Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Making Perfect Cents

I worked at Carls Jr. Fast Food Restaurant at age 16. My first day on the job, I loaded frozen burgers and chicken into a charbroiled for 8 hours. I got one 30-minute break for lunch and 2 15-minute breaks between. This was California State Law. I never thought 15 minutes could go so quickly. They put me on a register my second day. They must have suspected that I was good with money. They were right. I kept all my bills same side up and facing the same way. Those of you who work at a register know that you don’t often get them that way. And you don’t see many register tenants keeping them straight. Not even the bank tellers. Which I find rather odd. If you entire job were to keep track of money, you’d think you would want to be a bit more organized.

My register was always accurate to the penny. I didn’t make this a goal, it just happened this way. I wasn’t paying attention until the 10th time or so when the shift supervisor pointed it out to me. After that, I was more conscious of it and wanted to maintain that reputation. I would go to work with a few pennies in my pocket. Totals often come to be a few cents short of a round number, and it’s nice not to have to always make .98 cents change at the expense of two cents. It was my idea adjust the pricing to make more totals come out to the nearest quarter or dime. Chipotle would adopt my idea 20 years later.

One time I had a nice looking couple come to my register. A black man and white women, a mixed race couple was not nearly as common in the 80’s. The black man order 1 large vanilla shake, and the white woman order chocolate. Their order made cents.

The manager hired me without any discussion of the length of my hair. I guess they didn’t call my hairstyle a mullet back then. I didn’t realize it would ultimately be considered so silly, although my elders had to have known. My mullet seems so innocent compared to what the kids are doing these days. After a month or so on the job, that same manager started giving me grief about my mullet. He told me to cut it. One time he said, ‘If I can’t have my hair long, then you can’t either.” What a prick that guy was. Ricardo was his name. I was stuffing my hair into the baseball cap that was part of my Carl’s Jr. costume. A quick twist of my hair made it go away and it didn’t even look like it was there (to me). I had no plans on cutting my hair. I could get another (better) job easily and I soon would.

One of the girls that worked there soon became my girlfriend. She went to the same high school that I did. Her whole face lit up when we saw each other. Later I found out her whole face lit up when she say any male. It wasn’t long before everyone there knew we were together. It didn’t seem to bother anyone.

Unknown to me at the time, she may have been working the manager Ricardo a little bit. Not necessarily to get anything in particular, I think it was just her way. Once at the end of a shift, Ricardo counted out my register drawer. It was usually a shift supervisor, not the store manager. At one point, Ricardo asked me to step out and get a pencil or something. The orientation video specifically mentioned that employees must be present and paying attention while someone is counting out my drawer. My drawer was always accurate to the penny. And this guy wouldn’t the audacity swipe money out of my drawer….. Right? He’s the manager for crying out loud. Wrong, when he finished counting, my drawer was $3.26 short. The Carl’s Jr. Restaurant manual said that anything over $3 resulted in a ‘write up.’ Excuse my French, but was a cocksucker. He didn’t steal $20 from my drawer, he just grabbed enough to constitute a write up. I don’t know what he had against me. I was always on time, and my register was always on.

8 years later, I was bartending at the hottest nightclub in town. I was so lucky to have this position. Sure enough, one night I looked up and saw Ricardo. I ignored him for a while. I thought about how I should handle the situation. After passing him up several times at the non-stop chaotic bar, I finally stopped in front of him and look him dead in the eyes. Often I never said anything to a customer; it was so fast paced that just looking at someone meant, “what can I get for you.” I’d be surprised if he didn’t recognize me, but he played it cool and ordered 4 drinks for his group. I recall him ordering a gin and tonic for himself. I delivered his drinks and took his money. I never saw him again. Bar’s typically don’t keep pennies in the register. I gave him the correct change.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Thank The Universe for Technology and Economic Downturns

Thank the universe for the economic downturn. My freelance money-earning machine is idling and I have suddenly found myself with time for the important stuff. As a reminder to those of you that may have met me outside my musical artistic quest, I am first and foremost a self-produced songwriter. Although, now that I have some more perspective, I should have dropped the songwriter part long ago. I believe songwriters tell stories. What I do, is create an unusual musical landscape, and then let my thoughts out vocally. Whatever comes out is recorded these days, but originally I had to stop strumming and use a pencil. Then I keep what I like and discard the rest. I guess it’s called introspective. Radiohead is one of the most famous bands with introspective lyrics.

I am pleased that technology has finally caught up with my desires. I never wanted to rehearse to a metronome because they were always so rigid and ugly sounding. Now, I basically tempo map my tunes in logic, and then dropped in a groovy high hat with feel, or a ride cymbal. SO MUCH BETTER and inspiring. (I wonder if Justin Timberlake would lose points in sex appeal if he said things like tempo map and bounced down) Then I bounced them all down and put them on my iPhone. so when I want to rehearse, I just dial up the song title. it gives me 4 bars or 4 and a programmed a triangle to cue me on the 5th bar. Some tunes slow down or speed up in the chorus, so It’s important that I start n measure 5 and play all the parts in order.

I really missed playing my tunes on acoustic guitar. I haven’t really rehearsed or played regularly since I moved to NYC and toured across the country. After a 4-week tour, I really noticed my chops had improved. It’s not that I haven’t wanted to play or haven’t had time; I’ve just been concentrating on recording all this time. What a project it has been. Again, technology has finally awarded me the easy to access and affordable and versatile drum loops I have been longing for. Recording drums and dealing with drummers is such a pain in the ass. When you find a good drummer that’s easy to work with and fun to be around it’s like a dream come true, but those guys are few and far between. The good ones are in demand. There are a lot of ass holes that think they are drummers because they can keep a few beats. But I suppose that same logic applies to me, I think I’m an artist because I can finish a recording. Wait, I am an artist. OK, so you guys aren’t ass holes if you can only keep a few beats. I guess my syncopated dynamic style just requires quite a bit more experience from a drummer.

I am so happy with Beautiful Self-Destruction. After shutting down the machine for a year and then coming back to it with fresh ears, I was delighted and inspired to finish it. It’s still so disappointing to hear it on small systems or as poor quality mp3’s. AND I completely burnt out on it by the time it went to mastering that I hated it again. But I’m pressing forward with promotion. I’m not going to ever stop promoting this album. I’ve got some truly original dynamic hand crafted tunes on this record. It’s flows perfectly, it’s got a little bit of everything I like, and it sounds good.

Thank The Universe

Thank the universe for the economic downturn. My freelance money-earning machine is idling and I have suddenly found myself with time for the important stuff. As a reminder to those of you that may have met me outside my musical artistic quest, I am first and foremost a self-produced songwriter. Although, now that I have some more perspective, I should have dropped the songwriter part long ago. I believe songwriters tell stories. What I do, is create an unusual musical landscape, and then let my thoughts out vocally. Whatever comes out is recorded these days, but originally I had to stop strumming and use a pencil. Then I keep what I like and discard the rest. I guess it’s called introspective. Radiohead is one of the most famous bands with introspective lyrics.

I am pleased that technology has finally caught up with my desires. I never wanted to rehearse to a metronome because they were always so rigid and ugly sounding. Now, I basically tempo map my tunes in logic, and then dropped in a groovy high hat with feel, or a ride cymbal. SO MUCH BETTER and inspiring. (I wonder if Justin Timberlake would lose points in sex appeal if he said things like tempo map and bounced down) Then I bounced them all down and put them on my iPhone. so when I want to rehearse, I just dial up the song title. it gives me 4 bars or 4 and a programmed a triangle to cue me on the 5th bar. Some tunes slow down or speed up in the chorus, so It’s important that I start n measure 5 and play all the parts in order.

I really missed playing my tunes on acoustic guitar. I haven’t really rehearsed or played regularly since I moved to NYC and toured across the country. After a 4-week tour, I really noticed my chops had improved. It’s not that I haven’t wanted to play or haven’t had time; I’ve just been concentrating on recording all this time. What a project it has been. Again, technology has finally awarded me the easy to access and affordable and versatile drum loops I have been longing for. Recording drums and dealing with drummers is such a pain in the ass. When you find a good drummer that’s easy to work with and fun to be around it’s like a dream come true, but those guys are few and far between. The good ones are in demand. There are a lot of ass holes that think they are drummers because they can keep a few beats. But I suppose that same logic applies to me, I think I’m an artist because I can finish a recording. Wait, I am an artist. OK, so you guys aren’t ass holes if you can only keep a few beats. I guess my syncopated dynamic style just requires quite a bit more experience from a drummer.

I am so happy with Beautiful Self-Destruction. After shutting down the machine for a year and then coming back to it with fresh ears, I was delighted and inspired to finish it. It’s still so disappointing to hear it on small systems or as poor quality mp3’s. AND I completely burnt out on it by the time it went to mastering that I hated it again. But I’m pressing forward with promotion. I’m not going to ever stop promoting this album. I’ve got some truly original dynamic hand crafted tunes on this record. It’s flows perfectly, it’s got a little bit of everything I like, and it sounds good.

Monday, April 20, 2009

i am american

I never paid attention in history class. I blame it on too much sugar in my diet. Lots of Coke and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. In High school, I ate them for breakfast and Lunch. We ate dinner as a family until I got my drivers license. Then I ate taco bell or Burger King for Lunch. Not because I liked it for the taste, but I loved the convenience. The breakfast items in high school were garbage anyway, so I may as well have chocolate for breakfast.

I never paid attention in history class. It seemed more like fiction than fact. Vikings, Ice Age, The Holocaust. I was middle class suburban kid. None of this was the slightest bit real. Who could imagine such things? My dad was in Vietnam. (When a 30-something American says this, they are referring to The Vietnam War.) He in flew a helicopter. He never really talks about it, but then yet, I’ve been afraid to ask. My grandmother says he doesn’t like to talk about it. My dad then became a fireman. My dad knows death. He’s seen it, first hand, several times. I don’t know death. A close friend to my mom’s side of the family died when I was 10 and that was my first funeral. I didn’t go to see the body with everyone else. I never heard my mom cry so hard, except maybe when my dad left when I was 5.

As an adult, History is a most fascinating subject to me. World history, US history, Presidential history. It’s interesting to see how history repeats itself. I’ve always been fascinated with Time Travel. So imagining what it would be like to go back in time is especially fun. With the current state of the economy, I’ve been researching economic history. Following the parallels of the great depression and what’s happening today. They’ve done a ton of movies about people who go forward in time to pick stocks, or football game winners, then return to present to place bets. What if we were tracing the curve set back in the 1930’s. It would be easy to make a ton of money, assuming you had some money to bet in the first place.

My grandmother was 6 years old when her dad lost his job in the depression. I told her we were headed for another one and she said it wouldn’t happen again because we have all sorts of gadgets now. As if the gadgets will feed us when the circulation of money stops.

I was born in America at the end of a millennium. Things have been good. I’ve struggled to make things better when maybe I should have just enjoying what I had. A lot of you have a similar story. It’s probably part of being human.

How will history reflect our reality? What’s going to happen in the next couple of years? In 500 years, if we haven’t all killed each other yet, people will be looking back at the ‘beginning of the millennium’. Jenn and I watched 60 minutes last night. They had a report about people losing their 401k’s. Most people still have their original invested capitol, but all the money they thought they had made in interest…. is gone. Where did it go? Some of it was never there in the first place due to the housing bubble. The equity wasn’t sustainable. But where did the rest of “their” interest go?

History tells us that really bad things have happened. Really bad things that much of my generation can’t fathom. History also proves that history repeat’s itself. I am not a paranoid conspiracy theorist. (Although I do love good fiction and drama.) The universe is in seek of balance. This American has been really lucky. So lucky and isolated. I am wondering if my time has come to pay for all the luxuries I have enjoyed. If I can’t earn money and I blow thru my savings, I suppose I will have to move where it is warm and live in a tent. No one seems to want to entertain any possibility of serious worldwide tragedy. As if, it could never happen (again). These are the same people who were stunned and scratched their heads on September 12th, 2001. Haven’t any of you studied your history?