Sunday, October 31, 2010

Happy fuckin' birthday to me


This is so fuckin' stupid.

What's that, farmboy?

I am just too fuckin' sensitive and it fuckin' pisses me off.

What's up?

I realized today that my birthday is gone and over, and I didn't get a fuckin' present. So now I'm in self-pity mode. I swear, I wish holidays didn't have this present thing happening, 'cause it's just a way to get your feelings hurt. I mean, I don't even need anything. There's not even anything I particularly want. It's just...

Just what, farmboy?

It's just that other people, they get something for their birthdays, but, man, I just don't...you know, I'm single and I don't have kids and it's the recession and...I don't get to have things like that.

I hate birthdays. I'd rather not have them. They just seem like such a narcissistic waste of time. And what pisses me off is that it's supposed to be a good thing, but it really isn't, you know? I mean, I always get my feelings hurt and I don't know how to get around it.

(starts to cry) It's just so damn stupid, and my fuckin' mind starts thinking things like I'm a bad person, I don't deserve to have the things other people have, and then it magnifies all the other problems in my life, like my...well, poverty, like how I'm always having to worry about money. I need clothes badly and I can't afford them and...

And?

I just need to forget about this shit, man.

So here's what's gonna happen. I'm going to go to the grocery store, where I'm gonna buy bad food and then go home and smoke weed and stuff myself 'cause maybe that'll make me feel better.

Fuck.

I didn't even get a cake. I mean, I know that's not important. I know I'm not important...

Can you get your mind on something else?

That's what I need to do. This is so worthless. It's more my fuckin' mind than anything. I'm always going through this on holidays. Other people, well...I'm not other people. I've always wanted to be other people, but unfortunately I'm not. I'm fuckin' farmboy, and what happens to normal people doesn't apply to me.

You just got your feelings hurt, farmboy...

Yeah, and this will pass. So now comes the "The world is falling apart and there's people hungry and sick and homeless and you're hurt because of your fuckin' birthday?" So now I get to pour guilt all over the depression. Happy fuckin' birthday to me.

But it will pass in a few days and it'll get back to normal, but now I have to suffer my annual punishment for being alive. Fuck.

It will pass, farmboy...

Yeah, well, in the meantime I've got Halloween candy and potato chips and pizza and marijuana calling my name. Oh, it's just a wonderful thing to celebrate your birth!

Get me away from this. I don't want to destroy myself because of a fuckin' present. I am so fuckin' stupid.

I gotta go, man. I got a supermarket waiting for me.

Take care of yourself, farmboy. This really is a small thing.

I know. It's just this feeling that I don't fuckin' matter and that I'm guilty of...something...



Saturday, October 30, 2010

Boo fuckin' hoo


I gotta tell you, man, this songwriting thing is so fuckin' difficult sometimes, It just ain't fair, man, it's just not right. I mean, I've devoted my life to this stuff and what do I get? An imagination that needs a jump start, that's what. On top of everything else, the writing is just so fuckin',,,

Farmboy, stop and listen to yourself.

Um...

Let me ask you: What advice would you give yourself? What would you say to yourself?

Well...actually, I'd say something like...like...boo fuckin' hoo, man, cowboy up and stop yer whining, farmboy. Here you have the blessing of music in your life, you're gifted with friends and family and an artistic passion and you try writing for ten minutes and you're fuckin' bawling like a fuckin' baby.

Okay. Now let's move on.

Move on? But I'm not finished beating myself up for a few minutes of frustration!

Yes you are. Move on, farmboy.

(grumbles) Okay. But I'm not happy about this and I'm not doing this by my own choice.



Friday, October 29, 2010

These chance encounters


Hey, I had an adventure, man. I took the bus downtown and went to a Sufjan Stevens concert at this big old fancy theater.

That's great, farmboy. How was it?

Oh, it was a great show. Unfortunately, there's not much leg room there, so I was in physical pain for much of the concert. But the music and projections on the screen and the whole spectacle of Sufjan with a 10 piece band was pretty fuckin' wonderful. The seats were good and the opening act -- a guy named D.M. Sith -- was really good and really well received.

But you know what was really cool? I went by myself, but the people next to me were great and so I got to have friends for the concert. I love that. You know, the chance meeting of people. That's the great thing about going by yourself somewhere or travelling by yourself -- you get these chance encounters that are pretty fuckin' great.

Nice folks. Two college students named Tyler and Allie.

So it was a good night. And, with that, I'm going to bid you a good night.

Hey, farmboy...

Yeah?

I'm glad you went and I'm glad you had a good time.

Thanks, man. It's also payday and a friend gave me some weed. It's been a good day, man.



Wednesday, October 27, 2010

It's a fuckin' colloquialism


The people upstairs from me, I can hear their music. It's actually not real loud, but, you know, there's this thunk-thunk bass sound that comes in. And it's not to that level where it's really an issue. I'd really just rather hear silence.

It's not nearly as bad as hearing, you know, loud fucking going on. My last neighbor, hoo boy, he had a party night right before he moved out. I would have never expected it from him. He was a quiet sort.

Hoo boy?

Um, yeah. It's a fuckin' colloquialism, Give me a break, man.

No, I have the answer!

To what?

Hoo boy.

Okay. What is it?

Pete Townsend.

What?

Who boy. Pete Townsend. Get it, farmboy? Who boy?

Jeez.



Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Low-key is okay with me


Feeling any better, farmboy?

Right now I feel fine, thanks for asking. It comes and goes and I worry about it, 'cause that's what I do. I'm good at worrying.

If it's having to do with an ulcer, you are good at worrying.

Har har. Funny guy.

Hey, you know what?

No. What?

It's my birthday!

Really?

Yeah.

Happy birthday, farmboy!

Thanks.

What did you do?

Not much, but I took the day off work and I got some nice phone messages from people. I smoked some weed and bought Thai food takeout and went CD shopping, but I only bought this EP by Telekinesis. I played guitar and ate foods I like. I listened to This American Life. But I really didn't feel good physically for most of the day.

But it was still a good day. Low-key, but good. Which is just fine with me. Between work and company and gigs, I haven't had the alone time that I need. So I got that plus the cool messages and Thai food and shit. I don't need to fuckin' party or fuss or anything. Low-key is okay with me.

What are you going to do now?

Eat some Thai food. Happy birthday to me!



Monday, October 25, 2010

The culprit here


How are you feeling, farmboy? Last time we talked your stomach was hurting.

It still is. It's an on-and-off thing and it's not as bad as Saturday, thank God. But it hurt like a fuckin' sonovabitch this morning, like at 3 a.m. I ended up calling in sick at work, and I'm having problems sleeping. I'll just have to go to the doctor if it doesn't get better. It was pretty good this afternoon, but I started feeling it while I was at the grocery store. So I just took some medicine and now I'm drinking water and eating something. I haven't eaten for a while, so that may be contributing.

What are you eating?

Oh, just some bread and butter.

How's the music going?

I haven't been playing much today, but I just got finished playing. I'm working on a new song, but I'm not sure what it's about yet.

So I'm staying home tomorrow...

That's a good idea, I think. You need rest. You've been busy and your life has been stressful, especially at work.

Yeah. That's what I kinda think might really be the culprit here, the job stress. But I'm hoping that will be over soon.

Will you let me know how you're doing tomorrow?

I will, man, I will.

Hang in there, farmboy.

Thanks. I will.




Saturday, October 23, 2010

...and see what happens


I don't feel so good.

Do you think you're sick, farmboy?

Oh, I know I'm sick. My stomach hurts, like I get this kinda-sharp pains. Medium pains. And then they go away for awhile and then they comes back. I don't know if it's my fuckin' pre-ulcer condition, which I was diagnosed with quite awhile back. But I'm gonna eat something and go to bed and get actual, real sleep and see what happens.

Did you eat anything funny?

I had lunch with my brothers and their wives up at the falls in the lodge. I had a reuben sandwich with the sauerkraut on the side. I'm not a big fan of sauerkraut. It really wasn't very good, and maybe that's contributing to my current condition.

So you're going to get a good night's sleep? Sounds like a good plan, farmboy.

I'm gonna wait and see what fuckin' happens, man.



Friday, October 22, 2010

The kind of stuff we don't talk about


So it's Friday night and you're home at about 11 o'clock. Did you go to the coffeehouse?

No. My older brother and his wife drove up from Southern California so I went to my younger brother's house to see them.

Was it fun?

Yeah, it was good. It's funny, though, being with your siblings because -- for me, I ain't talking about anybody else -- I get this rebellious thing going on.

(The interviewer rolls his eyes) Really? I can't believe it!

Yeah, well, fuck you too.

Yeah, I don't know why that's there. It was a good night, but, you know, they talk about the past and the bad memories and I don't want to hear it. I mean, I don't get mad and stuff, I just try to counteract that kind of shit. It was all unusual, because usually that's the kind of stuff we don't talk about.

But overall it is great to see them. I'm fortunate because I feel I'm blessed to have this family I dearly love. Really.

How long are they staying, farmboy?

The weekend.

That's a long drive for just a weekend.

I know! It's a long fuckin' drive, man. But I'm not real fond of driving, myself. I get too fuckin' anxious.

We're going out to lunch tomorrow and I think they're gonna see me play that night.

Sounds like a good time, farmboy.

Yeah, it'll be good.



Thursday, October 21, 2010

One of the good guys


200 times! I still can't believe it. I mean, not to belabor it or anything, but shit man, 200 times! That's a lot of talkin', you know?

Yes it is. I remember you back then. You were really unsure at first and kept yourself at arm's length. It took a lot for you to trust me...

Well, I...

I know what you're thinking. There's a part of you that still doesn't trust me.

Um, yeah. I'm sorry. I really am.

Don't worry about it. I know it's hard for you to trust.

I like you, though. I mean, I really like you. You're one of the good guys, you know? And I thank you for listening. You've done everything right.

Wait a minute. I haven't done everything right. Far from it. I've made some mistakes in our interviews...

Our conversations...

I was trying to get you moving sometimes and my ideas would backfire or...I needed to get to know you better, farmboy. And I feel like I have. But I think there's a lot more that I don't know.

Fuck, man, there's a whole lot of stuff about me that I don't fuckin' know, you know?

You know what I think?

No. What, farmboy?

I think we're gonna be finding out together. Thanks, man.

You're a smart one, farmboy. I'm proud of you.

Really?

Yes.

(surprised) Wow...



Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Fuck, man, 200 times


Guess what today is, farmboy?

I don't even care what day it is if it's not FrIday.

You might care about this...

Okay, I'll bite. What day is it?

Today marks the 200th time that we've talked.

You're fuckin' kidding! Wow! Fuck, man, 200 times. That's amazing!

I thought so.

Yeah, man, I like this.

You've been a good friend. Thank you for listening to me whine and complain all the time.

I've also listened to your dreams and ideas, about music and other topics.

But mainly music, right?

Yes, farmboy. Mainly music.

The way it should be.

Here's to another 200 -- and more -- times!

Yeah! Where's the bong?



Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Lassoing tumbleweeds


Hey, farmboy, tell me about yourself.

You know, mister-interviewer-sir, that's all I ever fuckin' do. Talk about myself. Man, I just get
to jabbering when I talk to you sometimes. It's "poor farmboy, life ain't fair, work sucks, nobody listens to my music" all the fuckin' time.

Jeez. Touchy...

You tell me something.

About yourself?

No,, no! Leave me out of it. Tell me something about you.

I just would like to ask you sometimes about your past, family, school. About things that have nothing to do with music.

Everything has something to do with music. I'm not sure there's really any separation of the two. At least for me. I can't speak for anybody else.

But, yeah, sure, you can ask me about those things. But first, tell me something about yourself.

My first job involved lassoing tumbleweeds for the United States Navy.

Are you serious? Lassoing tumbleweeds? That's crazy!

We're you good at it?

I got good at it.

I bet. Can I use that in a song?

You betcha, farmboy.

Cool.



Monday, October 18, 2010

It's a lot of work being obsessed


Oh, man, another week. Friday is so fuckin' far away. The good thing is that my older brother and his wife are taking the train from southern California to visit up here and that will be a good time.

You know, farmboy, I've noticed that you really don't talk about your family all that much.

I don't talk about much more than music. It's a lot of work being obsessed. I talk too much about my fuckin' job. But mostly it's about music.

Why?

Because I'm obsessed, man. And if you're here to listen to me rattle on and on and on, it's gonna be about music 'cause that's the end result, you know?

I do talk a lot about money, 'cause that's always a problem. I don't talk much about my family because that's usually not a problem. I get along really well with my family -- two brothers and a sister. We're close and I love them. We've also gotten closer since my father died.

You do talk about that, your father dying...

That's because it was fuckin' traumatic. What's that condition people who come back from war have?

Post-traumatic Stress Syndrome?

Yeah. What I had is kinda like that, in a way. What I have.

But, anyway, let's get back to music, because that's generally safe...and, also, that's what I need help with, you know, figuring out how I'm gonna do this music stuff.

That's what I'm here for. But I'm also here to help you in your personal life, too.

And I appreciate it, pal. But for right now I mainly need help with the music stuff. And...

Yes, farmboy?

(quietly) The mental illness stuff. I need help with that.

I can help.

Good. 'Cause I need to move past it so's I can devote my life to music.

You're obsessed, farmboy.

The only fuckin' way to be, man.



Saturday, October 16, 2010

Threw my head back and fuckin' howled, man!


So, farmboy, how was last night's performance?

It was good, despite being so last minute. I didn't really have any idea of what I was gonna play, or not much of one. It was all very seat-of-the-pants, as a friend of mine would say. I don't really know the reason for that phrase in the performance context, but, you know, there it is. (laughs) Maybe it means I'm just covering my ass.

I sang well, I used the microphone well, I got to be very intimate when I wanted and there were times when was so confident that I backed away from the microphone and threw my head back and fuckin' howled, man! Yep, farmboy the Chicano bluegrass singer. Ay, dios mio!

I can imagine it a little bit. You're a tenor...

Oh, man, believe me, if I could sing like those guys...Make me a mixture of Ralph Stanley and Ricky Skaggs, see if I care. But, you know, I'm not from the South and I didn't grow up playing in a family band at a Baptist church, you know. But I love that style of singing. I wish somebody would tell me I'm good at it, so I could do it more often.

Did it get your mind off your troubles?

A little bit. It was good, I'm glad I did it. If nothing else I got a little money, enough for an eighth of an ounce of weed. So I'm glad.

I know I should put that money towards something else, but it's music money, you know? I'm counting it as extra. At least this month.

I'm happy to hear that you were comfortable enough to sing out.

Yeah, it's surprising to me. Like, I'm doing it and thinking "I'm really doing this." I love that, that taking chances boldly stuff. Man, that is just the fuckin' best.

Boy, I tell you, man, what I really need to do is go on tour for an extended period of time. Or just fuckin' perform for an extended period of time. Get these fuckin' nerves out of my system. 'Cause I can be really good, you know? Last night I was funny, I was serious, people laughed, people were touch. You know, man, I followed this guy who played cello and did a lot of things with loops on his lap top and he had all these wires and things. Which, by the way, I really like. But I decided to go the opposite way, which was to start completely acapella and sing one of my most compassionate and humanistic type songs. And I like that. I love using my performance chops.

Anyway, man, I just looked at the clock and it's time for me to go. I'm going to the coffeehouse to hear an old friend from Southern California play tonight.

Glad the gig went well. Have a great night, farmboy.

You too, man. See ya.



Friday, October 15, 2010

Nothing I do matters


Fuck.

What's wrong, farmboy?

I've been turned down for this credit card I needed. Now I have to worry about how I'm gonna tell people that I can't afford to go to the surprise birthday party that I basically planned. It also means I don't know how I'm gonna pay my car registration or afford clothes that I desperately need. Fuck. It's always fuckin' money, man, people are always waiting at the door with their fuckin' hands wide open.

I can't borrow any money, I don't have enough credit for this shit and...I don't know. I mean, if nothing else, my friend will have a nice party and some people will be pissed off at me. But people are always pissed off at me anyway. It doesn't matter what the fuck I do.

So what's the worst that can happen?

Um...just what I said. People will be pissed off at me. I won't see my friend. Damn. Fuck.

Farmboy, I wish I could help...

I wish you could, too.

Damn, I just don't know. I'm so tired of racking my brain all the fuckin' time about money, 'cause, fuck, nothing I do matters. Man,I don't get it. I'm a good person. I work fuckin' special ed, for Chrissake. Man, I don't know.

And now I'm playing in a couple hours and...well, that's probably okay, 'cause maybe it'll get my mind off this money shit.

I know you hate getting asked this...

Which means you're gonna ask it anyway.

Will you be getting paid for tonight's gig?

Yeah, but not a whole lot. But it is getting paid, and it is money that I sorely need. I do hate being asked that, by the way. In some way, I usually get paid. But people always expect you to play for free, and people usually have no problem asking you what your financial situation with money is. People have no fuckin' boundaries any more. But that's another topic for another time.

You know, I can pay my rent, food, utilities, car insurance, renter's insurance...fuck! Damn! I don't want to worry any more. I don't want to be angry any more. But...you know...

I know it's hard, farmboy.

Yeah. damn it! I'm so fuckin' angry and tired and hungry and...I'm just so fuckin' frustrated. I'm sorry you have to hear all this stuff, man...

That's why I'm here. It'll all be okay. I know that's not a lot of help right now, but it's true.

I know. And thanks. That is true. I need to remember that.

I better go. I need to make up a set list. I have no idea of what I want to play.

Play what you feel like playing, farmboy.

Okay, now I have to figure out what I feel like playing. Which means I have to figure out what I feel. And right now I feel defeated, and I don't want to give that message to an audience, you know.

You'll get it, farmboy. The set list, I mean.

Yeah, I know.

You okay?

Yeah. (laughs) No worries.

I'm always here to talk to.

Thanks. I do appreciate that. And I just might do that if I feel I need to.

Good.

Have a good time performing, farmboy. Remember...

Remember what?

You were born to create music. And you get to do that tonight.

Yeah. That's true. I was born to create music. I forget sometimes.

Do you really?

(laughs) Well, no. I always know my purpose on this planet.



Thursday, October 14, 2010

I mean, like, real sadness


Hey, man, I got the new Sufjan Stevens CD today.

I don't know him. Should I?

He's really great. He's real ambitious. He can break your heart sometimes.

I've seen you do that, farmboy.

I love sadness in songs. I mean, like, real sadness. That's just the best thing in the world. People are always saying that they can't listen to something because it's so depressing. I hate that. You know, one of the things that music is designed for is to comfort you when you're sad, to express that sadness, you know? But instead we're so fuckin' afraid of our sadness. Even in art. Well fuck that.

I mean, I don't want self-pity, I don't want whining. What I want is the expression of feelings and thoughts inside me.

That's what you do.

Yeah. I'm one of the lucky ones.



Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Night sky full of stars


So, on my computer I have this new, uh...I don't know what you call it...

Explain it to me, farmboy.

It's what you see when your computer's on but you're not connected to anything, like the internet or iTunes or something.

The desktop?

Yeah, I think so.

Anyway, I have this new picture as my desktop and it makes me really happy when I see it.

What's it of?

It's a night sky full of stars. And near the bottom, standing on the earth, are Calvin and Hobbes.

The Bill Watterson comic strip? The kid and the tiger?

Yeah.

I love that comic strip.

Oh, yeah, me too. It's, like, the best ever.

So, anyway, Calvin and Hobbes are silent, and just staring at all these stars in the blackness of the sky.

And just seeing that, uh, desktop thing just makes me happy and...I'm not sure how to define it...safe or loved...or something. Wonder.

And in a world that we human beings keep fuckin' up, that feeling is so fuckin' great, like life is worth living and life is a great privilege.

Now that's a good comic strip.

Fuckin' right, man.



Monday, October 11, 2010

The responsible one


Rough day?

Oh, it's over with now. I mean, all of the fuckin' staff in the fuckin' classroom called in sick. And actually one, Queen Bitch, didn't even call in, so there was no fuckin' substitute for her, Fuckin' three day weekend wasn't enough for them. What the fuck? I mean, I made it in. Other people in the school made it in. But the whole staff of a classroom? Jesus. Why do I always have to be the responsible one? Fuck this shit.

So I practiced, I played today, but, fuck, I have hardly any energy between my job and this other thing that's going on, I'm so fuckin' tired. And all I ever do is complain to you, and that's not what you're here for...

I'm here to help you, farmboy. And if that means hearing about your job --

Uh, no. I don't want to discuss my fuckin' job. It's me that doesn't want to talk about that. Time is precious and I want to spend it talking about music, figuring that stuff out, figuring out how to make music my life and to improve my life with music, how to get it out there, how to get my songs heard by whoever.

Okay. But it's okay to talk about stuff...What's this other thing that's happening?

Oh, that...that's just this surprise party that I'm helping to plan. But, fuck, I end up doing all sorts of stuff. But it's for a friend of mine, a good friend, one of my very best friends, and doing this work will be worth it because I know that he'll be touched a lot by it. So that's worth all the work and hassles.

You know, it's just that I'm feeling under so much fuckin' pressure all the fuckin' time. Work pressure, big time financial pressure...Existential pressure. It's fucked. I'm fucked.

You're going to go to bed in a few hours, you know. Just rest up, farmboy. You've played music, you've worked, you deserve some peace. Do you need to take a clonazepam?

No. But I would like to smoke some weed. And I'm going to.

You know, I think that might be okay tonight.

You disapprove of it, don't you?

Let's not discuss that right now. Sometimes I think it would be good for you to not smoke as much as you do, but I'm definitely not against marijuana. And how much you smoke -- that's up to you.

But let's not talk about that. Let's talk about music. Your music.

Well, I'm playing in a couple weeks, and then a couple weeks after that,, and then a week later...

That's great!

What's really great is that I want to write. I want to write more songs and I want to record and I want to work and not be afraid of working because of money and not be distracted because of all these other hassles. I want to do music.

And you will. And you are.

And I am. But I need to convince myself that it's my first priority.

And that's happening, too, farmboy.

'Bout time.



Sunday, October 10, 2010

Easy thinking


Hey, man, I'm just checking in. Tomorrow is Monday -- or, as I like to say, fuckin' Monday -- and I just kinda need to settle down then go to bed. Which kinda sucks, but, you know, maybe I'll get some time to just lie there, or lay there, or whatever, and listen to some music and do some easy thinking.

Oh, your beautiful three-day-weekend is over.

Yeah. I ain't gonna think about it, though. I'm just gonna chill out.

Sounds good, farmboy. Good night.

Good night to you, man.



Saturday, October 9, 2010

Still fuckin' learning stuff


Hi, farmboy. Do you know what time it is?

It's 4:35 a.m.

Oh. It's a bad time. I'll come back later.

No, no, that's okay. What's going on in your young life?

Hey, I'm not young. I mean, I'm far from young. Seriously far from young. Old, in fact.

Yeah, yeah, whatever. What brings you here, farmboy? Did something happen?

I fell asleep.

No, nothing happened. It's funny, I just don't like going for too long without getting to talk with you, and I didn't get to talk to you 'cause I fell asleep.

So, how you doin'?

I'm good. I'm enjoying the rain.

Me too. I love the sound of rain, It kinda makes me wish I still smoke tobacco, I would love to go outside and smoke a cigarette,

Man, I'm reading this great book now, Composed by Rosanne Cash. It's a memoir. She's talking about her childhood and it's fascinating to me. It's so weird, man, I see these connections between our fathers. She talks about her father making her a list of 100 songs she should know.
Me, I realize I got my father's music, these records of Ray Price and Jimmie Rodgers and Hank Williams. Always Hank Williams.

Anyway, it's a really good book.

And it's a rainy day, which is great for reading.

Hey, you know -- I'm changing the subject here --

Fine with me.

That so funny that you talked about being young. Because I feel young. I, like, never feel old. Ever.

You know...I feel innocent. I feel like I'm still fuckin' learning stuff.

Let me tell you what I do. When I start thinking or say "I'm old," I change it to "I'm alive." It's corny, but it can be helpful.

It is corny. But I'll probably give it a try or two, regardless.



Thursday, October 7, 2010

The only thing I really trust


This fuckin' day, my fuckin' job. Man, it's a good thing I've got music in my life. It seems like every fuckin' thing that's not music just goes completely wrong. Music may be the only thing I really trust, you know. Well, that and God, but I'm not going into that. I figure that's between me and God and nobody else has to fuckin' know about it.

But, man, the fuckin' amount of stress my job gives me...Jesus! Man, I just don't want to think about that stuff when I'm not there and I don't want to obsess about it. I don't know if I should take a fuckin' anxiety pill or what. I'm already high, as I'm sure you can tell, and I'm fuckin' glad.

A coworker today basically called me a liar because I wasn't supporting her on her fuckin' tirade. I mean, I know I need to let it go, and it doesn't fuckin' matter what anyone thinks about me -- especially at my stupid cocksucking fuckin' place of employment -- but it's fuckin' hard. I need to take refuge in music, but instead I'm fuckin' obsessing over all this fuckin' little unimportant shit. I'm wasting time and energy that could be spent on music.

Hey, farmboy?

Yeah?

Look, I'm not going to tell you what to do, but I strongly suggest you take a clonazepam.

(farmboy looks for his clonazepam for a good five minutes or so, with no luck)

I can't find it. I'm trying not to panic. It should be in the drawer where I keep medications and important stuff, but it's not there.

Man, I just want to relax and eat something and surf the internet and play guitar and enjoy this three-day-weekend I'm having...

So do that. Go eat something and do all that stuff. Take a break from looking. You'll find your pills.

Okay. All right. Thanks, man.

Have a good night, farmboy.



Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Combat


Man, there has been so much going on, I don't know where to start. But I'm gonna start by self-editing, you know, verbal triage.

Huh?

You know, the inverted triangle. The most important stuff first, and maybe only.

I've got nothing but time, farmboy.

Yeah, but...You know, I really only want to talk about two of them.

Whatever you say. I'm here.

First off, I'm loving this new song I'm working on. I've had the lyrics for a couple months, but I'm doing the rewriting thing with it. And it's got this new melody I really like, and I really like the guitar part, even though I wrote it to be played on the piano. And now that there's this piano at work, I can try that. too.

That's great, farmboy. You sound excited.

What's the second thing?

My health insurance co-pays are going down to $10 a visit. So I'm thinking -- just considering it right now -- getting some, well, therapy. Going to a counselor or something, you know, a licensed social worker person, like, maybe, twice a month. To talk about my music and my hesitancy to take it out much,,,well, maybe not "take it out" but talk about the business part and my hesitancy there.

My not believing in myself. I believe strongly in the music, but...

In your music, farmboy.

Yeah. My music.

Also, I want to combat...

Combat?

...the fuckin' mental illness.

I'd seriously consider it, farmboy.

Believe me. I am.



Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Stress reduction time, for sure


What's up, farmboy?

Everything but my paycheck! (laughs)

That's pretty funny.

I'm just trying to not get too fuckin' stressed out. In a weird way, I'm actually succeeding. Especially in a little while, when I drive to my friend's house to buy some weed. Then it will be stress reduction time, for sure.

What's stressing you out?

Work, for one thing. They keep wanting me to be in two places at once, which is fuckin' impossible. But I don't want to pay any more attention to my fuckin' job than I have to.

The other thing is this surprise party I'm planning for a friend of mine, but I think it's getting taken care of. It was looking a little bit out of control, but fuck it, y'know? It'll get done and it'll be good, and at least I'm planning it for the right reasons.

Which are?

It's for a really good friend of mine that I've known for years, and it will be a good time for everybody.

Sounds like you've got things under control, farmboy.

I better. I'm so fuckin' tired of being stressed out.

I bet.

Yeah, for sure.

Listen, I have to make a phone call and I want to play at least one song on the guitar. It pisses me off when these things take attention away from my music. I mean, it really pisses me off.

As well it should.

I know. In a way, I'm glad that it pisses me off...

It means you have your priorities right.

That's for fuckin' sure, man.



Sunday, October 3, 2010

Tired of my own inaction


Hey, man.

Hey, farmboy. What have you been doing this weekend?

Saw this great movie called The Social Network.

The movie about Facebook?

Yeah. It was really good. I'd like to see it again, and I hardly ever see movies twice. Maybe I'll even buy it when it comes out on DVD, but it would depend on the extras. I almost never buy DVDs. Really, I've kinda been trying to cut down on buying things, you know.

That's smart in this economy.

Well, that's only part of it. You know, like it's what's inside your mind after you've read a book...I don't know if I'm explaining it right, but I bet you know what I mean.

I do. I can relate.

Anyway, it was a great movie, just fascinating.

Also, I did some cleaning...

You??? You hate cleaning!

I hate cleaning and I live in a mess. I also hate living in a mess.

It was kinda a thing of being tired of my own inaction. You know, I feel like I'm always making plans to clean, but I never actually do it. I feel like I do that with everything. I'm always making fuckin' plans and I was feeling like I never ever really do anything. So I did something. And, I have to tell you, man, I've felt good all afternoon.

So I'm thinking I need to apply this thinking to my music. Figure out what I want and how to get it.

Great! You can start bouncing ideas off me, and I can help you make a plan.

But I'm always making plans!

But you still need to. We'll figure out actions also.

Okay. Yeah!

I'm holding you to this, farmboy.

I'm holding myself to this, too.



Saturday, October 2, 2010

Welcome to show business


Farmboy, how was your performance at the coffeehouse last night?

Man, I played well and I was more relaxed than usual...

Usually you're a bundle of nerves, right?

Yeah, I'm a fuckin' bundle of a whole lot of fuckin' nerves, but I was okay, you know. I played and sang well, did all my own songs, but ...you know,I guess my newer stuff would go over better. Seems like, even in my own little world, all anybody really wants to hear is the old stuff.

Welcome to show business, farmboy.

Hey, why do people who are not in show biz always have to tell performers what show biz is?

Sorry.

No, no, you're allowed to. You are the audience, after all.

And you're right. People want to hear what's familiar. And, really, I'm no different. If I go see, say, Al Green, I'm going to be disappointed if he doesn't sing "Let's Stay Together" and "Tired of Being Alone." Maybe it sorta surprises me because I'm like this virtually unknown guy with a guitar. I guess in a way that it's a sort of compliment.

I mean, the last thing that I want to do is blame the audience.

You know, I'm glad we're talking about this. 'cause I'm seeing it a little more clearly now. Now it doesn't seem so bad. Thanks.

It's good sometimes to really look at what's really going on.

Yeah, 'cause otherwise I can get lost in my own emotions.

So no cover tunes?

No. I wanted to, but I ended up doing my own stuff. "Cept for, um...

What, farmboy?

I played a little of "Take Me Out to the Ball Game," and the audience sang it, then I sang it in this way where you start with the second word on the first note and go from there. It was funny. People liked it. It was during the little lull in the show while tuning was going on.

So, would you say it was a successful night?

Yeah, it was good. It's always good when I'm not terrified and I don't forget the words.