The life of a musician: 09/10/09

Day two, as promised...

Thursday Night:

So we slept the night away on Wednesday night, and Thursday morning eventually came. While sleeping in my quarters (remember, it was the couch), I was in for an unexpected surprise. While Houngry/Evvron/Aaron has a beautiful home, the room I was in had an unnecessary amount of windows. Is there such thing as an unnecessary amount of windows you may ask...?

Fuck yes is the answer. I swear that this living room had 4 walls, just like any other house. But this particular room was 24% walls and 76% windows. And not just any windows, I mean big ass windows that are so big it's probably not even safe. How is most of a wall going to be straight window? And on top of all of that, guess what? The fucks that designed the house made sure that during sunrise each day, the sun beamed right into the house! Now that I think about it, those weren't windows, they were giant fucking magnifying glasses.

So as I awaken to the sun on my face, I suddenly realize that it's early in the AM, and I just went to bed at about 4AM. FML. On top of that, the A/C was accidently not turned on, so it's hotter than Jessica Alba in that piece, and I'm sweating like I stole something. The fan is conveniently pointed into Freddy the greedy fucks room, which is 100% protected from the sun. But of course, that inconsiderate fuck had to have the fan. Fuckin' Freddy.

Back to my suffering: so I'm laying there sweating, and I realize that I'm dehydrated. So I'm sweating, tired, and dehydrated, all before 8AM. FML. So I get up and get some water, and I must have looked like a cast member from the show "Lost" because Houngry's dad looks at me like I'm a fucking refugee. Like I've never tasted clean water before or something.

So I get up and take a shower, and when I come out some people are awake. They look all rested and relaxed, those fucks. I'm tired and delirious and these fucks are looking at me like why am I all tore up. Because I was, that's why. Those fucks.

So the first bit of good news, I have a breakfast that was wonderous. That's my word, wonderous, don't be trying to use that shit. We sit down and are eating, and all of the sudden I have a case of burpitis. Now I, for one, am not known for my burping. Guess what, too late. I burped for the rest of this fucking trip. Like an idiot asshole. This trip was fucked since jump street.

Fast forward to the gig. We all get our stuff together and head over to the Conga room. I think that sound check was at about 7PM, if I remember correctly. So we get there, and already I'm impressed with the venue. That place is bad ass. If you're ever in LA, go to the Conga room. It is across the street from the Staples Center. It's the shit. Ok, enough of that.

We get inside and set up our horns and drums and such. The guy who tried to fire us the night before is there, he's basically in charge. He has us go over some of the stuff and with the new trombonist I can see that he's happier than from the previous night. So we go through it, and he seems happy - and dismisses us. We find our way back to the green room and they serve us dinner. At this point I'm starting to get nervous and I can't eat. It's about 2 hours before the show and I'm sitting on the couch behind stage all anxious and restless. I remember thinking to myself "What the fuck is this?" - like what am I doing to myself right now?

After about 20 minutes I calm down, and we hang out and talk and walk around the club's different areas and come back and finally settle down to watch the football game that was on. Now the fun part, time to suit up. These guys are taking for-fucking-ever to get ready. I'm sitting here thinking, are we fucking men or women in here? I sit there for maybe an hour and I'm the last one to get ready. I'm thinking to myself periodically, "put your fucking clothes on and comb your hair and get the fuck out of there." As you can see, I wasn't too happy.

Finally I get my clothes on and I look at the stage from the stairs we enter on. Each time one of us peeks at the stage, all of the girls/ladies/women that are there lined up are screaming because they think we are someone. Then it occurs to me, that we are someone! We are the band. The band that's backing Jerry Rivera up - and that matters. Especially to these girls out there. They are literally freaking out.

So finally it's our time to take the stage. As we walk out there, the place erupts into screams. The sound guy says that there is 1200 people out there, and by the time we get out there, it must be more than that. Maybe 1500? I don't know, maybe more, maybe less. It was so loud as we took the stage, it was deafening. It was the shit. I'd never been on the receiving end of that before, and to be honest, I wouldn't mind doing it again. It was crazy. I reach over and give props to the guys, and we're all amped up, and then the emcee, or whatever it is called, introduces Jerry. Holy shit. There is a video of this that I've posted on my facebook page. Check it out. They count off the song, and a few bars in he comes onto the stage. It was so loud at that point I could barely hear myself, let alone the guys across the stage. That was amazing.

So we play, and we're doing well I'm happy to say. Throughout the night Jerry has these girls jumping up on stage and clawing their way to Jerry. One of them actually falls down and lands on the monitor (the speaker that we use to hear ourselves). She can't even get up until her third try, I'm sure she was hurting the next day. So we have a few songs and then there is a ballad where I am the only horn player that plays, and it happens to be a solo. Cool right? Yeah, except for the fact that it's in F# - which is a totally fucked up key to solo in. One of the worst I'd say. So I pull it off pretty well I think, for not having a clue it was coming until that day, and nothing to practice with and prepare myself.

Throughout the gig there are girls screaming for me to take them backstage, to get them to hang with us after and all of that stuff. I just smiled at them and didn't say anything, because I knew that I wasn't going to be able to help them, what can you say? "I'm sorry bitches, I can't help you." It was crazy. How do people live that life I'll never know. Jerry must have 100 babies running around somewhere. I mean, these girls were just about begging to join us. Wow. That's all I could think, was "wow."

So after the gig is over, we're getting drinks bought for us and fools asking us to come to their place for after parties and all that. Drunk girls that barely remember their own name, but saw you up there so they come over and say something in a language that is neither english nor spanish. I don't mean to emphasize this too much, but it was crazy. What did I do? Let people buy me drinks and get faded. Why not? :)

After the show we take pictures with Jerry and say our thanks, and surprisingly enough Jerry apparently doesn't speak very much. He's nice and his entourage seemed pretty nice, but talking didn't seem to be his thing. Slowly the green room/backstage begins to empty out and the club is 100% DJ. We hit the floor for a while and then eventually pack all of our shit and head home.

Another night of being piss hot, but at least Marco jacked the fan this time. It was a little better, but fuck me if those windows were just waiting for me to fall asleep so they could fuck me up the next morning. Faded and tired, we finally went to bed. One hell of a night. One hell of an experience. All thanks to whom? Fuckin' Evvron. Thanks 'lil homie.

The life of a musician: 09/09/09

This past weekend was a valuable lesson for me. I traveled for a series of gigs in LA last week, leaving Wednesday and returning on Monday. What a trip that turned out to be. Here is a recap of that wonderful evening...

Wednesday Night:

I landed in LA via the always affordable (if you purchase your tickets ahead of time) Southwest airlines. It was a nice flight, and a round of Jack and Coke's for me and the guys made it a little sweeter. For future reference in this epic adventure, the guys = Carlos, Freddy and Bill. So tasty beverages for all, and let me tell you, they make strong drinks on that plane. I know it sounds crazy, but it is true!

For the next 45 minutes or so, I think Freddy and I successfully annoyed everyone around us with our unrelenting giggling. We were excited for this trip, happy to be traveling together, and had a nice adult beverage - which I killed in record time. We probably laughed most of the way up there. Either reenacting a gremlin on the wing scenario, or at the scary woman that was behind us. Truth be told, I was too scared to look at her, but Freddy's reaction to her was priceless - and cannot be put into words.

So upon landing we meet up with my boy Houngry - a.k.a. Aaron - and his girl. We get swooped up at the airport and make our way through traffic to Houngry's house where we will be staying for most of the trip. After unpacking and claiming my sleeping quarters (read: couch), we hang out a little and take off for rehearsal at the studios in downtown LA.

We are rehearsing this evening because we are the band for the singer Jerry Rivera. I had heard his name, so I knew he was somebody, but I had no idea that this dude was pretty legit. I'll talk more about that later......Upon arriving to the LA rehearsal studios, which I think it was actually called, I could tell this night was going to be fucked from jump street. Why you ask?

#1 - Houngry, Mr. LA apparently, couldn't find the place. Nice move Evvon (Aaron's other name), after this weekend it has become clear to me he has the grasp of LA that is only rivaled by a asian tourist. The only thing he was missing was his camera. Fuckin' Evvon.

#2 - It was fairly ghetto. A warehouse district, sort of, that reminded me of home. And by home I mean the flat lands around the Oakland Coliseum. Guess who picked this place? That's right, fuckin' Evvon. Again.

#3 - No parking at the studio, unless you had been there since the night before. Apparently people hang out there because they have nothing else to do. Cars being blocked in by Jamaican looking fellows really pisses off the angry Latino's in attendance. It was emotional.

#4 - The dumb fucks that ran the studio, and I mean that in the harshest way possible, allowed some equally dumb fucks to start rehearsal an hour late. Which of course meant that we had to start an hour later. So after driving an hour to get to LA, we sat around for another hour just waiting for the coalition of dumb fucks to get the fuck out of our studio. Yes, it angerst me. The silver lining? They were probably smoking as much as they were playing in that studio, so I'm sure we were all high a little when we finally did get in there. Yay, free high! Fuckin' Evvon.

#5 - Upon meeting all of the guys we would be playing with to back up Jerry, it was a decent mix. I knew almost all of them. The bone player, who was a pretty good player, hadn't worked on the music for his reasons, and it showed. That fucked us big time: see #6.

#6 - Ah, yes, here we are at number 6. It turns out that evening that the musical director that is rehearsing with us comes to the conclusion that the horn line, which is Bill, myself and this trombonist, cannot handle the music. What - the - fucking - fuck? It was resolved, but where the fuck did this guy come up with that? Well it turns out that the trombonist not doing his homework made us all look bad. The trombonist was replaced, and all was well in the end.

That sure did open my eyes, how easily you can be fired from a gig because of someone else's lack of preparation. That's what happens on these gigs, these guys are big time and if you're not prepared, you're done. And if someone else isn't prepared, you could be done just as easily. That night I learned a valuable lesson about being a "real" musician.

The drive home was long, and laughter filled as they always are, and we ended up staying awake until 3 or 4am. We did that about every night. It was an interesting start to the trip.

Day 2 of LA trip coming up next...

What's worse?

You know as I follow the healthcare debate, I haven't heard very much about undocumented (illegal) immigrants and their place in healthcare reform. We know that for the most part, there are about 47 million uninsured Americans. We also know that most uninsured Americans use the emergency room for non emergency care, which is the most expensive form of healthcare. What happens when these people are now covered and using the normal channels to receive healthcare? It saves money, that is an accepted fact.

Interestingly, one thing that I have not heard anything about, and I have followed this closely, is the undocumented person. A quick search online will reveal that there are about 10-20 million illegal immigrants living in the US. Some numbers said more, some said less, but the accepted average seemed to b 10-20 million. Where do these people fall in the healthcare debate?

The answer is, they will not be covered. This posed a very interesting question; why not? If undocumented persons, for the most part, are going to be using emergency rooms in a similar manner as the currently uninsured; is it a good thing to keep them out? I understand that no politician wants to look as if they are catering to this portion of the population; but at what cost?

For the sake of using round numbers, let's say that healthcare reform is going to cost $1,000 per person, per year. We'll take a median number between 10-20 million, let's say 15 million. So there could be 15,000,000 people still taking advantage of our healthcare system in its most expensive form; the emergency room - because they may have few other options. That is an incredible cost to bear, wouldn't it make sense to include these persons?

Why wouldn't we?

Many people would say that undocumented (illegal) persons do not deserve to benefit from the United States healthcare system; including when it is reformed.

The reality is that they already do benefit from our current system. The citizens, and undocumented persons, are abusing the emergency room are causing healthcare prices to go up. People that have health insurance are the ones that have to pay the price. Insured persons like yourself pay for their unnecessary and expensive emergency room visits by paying higher healthcare premiums.

Undocumented persons that are not a part of the reform would mean that undocumented persons are getting the same care you or I have to pay for; but would get it for free. The answer? Charge them just the same; and not give up the 15,000,000,000 per year in healthcare premiums. (15,000,000 people x $1,000 per person)

Why should undocumented persons receive a better deal than me or you. To put it more personally, why should this population receive better care than my daughter; or your child(ren)?

What do you think? Does this change your view on whether they should or should not be a part of the discussion? Does this change your view on immigration in America? It is certainly a lot to consider. To cover, or not to cover; what's worse?

My long goodbye

Well, today Grace hit the road with her mom back to Washington. Such a smart, loving, and beautiful child. What a lucky father I am. I spent much of last night crying over the fact that I was going to be missing out on so much of Grace's life during this next year, and rightfully so.

There is few things in the world that rival seeing genuine happiness on your child's face. When I see Grace climb up to the top of something that neither of us were sure she could reach, or when she figures out a problem with her "homework" all on her own; those are the truly satisfying moments in my life. Looking at her eyes light up and the smile that comes across her face as she discovers something little or big about the world that she didn't know before beats the hell out of all of the other shit that we find time to worry or complain about.

Sometimes it is also the things that she says that can warm and break your heart at the same time. Last night she was looking at us a little overwhelmed as to why we were crying. She thought that maybe it was time for her to go, because "we had so much trouble with her". She was referring to the hard(ish) time we had recently had with her behavior, which I think may had been associated with her upcoming departure. This little 5 year old girl actually thought that her behavior was the cause of this coming change. No matter what you tell a child, they can only comprehend the comprehensible. I couldn't even comprehend it all for my own sake.

The point that I wanted her to take from this, was that her daddy does cry too; and that it was normal. I wanted her to see just how much we loved her, and that even though something was happening that we didn't want; we still wanted her to be happy. I wanted her to know that I was crying because I knew I was losing something; and that something was her. I needed her to associate that moment to all of the times I have told her I loved her; and that it really was the truth each time I said it.

I expect that she may only make this connection subconsciously, but that's OK with me. If she knows, she knows. I woke up this morning (Monday) with a heavy heart. I knew this was the last time we'd wake up together for a long time. I knew this was the last time we'd have what we had at that moment; for months. I just tried to appreciate that I was there with her. She is singularly and simultaneously my source of pride and purpose in the world. I only wanted to remember everything about her as she was at that moment, and not worry about what is to come for either of us.

Her first word, her first step, her first of just about everything; I've been there for. That time is seemingly over. Her first day of school. Her first time reading. Her first time writing. The changes she will experience as a kindergartner; and so much more will escape my watching eye. I will never get to participate in those memories. I won't even get to have them. This is my reality. What is life other than the memories that we have, and the experiences yet to come? It is equally a question of "why me?" as it is a question of "why her?". She deserves everything.

For me, saying goodbye started last night, and ends with the realization that tonight there is no life in her room, and no little body in our bed. Dinner time will be a little lonelier with that empty space at the dinner table. Everything changes from here on out. Goodbye my baby, I'll see you when you get home....

First word: Health. Second word: do you Care?

Very few people know that I am actually very interested in politics and where our nation is headed. There are so many issues to be worried about; education, Iraq and Afghanistan, civil liberties, global pandemic, global warming and economic disasters are just to name a few. I think the most important of these, other than the two wars and the economy, is the push for health care reform.

What I find to be so frustrating is that so many people wanted this. Healthcare reform was a huge part of President Obama's campaign and he was elected overwhelmingly by the American people; why is this such a problem now?

The single payer system, which is the same healthcare system that is run in England, France and Canada (and others), is the most cost effective way. The bureaucratic overhead is going to be less than the corporate 25%-35% profits that private insurance companies work into the current costs of healthcare. (percentages provided by Political Science professor)

The reform of healthcare would benefit all businesses, small and large, because it would lessen the burden that employers would have in providing (or helping to provide) their employees with healthcare. This would easily inject some life into the economy.

Why is it that America spends the most on healthcare each year; and is ranked 35th (or close to it) in the world? Why are there 47 million uninsured people in America? Why is there a system in place that allows companies to deny care to people with pre existing conditions? Why is healthcare not a basic human right? Who is it exactly that feels this way; the have's or the have nots?

Some arguments to healthcare reform include: "America has the best healthcare in the world." Is that so? Then why do most people want to change it? Looking at the questions I posed above, would those be characteristics of the best healthcare system in the world?

Conservatives were in the majority for about 6 years, with a two term Republican president, and majorities in the House and Senate; yet they did nothing during Bush's 8 years. Just as they have been since Obama has taken office, they continue to be the party of no.

Do you think that with about 370 electoral college votes, the vast majority of Americans want healthcare reform? Without even blinking an eye, the answer is easily yes. With the Democratic party being voted into the majority in Congress; don't you think that the American people are voting for the change that they want to see? Can the Democrats actually screw this up with a 60 seat majority in the Senate and a huge lead in the House?

Who doesn't want this change? Insurance companies. Insurance companies are pouring money into the fight against reform, and in some ways are winning. No union, organization, institution or corporation that I know of is against healthcare reform. Why is that? Because everyone wants it. Who is against it? The insurance companies, because like always, it comes down to money.

If the Democratic party has to go it alone to get this done, then so be it. I can only imagine the reason this is being done with such urgency, is because President Obama will never have as much political "credit" as he has now. So get it done now, because that seems to be the only way it will ever be done; and it's the right thing to do.

If America is the greatest country in the world, then it's about time we start acting like it. There are plenty of things to fight over: immigration, abortion, taxes and so on...this should not be one of them.

The next chapter

If my life were a book, it would be a helluva book. I mean this thing would sell, and then be made into a movie starring either Vince Vaughn or Jeremy Piven - because that's how I roll.

The latest chapter still to be written, is about my first day back to school as a full time student. It really snuck up on me, I knew my first day was the 17th, but I had no clue that tomorrow was the 17th until about 30 minutes ago. Oh me.

So I will charge into my Math, English, Political Science and History classes with a full head of steam. Tomorrow is the first official step to the rest of my life; and I plan to take full advantage of the opportunities ahead of me.

Wish me luck, shoot; I ain't too cool for school. Well, I am, but you know what I mean. ;)

They only get harder

Saying goodbye is hard. Saying goodbye to my daughter has always been tough. It was easier when she was younger, because she couldn't say much so it wasn't that bad. As she got a little older she started to realize that she was leaving mom or dad, and would cry for the other parent. That was rough.

It was also hard because I was afraid if I didn't see her she would forget who I was. It sounds crazy but when you're dealing with this for the first time it is scary, and hard. Then there is the task of reintroducing her back to our way of life and my rules and expectations. One thing you never stop being afraid of is will she take away all of the lessons in life and guidance that I want to pass on to her?

My biggest regret is the life that she has had to live, and will have to live. She will be exposed to Mom vs. Dad for most of her entire life; be it from the outside or her own internal conflicts. No child should have to travel state lines to see her parents. No child should cry because she misses one parent or the other. No child should have to deal with the complexities of divorcee life that Gracie has been exposed to. Especially my child.

So as I fret over all of the struggles I may not be able to foresee and protect her from, I do my best to tell Gracie that I love her all of the time. I catch myself trying to teach her things about life that a 5 year old probably can't comprehend because I'm afraid that she won't learn them if she doesn't learn them from me.

The truth is that there is nothing I can do, short of Gracie at some point choosing to live with her daddy. I can't control her mother or anyone else in her family. I can't control what they choose to teach her, or what they choose not to teach her. I can barely control her, and she's 5 years old!

If I focus on controlling this, I'll never be at peace. I understand that, but it is so hard to act on this realization. I'll continue to do the only thing I can; show her that I love her every day. I will, because I do. So here I am, 10 days away from yet again saying goodbye.

That's the thing about these goodbyes, they only get harder.

Torn between two loves!!

Ever been torn between two loves that you cared for deeply? That's what I'm going through right now. Political Science v. History are the participants in the battle for my heart. I'm an avid watcher of the History channel and C-SPAN (as well as other news channels); how can I choose?

I first had considered the possibility of double majoring, but I was informed by a very kind advisor at Cal (thanks Efrat) that it was possible, but quite the undertaking. My current interests seem to align me with PoliSci and I am currently leaning that way. Luckily for me the prerequisites on transferring to Cal are the exact same as a History major; so I'm able to take some time on this decision while working my way simultaneously towards both majors.

My overall goal is to work at the community college level. Being an academic advisor is one of the final goals, as well as potentially teaching PoliSci and/or History.

Stay tuned...

New Challenges

As of last week I volunteered to be the President and co-founder of the Contra Costa College Veteran's Club. I have a lot to learn in putting together and sustaining an organization like this, which is a challenge I look forward to. We'll see how it goes!