First page of the Clyde archive.

tiny bathrooms and hey! a gig in Japan!

Posted by jessica on Aug 22, 2009 with No Comments
in Funny Stuff, Performance, Thoughts and Feelings
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I am so tired.

Like, two-show-day tired.
Like seventh-show-of-the-week tired.
Like, I literally prayed that God would help me get through the finale in today’s last show because I was just so doggone tired.
I know, you get it; I’m tired. Like, please move on.
Geez, tough crowd tonight.
Ahem.

So after my tiring seventh show (sorry, it just came out), I went with a few friends to listen to one of the guys from the Rent cast play an acoustic set at a small venue by our hotel.
And when I say small, I mean your great-grandmother’s living room of the 5th story walk up flat when she lived in the Bronx. You know, you’d visit her in your Sunday best and eat a tiny T.V. dinner in front of a tiny T.V. and live for Sundays when the Ed Sullivan show would air.
Oh, that wasn’t you?
Well anyway, the venue was small.
Like, venue is to small as I am to tired. And I only mention me being tired once again because I know you got that already and thought maybe using an analogy will help with you now getting how small the venue really was.
But anyway, I am in this small venue, listening to this guy play his great acoustic set basically in a living room with a bar attached to it, and suddenly my bladder feels so full. I try holding it for a while but, yeah, you can’t just hold it forever.
I. Have. To. Go.
I look around for a bathroom and realize with horror that it is through this tiny door that is right where everybody is listening to the set. Not really removed at all. Just perfect.
But holding it any longer is no longer an option, so I head into the tiny bathroom. And right when I do, the guy ends his song and just starts quietly tuning for the next song.
Of course he does.
For all I know, the tuning could go on forever and since I stepped into the bathroom my need to go has gotten even worse. I think the bladder is sort of like a horse in that the closer you get to the stables, the faster the horse will go. Ah, only swap the stable for a toilet. And cantering for really needing to pee. Oh whatever, you know what I mean, right? You’ve felt the urge to go grow stronger with each step towards the bathroom, too?
That’s what I thought.
Anyway, it’s totally embarrassing because I just know that everybody can hear my own personal Niagara Falls and I might as well go stand next to the guy tuning his guitar and do it there, it’s so loud and in the middle of everything. And since I had to go so badly and had held it up till then, it took forever until I stopped. I probably could have learned the Japanese language while I was waiting for my bladder to empty itself.
And what do you know, but the guy started his next song right when I finally did finish? It’s all in the timing, isn’t it?
Great, great, great.
I didn’t even flush, I was so embarrassed. And I didn’t want to remind people of my presence in the bathroom with more noises from within. Oh and if you even begin to suggest that I simply turn the faucet on to drown out whatever noises I was making, don’t you think I thought of that?
I did, believe me. But lucky for me, the faucet was outside of the room with the toilet, so no good at all. Well, other than for washing your hands, I guess. But the cleanliness of my hands was not exactly what I was so preoccupied with at the moment, believe it or not.
So that was that.
Whatever, it’s real life.
And a really good thing that came out of the whole experience other than me relieving myself to the entertainment of the masses and hearing some good music was that Clyde and I booked a gig there for next Saturday night. He walked right up to the management and got it done and we are both psyched to play in Tokyo. Also, there is this shiny grand piano there that I am just itching to play…

she’s a Martin, but that’s not her name.

Posted by jessica on Aug 19, 2009 with No Comments
in Performance, photography, Thoughts and Feelings
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I have been thinking about this for a while.

Especially while on the road.
And especially when I don’t have access to a piano.
People seem to be under the impression that I am very very busy. When in reality, I am not so busy, I just am not around. And there’s a big difference.
On a one show day, I work for a total of 3 hours. And then I am done with what is known as bringing home the bacon and can do whatever the heck I please. All this to say, I have time for some other stuff in my life. Time to learn new things, and I want to take advantage of this.
So right. What I have been thinking about is purchasing an instrument that is more mobile than say, my piano that weighs a ton.
And for once, I am using that word literally.
See, as much as I’d love to take my piano on the road, I’d hate to see what the airline would charge me for the overweight fees once I stuffed it into my suitcase. Plus, I already have some necessary things in there. Like clothes. And 100 calorie packs of Cheez-Itz. As well as many other mature things along that same vein. So, really there just isn’t room.
Also, some of the music I write has a feel for a guitar rather than a piano and so it’d be nice not to have to go to someone else to play it for me. And by someone else I mean Drew. Or Clyde, my guitar-wiz friend here on tour. Or upon lucky occasion, my talented rocking brother Josh.
Anyway, there is this guitar shop that I pass everyday on my way to work here in Tokyo. I have to admit that the first guitar that stood out to me was purple. And it stood out to me simply because it was purple. So I thought that was the one I wanted.
But then I saw a red one. A deep, rich red that was feminine with an edge. I loved it. Until I heard it, that is. It was tinny, and not nearly as rich or resonant as its color would suggest.
Oh and I guess I should tell you that Clyde was with me. See, when talking over this purchase with Drew, his one caveat was to make sure that it isn’t crap. Those were his exact words. And since I am obviously easily seduced by pretty colored guitars, I asked Clyde to come with me and help me make a good solid choice, i.e., a non-crappy choice.
Anyway, the purple guitar was a no go, as was the red. Well shoot, I didn’t see anything else that drew me. Until…We were taken up to the 6th floor, also known as the Land of Beautiful Acoustic Guitars, also known as the Land of Guitars That Are Way Too Expensive For Me So Why Am I Even Here?
But.
We got around to a bunch in the center of the room and I noticed a smaller guitar, black as the nighttime sky and beautifully crafted. I also noticed it was on sale and within my price range.
We picked it up. Clyde played it and we both marveled at its tones, the roundness of its high notes, the fullness of its low range.
And then it was my turn to play.
And that was it.
Done and done, sign me up, and do you take Visa?
I love it and I am very excited about this new venture, this new challenge.
Already my fingers hurt and already I have learned one new chord. Also, my dear friend Mindy made me play her a song in the dressing room, which I did, and she kindly acted like she loved it. Have I mentioned how dear and sweet Mindy is? I am pretty sure she would love it if I banged two sticks together and yodeled about sheep. Or at least, she would tell me that she did.
Anyway, here she is (My guitar, that is, not Mindy). She’s a Martin, but I won’t be calling her Martin, since she’s a girl.
So pretty.
And I am so grateful that she is mine.
Now to build up some calluses on these fingers of mine…