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I want to write about something but I can’t settle on what. I kind want to mention the doubt that I still shoulder from time to time but it makes me feel like shit and I’d rather not feel that way now. Oh well.
I want to write about something but I can’t settle on what. I kind want to mention the doubt that I still shoulder from time to time but it makes me feel like shit and I’d rather not feel that way now. Oh well.
“Acid and poison and chemicals, baby,
Is what I mean to provide.
I know together we’ll make the possible,
totally impossible.”
When it comes to music and artistic creativity, writing music has always scared the piss out of me. Every time I’ve ever sat down by myself and said ‘Okay, let me write something,’ I’ve ended up sitting there and plucking at the strings like a dumb ass, nothing ever materializing.
This always worried me in my two previous stints as bass player for two different bands. I’ve just always been afraid of getting together, getting inspired, starting some new material…and then, writers block.
I’m happy to say that this fear is starting to vanish. See, although Fallen on September has been busybusybusy playing shows all over Texas, we have taken a few days to jam and come up with new stuff - and there’s two points I want to make about this.
First - I’m so amazingly excited to have new material to play for everyone that I can say ‘Yeah, I helped create this amazing thing.’ Because everything that Fallen on September has done up to this point is amazing and I am honored, humbled and thankful that I get to step in share these things they’ve worked so hard to create.
And second, each time we’ve gotten together and started playing, something amazing has happened each time. I think we’ve got the fixings of 3 or 4 new songs that each sound so different, so rockin’ but still so Fallen on September. And this has been in maybe 3 or 4 days. I get chills thinking about what is going to happen when it comes time for us to really get into “writing” mode. It’s going to be beautiful.
Mayra, Sergio and Ernie - if you’re reading this, I can’t wait for what the future has in store for us.
Evo. Kekeke.
Alright - this one is for Mayra, Ernie and Sergio. I hope you like it.
Coming Home
We’re 130 miles from home and we’re exhausted. Everyone’s dozing off and I’m very squinty eyed – even the cloudy sky is too bright for my tired eyes. See, last night we played a fun show in San Antonio, (our home away from home, it seems) and didn’t get but four hours of sleep in a sleepy little motel. The music is playing and I’m singing along a little loudly, a trick I use to keep me from getting too sleepy at the wheel. I’m sure my sleeping band-mates hate it. And despite being exhausted beyond words, I’m smiling.
I look over to the passenger seat and there’s Ernie, head rolled back against the head rest. Every once in a while he lets out a loud snore. He looks nothing like I remember him from thirteen years ago. His funny, straight mushroom hair cut has become a bristly set of spikes. His plain, open face has developed its own rock star attitude in the form of a goatee but he is just as friendly as I can recall.
On the center console, sits a pair of dainty little feet. That’s Mayra – she’s dozing back there too with her legs stretched out. I pinch one of her toes and shake it a bit but she doesn’t notice. In the short time that we’ve known each other I’ve never ceased to be amazed at how incredible she is – even here, among three tired, vulgar and often gassy guys, she ties us all together while still being a classy gal. In a lot of ways, I think she sort of defines everything that we’re doing out here, far out of our comfort zones of little old Laredo.
And next to her, dozing with his head on her shoulder is Sergio, who along with Ernie, has proven to me that friendship is made of tough stuff. Indeed, they help me remember that friendship can be born, flourish and eventually wilt a little. Some end. But some, like this one, prove more resilient than many people think. You see, some bonds can burrow deep and sleep a patient sleep until the right moment to spring back up and surprise you – just like this one did.
“Do you remember me?” he asked me that night. I had just finished playing my last show ever with my old band. It was a little sad, but if only I could have looked a year or so ahead then, I would have smiled more that night.
“Yeah, I remember you,” I said. I couldn’t help but notice how strange the question seemed at the time. “You’re Mayra’s boyfriend.”
“Yeah, but you don’t remember me?” I wasn’t entirely sure what the emphasis on that word meant at first, but then I started thinking back, looking at him closer, seeing the shortly cropped hair lengthen and shape itself into a neatly combed (and enthusiastically gelled) hairdo which reminded me of the sometimes goofy ways we did things in the 90’s. I saw him wearing a backpack a little too big for his skinny eleven or twelve year old body. I saw him sitting at the same group of desks that Ernie and I sat at in the third grade, talking with Ernie while I quietly worked on my assignments. I remembered playing touch football with him in the dirt lot that served as our elementary school playground. I remembered.
“Holy shit,” I said. “Sergio Puente, of course I remember.”
And just like that, the friendship that was made some 13 years ago came up out of hibernation and started shaking all of the dust and cobwebs off.
We hit a bump in the road and the truck jumps a little. The U-Haul with all of our equipment rattles behind the truck. Ernie looks around, and asks me if I’m good to drive, maybe fearing that I’m dozing off. I tell him I’m fine. Behind me, Sergio comes out of his nap and kisses Mayra on the side of her forehead. She’s awake too now, and asking me where we are.
“About 90 miles from home,” I say and we fall back into talking to each other, like if we’d never been apart, any of us. Not for thirteen years or even thirteen minutes.
It’s funny. Even out here, in the middle of nowhere with ranches and cattle as far as the eye can see, it feels like I’ve never left.
It feels like I’m home.
May 2010
So, remember how I told you about my vacation last post? Well, here are some of the pictures that were supposed to go along with those words. Thanks to everyone who took the time to hang out with me. Mounik, the band - you guys are the best. And I’m totally down to see Chevelle a hundred more times. Both shows were fuckin’ AWESOME.
So, this last week has been some vacation time. A lot of changes recently, and I think the time off from everything did me good.
First off, last Wednesday, I saw Chevelle live for the first time ever at Stubb’s in Austin. Amazing show! I took Mounik - it was her birthday and we’d been meaning to go to a show together since high school. I also hadn’t seen her in what seemed like ages. It was a lot of fun - we made the most of the two days and went to the show (Caught a guitar pick!) , saw a movie, had dinner, had lunch the following day and bought books. Good time. Also, I think her cat Stella is in love with me.
Then, Friday, Saturday and Sunday were spent in Corpus Christi/Port Aransas with some of my best friends in the world - my band-mates. We saw Chevelle together (“Why do you do that - follow bands around?” - lol ) on Saturday night and it was amazing. Again, I caught a pick - this time from the bass player, Dean. And I got to meet the pretty little lady who fronts Nico Vega. Great show, just as fun.
Sunday was beach day. We spent a good eight or nine hours on the beach swimming, building stuff in the sand, burying people, slinging mud at each other, donning sea-weed wigs and wrestling with the huge waves at high tide.
Good time. I need more of these. So many more.
