.

I can't believe that I broke my exercycle!  I've only had it like a month!

And no, before you ask, I didn't break it by sitting on it.  :P  I wound up the tensioner too tight and snapped the weld.  Grrrr...  It was secondhand when I got it, and I've already had to do a few "repairs": rebuilding a hinge, reattaching a pedal, packing and lubricating the flywheel.  Unfortunately I draw the line at welding.  Looks like I may have to improvise a bit...

Didn't get my pack-out done either.  The lighting guys aren't packing out till the morning, and I need to piggyback off them.  Yawn.  Looks like there will be no Saturday sleep-in for me...

As it is, my "alone time" is being plagued with daydreams lately.  The first series of Rock of Love is back on TV here (which means they're now playing two series concurrently!), and I've been reminded of just how funny that first season was.  I'm back to having silly conversations with Bret in my head.  Trying to get to know the unknowable...

I really can be a sad little idiot sometimes, can't I? :) ...

... I don't know why it haunts me so...

I guess I worry sometimes that, if he can't make a relationship work, then what hope do I have?  :D  He's a nice guy, and obviously he has ample options at his disposal...

... I wish I knew what he was looking for...  Are the little issues really so insurmountable?...

I'm worried that the work might just leave us both lonely in the end...

There's been kind of a funny story in the news in NZ recently.  It seems that a police officer in Christchurch started frequenting the services of a local prostitute, including a few trysts in the back of the police car (whilst he was in uniform... or at least, parts of his uniform!  Hehehe...).

He's been fired (obviously) and landed himself in court... but not because he had sex with a prostitute: simply because he refused to PAY her.  Prostitution is perfectly legal in New Zealand.  Skipping out on a bill, however, is not.

---

I can't believe that it's only Thursday.  I feel like I've had too much on my plate all week, and there's still Friday to go.  I'm packing out a gig on Saturday too... or maybe late tomorrow night.  I haven't decided yet.  In some ways, it would be nice to get it done tomorrow night (no matter how late), so that I can have Saturday off for a sleep-in.

On the more greedy side, I've also had a few ideas for a story rattling around my head for the last couple of days, and I want to apply some time to writing them out before they disappear for good.  It's amazing how ideas just come and go like that.  If we don't grab them while they're here, they just vanish forever.  I need time alone with my thoughts, with nothing else pressing in on my consciousness...

Saturday.  I shall pencil it out in my diary now...  One more day to go...

Well I'm-a West Coast struttin',

One bad mother.

Got a rattlesnake suitcase, under my arm.

Said I'm a mean machine,

Been drinking gasoline,

And, honey, you can make my motor hum...

Stuck on the motorway, with an accident squashing everything down to a halt...  Damn.  Windscreen wipers swatting away the drizzle like the agitated tails of impatient horses.

We do the painfully slow merge, indicators blinking through the gray, hoping that the next lane might be moving fractionally faster.  It's always a gamble.  We merge back and forth, trying to inch forward.  There is a great deal of satisfaction to catch sight of a Mercedes that cut me off earlier.  All that stupidity for nothing.  Sucker.

I gotta molotov cocktail with a match to go.

I smoke my cigarette with style.

And I can tell you, honey,

You can make my money tonight...

The people in the cars around me look frustrated, and bored, and desperate.  But I have slipped Appetite for Destruction into the CD player, and I am wailing along to 'Night Train' at the top of my lungs, grinning all the way.  The other drivers give me funny looks, but I don't care.

Wake up late, honey, put on your clothes,

And take your credit card to the liquor store.

Well that's one for you, and two for me by tonight...

To tell the truth, I very rarely listen to Guns 'n' Roses.  It's a symptom of the fact that I think Axl Rose is such a tool.  The benefit of that, however, is that I will randomly "rediscover" Appetite for Destruction and remember just how good it really was.

I have a history with this album.  I used to tell people that it was the first album I ever bought...  (If I'm honest, the first album I ever bought was Toto IV, but I WAS seven at the time!).  Appetite for Destruction was the SECOND album I ever bought, just before I turned eleven.  And it did things to me...  It made me think about boys in new and interesting ways...

It's such a sexy album, but it's really dirty-sexy.  It smells like leather and pussy - like a low-rent stripper's G-string.  It feels like a rough fuck in a toilet stall.  In a lot of ways, I'm glad that I put it down early and moved on.  But still, there's a reason why (a couple of times) I've dropped parts of my adult life to go chasing skinny, lanky-haired, bearded, chain-smoking roadies with bottle-scars and tattoos of death and naked women on their arms.  It's enormously arousing, without ever trying to be...  And I've said it before, but when you pick up stray dogs you can't be surprised if they piss on your floor...

"Loaded like a freight train!

Flyyyying like an aeroplaaaayne!

Feeling like a space brain ONE MORE TIME TONI-Y-IGHT!!!"

 *flicks hair around as she moshes in the traffic jam*

Turn it up, baby.  I like it that way...

It's a funny old world sometimes.  I've been reading a bit about Aerosmith in the last couple of days - what with Steven Tyler supposedly going AWOL, and Joe Perry now saying that they're going to replace him and be better off...

I get the urge to crack people's heads together sometimes, but I honestly don't know enough about what's really going on to be able to comment.

It's funny how these things still affect people like me.  One never knows what really goes on inside someone else's band, just as one never knows what goes on within someone else's marriage.  And yet still, it is like watching two of my friends fight.  I want them to reconcile for their own sake, or at the very least be civil about it.  I won't pick sides...  But it is sad to see, all the same.  They were beautiful together...

Times change.  Friends come and go.  And some memories are mourned more than others.  On one hand, you don't want to let them go so easily.  On the other, you know that you are powerless to hold onto shadows...

Still... the memories are grand...

The back has been seriously playing up today.  I had an hour on my feet this morning (and I wanted to look nice, so I wore my pink and gold heels... big mistake), followed by a few errands around the city.  I was stubborn and grit my teeth through it, but after I got home by lunchtime I pretty much spent the rest of the day on the floor.  Stupid spine.  It didn't stop the muscle spasms for about 9 hours.  I hate being knocked out so much and so often.  I've got a really busy week this week and I'm already falling behind.  This is going to be a really tough few days if I'm not mobile...

My diary is starting to fill up (which is great), but a lot of it isn't going to bring me in any money in the short term (which isn't so great).  There's a bit of work to do on that front, but it's all about networking right now... yet another task where I need to be standing up.

R's sister brought the baby around for dinner tonight, and all I could do was wave from the floor.  I've gotta get on top of this whole thing...

I'm still feeling pretty optimistic though - at least at this stage.  My roses are blooming in the November sun, my little seedlings are getting bigger, my world is doing its best to grow in size and strength...

If only I had a bit more of the strength right now - at least in the physical sense...

Must be time to do some dancing in my head...

Right.  Sunday afternoon meant that I had to hide from the wonderful Spring sunshine and write out a marketing plan...  Yawn.

It's a good exercise for me though.  I've been tossing around ideas for a show project, but hadn't written anything down yet.  Forcing myself to sit down and analyze the concept from a financial perspective immediately made my business brain kick in and take over from my creative brain.  Right away, the concept started to change into something more salable.  Right away, the next few steps were becoming clear.  Different venues.  Different timeframe.  Different concept...

I wish I had done this a month ago when I first started talking to people about it.

It's still amazing how few people actually do this kind of planning at the beginning of a show though.  Even supposed professionals sometimes skip this important step.  It's almost as if it's seen as a sell-out of the creative concept of a show.  As if, if you just believe in the idea hard enough, people will come to see whatever you're presenting (no matter how daft).  Some people still seem to think that questioning the financial viability of a concept is somehow pessimistic...

In the last month I've heard of two fairly significant events getting canceled at the last minute due to lack of uptake.  Obviously some people didn't get their market research right, or simply didn't do it in the first place.  It hurts the bottom line.  Most of all, it hurts the viability of the promoting business.

It's funny but I've never been accused of being an optimist in business.  I will always try to conceive of the worst case scenario, and prepare for that.  It really, really hacks off the airy-fairy people who just want to believe in something grand...  It's also a big part of the reason why I've made all of my previous employers piles of money.  I don't back risks, and I'll tweak anything in order to sell more tickets.

I'm such a whore. :D

For some reason I'm feeling rather grounded tonight.  Perhaps my recent fatigue has morphed into a simple, numb calm.  In any case, it's set to be a sunny Sunday tomorrow - full of honey bees and a sweet breeze off the sea - and I still have a pile of work sitting on my desk waiting for me...

I went hunting for some music to fit my mood, and this one seemed to work.  Plus it's a Kiwi song, with Kiwi scenery.  Kiwi venues.  Kiwi gear.  Kiwi quiet...  All too familiar...