Evidently I should have chosen my words a bit more carefully when I was hastily composing that big rant two posts back, because some people have read things into it that aren’t quite what I intended to get across. So here is my final word on the subject:
It’s a good word, I know. But to use a few more words:
It’s about me more than anyone else. The point of it all was my ultimate realization that the live sideman thing simply isn’t for me. It isn’t a personal attack against anyone, and the only real bitterness is directed, again, at Wifflewag. I just get a kick out of typing that name. Wifflewag. Chuckle.
I mentioned some recent happenings not as a way to point the finger at anyone (though the ring finger really should get more love in popular culture, don’t you think?), but to try and illustrate how I came to realize I have more reasons to avoid playing live now than I did back when I decided to make a point of avoiding it in the first place, and most of them just have to do with personal feelings and preferences. For better or worse, the studio is where I’ve become most comfortable, and maybe that’s where I should stay most of the time.
It seems to have worked out well so far. I mean, look at all the attention I’ve been getting at the AVN Awards lately. Nikita Denise doesn’t lie.
Basically, it was a personal journey of discovery, full of awe-inspiring sax (tenor sax, if you must know), and ancient, stale Halloween candy. I don’t have the mental energy to get into it with anyone in any more detail than that.
The end, case closed, roll credits.
Moving on. Johnny Smith and I just returned from a weekend trip to Toronto. I shot some video of random moments along the way, and then I edited it into a tiny movie for your viewing pleasure. More than half the footage is stuff I shot from my window seat on the train. Don’t ask me why. I just thought it looked cool. My simplistic, mostly monosyllabic narration began as a joke but soon became a way of life. It might start to annoy you after a while, but I enjoy being silly, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Therefore, there is nothing you can do about it either.
I’ll never forgive myself for missing the opportunity to film two cows engaging in enthusiastic sex, but at least their love will endure.
The brief musical interlude is poorly shot (all you really see is the front of my shirt) because I wanted to get the ukulele idea down before I forgot it and didn’t have the patience to set up some decent framing to accompany it. I also wish I remembered to bring the little video camera along with me when Meryl and I were having adventures in the city on Saturday. Next time I shan’t forget. Adventures can always use occasional video documentation and goofy narration.
When you see the Belgian waffles I had for breakfast Saturday morning, you may find yourself weeping. Be not ashamed — I too would have wept, had I not been wrapped up in the eating of beautiful things.